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
After this ceremony was duly performed, the old Esculapius let his
patient's blood with a cupping-glass with great dexterity, and
proceeded, muttering all the while to himself in Gaelic, to boil
on the fire certain herbs, with which he compounded an
embrocation. He then fomented the parts which had sustained
injury, never failing to murmur prayers or spells, which of the
two Waverley could not distinguish, as his ear only caught the
words Gaspar-Melchior-Balthazar-max-prax-fax, and similar
gibberish. The fomentation had a speedy effect in alleviating the
pain and swelling, which our hero imputed to the virtue of the
herbs or the effect of the chafing, but which was by the
bystanders unanimously ascribed to the spells with which the
operation had been accompanied. Edward was given to understand
that not one of the ingredients had been gathered except during
the full moon, and that the herbalist had, while collecting them,
uniformly recited a charm, which in English ran thus:--
Hail to thee, thou holy herb,
That sprung on holy ground!
All in the Mount Olivet
First wert thou found.
Thou art boot for many a bruise,
And healest many a wound;
In our Lady's blessed name,
I take thee from the ground.
[Footnote: This metrical spell, or something very like it, is
preserved by Reginald Scott in his work on Witchcraft.]
Edward observed with some surprise that even Fergus,
notwithstanding his knowledge and education, seemed to fall in
with the superstitious ideas of his countrymen, either because he
deemed it impolitic to affect scepticism on a matter of general
belief, or more probably because, like most men who do not think
deeply or accurately on such subjects, he had in his mind a
reserve of superstition which balanced the freedom of his
expressions and practice upon other occasions. Waverley made no
commentary, therefore, on the manner of the treatment, but
rewarded the professor of medicine with a liberality beyond the
utmost conception of his wildest hopes. He uttered on the occasion
so many incoherent blessings in Gaelic and English that Mac-Ivor,
rather scandalised at the excess of his acknowledgments, cut them
short by exclaiming, Ceud mile mhalloich ort! i.e. 'A hundred
thousand curses on you!' and so pushed the helper of men out of
the cabin.
After Waverley was left alone, the exhaustion of pain and fatigue
--for the whole day's exercise had been severe--threw him into a
profound, but yet a feverish sleep, which he chiefly owed to an
opiate draught administered by the old Highlander from some
decoction of herbs in his pharmacopoeia.
Early the next morning, the purpose of their meeting being over,
and their sports damped by the untoward accident, in which Fergus
and all his friends expressed the greatest sympathy, it became a
question how to dispose of the disabled sportsman. This was
settled by Mac-Ivor, who had a litter prepared, of 'birch and
hazel-grey,'
[FOOTNOTE:
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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