Waverley; or, 'Tis sixty years since — Volume 1Scott, Walter
History
Waverley; or, 'Tis sixty years since — Volume 1
Scott, Walter
Historical fiction; Jacobite Rebellion, 1745-1746 -- Fiction; Scotland -- History -- 18th century -- Fiction
'And well I may,' answered Ballenkeiroch; 'the flash of the gun
cost me a fair-haired son, and the glance of the sword has done
but little for King James.'
The Chieftain, in two words of French, explained to Waverley that
the Baron had shot this old man's son in a fray near Tully-Veolan,
about seven years before; and then hastened to remove
Ballenkeiroch's prejudice, by informing him that Waverley was an
Englishman, unconnected by birth or alliance with the family of
Bradwardine; upon which the old gentleman raised the hitherto-
untasted cup and courteously drank to his health. This ceremony
being requited in kind, the Chieftain made a signal for the pipes
to cease, and said aloud, 'Where is the song hidden, my friends,
that Mac-Murrough cannot find it?'
Mac-Murrough, the family bhairdh, an aged man, immediately took
the hint, and began to chant, with low and rapid utterance, a
profusion of Celtic verses, which were received by the audience
with all the applause of enthusiasm. As he advanced in his
declamation, his ardour seemed to increase. He had at first spoken
with his eyes fixed on the ground; he now cast them around as if
beseeching, and anon as if commanding, attention, and his tones
rose into wild and impassioned notes, accompanied with appropriate
gestures. He seemed to Edward, who attended to him with much
interest, to recite many proper names, to lament the dead, to
apostrophise the absent, to exhort, and entreat, and animate those
who were present. Waverley thought he even discerned his own name,
and was convinced his conjecture was right from the eyes of the
company being at that moment turned towards him simultaneously.
The ardour of the poet appeared to communicate itself to the
audience. Their wild and sun-burnt countenances assumed a fiercer
and more animated expression; all bent forward towards the
reciter, many sprung up and waved their arms in ecstasy, and some
laid their hands on their swords. When the song ceased, there was
a deep pause, while the aroused feelings of the poet and of the
hearers gradually subsided into their usual channel.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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