The excellent education she received, the beautiful scenery in which she was reared, the clever people (George Eliot among them) with whom she was brought in contact—all conspired to expand the young girl's mind, and to pave the way for her subsequent career as a novelist. She describes their charming supper-parties at St. Andrews which were constantly joined by such learned men as Principal Tulloch, Professors Aytoun and Ferrier, and Sir David Brewster, who used to talk to her in the most fascinating manner about astronomy and other science, as "being an education in itself." Thackeray, too, gave her the greatest encouragement, and showed her much kindness. But the girlish days were coming to a close. In February, 1858, she married Lieutenant, now Post-Captain, the Hon. Henry Chetwynd, brother of Viscount Chetwynd, by whom she has a family of four sons and three daughters. Her first literary effort was a play, written at the early age of twelve, in which she acted with her brothers and sisters. It was really a wonderful production for so young a child, and a few years later she wrote several society verses, which were printed, and read with much amusement by her father, to whom, however, she had not the courage to disclose the secret of their authorship. For some years after her marriage Captain Chetwynd held some appointments enabling her to be constantly with him, but when the dreaded moment for separation came, and he was ordered on foreign service, first to the West Indies, and then to Mexico, Mrs. Chetwynd felt the solitude of the long evenings to be so oppressive after the little ones were gone to bed, that for distraction she took to her pen and wrote her first novel, called "Three Hundred A Year." It had a good sale, though on looking back on it now the author pronounces it to have been "excessively silly." Encouraged by this success, she wrote "Mademoiselle d'Estanville," which was translated into French, and had a good run. Then came "Janie" and "Life in a German Village," which passed into several editions. "Bees and Butterflies" came out first in the Pictorial World before being published in three volumes. This book the author considers to have been the most successful, financially, though "Sara" is her own favourite, and was the result of a long study. The story is founded on fact, and the incidents relating to the discovery of South End smugglers were drawn from the life, Mrs. Chetwynd having been a witness to the scene when the great cask, supposed to contain wine, was opened, and found full of white satin shoes, valuable lace, and other contraband articles. Scenes, too, in the Highlands are well depicted in this book, whilst the sketch of Sara is carefully worked out, from her first introduction as the "dethroned princess" in all her ignorance and absorption in her supposed "Gift of Poetry," to the final page when, after many vicissitudes of fortune, her soul is awakened by the love of a good man, and her really fine and noble character is fully developed. Other books written by Mrs. Chetwynd are entitled "A March Violet," "The Dutch Cousin," and "Lady Honoria's Nieces," but though want of space prevents much comment on them, they can confidently be recommended as most pleasant reading, and all are characterized by the kindly nature, the refinement, and the noble spirit of this distinguished gentlewoman's mind. She modestly says of her works, "When I think of the great competition nowadays, I am surprised that they have held their own at all, and directly a new book is out, I always feel that I should like to recall it. I have sold the copyright of most of my stories, but some are still in my own hands, and I have long since handed over all my literary business affairs to Mr. A. P. Watt, which I have found a perfectly satisfactory arrangement." The author was considerably amused a few days ago on hearing that a former old servant takes in Bow Bells regularly in order to read her late mistress's novels, which have been reproduced and are now coming out weekly in that periodical. Her two last books are called "Criss-Cross Lovers" and "A Brilliant Woman."
On asking Mrs. Chetwynd about her plots and taste in literature, she says: "I generally build up characters from my own experiences, a bit here, and a trait there, but I do not deliberately set to work to take pictures of people. I think that most persons have some particular characteristic that comes out in everything they do, and to create is better than to copy. My favourite novels are written by the Gerards, and by Mrs. L. B. Walford—I find all hers charming. Besides these, I admire George Meredith's books more than any others, the one drawback being that when I have re-read one of his I cannot interest myself in anything else for a long time. I delight in history, too, history of all nations. Things which really happened absorb me intensely. I remember when a child I had curious punishments; for being untidy I had twenty lines of Henriade to learn by heart, or a French fable. As I could repeat the Henriade from beginning to end, I must have been untidy pretty often. The English governess for punishment used to make me read twenty pages of Alison's "History of Europe" aloud in the play-hours, a fact which I once told the learned historian, and it amused him greatly. The historical punishment, however, has not deprived me of my love for history. My favourite poets are Wordsworth, Tennyson, Shelley, and Burns. I am a great needlewoman, too, and when I am ruffled by anything I take refuge in sewing a plain seam. This coverlet is from a Munich pattern, and I have finished it for my sister, Mrs. Carnegy of Lour, who began it; the tablecover is for my other sister, Mrs. Craigie-Halkett of Cramond."
It is through one of her daughters that you learn of Mrs. Chetwynd's great musical gifts. She was a pupil of Garcia, had a beautiful voice, and used to sing at many amateur concerts. She still keeps up her pianoforte playing, for which she won a gold medal, and will improvise on the piano by the hour together. Her husband and children are very proud of her performances. She has lately invented a fire-escape, which is approved of by experts and engineers, and of which more will soon be heard.
After tea, at which the party is joined by a beautiful thoroughbred Dachshund called Freda, you are taken down into the dining-room, and, in passing, just peep into a little room on the stairs, which your hostess calls her "girls' workshop," where all the wood-carving is carried on. There is a little point of interest in the dining-room which must be noticed as betokening the versatile gifts of this accomplished family. A friend had sent them a roll of paper from Japan, but, as it was found insufficient to cover the whole of the walls, Mrs. Chetwynd and her daughters put their heads together to consult as to how the balance required could be eked out. The result was, that they first distempered the uncovered part of the wall to the exact shade of the colour, and then painted it in such close imitation of the Japanese pattern, even to the native mark, that it is quite impossible to discover which is the original and which the imitation. Among the many books is a copy of "Freytag's Reminiscences," translated by Mrs. Chetwynd's second daughter, and considered by good judges to be one of the best translations from the German that has appeared for a long time. There is a picture of that grand old Highlander, Mr. Davidson of Tulloch, taken in the days when he, with your hostess's uncle, Cluny Macpherson, Fox Maule, afterwards Earl of Dalhousie, and the Duke of Abercorn, danced the first reel that the Queen ever saw in Scotland at Taymouth. By the way, Mrs. Chetwynd herself was a great performer in that line in her youth, and at some juvenile festivity she and another young Highland friend danced the reel before the late Prince Consort.
But you had forgotten thoroughly to inspect the picture of Tulloch Castle, so Mrs. Chetwynd sends for it. "I am sure," she says, "that my old home is the loveliest place in the world. Part of it is very old, and it has been (through the female line) in our family since 1300." It has an old keep, and what was once the dungeon is now a wine cellar. The house stands very high up, though almost at the foot of Ben Wyvis, and over the park you see the far-famed Strathpeffer, framed in the distance by the West Coast hills. On the other side, also over the well-wooded park, are the Cromarty Frith, and Dingwall nestling at its bend. The gardens are very large, and a good many acres are now not kept up. The approach to the front door is under a very old archway; and though a great part of the place was destroyed by fire some years ago, the walls, some of which are six feet thick, are intact. Facing the south, it catches all the sunshine, and as the hills rise behind it everything is sheltered from the colder winds, and flowers and shrubs grow most luxuriantly. Some scarlet rhododendrons of great height blossom in the winter out of doors. The place is now in the possession of Mrs. Chetwynd's nephew.
Your hostess recalls one little incident which she says was "an event in our lives. My father and Cluny Macpherson received the Queen on the occasion of her visit to Badenoch. She went to Ardverikie, then rented from Cluny by the Duke of Abercorn. My father took forty gillies with him, Cluny had as many more, and they met her majesty on the edge of the property, and escorted her in true Highland fashion. Ardverikie was afterwards sold by Cluny to Sir John Ramsden. The Queen went to Cluny Castle, and examined the many relics of 'Prince Charlie' kept there with an interest which pleased all the family much. Some of the sisters were there with my father."
You are rising regretfully to leave, when the door opens, and Captain Chetwynd comes in. This fine old sailor greets you in the same genial manner which characterises the rest of the family. He is the chief inspector of the Royal National Life-Boat Institution. He is a great organiser, is deeply interested in his work, and his wife delights to think that his talents are now turned to saving, not to destroying life. She had previously confided to you, that not only is he one of the cleverest and best of men, but also one of the most straightforward and appreciative. The good, benevolent face carries its own testimony to the fact. A more happy, united family it would be impossible to find; mutual love and confidence reign supreme; when cares and anxieties come, as to whom do they not? they are shared by all, and thus is the burden lightened.