第 七 章 · A HORSE-QUARTER IN SCOTLAND

. A HORSE-QUARTER IN SCOTLAND

The next morning, amid varied feelings, the chief of which was a

predominant, anxious, and even solemn impression, that he was now in a

great measure abandoned to his own guidance and direction, Edward

Waverley departed from the Hall amid the blessings and tears of all the

old domestics and the inhabitants of the village, mingled with some sly

petitions for sergeantcies and corporalships, and so forth, on the part

of those who professed that “they never thoft to ha’ seen Jacob, and

Giles, and Jonathan go off for soldiers, save to attend his honour, as

in duty bound.” Edward, as in duty bound, extricated himself from the

supplicants with the pledge of fewer promises than might have been

expected from a young man so little accustomed to the world. After a

short visit to London, he proceeded on horseback, then the general mode

of travelling, to Edinburgh, and from thence to Dundee, a seaport on

the eastern coast of Angus-shire, where his regiment was then

quartered.

He now entered upon a new world, where, for a time, all was beautiful

because all was new. Colonel Gardiner, the commanding officer of the

regiment, was himself a study for a romantic, and at the same time an

inquisitive youth. In person he was tall, handsome, and active, though

somewhat advanced in life. In his early years he had been what is

called, by manner of palliative, a very gay young man, and strange

stories were circulated about his sudden conversion from doubt, if not

infidelity, to a serious and even enthusiastic turn of mind. It was

whispered that a supernatural communication, of a nature obvious even

to the exterior senses, had produced this wonderful change; and though

some mentioned the proselyte as an enthusiast, none hinted at his being

a hypocrite. This singular and mystical circumstance gave Colonel

Gardiner a peculiar and solemn interest in the eyes of the young

soldier.[5] It may be easily imagined that the officers, of a regiment

commanded by so respectable a person composed a society more sedate and

orderly than a military mess always exhibits; and that Waverley escaped

some temptations to which he might otherwise have been exposed.

Meanwhile his military education proceeded. Already a good horseman, he

was now initiated into the arts of the manege, which, when carried to

perfection, almost realise the fable of the Centaur, the guidance of

the horse appearing to proceed from the rider’s mere volition, rather

than from the use of any external and apparent signal of motion. He

received also instructions in his field duty; but I must own, that when

his first ardour was past, his progress fell short in the latter

particular of what he wished and expected. The duty of an officer, the

most imposing of all others to the inexperienced mind, because

accompanied with so much outward pomp and circumstance, is in its

essence a very dry and abstract task, depending chiefly upon

arithmetical combinations, requiring much attention, and a cool and

reasoning head to bring them into action. Our hero was liable to fits

of absence, in which his blunders excited some mirth, and called down

some reproof. This circumstance impressed him with a painful sense of

inferiority in those qualities which appeared most to deserve and

obtain regard in his new profession. He asked himself in vain, why his

eye could not judge of distance or space so well as those of his

companions; why his head was not always successful in disentangling the

various partial movements necessary to execute a particular evolution;

and why his memory, so alert upon most occasions, did not correctly

retain technical phrases and minute points of etiquette or field

discipline. Waverley was naturally modest, and therefore did not fall

into the egregious mistake of supposing such minuter rules of military

duty beneath his notice, or conceiting himself to be born a general,

because he made an indifferent subaltern. The truth was, that the vague

and unsatisfactory course of reading which he had pursued, working upon

a temper naturally retired and abstracted, had given him that wavering

and unsettled habit of mind which is most averse to study and riveted

attention. Time, in the mean while, hung heavy on his hands. The gentry

of the neighbourhood were disaffected, and showed little hospitality to

the military guests; and the people of the town, chiefly engaged in

mercantile pursuits, were not such as Waverley chose to associate with.

The arrival of summer, and a curiosity to know something more of

Scotland than he could see in a ride from his quarters, determined him

to request leave of absence for a few weeks. He resolved first to visit

his uncle’s ancient friend and correspondent, with the purpose of

extending or shortening the time of his residence according to

circumstances. He travelled of course on horse-back, and with a single

attendant, and passed his first night at a miserable inn, where the

landlady had neither shoes nor stockings, and the landlord, who called

himself a gentleman, was disposed to be rude to his guest, because he

had not bespoke the pleasure of his society to supper.[6] The next day,

traversing an open and uninclosed country, Edward gradually approached

the Highlands of Perthshire, which at first had appeared a blue outline

in the horizon, but now swelled into huge gigantic masses, which

frowned defiance over the more level country that lay beneath them.

Near the bottom of this stupendous barrier, but still in the Lowland

country, dwelt Cosmo Comyne Bradwardine of Bradwardine; and, if

grey-haired eld can be in aught believed, there had dwelt his

ancestors, with all their heritage, since the days of the gracious King

Duncan.