The Prose Works of Sir Walter Scott. (Supplementary volume: containing notes, historical and illustrative, by the author, glossary, etc.)

Front matter

THE PROSE WORKS OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. PRINTED BY J SMITH, RUE MONTMOltENCY, No. 10. THE PROSE WORKS OF SIR WALTER SCOTT VOLUME IV. CONTAINING PEVERIL OF THE PEAK. ST RONAN'S WELL. REDGAUNTLET. TALES OF THE CRUSADERS. PARIS PUBLISHED BY A. AND W. GALIGNAiM, K° 18, RUE VIVIEN'NE. 4827. THE PROSE WORKS O F l^tettl ot the ffltuK. If my readers should at any time remark that I am particularly dull, they may be assured there is a design under it. British Essayist. PREFATORY LETTER strong expectations that I might, peradventure, next see the author himself. FROM Again, it seems to me a marked circumstance, that whereas an inner apartment of Mr Constable's shop was thought a place of sufficient solemnity for your audience, our venerable senior was pleased to afford mine m the recesses of my own lodgings, intra parietes, as it were, and without the chance of interruption.

I must also remark, that the features, form, and dress of the Eidolon, asyou well term the apparition of our parent, seemed to me more precisely distinct than was vouchsafed to you on the former occasion. Of this hereafter ; but Heaven forbid I should glory or set up any claim of superiority over the other descendants of our com mon parent, from such decided marks of his preference — Lf/u-y propria sordet. I am well satisfied that the honour was bestown not on my person, but my cloth — that the preference did not elevate Jonas Dryasdust over Clutterbuck, but the doctor of di vinity over the captain. Cedant arma togœ — a maxim never to be forgotten at any time, but espe cially to be remembered when the soldier is upon half-pay. THE REV. DR DRYASDUST OF YORK TO CAPTAIN CLUTTERBUCK, Residing at Fairy-Lodge, near Kennaquhair, N. B. Very worthy and dear Sir, To your last letter I might have answered with the classic, " Haud equidem invideo, miror ma gis."

For though my converse, from infancy, has been with things of antiquity, yet I love not ghosts or spectres to be commentators thereon; and truly your account of your conversation with our great parent, in the crypt or most intimate recess of the publishers at Edinburgh, had upon me much the ef fect of the apparition of Hector's phantom to the hero ofthe Æneid — Obstupui, steteruntque comæ. And, as I said above, I repeat that I wondered at the Vision, without envying you the pleasure of seeing our great progenitor. But it seems that he is now permitted to show himself to his family more freely than formerly ; or that the old gentleman is turned somewhat garrulous in these latter days ; or, in short, not to exhaust your patience with conjectures of the cause, I also have seen the Vision of the Author of Waverley.

Chapter I

When civil dudgeon first grew high, And men fell out they knew not why ; When foul words, jealousies, and fears, Set folk together by the ears— BUTLER. William, the Conqueror of England, was, or sup posed himself to be, the father ofa certain William Peveril, who attended him to the battle of Hastings, without conceiving that he in any respect degraded himself by doing so. upon several occasions more capacity to command, than men had heretofore given him credit for. Even in the midst of the civil turmoil, he fell in love with, and married, a beautiful and amiable young lady of the noble house of Stanley ; and from that time had the more merit in his loyalty, as it divorced him from her satiety, unless at very brief intervals, when his duty permitted an occasional visit to his home. Scorning to be allured from his military duty by domestic inducements, Peveril of the Peak sought on for several rough years of civil war, and performed his part with sufficient gallantry, until his regiment was surprised and cut to pieces by Poyntz, Cromwell's enterprising and successful general of cavalry.

The defeated cavalier escaped from the field of battle, and, like a true descendant of William the Conqueror, disdaining submission, threw himself into his own castellated mansion house, which was attacked and defended in a siege of that irregular kind, which caused the destruction of so many baronial residences during the course of those unhappy wars. Martindale Castle, after having suffered severely from the cannon which Cromwell himself brought against it, was at length surrendered when at the last extremity. Sir Geoffrey himself became a prisoner, and while his liberty was only restored upon a promise of remaining a peaceful subject to the commonwealth in future, his former delinquencies, as they were termed by the ruling party, were severely punished by fine and seques tration. Mr Bridgenorth did not, however, carry his complaisance so far as to embrace Sir Geoffrey's side during the Civil War.

On the contrary, as an active justice ofthe peace, he assisted eminently in arraying the militia in the cause of the parliament, and for some time held a military commission in that service. This was partly owing to his religious principles — for he was a zealous presbyterian — partly to his political ideas, which, without being absolutely democratical, favoured the popular side of the great national question. Besides, he was a moneyed man, and, to a certain extent, had a shrewd eye to his worldly interest. He understood how to improve the opportunities which civil war afforded of advancing his fortune by a dexterous use of his capital; and he was not at a loss to perceive that these were likely to be obtained by joining the parliament ; while the king's cause, as it was managed, held out nothing to the wealthy but a course of exaction and compulsory loans.

For these reasons Bridgenorth became a decided roundhead, and all friendly communication betwixt his neighbour and him was abruptly broken asunder. This was done with the' less acrimony that, during the Civil War, Sir Geoffrey was almost constantly in the field, following the, vacillating and unhappy fortunes of his master ; while Major Eridgenorth, who soon renounced active military service, resided chiefly in London, and only occasionally visited the hall, for the purpose of seeing his wife and family. Upon these visits he learned — and it was with great pleasure he received the intelligence — that Lady Peveril had shown much occasional kindness to Mrs Bridgenorth, and had actually given her and her family shelter in Martindale Castle when Moultrassie Hall was threatened with pillage by a body of Prince Rupert's ill-disciplined cavaliers.

This acquaintance had been matured by frequent walks together, wilich the vicinity of their places of residence suffered the Lady Peveril to arrange with Mrs Bridgenorth, who deemed herself mnch honoured in being thus admitted into the society of so distinguished a lady. Major Bridgenorth heard of this growing intimacy with great pleasure, and he determined to repay the obligation, as far as he could without much hurt to himself, by interfering, with all his influence, in behalf of her unfortunate husband. It was chiefly owing to Major Bridgenorth's mediation that Sir Geoffrey's life was saved after Worcester battle. He obtained him permission to compound for his estate on easier terms than many who had been less obstinate in malignancy ; and, finally, when, in order to raise the monej to pay the composition, the knight was obliged to sell a considerable portion of his patrimony, Major Bridgenorth became the purchaser, and that at a larger price than had been paid to any cavalier under such circumstances by a member of the committee for sequestrations.

It is true the prudent committee-man did not, by any means, lose sight of his own interest in the transaction, for the price wa3, aster all, very moderate, and the property lay adjacent to Moultrassie Hall, the value of which was at least trebled by the acquisition. But then it But neither his forced promise, nor the fear of farther unpleasant consequences to his person or property, could prevent Peveril of the Peak from joining the gallaut Earl of Derby the night before the fatal engagement in Wiggan-lane, where the earl's forces were dispersed. Sir Geoffrey had his share in that action, and escaped with the relics of the royalists after the defeat to join Charles II. He witnessed also the fiual defeat of Worcester, where he was a second time made prisoner ; and as being, in the opinion of Cromwell and the language of the times, an obstinate malignant, he was in great dan ger of having shared with the Earl of Derby his execution at Bolton-le-Moor, as he had partaken with him the dangers of two actions.

But Sir Geof frey's life vvas preserved by the interest ofa friend, who possessed influence in the councils of Oliver. — This was a Mr Bridgenorth, a gentleman of middling quality, whose father had been successful in some commercial adventure during the peaceful reign of James I. ; and who had bequeathed his son a con siderable sum of money, in addition to the .small patrimony which he inherited from his father. The substantial, though moderate-sized brick building of Moultrassie Hall, was but two miles distant from Martindale Castle, and the young Bridgenorth attended the same school with the heir of the Peverils. A sort of companionship, if not intimacy, took place betwixt them, which continued during their youthful sports— the rather that Bridge north, though he did not at heart admit Sir Geoffrey's claims of superiority to the extent which the other's vanity would have exacted, paid deference in a reasonable degree to the representative of a family so much more ancient and important than his own, i was also true that the unfortunate owner must have submitted to much worse conditions had the com mittee-man used, as others did, the full advantages which his situation gave hiu\; and Bridgenorth took credit to himself, and received it from others, for having, on this occasion, fairly sacrificed his interest to his liberality.

Sir Geoffrey Peveril was of the same opinion, and the rather that Major Bridgenorth seemed to endure his exaltation with great moderation, and was disposed to show him personally the same deference in the rise of his fortunes, which he had exhibited for merly in their early acquaintance. It is but justice to Major Bridgenorth to observe, that in this conduct he paid respect as much to the misfortunes as to the pretensions of his far-descended neighbour, and that, with the frank generosity of a blunt Englishman, he conceded points of ceremony about which he himself was indifferent, merely because he saw that his doing so gave pleasure to Sir Geoffrey. Peveril ofthe Peak did justice to his neighbour's delicacy, in consideration of which he forgot many things. He forgot that Major Bridgenorth was already in possession over a fair third of his estate, and had various pecuniary claims affecting the remainder, to the extent of one-third more.

He endeavoured even to forget, what it was still more difficult not to remember, the altered situation in which they and their mansions now stood to each other. the unexpected trial and execution ofthe king ; as a civilian and a man of property, he feared the domi nation of the military ; and though he wished not to see Charles restored by force of arms, yet he arrived at the conclusion, that to bring back the heir of the royal family on such terms of composition as might insure the protection of those popular immunities and privileges for which the Long Parliament had at first contended,would be the surest and most desirable termination to the mutations of state which had agitated Britain. Indeed, the major's ideas on this point approached so nearly those of his neighbour, that he had well nigh suffered Sir Geoffrey, who had a finger in almost all the conspiracies ofthe royalists, to involve him in the unfortunate rising of Penrud dock and Groves, in the west, in which many of the presbyterian interest, as well as the cavalier party, were engaged.

And though his habitual prudence eventually kept him out of this and other dangers, Major Bridgenorth was considered, during the last years of Cromwell's domination, and the interreg num which succeeded, as a disaffected person to the commonwealth, and a favourer of Charles Stuart. But besides this approximation to the same political opinions, another bond of intimacy united the families of the castle and the hall. Major Bridge north, fortunate, and eminently so in all his worldly transactions, was visited by severe and reiterated misfortunes in his family, and became, in this particular, an object of compassion to his poorer and more decayed neighbour. Betwixt the breaking out of the Civil War and the Restoration, he lost successively a family of no less than six children, apparently through a delicacy of constitution, which cut off the little prattlers at the early age when they most wind themselves around the heart of the parents.

Before the Civil War, the superb battlements and turrets of Martindale Castle, situated on a rock of some eminence, looked down on the red brick-built hall, as it stole out from the green plantations, just as an oak in Martindale Chase would have looked beside one ofthe stunted and formal young beechtrees with which Bridgenorth had graced his avenue ; but after the siege which we have commemorated, the enlarged and augmented hall was as much predominant in the landscape over the shattered and blackened ruins of the castle, of which only one wing was left habitable, as the youthful beech, in all its vigour of shoot and bud, would show to the same aged oak stripped of its boughs, and risted by lightning, one-half laid in shivers on the ground, and the other remaining a blackened and ungraceful trunk, rent and splintered, and without either life or leaves.

Sir Geoffrey could not but feel, that the situation and prospects ofthe two neighbours were exchanged as disadvantageously for himself as the appearance of their mansions ; and that though the authority of the man in office under the parliament, the sequestrator, and the committee-man, had been ouly exerted for the protection of the cavalier and the malignant, they would have been as effectual if applied to procure his utter ruin ; and that he was become a client, while his neighbour was elevated into a patron. There were two considerations, besides the necessity of the case and the constant advice of his lady, which enabled Peveril ofthe Peak to endure, with some patience, this state of degradation. The first was, that the politics of Major Bridgenorth began, on many points, to assimilate themselves to his own.

As a presbyterian, he was not an utter enemy to monarchy, and had been considerably shocked at In the beginning of the year 1658, Major Bridge north was childless ; ere it ended* he had a daugh ter, indeed, but her birth was purchased by the death of an affectionate wife, whose constitution had been exhausted by maternal grief, and by the anxious and harrowing reflection, that from her the children they had lost derived that delicacy of health, which proved unable to undergo the tear and wear of existence. The same voice which told Bridgenorth that he was father of a living child (it was the friendly voice of Lady Peveril), communicated to him the melancholy intelligence that he was no longer a husband. The. feelings of Major Bridge north were strong and deep, rather than hasty and vehement ; and his grief assumed the form of a sullen stupor, from which neither the friendly re monstrances of Sir Geoffrey, who did not fail to be with his neighbour at this distressing conjuncture, even though he knew he must meet the presbyterian pastor, nor the ghostly exhortations of this latter person, were able to rouse the unfortunate wi dower.

At length Lady Peveril, with the ready invention cf a female sharpened by the sight of distress and the feelings of sympathy, tried on the sufferer one of those experiments by which grief is often awakened from despondency into tears. She placed in Bridge north's arms the infant whose birth had cost him so dear, and conjured him to remember that his Alice court-door when Martindale was surrendered, and the bitterness of that hour had entered like iron into his soul. Yet such was Lady Peveril's inslnence over the prejudices of her husband, that he was in duced to connive at tUe ceremony taking place iu a remote garden-house, which was not properly within the precincts of the castle-wall. The lady even dared to be present while the ceremony was performed by the reverend Master Solsgrace, who had once preached a sermon of three hours' length before the House of Commons, upon a thanksgiving occasion after the relief of Exeter.

Sir Geoffrey Peveril took care to be absent the whole day from the castle, and it was only from the great interest which he took in the washing, perfuming, and as it were purification ofthe snmmer-house, that it could have been guessed he knew anything of what had taken place in it. But, whatever prejudices the good knight might entertain against his neighbour's form of religion, they did not in any way influence his feelings to wards him as a sufferer under severe affliction. The mode in which he showed his sympathy was rather singular, but exactly suited the character of both, and tlie terms on which they stood with each other. was not yet dead, since she survived in tlie helpless child she had left to his paternal care. "Take her away— take her away !" said the un happy man, and they were the first words he had spoken ; " let me not look on her— it is but another blossom that has bloomed to fade, and the tree that bore it will never flourish more !"

He almost threw the child into Lady PeverJI's arms, placed his hands before his face, and wept aloud. Lady Peveril did not say, " Be comforted," but she ventured to promise that the blossom should ripen to fruit " Never I never !" said Bridgenorth ; " take the unhappy child away, and let me only know when I shall wear black for her— Wear black!" he ex claimed, interrupting himself, " what other colour shall I wear during the remainder of my life V " I will take the child for a season," said Lady Peveril, " since the sight of her is so painful to you ; and the little Alice shall share the nursery of our Julian, until it shall be pleasure and not pain for you to look on her." ;' That hour will never come," said the unhappy father ; " her doom is written— she will follow the rest— God's will be done.— Lady, I thank you— I trust her to your care ; and I thank God that my eye shall not see her dying agonies."

Without detaining the reader's attention longer on this painful theme, it is enough to say that the Lady Peveril did undertake the duties of a mother to the little orphan ; and perhaps it was owing, in a great measure, to her judicious treatment of the in fant, that its feeble life was preserved, since the glimmering spark might probably have been altogether smothered, had it, like the major's former chddren, undergone the over-care and -over-nurs ing of a mother rendered nervously cautious and anxions by so many successive losses^ The lady was the more re^ly to undertake this charge, that she herself had lost two infant children ; and that she attributed the preservation of the third, now a fine healthy child of three years old, to Julian's being subjected to rather a different course of diet and treatment than was then generally practised.

She resolved to follow the same regimen with the little orphan, which she had observed in the case of her own boy, and it was equally successful. By a ' more sparing use of medicine, by a bolder admission of fresh air, by a firm, yet cautious attention to en courage rather than to supersede the exertions of nature, the puny infant, under the care of an excel lent nurse, gradually improved in strength and in liveliness. Morning after morning the good baronet made Moultrassie Hall the termination of his walk or ride, and said a single word of kindness as he passed. Sometimes he entered the old parlour where the proprietor satin solitary wretchedness and despondency; but more frequently (for Sir Geoffrey did not pretend to great talents of conversation) he paused on the terrace, and stopping or halting his horse by the latticed window, said aloud to the melancholy inmate, " How is it with you, Master Bridgenorth ?

(the knight would never acknowledge his neighbour's military rank of major ;) I just looked in to bid you keep a good heart, man, and to tell you that Ju lian is well, and little Alice is well, and all are well at Martindale Castle." A deep sigh, sometimes coupled with u I thank you, Sir Geoffrey ; my grateful duty waits on Lady Peveril," was generally Bridgenorth's only answer. But the news was received on the one part with the kindness which was designed upon the other; it gradually became less painful and more interesting ; the lattice window was never closed, nor was the leathern easy-chair which stood next to it, ever empty, when the usual hour of the baronet's momentary visit approached. At length the expectation of that passing minute became the pivot upon which the thoughts of poor Bridgenorth turned during all the rest of the day.

Most men have known the in fluence of such brief but ruling moments at some period of their lives. The moment when a lover passes the window of his mistress — the moment when the epicure hears the dinner-bell, is that into which is crowded the whole interest of the day — the hours which precede it are spent in anticipation ; the hours which follow, in reflection on what has passed ; and fancy, dwelling on each brief circumstance, gives to seconds the duration of minutes, to minutes that of hours. Thus seated in his lonely chair Bridge north could catch at a distance the stately step of Sir Geoffrey, or the heavy tramp of his war-horse, Black Sir Geoffrey, like most men of his frank and good natured disposition, was naturally fond of children, and so much compassionated the sorrows of his neighbour, that he entirely forgot his being a presbyterian, until it became necessary that the infant should be christened by a teacher of that persuasion.

This was a trying case — the father seemed in capable of giving direction; and that the threshold of Martindale Castle should be violated hy the he retical step of a dissenting clergyman, was matter of horror to its orthodox owner. He had seen the famous Hugh Peters, with a bible in one hand and a pistol in the other, ride in triumph through the Hastings, which had borne him in many an action ; he could hear the hum of " The king shall enjoy his own again," or the habitual whistle of " Cuckolds and Roundheads," die into reverential silence, as the knight approached the mansion of affliction ; and then came the strong hale voice of the huntsman soldier, with its usual greeting. now, and you and I, good neighbour, will charge abreast, as good neighbours should. See there, read — read — read — and then boot and saddle in an instant.

Hey for cavaliers— ho for cavaliers. Pray for cavaliers, Dub-a-dub, dub-a-dub, Have at old Beelzebub, By degrees, the communication became something more protracted, as Major Bridgenorth's grief, like all human feelings, lost its overwhelming violence, and permitted him to attend, in some degree, to what passed around him, to discharge various duties which pressed themselves, and to give a share of attention to the situation of the country, distracted as it was by the contending factions, whose strife only ter minated in the Restoration. Still, however, though slowly recovering from the effects of the shock which he had sustained, Major Bridgenorth felt himself as yet unable to make up his mind to the effort neces sary to see his infant; and though separated by so brief a space from the being in whose existence he was more interested than in anything the world afforded, he only made himself acquainted with the windows of the apartment where little Alice was lodged, and was often observed to watch them from the terrace, as they brightened in the evening under the influence of the setting sun.

In truth, though a strong-minded man in most respects, he was unable to lay aside the gloomy impression that this remain ing pledge of affection was soon to be conveyed t#, that grave which had already devoured all besides which was dear to him ; and he awaited in miserable suspense the moment when he should hear that symptoms of the fatal malady had begun to show themselves. Oliver shakes in his bier. After thundering forth this elegant effusion of loyal enthusiasm, the sturdy cavalier's heart became too full. He threw himself on a seat, and exclaiming, "Did ever I think to live to see this happy day!" he wept, to his own surprise, as much as to that of Bridgenorth. Upon considering the crisis in which the country was placed, it appeared to Major Bridgenorth, as it had done to Fairfax, and other leaders of the pres byterian party, that their frank embracing of the royal interest was the wisest and most patriotic measure which they could adopt in the circum stances, when all ranks and classes of men were seeking refuge from the uncertainty and varied op pression attending the repeated contests between the factions of Westminster Hall and of Walling ford House.

Accordingly he joined with Sir Geof frey, with less enthusiasm indeed, but with equal sincerity, taking such measures as seemed proper to secure their part of the country on the king's behalf, which was as effectually and peaceably executed as in other parts of England. The neighbours were both at Chesterfield, when news arrived that the king was landed in England; and Sir Geoffrey instantly announced his purpose of waiting upon his majesty, even before his return to the Castle of Martindale. But the voice of Peveril continued to be that of a comforter, until the month of April, 1660, when it suddenly assumed a new and different tone. "The king shall enjoy his own again," far from ceasing, as the hasty tread of Black Hastings came up the avenue, bore burthen to the clatter of his hoofs on the paved court-yard, as Sir Geoffrey sprung from his great war-saddle, now once more garnished with pistols of two feet in length, and, armed with steel cap, back and breast, and a truncheon in his hand, he rushed into the apartment of the astonished major, with his eyes sparkling, and his cheek in flamed, while he called out, " Up ! up, neighbour !

No time now to mope in the chimney-corner. Where is your buff-coat and broad-sword, man? Take the true side once in your life, and mend past mistakes. The king is all lenity, man — all royal nature and mercy. I will get your full pardon." " What means all this?" said Bridgenorth— " Is all well with you— all well at Martindale Castle, Sir Geoffrey?" " Well as you could wish them, Alice and Julian and all. But I have news worth twenty of that — Monk has declared at London against those stinking scoundrels the Rump. Fairfax is up in Yorkshire — for the king — for the king, man ! Churchmen, presbyterians aud all, are in burl' and bandelier for King Charles. I have a letter from Fairfax to se cure Derby and Chesterfield, with all the men I can make. D — n him, fine that I should take orders from him !

But never mind that — all are friends " Who knows, neighbour," he said, " whether Sir Geoffrey Peveril will ever return to Martindale? Titles must be going amongst them yonder, and I have deserved something among the rest. — Lord Peveril would sound well — or stay, Earl of Martin dale — no, not of Martindale — Earl of the Peak. — Meanwhile, trust your affairs to me — I will see you secured — I would you had been no presbyterian, neighbour — a knighthood, — I mean a knight-bachelor, not a knightbaronet, — would have served your turn well." " I leave these things to my betters. Sir Geof frey," said the major, " and desire nothing so earnestly as to find all well at Martindale when 1 return." " You will — you will find them all well," said the baronet; "Julian, Alice, Lady Peveril, and allot them — Bear my commendations to them, and kiss them all, neighbour, Lady Peveril and all — yon may kiss a countess when I come back ; all will go well with you now you aie turned honest man."

"I always meant to be so, Sir Geoffrey," said Bridgenorth, calmly. " Well, well, well — no offence meant," said the knight, " all is well now — so you to Moultrassie Hall, and I to Whitehall. Said . I well, aha ! So ho, mine host, a stoup of canary to the king's health ere we get to horse — I forgot, neighbour — you drink no healths." " I wish the king's health as sincerely as if I VOL. The door of the apartment opened as she spoke, and two lovely children entered. The eldest, Julian Peveril, a fine boy betwixt four and five years old led in his hand, with an air of dignified support and attention, a little girl of eighteen months, who rolled and tottered along, keeping herself with difficulty upright by the assistance of her elder, stronger, and masculine companion. Bridgenorth cast a hasty and fearful glance upon the countenance of his daughter, and, even in that glimpse, perceived, with exquisite delight, that his fears were unfounded.