Bab Bab 44 · THE MARCH

. THE MARCH

The conflicting passions and exhausted feelings of Waverley had

resigned him to late but sound repose. He was dreaming of Glennaquoich,

and had transferred to the halls of Ian nan Chaistel the festal train

which so lately graced those of Holyrood. The pibroch too was

distinctly heard; and this at least was no delusion, for the “proud

step of the chief piper” of the “chlain Mac-Ivor” was perambulating the

court before the door of his Chieftain’s quarters, and as Mrs.

Flockhart, apparently no friend to his minstrelsy, was pleased to

observe, “garring the very stane-and-lime wa’s dingle wi’ his

screeching.” Of course it soon became too powerful for Waverley’s

dream, with which it had at first rather harmonised.

The sound of Callum’s brogues in his apartment (for Mac-Ivor had again

assigned Waverley to his care) was the next note of parting. “Winna yer

honour bang up? Vich Ian Vohr and ta Prince are awa to the lang green

glen ahint the clachan, tat they ca’ the King’s Park,[*] and mony ane’s

on his ain shanks the day that will be carried on ither folk’s ere

night.”

[* The main body of the Highland army encamped, or rather bivouacked,

in that part of the King’s Park which lies towards the village of

Duddingston.]

Waverley sprung up, and, with Callum’s assistance and instructions,

adjusted his tartans in proper costume. Callum told him also, “tat his

leather _dorlach_ wi’ the lock on her was come frae Doune, and she was

awa again in the wain wi’ Vich Ian Vohr’s walise.”

By this periphrasis Waverley readily apprehended his portmanteau was

intended. He thought upon the mysterious packet of the maid of the

cavern, which seemed always to escape him when within his very grasp.

But this was no time for indulgence of curiosity; and having declined

Mrs. Flockhart’s compliment of a _morning_, _i.e._ a matutinal dram,

being probably the only man in the Chevalier’s army by whom such a

courtesy would have been rejected, he made his adieus and departed with

Callum.

“Callum,” said he, as they proceeded down a dirty close to gain the

southern skirts of the Canongate, “what shall I do for a horse?”

“Ta deil ane ye maun think o’,” said Callum. “Vich Ian Vohr’s marching

on foot at the head o’ his kin (not to say ta Prince, wha does the

like), wi’ his target on his shoulder; and ye maun e’en be

neighbour-like.”

“And so I will, Callum, give me my target; so, there we are fixed. How

does it look?”

“Like the bra’ Highlander tat’s painted on the board afore the mickle

change-house they ca’ Luckie Middlemass’s,” answered Callum; meaning, I

must observe, a high compliment, for in his opinion Luckie Middlemass’s

sign was an exquisite specimen of art. Waverley, however, not feeling

the full force of this polite simile, asked him no further questions.

Upon extricating themselves from the mean and dirty suburbs of the

metropolis, and emerging into the open air, Waverley felt a renewal of

both health and spirits, and turned his recollection with firmness upon

the events of the preceding evening, and with hope and resolution

towards those of the approaching day.

When he had surmounted a small craggy eminence called St. Leonard’s

Hill, the King’s Park, or the hollow between the mountain of Arthur’s

Seat and the rising grounds on which the southern part of Edinburgh is

now built, lay beneath him, and displayed a singular and animating

prospect. It was occupied by the army of the Highlanders, now in the

act of preparing for their march. Waverley had already seen something

of the kind at the hunting-match which he attended with Fergus

Mac-Ivor; but this was on a scale of much greater magnitude, and

incomparably deeper interest. The rocks, which formed the background of

the scene, and the very sky itself, rang with the clang of the

bagpipers, summoning forth, each with his appropriate pibroch, his

chieftain and clan. The mountaineers, rousing themselves from their

couch under the canopy of heaven with the hum and bustle of a confused

and irregular multitude, like bees alarmed and arming in their hives,

seemed to possess all the pliability of movement fitted to execute

military manœuvres. Their motions appeared spontaneous and confused,

but the result was order and regularity; so that a general must have

praised the conclusion, though a martinet might have ridiculed the

method by which it was attained.

The sort of complicated medley created by the hasty arrangements of the

various clans under their respective banners, for the purpose of

getting into the order of march, was in itself a gay and lively

spectacle. They had no tents to strike having generally, and by choice,

slept upon the open field, although the autumn was now waning and the

nights began to be frosty. For a little space, while they were getting

into order, there was exhibited a changing, fluctuating, and confused

appearance of waving tartans and floating plumes, and of banners

displaying the proud gathering word of Clanronald, Ganion Coheriga

(Gainsay who dares), Loch-Sloy, the watchword of the MacFarlanes;

Forth, fortune, and fill the fetters, the motto of the Marquis of

Tullibardine; Bydand, that of Lord Lewis Gordon, and the appropriate

signal words and emblems of many other chieftains and clans.

At length the mixed and wavering multitude arranged themselves into a

narrow and dusky column of great length, stretching through the whole

extent of the valley. In the front of the column the standard of the

Chevalier was displayed, bearing a red cross upon a white ground, with

the motto Tandem Triumphans. The few cavalry, being chiefly Lowland

gentry, with their domestic servants and retainers, formed the advanced

guard of the army; and their standards, of which they had rather too

many in respect of their numbers, were seen waving upon the extreme

verge of the horizon. Many horsemen of this body, among whom Waverley

accidentally remarked Balmawhapple and his lieutenant, Jinker (which

last, however, had been reduced, with several others, by the advice of

the Baron of Bradwardine, to the situation of what he called reformed

officers, or reformadoes), added to the liveliness, though by no means

to the regularity, of the scene, by galloping their horses as fast

forward as the press would permit, to join their proper station in the

van. The fascinations of the Circes of the High Street, and the

potations of strength with which they had been drenched over night, had

probably detained these heroes within the walls of Edinburgh somewhat

later than was consistent with their morning duty. Of such loiterers,

the prudent took the longer and circuitous, but more open, route to

attain their place in the march, by keeping at some distance from the

infantry, and making their way through the inclosures to the right, at

the expense of leaping over or pulling down the drystone fences. The

irregular appearance and vanishing of these small parties of horsemen,

as well as the confusion occasioned by those who endeavoured, though

generally without effect, to press to the front through the crowd of

Highlanders, maugre their curses, oaths, and opposition, added to the

picturesque wildness what it took from the military regularity of the

scene.

While Waverley gazed upon this remarkable spectacle, rendered yet more

impressive by the occasional discharge of cannon-shot from the Castle

at the Highland guards as they were withdrawn from its vicinity to join

their main body, Callum, with his usual freedom of interference,

reminded him that Vich Ian Vohr’s folk were nearly at the head of the

column of march which was still distant, and that “they would gang very

fast after the cannon fired.” Thus admonished, Waverley walked briskly

forward, yet often casting a glance upon the darksome clouds of

warriors who were collected before and beneath him. A nearer view,

indeed, rather diminished the effect impressed on the mind by the more

distant appearance of the army. The leading men of each clan were well

armed with broad-sword, target, and fusee, to which all added the dirk,

and most the steel pistol. But these consisted of gentlemen, that is,

relations of the chief, however distant, and who had an immediate title

to his countenance and protection. Finer and hardier men could not have

been selected out of any army in Christendom; while the free and

independent habits which each possessed, and which each was yet so well

taught to subject to the command of his chief, and the peculiar mode of

discipline adopted in Highland warfare, rendered them equally

formidable by their individual courage and high spirit, and from their

rational conviction of the necessity of acting in unison, and of giving

their national mode of attack the fullest opportunity of success.

But, in a lower rank to these, there were found individuals of an

inferior description, the common peasantry of the Highland country,

who, although they did not allow themselves to be so called, and

claimed often, with apparent truth, to be of more ancient descent than

the masters whom they served, bore, nevertheless, the livery of extreme

penury, being indifferently accoutred, and worse armed, half naked,

stinted in growth, and miserable in aspect. Each important clan had

some of those Helots attached to them: thus, the MacCouls, though

tracing their descent from Comhal, the father of Finn or Fingal, were a

sort of Gibeonites, or hereditary servants to the Stewarts of Appin;

the Macbeths, descended from the unhappy monarch of that name, were

subjects to the Morays and clan Donnochy, or Robertsons of Athole; and

many other examples might be given, were it not for the risk of hurting

any pride of clanship which may yet be left, and thereby drawing a

Highland tempest into the shop of my publisher. Now these same Helots,

though forced into the field by the arbitrary authority of the

chieftains under whom they hewed wood and drew water, were in general

very sparingly fed, ill dressed, and worse armed. The latter

circumstance was indeed owing chiefly to the general disarming act,

which had been carried into effect ostensibly through the whole

Highlands, although most of the chieftains contrived to elude its

influence by retaining the weapons of their own immediate clansmen, and

delivering up those of less value, which they collected from these

inferior satellites. It followed, as a matter of course, that, as we

have already hinted, many of these poor fellows were brought to the

field in a very wretched condition.

From this it happened that, in bodies, the van of which were admirably

well armed in their own fashion, the rear resembled actual banditti.

Here was a pole-axe, there a sword without a scabbard; here a gun

without a lock, there a scythe set straight upon a pole; and some had

only their dirks, and bludgeons or stakes pulled out of hedges. The

grim, uncombed, and wild appearance of these men, most of whom gazed

with all the admiration of ignorance upon the most ordinary productions

of domestic art, created surprise in the Lowlands, but it also created

terror. So little was the condition of the Highlands known at that late

period that the character and appearance of their population, while

thus sallying forth as military adventurers, conveyed to the

South-Country Lowlanders as much surprise as if an invasion of African

Negroes or Esquimaux Indians had issued forth from the northern

mountains of their own native country. It cannot therefore be wondered

if Waverley, who had hitherto judged of the Highlanders generally from

the samples which the policy of Fergus had from time to time exhibited,

should have felt damped and astonished at the daring attempt of a body

not then exceeding four thousand men, and of whom not above half the

number, at the utmost, were armed, to change the fate and alter the

dynasty of the British kingdoms.

As he moved along the column, which still remained stationary, an iron

gun, the only piece of artillery possessed by the army which meditated

so important a revolution, was fired as the signal of march. The

Chevalier had expressed a wish to leave this useless piece of ordnance

behind him; but, to his surprise, the Highland chiefs interposed to

solicit that it might accompany their march, pleading the prejudices of

their followers, who, little accustomed to artillery, attached a degree

of absurd importance to this field-piece, and expected it would

contribute essentially to a victory which they could only owe to their

own muskets and broadswords. Two or three French artillerymen were

therefore appointed to the management of this military engine, which

was drawn along by a string of Highland ponies, and was, after all,

only used for the purpose of firing signals.[31]

No sooner was its voice heard upon the present occasion than the whole

line was in motion. A wild cry of joy from the advancing batallions

rent the air, and was then lost in the shrill clangour of the bagpipes,

as the sound of these, in their turn, was partially drowned by the

heavy tread of so many men put at once into motion. The banners

glittered and shook as they moved forward, and the horse hastened to

occupy their station as the advanced guard, and to push on

reconnoitring parties to ascertain and report the motions of the enemy.

They vanished from Waverley’s eye as they wheeled round the base of

Arthur’s Seat, under the remarkable ridge of basaltic rocks which

fronts the little lake of Duddingston.

The infantry followed in the same direction, regulating their pace by

another body which occupied a road more to the southward. It cost

Edward some exertion of activity to attain the place which Fergus’s

followers occupied in the line of march.