by Walter Scott
CHAPTER XX
A HIGHLAND FEAST
Ere Waverley entered the banqueting hall, he was offered the patriarchalrefreshment of a bath for the feet, which the sultry weather, and themorasses he had traversed, rendered highly acceptable. He was not,indeed, so luxuriously attended upon this occasion as the heroictravellers in the Odyssey; the task of ablution and abstersion beingperformed, not by a beautiful damsel, trained
To chafe the limb, and pour the fragrant oil,
but by a smoke-dried skinny old Highland woman, who did not seem tothink herself much honoured by the duty imposed upon her, but mutteredbetween her teeth, 'Our father's herds did not feed so near together,that I should do you this service.' A small donation, however, amplyreconciled this ancient handmaiden to the supposed degradation; and, asEdward proceeded to the hall, she gave him her blessing, in the Gaelicproverb, 'May the open hand be filled the fullest.'
The hall, in which the feast was prepared, occupied all the first storeyof Ian nan Chaistel's original erection, and a huge oaken table extendedthrough its whole length. The apparatus for dinner was simple, even torudeness, and the company numerous, even to crowding. At the head ofthe table was the Chief himself, with Edward, and two or three Highlandvisitors of neighbouring clans; the elders of his own tribe, wadsetters,and tacksmen, as they were called, who occupied portions of his estateas mortgagers or lessees, sat next in rank beneath them, their sons,and nephews, and foster-brethren; then the officers of the Chief'shousehold, according to their order; and, lowest of all, the tenantswho actually cultivated the ground. Even beyond this long perspective,Edward might see upon the green, to which a huge pair of folding doorsopened, a multitude of Highlanders of a yet inferior description, who,nevertheless, were considered as guests, and had their share both ofthe countenance of the entertainer, and of the cheer of the day. In thedistance, and fluctuating round this extreme verge of the banquet, was achangeful group of women, ragged boys and girls, beggars, young and old,large greyhounds, and terriers, and pointers, and curs of low degree;all of whom took some interest, more or less immediate, in the mainaction of the piece.
This hospitality, apparently unbounded, had yet its line of economy.Some pains had been bestowed in dressing the dishes of fish, game, &c.,which were at the upper end of the table, and immediately under theeye of the English stranger. Lower down stood immense clumsy jointsof mutton and beef, which, but for the absence of pork, [17.]abhorred in the Highlands, resembled the rude festivity of the banquetof Penelope's suitors. But the central dish was a yearling lamb, called'a hog in har'st,' roasted whole. It was set upon its legs, with a bunchof parsley in its mouth, and was probably exhibited in that form togratify the pride of the cook, who piqued himself more on the plentythan the elegance of his master's table. The sides of this poor animalwere fiercely attacked by the clansmen, some with dirks, others with theknives which were usually in the same sheath with the dagger, so that itwas soon rendered a mangled and rueful spectacle. Lower down still, thevictuals seemed of yet coarser quality, though sufficiently abundant.Broth, onions, cheese, and the fragments of the feast, regaled the sonsof Ivor who feasted in the open air.
The liquor was supplied in the same proportion, and under similarregulations. Excellent claret and champagne were liberally distributedamong the Chief's immediate neighbours; whisky, plain or diluted, andstrong beer, refreshed those who sat near the lower end. Nor did thisinequality of distribution appear to give the least offence. Every onepresent understood that his taste was to be formed according to therank which he held at table; and, consequently, the tacksmen and theirdependants always professed the wine was too cold for their stomachs,and called, apparently out of choice, for the liquor which was assignedto them from economy. [See Note 18.] The bagpipers, three in number,screamed, during the whole time of dinner, a tremendous war-tune;and the echoing of the vaulted roof, and clang of the Celtic tongue,produced such a Babel of noises, that Waverley dreaded his ears wouldnever recover it. Mac-Ivor, indeed, apologized for the confusionoccasioned by so large a party, and pleaded the necessity of hissituation, on which unlimited hospitality was imposed as a paramountduty. 'These stout idle kinsmen of mine,' he said, 'account my estateas held in trust for their support; and I must find them beef andale, while the rogues will do nothing for themselves but practise thebroadsword, or wander about the hills, shooting, fishing, hunting,drinking, and making love to the lasses of the strath. But what can Ido, Captain Waverley? everything will keep after its kind, whether itbe a hawk or a Highlander.' Edward made the expected answer, in acompliment upon his possessing so many bold and attached followers.
'Why, yes,' replied the Chief,' were I disposed, like my father, to putmyself in the way of getting one blow on the head, or two on the neck,I believe the loons would stand by me. But who thinks of that in thepresent day, when the maxim is,--"Better an old woman with a purse inher hand, than three men with belted brands?"' Then, turning to thecompany, he proposed the 'Health of Captain Waverley, a worthy friend ofhis kind neighbour and ally, the Baron of Bradwardine.'
'He is welcome hither,' said one of the elders, 'if he come from CosmoComyne Bradwardine.'
'I say nay to that,' said an old man, who apparently did not mean topledge the toast: 'I say nay to that;--while there is a green leaf inthe forest, there will be fraud in a Comyne.'
'There is nothing but honour in the Baron of Bradwardine,' answeredanother ancient; 'and the guest that comes hither from him should bewelcome, though he came with blood on his hand, unless it were blood ofthe race of Ivor.'
The old man, whose cup remained full, replied, 'There has been bloodenough of the race of Ivor on the hand of Bradwardine.'
'Ah! Ballenkeiroch,' replied the first, 'you think rather of the flashof the carbine at the Mains of Tully-Veolan, than the glance of thesword that fought for the cause at Preston.'
'And well I may,' answered Ballenkeiroch; 'the flash of the gun cost mea fair-haired son, and the glance of the sword has done but little forKing James.'
The Chieftain, in two words of French, explained to Waverley, that theBaron had shot this old man's son in a fray near Tully-Veolan aboutseven years before; and then hastened to remove Ballenkeiroch'sprejudice, by informing him that Waverley was an Englishman, unconnectedby birth or alliance with the family of Bradwardine; upon which the oldgentleman raised the hitherto-untasted cup, and courteously drank tohis health. This ceremony being requited in kind, the Chieftain madea signal for the pipes to cease, and said aloud, 'Where is the songhidden, my friends, that Mac-Murrough cannot find it?'
Mac-Murrough, the family BHAIRDH, an aged man, immediately took thehint, and began to chant, with low and rapid utterance, a profusion ofCeltic verses, which were received by the audience with all the applauseof enthusiasm. As he advanced in his declamation, his ardour seemed toincrease. 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 attendedto him with much interest, to recite many proper names, to lament thedead, to apostrophize the absent, to exhort, and entreat, and animatethose who were present. Waverley thought he even discerned his own name,and was convinced his conjecture was right, from the eyes of the companybeing at that moment turned towards him simultaneously. The ardour ofthe poet appeared to communicate itself to the audience. Their wild andsunburnt countenances assumed a fiercer and more animated expression;all bent forward towards the reciter, many sprang up and waved theirarms in ecstasy, and some laid their hands on their swords. When thesong ceased, there was a deep pause, while the aroused feelings of thepoet and of the hearers gradually subsided into their usual channel.
The Chieftain, who during this scene had appeared rather to watchthe emotions which were excited, than to partake their high tone ofenthusiasm, filled with claret a small silver cup which stood by him.'Give this,' he said to an attendant, 'to Mac-Murrough nan Fo
nn (i.e. ofthe songs), and when he has drunk the juice, bid him keep, for the sakeof Vich Ian Vohr, the shell of the gourd which contained it.' The giftwas received by Mac-Murrough with profound gratitude; he drank the wine,and, kissing the cup, shrouded it with reverence in the plaid whichwas folded on his bosom. He then burst forth into what Edward justlysupposed to be an extemporaneous effusion of thanks, and praises of hisChief. It was received with applause, but did not produce the effectof his first poem. It was obvious, however, that the clan regardedthe generosity of their Chieftain with high approbation. Many approvedGaelic toasts were then proposed, of some of which the Chieftain gavehis guest the following versions:--'To him that will not turn his backon friend or foe.' 'To him that never forsook a comrade.' 'To him thatnever bought or sold justice.' 'Hospitality to the exile, and brokenbones to the tyrant.' 'The lads with the kilts.' 'Highlanders, shoulderto shoulder,'--with many other pithy sentiments of the like nature.
Edward was particularly solicitous to know the meaning of that songwhich appeared to produce such effect upon the passions of thecompany, and hinted his curiosity to his host. 'As I observe,' saidthe Chieftain, 'that you have passed the bottle during the lastthree rounds, I was about to propose to you to retire to my sister'stea-table, who can explain these things to you better than I can.Although I cannot stint my clan in the usual current of their festivity,yet I neither am addicted myself to exceed in its amount, nor do I,'added he, smiling, 'keep a Bear to devour the intellects of such as canmake good use of them.'
Edward readily assented to this proposal, and the Chieftain, saying afew words to those around him, left the table, followed by Waverley. Asthe door closed behind them, Edward heard Vich Ian Vohr's health invokedwith a wild and animated cheer, that expressed the satisfaction of theguests, and the depth of their devotion to his service.
