The Scottish Cavalier: An Historical Romance, Volume 1 (of 3)Grant, James
History
The Scottish Cavalier: An Historical Romance, Volume 1 (of 3)
Grant, James
Scotland -- History -- 1649-1660 -- Fiction
Young Walter, from his well-knit figure, and a determined aspect
which he had acquired by his camp education, was as great a favourite
among the starched little damoiselles of the Countess's
withdrawing-room, as his clenched fist and bent brows made him a
terror at times to the little cavaliers whose jealousy he excited;
and his military preceptors (the old Royals, then battling and
broiling at Tangiers) had inculcated a pugnacity of disposition that
sometimes was very troublesome; and he once proceeded so far as to
d--n the old Dowager of Drumsturdy pretty roundly, and draw his
poniard on the young lord her son, who, with his companions, had
mocked him as "a covenanter's brat." The Countess made him crave
pardon of the little noble, and they shook hands like two
cut-and-thrust gallants of six feet high.
But when their companions, with childish malevolence, taunted poor
Walter as "my lord's loon," "the soldier's varlet," or "the powder
puggy," epithets which always kindled his rage and drew tears from
his eyes, Lilian, ever gentle and kind, wept with him, espoused his
cause, and told that "Walter's mother was a noble lady, for the
Countess had her ring of gold;" and the influence of the little
nymph, with her cheeks like glowing peaches, and her bright hair
flowing in sunny ringlets around a face ever beaming with
happiness--was never lost, or failed to maintain peace among them.
And thus days passed swiftly into years, and the girl was twelve and
the boy sixteen when they were separated. Walter followed his noble
patron to the field, when the landing of Argyle in the west, and
Monmouth in the south, threw Britain into a flame. Dunbarton, now a
general officer, marched with the Scottish forces against the former;
but Walter, as a volunteer, served under Colonel Halkett, with a
battalion of Scottish musqueteers, at the battle of Sedgemoor, where
he felt what it was to have lead bullets rebounding from his buff
coat and headpiece. Since then he had been serving as a private
gentleman; but in a country like Scotland, swarming with idle young
men of good birth and high spirit, who despised every occupation save
that of arms, preferment came not, and he had too often experienced
the mortification of seeing others obtain what he justly deemed his
due, the commission of King James VII.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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