Waverley; or, 'Tis sixty years since — CompleteScott, Walter
History
Waverley; or, 'Tis sixty years since — Complete
Scott, Walter
Historical fiction; Jacobite Rebellion, 1745-1746 -- Fiction; Scotland -- History -- 18th century -- Fiction
'It is one of those figments,' observed Mr. Bradwardine, 'with which
the early history of distinguished families was deformed in the times
of superstition; as that of Rome, and other ancient nations, had their
prodigies, sir, the which you may read in ancient histories, or in the
little work compiled by Julius Obsequens, and inscribed by the learned
Scheffer, the editor, to his patron, Benedictus Skytte, Baron of
Dudershoff.'
'My father has a strange defiance of the marvellous, Captain Waverley,'
observed Rose, 'and once stood firm when a whole synod of Presbyterian
divines were put to the rout by a sudden apparition of the foul fiend.'
Waverley looked as if desirous to hear more.
'Must I tell my story as well as sing my song? Well--Once upon a time
there lived an old woman, called Janet Gellatley, who was suspected to
be a witch, on the infallible grounds that she was very old, very ugly,
very poor, and had two sons, one of whom was a poet and the other a
fool, which visitation, all the neighbourhood agreed, had come upon her
for the sin of witchcraft. And she was imprisoned for a week in the
steeple of the parish church, and sparely supplied with food, and not
permitted to sleep until she herself became as much persuaded of her
being a witch as her accusers; and in this lucid and happy state of
mind was brought forth to make a clean breast, that is, to make open
confession of her sorceries, before all the Whig gentry and ministers
in the vicinity, who were no conjurors themselves. My father went to
see fair play between the witch and the clergy; for the witch had been
born on his estate. And while the witch was confessing that the Enemy
appeared, and made his addresses to her as a handsome black
man,--which, if you could have seen poor old blear-eyed Janet,
reflected little honour on Apollyon's taste,--and while the auditors
listened with astonished ears, and the clerk recorded with a trembling
hand, she, all of a sudden, changed the low mumbling tone with which
she spoke into a shrill yell, and exclaimed, "Look to yourselves! look
to yourselves! I see the Evil One sitting in the midst of ye." The
surprise was general, and terror and flight its immediate consequences.
Happy were those who were next the door; and many were the disasters
that befell hats, bands, cuffs, and wigs, before they could get out of
the church, where they left the obstinate prelatist to settle matters
with the witch and her admirer at his own peril or pleasure.'
'Risu solvuntur tabulae,' said the Baron; 'when they recovered their
panic trepidation they were too much ashamed to bring any wakening of
the process against Janet Gellatley.' [Footnote: See Note 11]
This anecdote led to a long discussion of
All those idle thoughts and fantasies,
Devices, dreams, opinions unsound,
Shows, visions, soothsays, and prophecies,
And all that feigned is, as leasings, tales, and lies.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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