Destiny: or, The Chief's daughter

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Chapter I

^ All the world knows that there is nothing on earth to be compared to a Highland Chief. He has his loch and his islands, his mountains and his castle, his piper and his tartan, his forests and his deer, his thousands of acres of untrodden heath, and his tens of thousands of black faced sheep, and his bands of bonneted clansmen, with claymores, and Gaelic, and hot blood, and dirks.

All these, and more, had the Chief of Glenroy ; for he had a family-tree, upon which all the birds of the air might have roosted. Doctor Johnson, to be sure, has said that there are no such things as family-trees in the Highlands ; but the Doctor's calumnies against trees of every description, or rather of no description, throughout Scotland, are too w€ll known to require refutation.

Glenroy, therefore, had a tree ; and as for his rent-roll, it was like a journey in a fairy tale, " longer, and longer, and longer, than I can tell." However, as the chief himself was not particular in ascertaining the precise amount of his income, but lived as if the whole Highlands and Islands, with their kelp and black cattle, had been at his djsposal ; it would ill become his biographer to pry into the state of his affairs, for the gratification of the curious. Suffice it therefore to say, that the Chief of Glenroy lived in a style which was deemed suitable to his rank and fortune, by all— and they were neither few nor far between— who partook of his hospitality. In person, as in fortune, Glenroy had been equally gifted. He was a tall handsome man, with fine re]gular features, a florid complexion, an open, but haughty countenance, and a lofly^ lhow\^V\ «^\s\^- what mdolent air* The inward man waa muc\i n^VoX >3ci^ Vol. L—A

2 DESTINY. X

outward man denoted. He was proud, prejudiced, and profuse ; he piqued himself upon the antiquity of his family, the heroic deeds of his ancestors, the extent of his estates, the number of his followers, their physical strength, their devoted attachment. On the other hand, ho was of an open ' tamper, of a social disposition, liberal to his tenantry, generous to his dependents, and hospitable to all. His manners, though somewhat coarse, were by no means vulgar ; and, when a little under control, he could be both pleasing and gentlemanly in his deportment.

His supremacy being universally acknowledged throughout the extensive district where his possessions lay, he bore his faculties with that sort of indolent pomp which betokens undisturbed power. He felt himself a great man; and though be did not say even to himself that he was the greatest man in the world, he certainly would have been puzzled to say who was greater.

Such was Glenroy; and with all these advantages, it was naturally expected that he would form an alliance worthy of himself and his clan, all of whom identified themselves with their chief, and consequently looked Upon his marriage as an event in which they had an undoubted interest. As it was impossible, however, that any one so great in himself could make a great marriage, his friends and followers, being reasonable people, merely expected that he would make the best marriage possible.

Greater speculation could scarcely have been excited at the court of King Ahasuerus as to a successor to the rebellious Yashti, than that which prevailed amongst the clan on the subject of forming a suitable alliance for their chief. Each had his favourite and exalted fair, in one or other of the most illustrious Scottish families, on whom he conceived that Glenroy should place his affections. But vain are the schemes of man ! Instead of these ^ glorious results, Glenroy did what many wiser men have done before him ; he fell in love, and made what was called , a *•• most unaccountable marriage ;*' for he married a merely pretty girl of neither family nor fortune, the orphan daughter of a poor hundredth cousin of his own. The fact was, Glenroy was too proud to consider it a matter of much importance whom he married: he could derive no consequence from his wife ; his wife must owe ail her dignity to him. This was a blow to the clan, which all the youth, beauty^ and sweetness pf the lady could not reconcile them to; and it was not till the birlb ot MiYk^w^ iVial 11»y recovered their spirits. But their bonfires blazed — ^bagpipes played — tartans waved — whiskey flowed — all, in short, was done to welcome to this vain world an heir to its vanities. Alas ! how short-sighted are sometimes even second-sighted mortals !

At the end of two years a daughter was born, but far otherwise was her birth commemorated. A hfeless mother— a widowed father — a funeral procession — tears, regrets, lamentations, and wo — these were the symbols that marked her entrance into life, and cast a gloom upon her infant days. The child was christened Edith, afler its mother. And so ended Gienroy's first attempt at connubial happiness.

Chapter II

Glenroy mourned the loss of his wife as much as it was in his nature to do ; but he was not the man either to live with a breaking heart, or to die of a broken one. ^ In due time, therefore, it occurred to him, that, great as his loss appeared to be, it was nevertheless one which might be repaired. But, too proud and indolent to take any measures for the accomplishment of his design, he lefl it entirely to time, chance, or circumstances, to carry it into e0ect ; and these did seem to- conspire to bring it to pads. During an occasional visit to London, he more than once happened to find him&elf in parties where ho was so much in the background, that but for the notice of the Lady Elizabeth Waldegrave, he would have passed almost unobserved. Great as Glenroy was, he therefore found he was capable of being still greater: yet greatness by means of a wife — a woman — and that wife an English. woman ! — this was a startling thought to the proud chief. But his stay in town was protracted : h&^continued to meet the Lady Elizabeth, who was so very affable and agreeable — such an enthusiastic admirer of tartan, and Highland bonnets, and Highland scenery, that Glenroy was captivated.; and he even came to the conclusion that he would not be the worse for being connected with some of the highest families in the kingdom. Then, although Lady Elizabeth was somewhat pas^eCy she was still a showy-looking woman, quite suita* ble to him in point of years, and more likely lo isv^Vl^ % good fitaid stepmolber Ihaa a younger vi'ife NVO\s\di\wie

4 DESTINr.

been. To be sure, she was not very bright ; but Glenroy hated clever women, they were all so managing and mancBuvring : in short, from an admirer, the chief became a suitor, and thought himself a lucky man when he was the accepted lover. Had Glenroy been better acquainted with the character and circumstances of the lady, he would not have been quite so much elated with his good fortune.

Lady EHzabeth Waldegrave was sister to the Marquis of Hey wood, and widow of the Honourable Edward Waldegrave, a fashionable spend-thrifl, who had closed a brief career of folly, leaving his widow and infant daughter to the charity of relations. It may be supposed, then, that Lady Elizabeth's circumstances were any thing but affluent. Shq was, in fact, struggling to keep her place in society upon a small annuity from her father-in-law. Lord Waldegrave, who, having had to pay largely for the extravagance of his son, was little inclined to be liberal to his widow and child. Glenroy 's proposals, therefore, came in good time ; and the union being of course warmly approved of by the lady's family and connexions, no obstacle stood in the. way ; so that, as soon as the lawyers and milliners had done their parts, the marriage was celebrated with the .utmost eclat. On the one side, there was a special license, the presence of a prince of the blood, the benediction of an archbishop, with peers and peeresses, lace and pearls, a magnificent saloon, an elegant d^je(iner, a line of splendid equipages, &c. Such was the scene in St James's Square ; while, at the Glenroy Arms, the event was celebrated by a numerous meeting of the tenantry and vassals of the chief, with *' barbaric pomp ;" a roasted ox, and half a score of sheep, barrels of ale and bowls of whiskey, long speeches, loud shouting, toasting, cheering, bonfires, bagpipes, and the Highland Sing.

'Much as Glenroy loved pomp and retinue, he was somewhat stdrtled at the magnitude of his lady's bridal train. In addition to his own travelling carriage and servants, there followed Miss Waldegrave's equipage, containing that young lady, about five years of age, her French governess and English sub-governess, and attended by her own maid, and the Lady Elizabeth's footmen. Glenroy thought less might have served her ; but it was too soon, or rather too late, to say so ; and Lady Elizabeth expatiated largely upon the goodness of old Lord Waldegrave, in allowing her to take his favourite son's only child to Scotland with her. The chief tried to feel sufRclenlXy gtoX^txA fot vVka ^i^nqmx conferred upon him in this addition to his family ; but, in spite of himself, he felt something like shame at this importation to Glenroy. The arrival of the new married pair was celebrated with great rejoicings. Lady Elizabeth was dresised in the clan-tartan, wore a Highland bonnet, looked well, made a speech, and was at once pronounced to be a most charming woman.

But scarcely were the rejoicings over, before Glenroy began to suspect that he had not drawn the capital prize in the marriage lottery ; and these his first faint misgivings began to assume a less questionable shape, as the features of the lady's post-nuptial character became to be more fuU ly developed. At length they boldly resolved themselves into tastes, habits, and pursuits of the most decided dissimilarity from her husband's.

How it happened that this discovery had not been made before marriage instead of after, was one of those mysteries which, though of common occurrence, have never yet been fully cleared up to the satisfaction of single-minded people. Whence it is that two pprsons who seem to have been bora only to hate each other, should, under any circumstances, ever fancy that they actually love each ^ther, is a phenomenon which even philosophers may have encountered, but which they certainly have not yet explained.

No two human beings born and bred in a civilized coun^ try could be more different than the Chief and his lady ; and as both were independent, and both had arrived at years of discretion, it seemed but natural that they should remain as fate seemed to place them— -perfect antipodes. The lady had been acciistomed to a gay London life, and she had also lived abroad. She had seen much of the worlds and the world had seen much of her. She had been admired for her talents, her manners, her music, her taste, her dress ; and although the admiration had long been on the wane, the cra^ving still continued. She was, in fact, when without her adventitious aids, a mere showy, superficial, weak woman, with a fretful temper, irritable nerves, and a constitution tending to rheumatism, which she imputed entirely to the climate of Scotland.

In direct opposition to all this, Glenroy detested London; despised every part of the globe save Scotland ; bated all music except that of the bagpipe ; had little enjoyment in any society but that of his friends and foUo^etv, w\A^^\\«vv he Bpoke of the world, meant only Vna ovjn CiO>3iTvV3 ^w\ cJan. He ht^d also become subject to aVtOLcV^ o^ vVi^ ^wiV\ A ^ which he ascribed to bis visits to LondQD, and therefore vowed he never would set foot in it again.

Although Glenroy saw much good company dt his hos- ' pitable mansion, yet it was only during a short period of the year ; for the Highlands may be said to open for the season as the King's theatre shuts ; and, thanks to grouse and deer, the one ha? become almost as fashionable a place of amusement as the other. During this season, therefore, Lady Elizabeth lived pretty much in her own element ; but when that was over, a long and dreary interval ensued : not that the house ever emptied of visiters, be the season or weather what they might, but the company was not suited to her taste, for it must be owned Gienroy was not nice in the choice of his associates. Although his vanity was gratified with occasionally entertaining the best in the land, still jthe same principle, together with his love of ease, made him prefer in general being what is called the king of his company.

Amongst sundry of his adherents, whose persons and manners were particularly obnoxious to the Lady Elizabeth, the most offensive was the Laird of Benbowie, a friend and clansman of the Chief's, who, from having been all his life in the habit of paying long and frequent visits at the castle, had gradually become domesticated tliere, to the infinite annoyance of its mistress. The Laird of Benbowie was an elderly man, of the most ordinary exterior, possessing no very distinguishing traits, except a pair of voluminous eyebrows, very round shoulders, a wig that looked as if it had been made of spun yarn, an unvarying snuff-coloured coat, and a series of the most frightful waistcoats that ever were seen. Benbowie's mental characteristics were much upon a par with his personal peculiarities. He was made up of stupidities. He was sleepy - headed and absent. He chewed tobacco, snored in presence, slobbered when he ate, walked up and down with a pair of creaking shoes, and drummed upon the table with a snufiy hand. Nay, more ; with that same obnoxious snufiy hand he actually dared to pat the^ head or shoulder . of the elegant, refined, Miss Waldegrave, as oflen as she came within his reach. But all these things were mere leather and prunella to his chief, whose feelings and perceptions were by no means so refined as his lady's. Ben- 2>owie was the very apple of his eye, for he was devoted to ^im. He never contradicted him^ or rather he invariably coincided with him-' He rode Yi'i^Vv \\\xn^ ot 'w^^^wSJa.

DESTIinf. 7

him, or sailed with him, or sat still with him. He played at backgammon with him, and when there was no one else, did well enough- to be beaten at billiards. Yet no one could call Benbowie a hanger-on ; for he had a good estate, and a pretty place of his own, both of which he neglected for the sake of living with his friend ; and al-' though he was not profuse of his own money, yet, to do him justice, he was equally sparing of his chief's.

What pleasure or profit Glenroy could find in Ben-> bowie's company, no one cbuld discover. But so it was, and Glenro}^ could have better spared a better man; although, if pressed for~a reason of his preference, he could only have resolved it into that unanswerable argument, ^^ Je I'aime parceque c^est lui," &c. Lady Elizabeth -had at once attempted to expel Benbowie from the house ; but she might as well ha"^ attemptsd to move one of his own brown mountains. Benbowie was invulnerable in his stupidity and obtuseness^ and nothing less than the united efforts of the fairy and the genie, who lifted up Prince Camaralzaman, and carried him a thousand leagues without waking him, could have made Benbowie dream of leaving a house where habit had completely domesticated him, and where his instinct made him feel comfortable and happy.

Someone has well said, '^'lorsqu'on ne pent ^teindre une lumiere, on s'en ]aiss6 eclairer ;" but Lady Elizabeth did not adopt this wise maxim. She could not extinguish Benbowie's light, faint and dark as it was, neither would* she permit it to shine even in its native dim eclipse. The consequence was, that poor Benbowie, who seemed to have been born without a single spark of fire in his composition, became a sort of smouldering brand in the family of his friend. As neither the chief nor his lady were young enough to be moulded anew, or wise enough to iifake the most of what each mutually thought a bad bargain, it may be supposed their lives did* not glide away like that of Parnell's Hermit, in one clear unruffled stream, but rather lesembled the course of their own mountain torrents, which chafe, foam, murmur, and take their own way.

8 DESTntT.

Chapter III

Time rolled on, but did nothing to smooth the asperities of GIenro}r and his lady. Pride was the ruling passion of both ; and unhappily there was no mutual object on which they might concentrate this predominant principle. The Lady Elizabeth added no branches to the family tree ; and thus the unjust and o?erweening partiality of each parent for their own separate offspring continued to grow with their growth^ and strengthen with their strength.

Such was the state of the chief's family when he received a visit from his brother-in-law, Sir Angus Malcolm, with his only son, a spoiled handsome boy about the same age as his cousin Norman. Sir Angus was a widower, and had been recently appointed to a high command in India, whither he was to proceed when he should have found a situation for his son, suited to the anxieties of a fond parent. But that was a matter of difficulty, as indeed it

- must be to any one to part with his choicest treasure, and commit it to untried love and alien tenderness. Why did he leave it ? For wealth — that which tempts so many to " leave each thing beloved most dearly." Sir Angus had a fine estate, but it was loaded with debt. Time, sdf-denial, and management, might have retrieved it ; but to wait on the one, and submit to the other^ was not in the nature of an impetuous, open-hearted, open-handed Highlander; and he preferred the easier task of retrieving his fortune by methods more congenial to him in a foreign

^ land. His only care was to secure a safe and happy asylum for his cliild ; and as, besides being allied to Glenroy by marfiage, he was also his nearest kinsman by> blood, he flattered himself the chief would take charge of his son, and educate him with his own. His only doubt was with regard to Lady Elizabeth, of whom he bad not heard the most favourable reports ; but he was a sanguine, good-natured, undisccrning man, and his little misgivings were quickly dispelled by the affectionate and gracious reception be met with. Glenroy was more than hospitably kind ; and his lady, won by the admiration expressed for Iter darling, and the beautiful presents bestowed upon her,

acted a most amiable and deVighlfu\ patl. Gl^ivioy at once

anticipated the subject uppermost m IViq \>tq^«\. ol ^^^^^ rent, by inviting him to leave his boy with him during his absence ; and in a few minutes all was settled, to the mutual satisfaction of both parties. Lady Elizabeth waa flattered by seeing that it was to her the father looked for care and protection to his son ; and her vanity was gratified at becoming the patroness of the young heir to an ancient title and noble fortune. But, above all, her favour was secured bythe predilection evinced' by the young Reginald towards Florinda. Upon being asked by his father which of his two cousins he would choose for his wife, he declared instantly in favour of Florinda, as being by far the prettiest ; he then followed up the avowal of his admiration with an offer to marry her, which was no less promptly agreed to on the lady's part, especially when she heard of the gold, and diamonds, and pearls that wer« awaiting her.

The little Florinda was indeed an uncommonly pretty child, with a skin of dazzling whiteness, a profusion of - golden ringlets, large blue eyes, a sylph-like figure, and an air of distinction, which, although not always, the accompaniment of high birth, is rarely to be seen except among the true patrician orders. She was also of a gay, sportive disposition, and winning manners ; thus her natural endowments and early acquirements rendered her a perfect epitome of feminine grace and beauty. Edith, on the contrary, possessed no uncommon attractions for the superficial observer. Her features were sofl and delicate, her countenance mild and thoughtful, and lier manners more grave than is usual at her age ; for no fond mother's heart had ever pillowed her infant head, no tender mother's hand had wiped away her childish tears, and even a father's "^ arms were seldom open to her, for Norman's place was there. Disregarded or checked in the natural expression « of her feelings, she gradually learnt to repress them within her own breast ; and while, to cai^eless observers, the feelings themselves seemed wanting, the roots had only struck the deeper into the heart, while the shoots were thus carelessly trodden down.

Editir was too much accustomed to see Florinda preferred to her to feel any of the envy and heart-burnings of an ofifeilded rival, but meekly yielded up the prize. Lady Elizabeth was silly enough to feel gratified at this childish fancy, and continued so kind and caressing to her little son-in-law (as she styled him) during the week his father remained, that he departed with a mind Te\\e\ed ^tom viJ\ doubts and fears as to the situation in wbicVi Vi^ \vQL<i\bl^.^^^^ BO/} and beir»

i

Chapter IV

For a little time all went on smoothly in the youthful circle of Glenroy ; but, unhappily, inconstancy is known in childhood as well as in manhood, and Reginald began tov discover that even the beautiful Florinda had her faults. She was very greedy, and was too much petted, and wanted every thing her own way ; and as he had been accustomed to be no less despotic, many a childish squabble ensued. At length, not having the fear of damages for breach of promise of marriage before hia eyes, he in a transport of indignation one day declared that he had quite changed his mind ; that she was not to^be called his wife any more, for that he was going to take Edith ; she was much better tempered, would part with any of her playthings to him, and never cried when she was contradicted ; and, at any rate, brown hair and pale cheeks were much prettier than yellow hair and pink ones ; in short, '* for any other reason why," his affections were transferred. Lady Elizabeth was weak enough to resent this affront, and to enter into all the childish feuds that followed, aggravated as they of\en were by nursery maids, to whom a spoiled unruly boy is always a subject of torment, and, of course, of blame.

The consequence was, her fondness of Reginald, which had always been of a very precarious nature, now turned 4i4nto downright aversion; while he, unused to control at home, and encouraged by Glenroy in all bis freaks, set her authority completely at defiance. Even Benbowie, his tobacco, his snore, his shoes, and his waistcoats, almost all ceased to be objects of animosity, compared with this new annoyance. At length matters came to a climax, and threatened to add one more to the many proofs that great events do oflen spring from trivial causes.

One day when the two boys and Edith were engaged in some play, in which Florinda was deemed incompetent to join, to get rid of her importunities Reginald lent*^her his watch, the parting gifl of his father ; receiving many assurances in return, tliat she would take the greatest care of it. These promises, however, were soon forgotten ; the watch was opened^ examined, wound up and broken. Summary revenge 13 always the first \mpM\sG of the childish Aeart; and Regiaald, in his rage, shook YWxtvii^ mVV ^^

. DBSTIN7. 11

Bis might, slapped her on the cheek, and even left the print of his nails on her arm. Her shrieks soon brought Xady Elizabeth to the spot, when she found her darling almost oonvulsed wil^h terror and indignation at this rude assault. The extreme fairness and delicacy of her skin rendered the stightest touch at all times perceptible, and on the present occasion showed the ofience in glowing colours, and told a tale of outrage that raised all the mother in Lady Elizabeth's breast. In vain did Norman and Edith attempt to palliate the offence by detailing the provocation, and declaring that Reginald had not meant to hurt her. They were sure he had only just given her a slap for breaking his watch. Lady Elizabeth would listen to nothing but the sobs and exclamations of her darling ; till at length she worked herself up to assert, ai\d of course to believe, that her child had been seriously hurt, and would have been killed, had not she come to her rescue ; the whole was wound up w4th the soothing assurance to her angel, that the savage should be sent from the house that very day.

^'But this house is not yours," retorted Reginald with equal warmth ; ^^ it is my uncle's house, and I am to stay here till my papa comes home, and then I shall make him send that wicked monkey to prison for breaking my watch. The little wretch ! I hate and despise her for telling lies, — yes, you shall go to prison, and be fed on bread and water, you little lying yellow-haired wasp !" And he shook his hand at her with renewed vehemence.

"This is past all endurance," cried Lady Elizabeth, with violence : " begone, all of you !" And in the recklessness of her anger she pushed Edith, who had been upon her knees caressing and soothing Florinda, as she lay in her mamma's lap. Edith, fell and struck her temple against the corner of the chair, but she uttered no cry.

"There!" cried Reginald, as he flew to help her up ; " see what you have done to Edith, and how good she is ! But Betty M'lvor says you are very bad to Edith, and don't love her, becaase she is not your child ; but / love her, and she is to be my wife, and she shall be all covered with gold and diamonds that my papa is to bring me. Yes, that you shall Edith ! But she shall have nothing but dirty old rags to wear, and good enough, too ; for Betty M^Ivor says her skin is just like cream cheese, and her hair like a lint-tap."

A fresb burst of screams and tears from \X\e fcit ^Vstvwda made Lady Elizabeth hastily withdraw from the scene of action. In the tumult of exasperated and exaggerated feeling, she hastened to Glenroy ; and, denbuncing Reginald as the destroyer of her child, demanded that both he and Betty M^Ivor should be sent from the house. A scorn- • ful and peremptory n^gative was of course returned. The lady persisted, as she commonly did ; and rising in her passion at the contemptuous indifference her complaints met with, she at last declared her determination of lea^ving the house, and taking her child along with her, unless her demand was complied with. This threat, being treat* ed with anger and derision, led to a scene of altercation and mutual recrimination. When people are ready primed for quarrelling, a very little matter will serve the purpose, just as a single spark applied to a train of gunpowder will do the business of an earthquake. So it was with Glenroy and his lady. It had been touch-and-go with them for many a day ; and now, from less to more, from bad to worse, it ended in a threatened separation. The lady, declared she would go, and the chief woiild not ask her to stay. Glenroy would have been the last man to have turned his wife and her child from his house, however obnoxious they might have been, and he felt rather annoyed, at the thoughts of such a thing being said ; but he was too proud to betray his feelings, or to make afiy concession : he merely contented himself with remarking to Benbowie, that if her ladyship chose to go, she might go ; she was welcome to go or to stay, for him. ' "V^ery right, Glenroy; on my conscience, that's very right," responded Benbowie ; "but if she goes, 1 wish you may not have to aliment her."

The acrimonious feelings of the parents could not fail to keep alive the resentment of the children. A spirit of absolute hatred towards each other seemed to burn in the youn^* hearts of Reginald and Florinda ; and they never met, without mutual provocation being given and ,taken in full measure; In vain the gentle Edith strove to reconcile them ; no sooner was an old offence patched up, than a new one broke out : and the only thing they both agreed ii? was in liking her.