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diff --git a/41623-8.txt b/41623-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index e0c08d6..0000000 --- a/41623-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,9248 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Spell of Scotland, by Keith Clark - - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - - - - -Title: The Spell of Scotland - The Spell Series - - -Author: Keith Clark - - - -Release Date: December 14, 2012 [eBook #41623] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - - -***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SPELL OF SCOTLAND*** - - -E-text prepared by Greg Bergquist and the Online Distributed Proofreading -Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made available by -Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries (http://archive.org/details/toronto) - - - -Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this - file which includes the original illustrations. - See 41623-h.htm or 41623-h.zip: - (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/41623/41623-h/41623-h.htm) - or - (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/41623/41623-h.zip) - - - Images of the original pages are available through - Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries. See - http://archive.org/details/spellofscotland00claruoft - - - - - -THE SPELL OF SCOTLAND - - +--------------------------------------------------------+ - | | - | THE SPELL SERIES | - | | - | _Each volume with one or more colored plates and | - | many illustrations from original drawings or special | - | photographs. Octavo, decorative cover, gilt top, | - | boxed._ | - | | - | _Per volume, net $2.50; carriage paid $2.70_ | - | | - | BY ISABEL ANDERSON | - | | - | THE SPELL OF BELGIUM | - | THE SPELL OF JAPAN | - | THE SPELL OF THE HAWAIIAN ISLANDS AND THE PHILIPPINES | - | | - | BY CAROLINE ATWATER MASON | - | THE SPELL OF ITALY | - | THE SPELL OF SOUTHERN SHORES | - | THE SPELL OF FRANCE | - | | - | BY ARCHIE BELL | - | THE SPELL OF EGYPT | - | THE SPELL OF THE HOLY LAND | - | | - | BY KEITH CLARK | - | THE SPELL OF SPAIN | - | THE SPELL OF SCOTLAND | - | | - | BY W. D. MCCRACKAN | - | THE SPELL OF TYROL | - | THE SPELL OF THE ITALIAN LAKES | - | | - | BY EDWARD NEVILLE VOSE | - | THE SPELL OF FLANDERS | - | | - | BY BURTON E. STEVENSON | - | THE SPELL OF HOLLAND | - | | - | BY JULIA DE W. ADDISON | - | THE SPELL OF ENGLAND | - | | - | BY NATHAN HASKELL DOLE | - | THE SPELL OF SWITZERLAND | - | | - | THE PAGE COMPANY | - | 53 Beacon Street Boston, Mass. | - +--------------------------------------------------------+ - - -[Illustration: _The Pass of Killiecrankie_ (_See page 195_)] - - -THE SPELL OF SCOTLAND - -by - -KEITH CLARK - -Author of "The Spell of Spain," etc. - - "A Traveller may lee wi authority." (Scotch Proverb) - -[Illustration] - -Illustrated - - - - - - - -Boston -The Page Company -MDCCCCXVI - -Copyright, 1916, by -The Page Company - -All rights reserved - -First Impression, November, 1916 - -The Colonial Press -C. H. Simonds Company, Boston, U. S. A. - - - - - TO - THE LORD MARISCHAL - - - - -CONTENTS - - - CHAPTER PAGE - I. HAME, HAME, HAME! 1 - II. SCOTTS-LAND 24 - III. BORDER TOWNS 53 - IV. THE EMPRESS OF THE NORTH 82 - V. THE KINGDOM OF FIFE 149 - VI. TO THE NORTH 171 - VII. HIGHLAND AND LOWLAND 194 - VIII. THE CIRCLE ROUND 220 - IX. THE WESTERN ISLES 252 - X. THE LAKES 277 - XI. THE WEST COUNTRY 314 - BIBLIOGRAPHY 335 - INDEX 339 - - - - -LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS - - - PAGE - THE PASS OF KILLIECRANKIE (_in full colour_) - (_See page 195_) _Frontispiece_ - MAP OF SCOTLAND 1 - JAMES VI 6 - QUEEN MARY 15 - JAMES II 25 - MELROSE ABBEY 34 - ABBOTSFORD (_in full colour_) 41 - THE STUDY, ABBOTSFORD 45 - ST. MARY'S AISLE AND TOMB OF SIR WALTER SCOTT, DRYBURGH ABBEY 51 - JEDBURGH ABBEY 63 - HERMITAGE CASTLE 66 - NEWARK CASTLE 74 - INTERIOR VIEW, TIBBIE SHIEL'S INN 77 - ST. MARY'S LAKE 80 - EDINBURGH CASTLE (_in full colour_) 86 - MONS MEG 90 - GREYFRIARS' CHURCHYARD 96 - MORAY HOUSE 102 - INTERIOR OF ST. GILES 104 - JOHN KNOX'S HOUSE 106 - JAMES GRAHAM, MARQUIS OF MONTROSE 108 - HOLYROOD PALACE 111 - JAMES IV 115 - MARGARET TUDOR, QUEEN OF JAMES IV 124 - BOTHWELL CASTLE (_in full colour_) 131 - PRINCES STREET 134 - JOHN GRAHAM OF CLAVERHOUSE, VISCOUNT DUNDEE 142 - TANTALLON CASTLE 157 - ST. ANDREWS CASTLE 165 - DRAWING-ROOM, LINLITHGOW PALACE, WHERE QUEEN MARY WAS BORN 184 - HUNTINGTON TOWER 190 - GLAMIS CASTLE 194 - GLEN TILT 197 - INVERCAULD HOUSE 200 - BALMORAL CASTLE 205 - MARISCHAL COLLEGE 207 - DUNNOTTAR CASTLE 212 - SPYNIE CASTLE 224 - CAWDOR CASTLE (_in full colour_) 227 - BATTLEFIELD OF CULLODEN 232 - THE OLD MAN OF HOY 237 - EARL'S PALACE, KIRKWALL 240 - INVERGARRY CASTLE 248 - KILCHURN CASTLE 258 - AROS CASTLE 265 - ENTRANCE TO FINGAL'S CAVE 267 - CATHEDRAL OF IONA AND ST. MARTIN'S CROSS 273 - DUMBARTON CASTLE 282 - LOCH KATRINE 289 - THE BRIG O' TURK 294 - THE TROSSACHS (_in full colour_) 296 - STIRLING CASTLE (_in full colour_) 304 - DOUNE CASTLE 310 - PORTRAIT OF THOMAS CARLYLE, BY WHISTLER 317 - AYR RIVER (_in full colour_) 322 - BURNS' COTTAGE, BIRTH-PLACE OF ROBERT BURNS, AYR 328 - CAERLAVEROCK CASTLE 333 - - - - -[Illustration: SCOTLAND] - - - - -THE - -SPELL OF SCOTLAND - - - - -CHAPTER I - -HAME, HAME, HAME! - - "It's hame, and it's hame, hame fain wad I be, - And it's hame, hame, hame, to my ain countree!" - - -Time was when half a hundred ports ringing round the semi-island of -Scotland invited your boat to make harbour; you could "return" at almost -any point of entry you chose, or chance chose for you. - -To-day, if you have been gone for two hundred and fifty years, or if you -never were "of Scotia dear," except as a mere reading person with an -inclination toward romance, you can make harbour after a transatlantic -voyage at but one sea-city, and that many miles up a broad in-reaching -river. Or, you can come up the English roads by Carlisle or by -Newcastle, and cross the Border in the conquering way, which never yet -was all-conquering. There is shipping, of course, out of the half -hundred old harbours. But it is largely the shipping that goes and -comes, fishing boats and coast pliers and the pleasure boats of the -western isles. - -You cannot come back from the far corners of the earth--to which -Scotland has sent such majorities of her sons, since the old days when -she squandered them in battle on the Border or on the Continent, to the -new days when she squanders them in colonization so that half a dozen of -her counties show decline in population--but you must come to Glasgow. -The steamers are second-class compared with those which make port -farther south. They are slower. But their very lack of modern splendour -and their slow speed give time in which to reconstruct your Scotland, -out of which perhaps you have been banished since the Covenant, or the -Fifteen, or the Forty Five; or perhaps out of which you have never taken -the strain which makes you romantic and Cavalier, or Presbyterian and -canny. We who have it think that you who have it not lose something very -precious for which there is no substitute. We pity you. More clannish -than most national tribesmen, we cannot understand how you can endure -existence without a drop of Scotch. - -Always when I go to Scotland I feel myself returning "home." -Notwithstanding that it is two centuries and a bittock since my clerical -ancestor left his home, driven out no doubt by the fluctuant fortunes of -Covenanter and Cavalier, or, it may be, because he believed he carried -the only true faith in his chalice--only he did not carry a -chalice--and, either he would keep it undefiled in the New World, or he -would share it with the benighted in the New World; I know not. - -All that I know is that in spite of the fact that the Scotch in me has -not been replenished since those two centuries and odd, I still feel -that it is a search after ancestors when I go back to Scotland. And, if -a decree of banishment was passed by the unspeakable Hanoverians after -the first Rising, and lands and treasure were forfeited, still I look on -entire Scotland as my demesne. I surrender not one least portion of it. -Not any castle, ruined or restored, is alien to me. Highlander and -Lowlander are my undivisive kin. However empty may seem the moorlands -and the woodlands except of grouse and deer, there is not a square foot -of the twenty-nine thousand seven hundred eighty-five square miles but -is filled for me with a longer procession, if not all of them royal, -than moved ghostly across the vision of Macbeth. - -Nothing happens any longer in Scotland. Everything has happened. Quite -true, Scotland may some time reassert itself, demand its independence, -cease from its romantic reliance on the fact that it did furnish to -England, to the British Empire, the royal line, the Stewarts. Even Queen -Victoria, who was so little a Stewart, much more a Hanoverian and a -Puritan, was most proud of her Stewart blood, and regarded her summers -in the Highlands as the most ancestral thing in her experience. - -Scotland may at sometime dissolve the Union, which has been a union of -equality, accept the lower estate of a province, an American "state," -among the possible four of "Great Britain and Ireland," and enter on a -more vigorous provincial life, live her own life, instead of exporting -vigour to the colonies--and her exportation is almost done. She may fill -this great silence which lies over the land, and is fairly audible in -the deserted Highlands, with something of the human note instead of the -call of the plover. - -But, for us, for the traveler of to-day, and at least for another -generation, Scotland is a land where nothing happens, where everything -has happened. It has happened abundantly, multitudinously, splendidly. -No one can regret--except he is a reformer and a socialist--the absence -of the doings of to-day; they would be so realistic, so actual, so -small, so of the province and the parish. Whereas in the Golden Age, -which is the true age of Scotland, men did everything--loving and -fighting, murdering and marauding, with a splendour which makes it seem -fairly not of our kind, of another time and of another world. - -You must know your Scottish history, you must be filled with Scottish -romance, above all, you must know your poetry and ballads, if you would -rebuild and refill the country as you go. Not only over fair Melrose -lies the moonlight of romance, making the ruin more lovely and more -complete than the abbey could ever have been in its most established -days, but over the entire land there lies the silver pall of moonlight, -making, I doubt not, all things lovelier than in reality. - -We truly felt that we should have arranged for "a hundred pipers an' a' -an' a'." But we left King's Cross station in something of disguise. The -cockneys did not know that we were returning to Scotland. Our landing -was to be made as quietly, without pibroch, as when the Old Pretender -landed at Peterhead on the far northeastern corner, or when the Young -Pretender landed at Moidart on the far western rim of the islands. And -neither they nor we pretenders. - -The East Coast route is a pleasant way, and I am certain the hundred -pipers, or whoever were the merry musicmakers who led the English troops -up that way when Edward First was king, and all the Edwards who followed -him, and the Richards and the Henrys--they all measured ambition with -Scotland and failed--I am certain they made vastly more noise than this -excellently managed railway which moves across the English landscape -with due English decorum. - -We were to stop at Peterborough, and walk out to where, "on that -ensanguined block at Fotheringay," the queenliest queen of them all laid -her head and died that her son, James Sixth of Scotland, might become -First of England. We stopped at York for the minster, and because -Alexander III was here married to Margaret, daughter of Henry III; and -their daughter being married to Eric of Norway in those old days when -Scotland and Norway were kin, became mother to the Maid of Norway, -one of the most pathetic and outstanding figures in Scottish history, -simply because she died--and from her death came divisions to the -kingdom. - -[Illustration: JAMES VI.] - -We paused at Durham, where in that gorgeous tomb St. Cuthbert lies -buried after a brave and Scottish life. We only looked across the -purpling sea where already the day was fading, where the slant rays of -the sun shone on Lindisfarne, which the spirit of St. Cuthbert must -prefer to Durham. - -All unconsciously an old song came to sing itself as I looked across -that wide water-- - - "My love's in Germanie, - Send him hame, send him hame, - My love's in Germanie, - Fighting for royalty, - He's as brave as brave can be, - Send him hame, send him hame!" - -Full many a lass has looked across this sea and sung this lay--and shall -again. - -The way is filled with ghosts, long, long processions, moving up and -down the land. A boundary is always a lodestone, a lodeline. Why do men -establish it except that other men dispute it? In the old days England -called it treason for a Borderer, man or woman, to intermarry with -Scotch Borderer. The lure, you see, went far. Even so that kings and -ladies, David and Matilda, in the opposing edges of the Border, married -each other. And always there was Gretna Green. - -Agricola came this way, and the Emperor Severus. There is that -interesting, far-journeying Æneas Sylvius Piccolomini, the "Gil Blas of -the Middle Ages," who later became Pius II. He came to this country by -boat, but becoming afraid of the sea, returned by land, even opposite to -the way we are going. Froissart came, but reports little. Perhaps -Chaucer, but not certainly. George Fox came and called the Scots "a dark -carnal people." - -With the Act of Union the stream grows steady and full. There is Ben -Jonson, trudging along the green roadway out yonder; for on foot, and -all the way from London, he came northward to visit William Drummond of -Hawthornden. Who would not journey to such a name? But, alas, a fire -destroyed "my journey into Scotland sung with all the adventures." All -that I know of Ben is that he was impressed with Lomond--two hundred -years before Scott. - -And there trails Taylor, "water poet," hoping to rival Rare Ben, on his -"Pennyless Pilgrimage," when he actually went into Scotland without a -penny, and succeeded in getting gold to further him on his way--"Marr, -Murraye, Elgin, Bughan, and the Lord of Erskine, all of these I thank -them, gave me gold to defray my charges in my journey." - -James Howell, carries a thin portfolio as he travels the highway. But we -must remember that he wrote his "Perfect Description of the People and -Country of Scotland" in the Fleet. - -Here is Doctor Johnson, in a post chaise. Of course, Sir! "Mr. Boswell, -an active lively fellow is to conduct me round the country." And he's -still a lively conductor. Surely you can see the Doctor, in his high -boots, and his very wide brown cloth great coat with pockets which might -be carrying two volumes of his folio dictionary, and in his hand a large -oak staff. One tries to forget that years before this journey he had -said to Boswell, "Sir, the noblest prospect that a Scotchman ever sees -is the highroad that leads him to London." And, was there any malice in -Boswell's final record--"My illustrious friend, being now desirous to be -again in the great theater of life and animated existence"? - -The poet Gray preceded him a little, and even John Wesley moves along -the highroad seeking to save Scottish souls as well as English. A few -years afterward James Hogg comes down this way to visit his countryman, -Tammas Carlyle in London; who saw Hogg as "a little red-skinned stiff -rock of a body with quite the common air of an Ettrick shepherd." - -There is Scott, many times, from the age of five when he went to Bath, -till that last journey back from Italy--to Dryburgh! And Shadowy Jeanie -Deans comes downward, walking her "twenty-five miles and a bittock a -day," to save her sister from death. - -Disraeli comes up this way when he was young and the world was his -oyster. Stevenson passes up and down, sending his merry men up and down. -And one of the most native is William Winter--"With a quick sense of -freedom and of home, I dashed across the Border and was in Scotland." - -There is a barricade of the Cheviots stretching across between the two -countries, but the Romans built a Wall to make the division more -apparent. In the dawn of the centuries the Romans came hither, and -attempting to come to Ultima Thule, Picts and Scots--whatever they were, -at least they were brave--met the Romans on the Border, as yet -unreported in the world's history and undefined in the world's -geography, and sent them back into what is England. The Romans in single -journeys, and in certain imperial attempts, did penetrate as far as -Inverness. But they never conquered Scotland. Only Scotland of all the -world held them back. And in order to define their defeat and to place -limits to the unlimited Roman Empire, the Great Wall was built, built by -Hadrian, that men might know where civilization, that splendid thing -called Roman civilization, and barbarism did meet. Scotland was -barbarism. And I think, not in apology but in all pride, she has -remained something of this ever since. Never conquered, never subdued. - -The Wall was, in truth, a very palpable thing, stretching from the -Solway to the North Sea at the Tyne, with ample width for the constant -patrol, with lookout towers at regular and frequent intervals, with -soldiers gathered from every corner of the Empire, often the spawn of -it, and with much traffic and with even permanent villas built the -secure side of the barrier. If you meet Puck on Pook's hill, he will -tell you all about it. - -Our fast express moves swiftly northward, through the littoral of -Northumberland, as the ship bearing Sister Clare moved through the sea-- - - "And now the vessel skirts the strand - Of mountainous Northumberland; - Towns, towers, and hills successive rise, - And catch the nun's delighted eyes." - - -_Berwick_ - -The voyager enters Berwick with a curious feeling. It is because of the -voyagers who have preceded him that this town is singular among all the -towns of the Empire. It is of the Empire, it is of Britain; but battled -round about, and battled for as it has been since ambitious time began, -it is of neither England nor Scotland. "Our town of Berwick-upon-Tweed," -as the phrase still runs in the acts of Parliament, and in the royal -proclamations; not England's, not Scotland's. Our town, the King's town. - -For it is an independent borough (1551) since the men who fared before -us could not determine which should possess it, and so our very own time -records that history in an actual fact. I do not suppose the present -serious-looking, trades-minded people of the city, with their dash of -fair Danish, remember their singular situation day by day. The tumult -and the shouting have died which made "the Border" the most embattled -place in the empire, and Berwick-upon-Tweed the shuttlecock in this -international game of badminton. - -It is a dual town at the best. But what has it not witnessed, what -refuge, what pawn, has it not been, this capital of the Debatable Land, -this Key of the Border. - -The Tweed is here spanned by the Royal Border Bridge, opened in 1850, -and called "the last Act of Union." But there is another bridge, a Roman -bridge of many spans, antique looking as the Roman-Moorish-Spanish -bridge at Cordova, and as antique as 1609, an Act of Union following -swiftly on the footsteps of King James VI--who joyously paused here to -fire a salute to himself, on his way to the imperial throne. - -The walls of Berwick, dismantled in 1820 and become a promenade for -peaceful townsfolk and curious sightseers, date no farther back than -Elizabeth's time. But she had sore need of them; for this "our town," -was the refuge for her harriers on retaliatory Border raids, -particularly that most terrible Monday-to-Saturday foray of 1570, that -answer to an attempt to reassert the rights of Mary, when fifty castles -and peels and three hundred villages were laid waste in order that -Scotland might know that Elizabeth was king. - -It was her kingly father, the Eighth Henry, who ordered Hertford into -Scotland--"There to put all to fire and sword, to burn Edinburgh town, -and to raze and deface it, when you have sacked it and gotten what you -can of it, as there may remain forever a perpetual memory of the -vengeance of God lighted upon it for their falsehood and disloyalty. -Sack Holyrood House and as many towns and villages about Edinburgh as ye -conveniently can. Sack Leith and burn it and subvert it, and all the -rest, putting man, woman and child to fire and sword without exception, -when any resistance is made against you. And this done, pass over to the -Fife land, and extend like extremities and destructions in all towns and -villages whereunto ye may reach conveniently, not forgetting among the -rest, so to spoil and turn upside down the Cardinal's town of St. -Andrews, as the upper stone may be the nether, and not one stick stand -by another, sparing no creature alive within the same, especially such -as either in friendship or blood be allied to the Cardinal. The -accomplishment of all this shall be most acceptable to the Majesty and -Honour of the King." - -Berwick has known gentler moments, even marrying and giving in marriage. -It was at this Border town that David, son of the Bruce, and Joanna, -sister of Edward III, were united in marriage. Even then did the -kingdoms seek an Act of Union. And Prince David was four, and Princess -Joanna was six. There was much feasting by day and much revelry by -night, among the nobles of the two realms, while, no doubt, the babies -nodded drowsily. - -[Illustration: QUEEN MARY.] - -At Berwick John Knox united himself in marriage with Margaret Stewart, -member of the royal house of Stewart, cousin, if at some remove, from -that Stewart queen who belonged to "the monstrous regiment of women," -and to whose charms even the Calvinist John was sensitive. One remembers -that at Berwick John was fifty, and Margaret was sixteen. - -There is not much in Berwick to hold the attention, unless one would -dine direct on salmon trout just drawn frae the Tweed. There are -memories, and modern content with what is modern. - -Perhaps the saddest eyes that ever looked on the old town were those of -Queen Mary, as she left Jedburgh, after her almost fatal illness, and -after her hurried ride to the Hermitage to see Bothwell, and just before -the fatal affair in Kirk o' Field. Even then, and even with her spirit -still unbroken, she felt the coming of the end. "I am tired of my life," -she said more than once to Le Croc, French ambassador, on this journey -as she circled about the coast and back to Edinburgh. - -She rode toward Berwick with an escort of a thousand men, and looked -down on the town from Halidon Hill, on the west, where two hundred years -before (1333) the Scots under the regent Douglass had suffered defeat by -the English. - -It was an old town then, and belonged to Elizabeth. But it looked much -as it does to-day; the gray walls, so recently built; the red roofs, -many of them sheltering Berwickians to-day; the church spires, for men -worshiped God in those days in churches, and according to the creeds -that warred as bitterly as crowns; masts in the offing, whence this last -time one might take ship to France, that pleasant smiling land so -different from this dour realm. At all these Mary must have looked -wistfully and weariedly, as the royal salute was fired for this errant -queen. She looked also, over the Border, then becoming a hard-and-fast -boundary, and down the long, long road to Fotheringay, and to peace at -last and honour, in the Abbey. - -It is well to stand upon this hill, before you go on to the West and the -Border, or on to the North and the gray metropolis, that you may -appreciate both the tragedy and the triumph that is Scotland's and was -Mary's. The North Sea is turning purple far out on the horizon, and -white sea birds are flying across beyond sound. The long level light of -the late afternoon is coming up over England. In the backward of the -Border a plaintive curlew is crying in the West, as he has cried since -the days of Mary, and æons before. - - -_Flodden_ - -You may go westward from here, by train and coach, and carriage and on -foot, to visit this country where every field has been a battlefield, -where ruined peel towers finally keep the peace, where castles are in -ruins, and a few stately modern homes proclaim the permanence of -Scottish nobility; and where there is no bird and no flower unsung by -Scottish minstrelsy, or by Scott. Scott is, of course, the poet and -prose laureate of the Border. "Marmion" is the lay, almost the -guide-book. It should be carried with you, either in memory or in -pocket. - -If the day is not too far spent, the afternoon sun too low, you can make -Norham Castle before twilight, even as Marmion made it when he opened -the first canon of Scott's poem-- - - "Day set on Norham's castle steep - And Tweed's fair river, broad and deep, - And Cheviot's mountains lone; - The battled towers, the donjon keep, - The loophole grates, where captives weep, - The flanking walls that round it sweep, - In yellow luster shone." - -There is but a fragment of that castle remaining, and this, familiar to -those who study Turner in the National Gallery. A little village with -one broad street and curiously receding houses attempts to live in the -shadow of this memory. The very red-stone tower has stood there at the -top of the steep bank since the middle Eleven Hundreds. Henry II held it -as a royal castle, while his craven son John--not so craven in -battle--regarded it as the first of his fortresses. Edward I made it his -headquarters while he pretended to arbitrate the rival claims of the -Scottish succession, and to establish himself as the Lord Superior. On -the green hill of Holywell nearby he received the submission of Scotland -in 1291--the submission of Scotland! - -Ford castle is a little higher up the river, where lodged the dubious -lady with whom the king had dalliance in those slack days preceding -Flodden--the lady who had sung to him in Holyrood the challenging ballad -of "Young Lochinvar!" James was ever a Stewart, and regardful of the -ladies. - - "What checks the fiery soul of James, - Why sits the champion of dames - Inactive on his steed?" - -The Norman tower of Ford (the castle has been restored), called the -King's tower, looks down on the battlefield, and in the upper room, -called the King's room, there is a carved fireplace carrying the -historic footnote-- - - "King James ye 4th of Scotland did lye - here at Ford castle, A. D. 1513." - -Somehow one hopes that the lady was not sparring for time and Surrey, -and sending messages to the advancing Earl, but truly loved this Fourth -of the Jameses, grandfather to his inheriting granddaughter. - -Coldstream is the station for Flodden. But the village, lying a mile -away on the Scotch side of the Tweed, has memories of its own. It was -here that the most famous ford was found between the two countries, -witness and way to so many acts of disunion; from the time when Edward -I, in 1296, led his forces through it into Scotland, to the time when -Montrose, in 1640, led his forces through it into England. - - "There on this dangerous ford and deep - Where to the Tweed Leet's eddies creep - He ventured desperately." - -The river was spanned by a five-arch bridge in 1763, and it was over -this bridge that Robert Burns crossed into England. He entered -the day in his diary, May 7, 1787. "Coldstream--went over to -England--Cornhill--glorious river Tweed--clear and majestic--fine -bridge." - -It was the only time Burns ever left Scotland, ever came into England. -And here he knelt down, on the green lawn, and prayed the prayer that -closes "The Cotter's Saturday Night"-- - - "O Thou who pour'd the patriot tide - That streamed through Wallace's undaunted heart, - Who dared to nobly stem tyrannic pride - Or nobly die, the second glorious part, - (The patriot's God, peculiarly Thou art, - His friend, inspirer, guardian and reward!) - O never, never, Scotia's realm desert; - But still the patriot and the patriot bard, - In bright succession raise, her ornament and guard!" - -Surely a consecration of this crossing after its centuries of unrest. - -General Monk spent the winter of 1659 in Coldstream, lodging in a house -east of the market-place, marked with its tablet. And here he raised -the first of the still famous Coldstream Guards, to bring King Charles -"o'er the water" back to the throne. Coldstream is the Gretna Green of -this end of the Border, and many a runaway couple, noble and simple, has -been married in the inn. - -Four miles south of Coldstream in a lonely part of this lonely -Border--almost the echoes are stilled, and you hear nothing but -remembered bits of Marmion as you walk the highway--lies Flodden Field. -It was the greatest of Scotch battles, not even excepting Bannockburn; -greatest because the Scotch are greatest in defeat. - -It was, or so it seemed to James, because his royal brother-in-law Henry -VIII was fighting in France, an admirable time wherein to advance into -England. James had received a ring and a glove and a message, from Anne -of Brittany, bidding him - - "Strike three strokes with Scottish brand - And march three miles on Scottish land - And bid the banners of his band - In English breezes dance." - -James was not the one to win at Flodden, notwithstanding that he had -brought a hundred thousand men to his standard. They were content to -raid the Border, and he to dally at Ford. - - "O for one hour of Wallace wight, - Or well skill'd Bruce to rule the fight, - And cry--'Saint Andrew and our right!' - Another sight had seen that morn - From Fate's dark book a leaf been torn, - And Flodden had been Bannockburn!" - -The very thud of the lines carries you along, if you have elected to -walk through the countryside, green now and smiling faintly if deserted, -where it was brown and sere in September, 1513. One should be repeating -his "Marmion," as Scott thought out so many of its lines riding over -this same countryside. It is a splendid, a lingering battle picture-- - - "And first the ridge of mingled spears - Above the brightening cloud appears; - And in the smoke the pennon flew, - As in the storm the white sea mew, - Then mark'd they, dashing broad and far, - The broken billows of the war; - And plumed crests of chieftains brave, - Floating like foam upon the wave, - But nought distinct they see. - Wide ranged the battle on the plain; - Spears shook, and falchions flash'd amain, - Fell England's arrow flight like rain, - Crests rose and stooped and rose again - Wild and disorderly." - -Thousands were lost on both sides. But the flower of England was in -France, while the flower of Scotland was here; and slain--the king, -twelve earls, fifteen lords and chiefs, an archbishop, the French -ambassador, and many French captains. - -You walk back from the Field, and all the world is changed. The green -haughs, the green woodlands, seem even in the summer sun to be dun and -sere, and those burns which made merry on the outward way--can it be -that there are red shadows in their waters? It is not "Marmion" but Jean -Elliott's "Flower of the Forest" that lilts through the memory-- - - "Dule and wae was the order sent our lads to the Border, - The English for once by guile won the day; - The Flowers of the Forest that foucht aye the foremost, - The pride of our land are cauld in the clay. - - "We'll hear nae mair liltin' at the eve milkin', - Women and bairns are heartless and wae; - Sighin' and moanin' on ilka green loanin'-- - The Flowers of the Forest are a' wede away." - -I know not by what alchemy the Scots are always able to win our sympathy -to their historic tragedies, or why upon such a field as Flodden, and -many another, the tragedy seems but to have just happened, the loss is -as though of yesterday. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -SCOTTS-LAND - - -It is possible to enter the Middle Marches from Berwick; in truth, Kelso -lies scarcely farther from Flodden than does Berwick. But Flodden is on -English soil to-day, and memory is content to let it lie there. These -Middle Marches however are so essentially Scottish, the splendour and -the romance, the history and the tragedy, that one would fain keep them -so, and come upon them as did the kings from David I, or even the Celtic -kings before him, who sought refuge from the bleak Scottish north in -this smiling land of dales and haughs, of burns and lochs. Not at any -moment could life become monotonous even in this realm of romance, since -the Border was near, and danger and dispute so imminent, so incessant. - -Preferably then one goes from Edinburgh (even though never does one go -from that city, "mine own romantic town," but with regret; not even -finally when one leaves it and knows one will not return till next -time) to Melrose; as Scottish kings of history and story have passed -before. There was James II going to the siege of Roxburgh, and not -returning; there was James IV going to the field of Flodden and not -returning; there was James V going to hunt the deer; there was James VI -going up to London to be king; Mary Queen on that last journey to the -South Countrie; Charles I and Charles II losing and getting a crown; -Charles III--let us defy history and call the Bonnie Prince by his -title--when he went so splendidly after Prestonpans. - -[Illustration: JAMES II.] - -It is a royal progress, out of Edinburgh into the Middle Marches; past -Dalkeith where James IV rode to meet and marry Margaret of England; past -Borthwick, where Queen Mary spent that strange hot-trod honeymoon with -Bothwell--of all place of emotion this is the most difficult to realize, -and I can but think Mary's heart was broken here, and the heartbreak at -Carberry Hill was but an echo of this; past Lauder, where the nobles of -ignoble James III hung his un-noble favourite from the stone arch of the -bridge; into the level rays of a setting sun--always the setting sun -throws a more revealing light than that of noonday over this Scotland. - - -_Melrose_ - -I remember on my first visit to Melrose, of course during my first visit -to Scotland, I scheduled my going so as to arrive there in the evening -of a night when the moon would be at the full. I had seen it shine -gloriously on the front of York, splendidly on the towers of Durham. -What would it not be on fair Melrose, viewed aright? - -I hurried northward, entered Edinburgh only to convey my baggage, and -then closing my eyes resolutely to all the glory and the memory that lay -about, I went southward through the early twilight. I could see, would -see, nothing before Melrose. - -The gates of the Abbey were, of course, closed. But I did not wish to -enter there until the magic hour should strike. The country round about -was ineffably lovely in the rose light of the vanishing day. - - "Where fair Tweed flows round holy Melrose - And Eildon slopes to the plain." - -The Abbey was, of course, the center of thought continually, and its -red-gray walls caught the light of day and the coming shadows of night -in a curious effect which no picture can report; time has dealt -wondrously with this stone, leaving the rose for the day, the gray for -the night. - -I wandered about, stopping in the empty sloping market-place to look at -the Cross, which is as old as the Abbey; looking at the graveyard which -surrounds the Abbey, where men lie, common men unsung in Scottish -minstrelsy, except as part of the great hosts, men who heard the news -when it was swift and fresh from Bannockburn, and Flodden, and Culloden; -and where men and women still insert their mortality into this -immortality--Elizabeth Clephane who wrote the "Ninety and Nine" lies -there; and out into the country and down by the Tweed toward the Holy -Pool, the Haly Wheel, to wonder if when I came again in the middle -night, I, too, should see the white lady rise in mist from the waters, -this lady of Bemersyde who had loved a monk of Melrose not wisely but -very well, and who drowned herself in this water where the monk in -penance took daily plunges, come summer, come winter. How often this is -the Middle-Age penalty! - -Far across the shimmering green meadows and through the fragrant -orchards came the sound of bagpipes--on this my first evening in -Scotland! And whether or not you care for the pipes, there is nothing -like them in a Scottish twilight, a first Scottish twilight, to -reconstruct all the Scotland that has been. - -The multitudes and the individuals came trooping back. At a time of -famine these very fields were filled with huts, four thousand of them, -for always the monks had food, and always they could perform miracles -and obtain food; which they did. That for the early time. And for the -late, the encampment of Leslie's men in these fields before the day when -they slaughtered Montrose's scant band of royalists at Philipshaugh, and -sent that most splendid figure in late Scottish history as a fugitive to -the north, and to the scaffold. - -I knew that in the Abbey before the high altar lay the high heart of The -Bruce, which had been carried to Spain and to the Holy Land, by order of -Bruce, since death overtook him before he could make the pilgrimage. -Lord James Douglass did battle on the way against the Moslems in -southern Spain, where "a Douglass! a Douglass!" rang in battle clash -against "Allah, illah, allah," and the Douglass himself was slain. The -heart of The Bruce flung against the infidel, was recovered and sent on -to Jerusalem, and then back to Melrose. The body of Douglass was brought -back to Scotland, to St. Bride's church in Douglass, and his heart also -lies before the high altar of Melrose. "In their death they were not -divided." - -There lies also buried Michael Scot - - "Buried on St. Michael's night, - When the bell toll'd one and the moon was bright." - -On such a night as this, I hoped. And Scot is fit companion for the -twilight. This strange wizard of a strange time was born in Upper -Tweedale, which is the district of Merlin--the older wizard lies buried -in a green mound near Drummelzier. Michael traveled the world over, -Oxford, Paris, Bologna, Palermo, Toledo, and finally, perhaps because -his wizardry had sent him like a wandering Jew from place to place, back -to the Border, his home country, where he came and served the Evil One. -Dante places him in the Purgatory of those who attempt blasphemously to -tear the veil of the future. The thirteenth century was not the time in -which to increase knowledge, whether of this world or the next. Even -to-day perhaps we save a remnant of superstition, and we would not boast - - "I could say to thee - The words that cleft the Eildon hills in three." - -Very dark against the gathering dark of the night sky rose the Eildon -hills above, cleft in three by the wizardry of Scot. To that height on -the morrow I should climb, for it is there that Sir Walter Scott, a -later wizard, had carried our Washington Irving, just a century ago, and -shown him all this Borderland--which lay about me under the increasing -cover of night. - -"I can stand on the Eildon Hill and point out forty-three places famous -in war and verse," Sir Walter said to our Irving. "I have brought you, -like a pilgrim in the Pilgrim's Progress, to the top of the Delectable -Mountains, that I may show you all the goodly regions hereabouts. Yonder -is Lammermuir and Smailholm; and there you have Galashiels and -Torwoodelee and Gala Water; and in that direction you see Teviotdale and -the Braes of Yarrow; and Ettrick stream winding along like a silver -thread to throw itself into the Tweed. It may be pertinacity, but to my -eye, these gray hills and all this wild Border country have beauties -peculiar to themselves. When I have been for some time in the rich -scenery about Edinburgh, which is like an ornamented garden land, I -begin to wish myself back again among my own honest gray hills; and if I -did not see the heather at least once a year, I think I should die." - -On the morrow. But for to-night it was enough to remember that perfect -picture as imagination painted it in Andrew Lang's verse-- - - "Three crests against the saffron sky, - Beyond the purple plain, - The kind remembered melody - Of Tweed once more again. - - "Wan water from the Border hills, - Dear voice from the old years, - Thy distant music lulls and stills, - And moves to quiet tears. - - "Like a loved ghost thy fabled flood - Fleets through the dusky land; - Where Scott, come home to die, has stood, - My feet returning, stand. - - "A mist of memory broods and floats, - The Border waters flow; - The air is full of ballad notes - Borne out of long ago. - - "Old songs that sung themselves to me, - Sweet through a boy's day dream, - While trout below the blossom'd tree - Plashed in the golden stream. - - "Twilight, and Tweed, and Eildon Hill, - Fair and too fair you be; - You tell me that the voice is still - That should have welcomed me." - -I did not miss the voice, any of the voices. They whispered, they sang, -they crooned, they keened, about me. For this was Melrose, _mael ros_, -so the old Celtic goes, "the naked headland in the wood." And I was -seeing, was hearing, what I have come to see and hear; I, a Scot, if far -removed, if in diluted element, and Scott's from the reading days of -Auld Lang Syne. - -And should I not within the moonlight see the white lady rise from the -Haly Wheel? And should I not see the moonlight flooding the Abbey, -Melrose Abbey? Out of a remembered yesterday, out of a confident -midnight--surely there was a budding morrow in this midnight--I -remembered the lines-- - - "If thou would'st view fair Melrose aright, - Go visit it by the pale moonlight; - For the gay beams of lightsome day - Gild but to flout the ruins gray. - When the broken arches are black in night, - And each shafted oriel glimmers white, - When the cold light's uncertain shower - Streams on the ruined central tower; - When buttress and buttress alternately - Seem framed of ebon and ivory; - When silver edges the imagery, - And the scrolls that teach thee to live and die; - When distant Tweed is heard to rave, - And the owlet to hoot o'er the dead man's grave, - Then go--but go alone the while-- - Then view St. David's ruined pile; - And, home returning, soothly swear - Was never scene so sad and fair." - -The moon did not rise that night. - -I walked about the fields, lingered about the Cross in the market, -looked expectantly at the Abbey, until two in the morning. - - "It was near the ringing of matin bell, - The night was well nigh done." - -The moon did not rise, and neither did the white lady. It was not -because there was a mist, a Scottish mist, over the heavens; they were -clear, the stars were shining, and the pole star held true, Charles' -wain--as Charles should in Bonnie Scotland--held true to the pole. But -it was a late July moon, and those Eildon hills and their circling kin -rose so high against the night sky--daytime they seemed modest -enough--that the moon in this latitude as far north as Sitka did not -circle up the sky. Neither does the sun in winter, so the guardian -explained to me next day. - -Fair Melrose is fairest, o' nights, at some later or earlier time of the -year. It was then that I resolved to return in December, on December 27, -when the festival of St. John's is celebrated with torch lights in the -ruins of the Abbey--and Michael Scot comes back to his own! But then I -reflected that the moon is not always full on the Eve of St. John's. - - "I cannot come, I must not come, - I dare not come to thee, - On the Eve of St. John's, I must walk alone, - In thy bower I may not be." - -I chose, years later, an October moon, in which to see it "aright." - -Viewed by day, Melrose is surely fair; fair enough to enchant mortal -vision. It is the loveliest ruin in the land where reform has meant -ruin, and where from Kelso to Elgin, shattered fanes of the faith -proclaim how variable is the mind of man through the generations, and -how hostile when it forsakes. - -Melrose is an old foundation. In truth the monastery was established at -old Melrose, two miles farther down the Tweed, and is so lovely, so -dramatic a corner of the Tweed, that Dorothy Woodsworth declared, "we -wished we could have brought the ruins of Melrose to this spot." She -missed the nearby murmur of the river as we do. - -This oldest harbour of Christianity was founded in the pagan world by -monks from Iona. Therefore by way of Ireland and not from Rome, blessed -by Saint Columba sixty years before Saint Augustine came to -Canterbury. It was the chief "island" between Iona and Lindisfarne. Very -haughty were these monks of the West. "Rome errs, Alexandria errs, all -the world errs; only the Scots and the Britons are in the right." There -is surely something still left of the old spirit in Scotia, particularly -in spiritual Scotia. - -[Illustration: MELROSE ABBEY.] - -Near Melrose was born that Cuthbert who is the great saint of the North, -either side the Border, and who lies in the midst of the splendour of -Durham. A shepherd, he watched his sheep on these very hills round about -us, and saw, when abiding in the fields, angels ascending and descending -on golden ladders. Entering Melrose as a novice he became prior in 664, -and later prior at Lindisfarne. When the monks were driven from the Holy -Island by the Danes they carried the body of St. Cuthbert with them for -seven years, and once it rested at Melrose-- - - "O'er northern mountain, march and moor, - From sea to sea, from shore to shore, - Seven years St. Cuthbert's corpse they bore, - They rested them in fair Melrose; - But though alive he loved it well, - Not there his relics might repose." - -When King David came to the making of Scotland, he came into the Middle -Marches, and finding them very lovely--even as you and I--this "sair -sanct to the Croon," as his Scottish royal descendant, James VI saw -him--and James would have fell liked to be a saint, but he could -accomplish neither sinner nor saint, because Darnley crossed Mary in his -veins--David determined to build him fair Abbeys. Of which, Melrose, -"St. David's ruined pile," is the fairest. He brought Cistercians from -Rievaulx in Yorkshire, to supplant the Culdees of Iona, and they builded -them a beautiful stone Melrose to supplant the wooden huts of old -Melrose. It centered a very active monastic life, where pavements were -once smooth and lawns were close-clipped, and cowled monks in long robes -served God, and their Abbot lorded it over lords, even equally with -kings. - -But it stood on the highway between Dunfermline and London, between -English and Scottish ambitions. And it fell before them. Edward I spared -it because the Abbots gave him fealty. But Edward II, less royal in -power and in taste, destroyed it. The Bruce rebuilded it again, greater -splendour rising out of complete ruin. When Richard II came to Scotland -he caused the Abbey to be pillaged and burned. And when Hertford came -for Henry VIII, after the Thirty Nine Articles had annulled respect for -buildings under the protection of Rome, the final ruin came to St. -David's church-palace. Yet, late as 1810, church service, reformed, of -course, was held in a roofed-over part of the Abbey ruin. To-day it is -under the protection of the Dukes of Buccleuch. And, we remember as we -stand here, while the beams of lightsome day gild the ruin, the mottoes -of the great family of the Border, _Luna Cornua Reparabit_, which being -interpreted is, "There'll be moonlight again." Then to light the raids, -the reiving that refilled the larder. But to-morrow for scenic effect. - -Examined in this daylight, the beauty of Melrose surely loses very -little. It is one of the most exquisite ruins in the United Kingdom, -perhaps second to Tintern, but why compare? It is of finest Gothic, out -of France, not out of England. In its general aspect it is nobly -magnificent-- - - "The darken'd roof rose high aloof - On pillars, lofty, light and small; - The keystone that locked each ribbed aisle - Was a fleur de lys or a quatre feuille, - The corbels were carved grotesque and grim; - And the pillars with clustered shafts so trim, - With base and with capital flourish'd around - Seem'd bundles of lances which garlands had bound." - -And, as a chief detail which yields not to Tintern or any other, is the -east window over the high altar, through which the moon and sun shines -on those buried hearts-- - - "The moon on the east oriel shone - Through slender shafts of shapely stone, - By foliaged tracery combined. - Thou would'st have thought some fairy'd hand - 'Twixt poplars straight the osier wand - In many a freakish knot had twined, - Then framed a spell when the work was done, - And changed the willow wreaths to stone. - The silver light, so pale and faint, - Showed many a prophet and many a saint, - Whose image on the glass was dyed, - Full in the midst his cross of red - Triumphant Michael brandish'd, - And trampled on the Apostate's pride; - The moonbeams kissed the holy pane, - And threw on the pavement a bloody stain." - - -_Abbotsford_ - -If "Scott restored Scotland," he built the "keep" which centers all the -Scott-land of the Border side. - -Two miles above Melrose, a charming walk leads to Abbotsford; redeemed -out of a swamp into at least the most memory-filled mansion of all the -land. Scott, like the monks, could not leave the silver wash of the -Tweed; and, more loving than those who dwelt at Melrose and Dryburgh, he -placed his Abbot's House where the rippling sound was within a stone's -throw. - -The Tweed is such a storied stream that as you walk along, sometimes -across sheep-cropped meadows, sometimes under the fragant rustling bough -and athwart the shifting shadows of oak, ash, and thorn--Puck of Pook's -hill must have known the Border country in its most embroidered -days--you cannot tell whether or not the deep quiet river is the noblest -you have seen, or the storied hills about are less than the Delectable -mountains. - -The name "Tweed" suggests romance--unless instead of having read your -Scott you have come to its consciousness through the homespun, alas, -to-day too often the factory-spun woolens, which are made throughout all -Scotland, but still in greatest length on Tweedside. - -Dorothy Wordsworth, winsome marrow, who loved the country even better -than William, I trow--only why remark it when he himself recognized how -his vision was quickened through her companionship?--has spoke the word -Tweed--"a name which has been sweet in my ears almost as far back as I -can remember anything." - -The river comes from high in the Cheviot hills, where East and West -Marches merge and where-- - - "Annan, Tweed, and Clyde - Rise a' out o' ae hillside." - -And down to the sea it runs, its short hundred miles of story-- - - "All through the stretch of the stream, - To the lap of Berwick Bay." - -As you walk along Tweedside, you feel its enchantment, you feel the -sorrow of the thousands who through the centuries have exiled themselves -from its banks, because of war, or because of poverty, or because of -love-- - - "Therefore I maun wander abroad, - And lay my banes far frae the Tweed." - -But now, you are returned, you are on your way to Abbotsford, there are -the Eildons, across the river you get a glimpse of the Catrail, that -sunken way that runs along the boundary for one-half its length, and may -have been a fosse, or may have been a concealed road of the Romans or -what not. Scott once leaped his horse across it, nearly lost his life, -and did lose his confidence in his horsemanship. - -[Illustration: _Abbotsford_] - - "And all through the summer morning - I felt it a joy indeed - To whisper again and again to myself, - This is the voice of the Tweed." - -It is not possible to approach Abbotsford, as it should be approached, -from the riverside, the view with which one is familiar, the view the -pictures carry. Or, it can be done if one would forego the walk, take it -in the opposite direction, and come hither by rail from Galashiels--that -noisy modern factory town, once the housing place for Melrose pilgrims, -which to-day speaks nothing of the romance of Gala water, and surely not -these factory folk "can match the lads o' Gala Water." It is a short -journey, and railway journeys are to be avoided in this land of -by-paths. But there, across the water, looking as the pictures have it, -and as Scott would have it, rises Abbotsford, turreted and towered, -engardened and exclusive. - -It stands on low level ground, for it is redeemed out of a duckpond, out -of Clarty hole. Sir Walter wished to possess the Border, or as much of -it as might be, so he made this first purchase of a hundred acres in -1811. As he wrote to James Ballantyne-- - -"I have resolved to purchase a piece of ground sufficient for a cottage -and a few fields. There are two pieces, either of which would suit me, -but both would make a very desirable property indeed, and could be had -for between 7,000 and 8,000 pounds, or either separate for about half -that sum. I have serious thoughts of one or both." - -He began with one, and fourteen years later, when the estate had -extended to a thousand acres, to the inclusion of many fields, -sheep-cropped and story-haunted, he entered in his diary-- - -"Abbotsford is all I can make it, so I am resolved on no more building, -and no purchases of land till times are more safe." - -By that time the people of the countryside called him "the Duke," he had -at least been knighted, and was, in truth, the Chief of the Border; a -royal ambition which I doubt not he cherished from those first days when -he read Percy under a platanus. - -He paid fabulous prices for romantic spots, and I think would have -bought the entire Border if the times had become safer, in those scant -seven years that were left to him. Even Scott could be mistaken, for he -bought what he believed was Huntlie Bank, where True Thomas had his love -affair with the fair ladye-- - - "True Thomas lay on Huntlie Bank; - A ferlie he spied wi' his e'e; - And there he saw a ladye bright - Come riding down by the Eildon tree. - - "Her skirt was o' the grass-green silk, - Her mantle o' the velvet fyne; - At ilka tett o' her horse's mane - Hung fifty siller bells and nine." - -And now the experts tell us that it is not Huntlie Bank at all, but that -is in an entirely different direction, over toward Ercildoune and the -Rhymer's Tower. - -There is a satisfaction in this to those of us who believe in fairies -and in Scott. For fairies have no sense of place or of time. And of -course if they knew that Scott wished them to have lived at his Huntlie -Bank, they straightway would have managed to have lived there. Always, -as you go through this land of romance, or any romance land, and wise -dull folk dispute, you can console yourself that Scott also was -mistaken(?). - -The castle began with a small cottage, not this great pile of gray stone -we can see from the railway carriage across the Tweed, into which we -make our humble way through a wicket gate, a restrained walk, and a -basement doorway. "My dreams about my cottage go on," he wrote to -Joanna Baillie, as we all dream of building cottages into castles. "My -present intention is to have only two spare bedrooms," but "I cannot -relinquish my Border principles of accommodating all the cousins and -duniwastles, who will rather sleep on chairs, and on the floor, and in -the hay-loft, than be absent when folks are gathered together." - -So we content ourselves with being duniwastles, whatever that may be, -and are confident that Sir Walter if he were alive would give us the -freedom of the castle. - -In any event, if we feel somewhat robbed of any familiar intercourse, we -can remember that Ruskin called this "perhaps the most incongruous pile -that gentlemanly modernism ever designed." This may content the -over-sensitive who are prevented ever hearing the ripple of the Tweed -through the windows. - -Scott was a zealous relic hunter, and if you like relics, if you can -better conjure up persons through a sort of transubstantiation of -personality that comes by looking on what the great have possessed, -there can be few private collections more compelling than this of -Abbotsford. - -[Illustration: THE STUDY, ABBOTSFORD.] - -In the library are such significant hints for reconstruction as the -blotting book wherewith Napoleon cleared his record, the crucifix on -which Queen Mary prayed, the quaigh of her great great and last -grandson, the tumbler from which Bobbie Burns drank--one of them--the -purse into which Rob Roy thrust his plunder, the pocket book of Flora -MacDonald, which held nothing I fear from the generosity of the Bonnie -Prince. - -In the armoury are Scott's own gun, Rob Roy's gun, dirk and skene dhu, -the sword of Montrose, given to that last of the great Cavaliers by his -last king, Charles I, the pistol of Claverhouse, the pistol of Napoleon, -a hunting flask of James III; and here are the keys of Loch Leven -castle, dropped in the lake by Mary Queen's boatman; and the keys of the -Edinburgh Tolbooth turned on so many brave men, yes, and fair women, in -the old dividing days, of Jacobite and Covenanter. - -The library of Scott, twenty thousand volumes, still lines the shelves, -and one takes particular interest in this place, and its little stairway -whereby ascent is made to the balcony, also book-lined, and escape -through a little doorway. When Scott first came to the cottage of -Abbotsford he wrote, furiously, in a little window embrasure with only a -curtain between him and the domestic world. Here he had not only a -library, but a study, where still stands the desk at which the -Waverleys were written, and the well-worn desk chair. - -After he had returned from Italy, whither he went in search of health -and did not find it, he felt, one day, a return of the old desire to -write, the ruling passion. He was wheeled to the desk, he took the -pen,--nothing came. He sank back and burst into tears. As Lockhart -reports it--"It was like Napoleon resigning his empire. The scepter had -departed from Judah; Scott was to write no more." - -Scott has always seemed like a contemporary. Not because of his novels; -I fear the Waverleys begin to read a little stilted to the young -generation, and there are none left to lament with Lowell that he had -read all of Scott and now he could never read him all over again for the -first time. It is rather because Scott the man is so immortal that he -seems like a man still living; or at least like one who died but -yesterday. Into the dining-room where we cannot go--and perhaps now that -we think it over it is as well--he was carried in order that out of it -he might look his last on "twilight and Tweed and Eildon hill." And -there he died, even so long ago as September, 1832. - -"It was a beautiful day," that day we seem almost to remember as we -stand here in the vivid after glow, "so warm that every window was wide -open, and so peacefully still that the sound of all others most -delicious to his ear, the gentle ripple of the Tweed, was distinctly -audible." - - -_Dryburgh_ - -Five days after they carried him to rest in the Abbey--rival certainly -in this instance of The Abbey of England, where is stored so much -precious personal dust. The time had become thrawn; dark skies hung over -the Cheviots and the Eildon, and over the haughs of Ettrick and Yarrow; -the silver Tweed ran leaden, and moaned in its going; there was a -keening in the wind. - -The road from Abbotsford past Melrose to Dryburgh is--perhaps--the -loveliest walk in the United Kingdom; unless it be the road from -Coventry past Kenilworth to Stratford. It was by this very way that -there passed the funeral train of Scott, the chief carriage drawn by -Scott's own horses. Thousands and thousands of pilgrims have followed -that funeral train; one goes to Holy Trinity in Stratford, to the -Invalides in Paris, but one walks to Dryburgh through the beautiful -Tweedside which is all a shrine to Sir Walter. - -The road runs away from the river to the little village of Darnick, with -its ivy-shrouded tower, across the meadows to the bridge across the -river, with the ringing of bells in the ear. For it was ordered on that -September day of 1832, by the Provost, "that the church bell shall toll -from the time the funeral procession reaches Melrose Bridge till it -passes the village of Newstead." - -I do not suppose the people of this countryside, who look at modern -pilgrims so sympathetically, so understandingly, have ever had time to -forget; the stream of pilgrims has been so uninterrupted for nearly a -century. Through the market-place of Melrose it passed, the sloping -stony square, where people of the village pass and repass on their -little village errands. And it did not stop at the Abbey. - -The day was thickening into dusk then; it is ripening into sunset glory -to-day. And the Abbey looks very lovely, and very lonely. And one -wonders if Michael Scot did not call to Walter Scott to come and join -the quiet there, and if the dust that once was the heart of Bruce did -not stir a little as the recreator of Scotland was carried by. - -To the village of Newstead you move on; with the sound of immemorial -bells falling on the ear, and pass through the little winding -street--and wonder if the early Roman name of Trimontium, triple -mountains, triple Eildon, was its first call name out of far antiquity -as Scott believed. - -Then the road ascends between hedgerows, and begins to follow the Tweed -closely--and perhaps you meet pilgrims on Leaderfoot bridge who have -come the wrong way. There is a steep climb to the heights of Bemersyde, -where on the crest all Melrose Glen lies beautifully storied before you. -And here you pause--as did those horses of Scott's, believing their -master would fain take one last look at his favourite view. - -There is no lovelier landscape in the world, or in Scotland. The blue -line of the Cheviots bars back the world, the Dunion, the Ruberslaw, the -Eildon rise, and in the great bend of the river with richly wooded braes -about is the site of Old Melrose. Small wonder he paused to take -farewell of all the country he had loved so well. - -The road leads on past Bemersyde village with woodlands on either side, -and to the east, near a little loch, stands Sandyknowe Tower. - -Near the tower lies the remnant of the village of Smailholm, where Scott -was sent out of Edinburgh when only three years old. It is in truth his -birthplace, for without the clear air of the Border he would have -followed the other Scott children; and without the romance of the Border -he might have been merely a barrister. - -Sandyknowe is brave in spite of its ruin, for it is built of the very -stone of the eternal hills, and has become part of the hills. From its -balcony, sixty feet high, a beautiful Scottish panorama may be glimpsed, -and here Scott brought Turner to make his sketch of the Border. And -here, because a kinsman agreed to save Sandyknowe Tower from the -mortality that comes even to stone if Scott would write a ballad and -make it immortal, is laid the scene of "Eve of St. John's"--with these -last haunting intangible lines-- - - "There is a nun in Dryburgh bower - Ne'er looks upon the sun; - There is a monk in Melrose tower - He speaketh a word to none." - -Then, back to the Tweed, where the river sweeps out in a great circle, -and leaves a peninsula for Dryburgh. The gray walls of the ruin lift -above the thick green of the trees; yew and oak and sycamore close in -the fane. Druid and Culdee and Roman have built shrines in this -lovely spot, but to-day pilgrimage is made chiefly because in the quiet -sheltered ruined St. Mary's aisle sleeps Sir Walter. It would make -one-half in love with death to think of being buried in so sweet a -place. - -[Illustration: ST. MARY'S AISLE AND TOMB OF SIR WALTER SCOTT, DRYBURGH -ABBEY]. - -Dryburgh is also one of St. David's foundations, in the "sacred grove of -oaks," the Darach Bruach of the worship that is older than Augustus or -Columba. These were white monks that David brought up from Alnwick where -his queen had been a Northumbrian princess, and their white cloaks must -have seemed, among these old old oaks, but the white robes of the Druids -come back again. - -It is a well-kept place, vines covering over the crumbling gray stone, -kept by the Lords of Buchan. And, perhaps too orderly, too fanciful, too -"improved"; one likes better the acknowledged ruin of Melrose, and one -would prefer that Sir Walter were there with his kin, instead of here -with his kindred. But this is a sweet place, a historic place, begun by -Hugh de Moreville, who was a slayer of Thomas à Becket, and was -Constable of Scotland. His tomb is marked by a double circle on the -floor of the Chapter House, and there is nothing of the Chapter House; -it is open to beating rain and scorching sun--fit retribution for his -most foul deed. - -It is not this remembrance you carry away, but that of St. Mary's aisle, -in - - "Dryburgh where with chiming Tweed - The lintwhites sing in chorus." - - - - -CHAPTER III - -BORDER TOWNS - - -_Kelso_ - -It is a very great little country which lies all about Melrose, with -never a bend of the river or a turn of the highway or a shoulder of the -hill, nay, scarce the shadow of any hazel bush or the piping of any wee -bird but has its history, but serves to recall what once was; and -because the countryside is so teeming seems to make yesterday one with -to-day. The distances are very short, even between the places the -well-read traveler knows; with many places that are new along the way, -each haunted with its tradition, soon to haunt the traveler, while the -people he meets would seem to have been here since the days of the -Winged Hats. - -Perhaps in order to get into the center of the ecclesiastical -country--for after this being a Borderland, and a Scott-land, it is -decidedly Abbots-land, even before Abbotsford came into being with its -new choice of old title--the traveler will take train to Kelso, or walk -there, a scant dozen miles from Melrose. - -The journey is down the Tweed, which opens ever wider between the gentle -hills that are more and more rounding as the flow goes on to the sea. -There is not such intense loneliness; here is the humanest part of the -Scottish landscape, and while even on this highway the cottages are not -frequent, and one eyes the journeymen with as close inspection as one is -eyed, still it is a friendly land. The southern burr--we deliberately -made excuse of drinking water or asking direction in order to hear -it--is softer than in the North; yet, you would not mistake it for -Northumberland. We wondered if this was the accent Scott spoke with; but -to him must have belonged all the dialect-voices. - -It was at Roxburgh Castle that King David lived when he determined to -build these abbeys of the Middle Marches, of which the chief four are -Melrose, Dryburgh, Jedburgh and Kelso, with Holyrood as their royal -keystone. - -Roxburgh was a stronghold of the Border, and therefore met the fate of -those strongholds, when one party was stronger than the other; usually -the destruction was by the English because they were farther away and -could hold the country only through making it desolate. - -Who would not desire loveliness and desire to fix it in stone, if he -lived in such a lovely spot as this where the Tweed and Teviot meet? -David had been in England. He was brother to the English queen Maude, -wife of Henry I, and had come in contact with the Norman culture. Or, as -William of Malmesbury put it, with that serene assurance of the -Englishman over the Scot, he "had been freed from the rust of Scottish -barbarity, and polished from a boy from his intercourse and familiarity -with us." Ah, welladay! if residence at the English court and Norman -culture resulted in these lovely abbeys, let us be lenient with William -of Malmesbury. Incidentally David added to the Scotland of that time -certain English counties, Northumberland and Cumberland and -Westmoreland--as well as English culture! - -David was son to Saxon Margaret, St. Margaret, and from her perhaps the -"sair sanct" inherited some of his gentleness. But also he had married -Matilda of Northumberland, wealthy and a widow, and he preferred to -remain on the highway to London rather than at Dunfermline. So he was -much at Roxburgh. - -But the castle did not remain in Scottish or English hands. It was while -curiously interested in a great Flemish gun that James II was killed by -the explosion--and the siege of Roxburgh went on more hotly, and the -castle was razed to its present low estate. - -To-day the silly sheep are cropping grass about the scant stones that -once sheltered kings and defied them; and ash trees are the sole -occupants of the once royal dwelling. To the American there is something -of passing interest in the present seat of the Duke of Roxburgh, Floors -castle across the Teviot. For the house, like many another Scottish -house, still carries direct descent. And an heiress from America, like -the heiress from Northumberland, unites her fortune with this modern -splendour--and admits Americans and others on Wednesdays! - -The town of Kelso is charming, like many Tweed towns. It lies among the -wooded hills; there is a greater note of luxury here. Scott called it -"the most beautiful if not the most romantic village in Scotland." Seen -from the bridge which arches the flood, that placid flood of Tweed, and -a five-arched bridge ambitiously and successfully like the Waterloo -bridge of London, one wonders if after all perhaps Wordsworth wrote his -Bridge sonnet here--"Earth hath not anything to show more fair." Surely -this bridge, these spires and the great tower of the Abbey, "wear the -beauty of the morning," the morning of the world. The hills, luxuriously -wooded, rise gently behind, the persistent Eildons hang over, green -meadows are about, the silver river runs--and the skies are Scottish -skies, whether blue or gray. - -The Abbey, of course, is the crown of the place, bolder in design and -standing more boldly in spite of the havoc wrought by men and time, and -Hertford and Henry VIII; calmer than Melrose, less ornamental, with its -north portal very exquisite in proportion. - -The Abbot of Kelso was in the palmy early days chief ecclesiastic of -Scotland, a spiritual lord, receiving his miter from the Pope, and -armoured with the right to excommunicate. - -There have been other kings here than David and the Abbot. The latter -days of the Stewarts are especially connected with Kelso, so near the -Border. Baby James was hurried hither and crowned in the cathedral as -the III after Roxburgh. Mary Queen lodged here for two nights before she -rode on to Berwick. Here in the ancient market-place, looking like the -square of a continental town, the Old Chevalier was proclaimed King -James VIII on an October Monday in 1715, and the day preceding the -English chaplain had preached to the troops from the text--"The right -of the first born is his." Quite differently minded from that Whig -minister farther north, who later prayed "as for this young man who has -come among us seeking an earthly crown, may it please Thee to bestow -upon him a heavenly one." - -When this Rising of the Forty Five came, and he who should have been -Charles III (according to those of us who are Scottish, and royalist, -and have been exiled because of our allegiance) attempted to secure the -throne for his father, he established his headquarters at Sunilaw just -outside Kelso; the house is in ruins, but a white rose that he planted -still bears flowers. To the citizens of Kelso who drank to him, the -Prince, keeping his head, and having something of his royal great -uncle's gift of direct speech, replied, "I believe you, gentlemen, I -believe you. I have drinking friends, but few fighting ones in Kelso." - -Scott knew Kelso from having lived here, from going to school here, and -it was in out of the Kelso library--where they will show you the very -copy--that he first read Percy's Reliques. - -"I remember well the spot ... it was beneath a huge platanus, in the -ruins of what had been intended for an old fashioned arbour in the -garden.... The summer day had sped onward so fast that notwithstanding -the sharp appetite of thirteen, I forgot the dinner hour. The first time -I could scrape together a few shillings I bought unto myself a copy of -the beloved volumes; nor do I believe I ever read a book half so -frequently or with half the enthusiasm." - -Was it not a nearer contemporary to Percy, and a knight of romance, Sir -Philip Sidney, who said, "I never read the old song of Percie and -Douglas that I found not my heart moved more than with a trumpet"? - -For myself I have resolutely refused to identify the word, Platanus, -lest it should not be identical with the spot where I first read my -Percy. - -Scott also knew Kelso as the place of his first law practice, and of his -honeymoon. Here flowered into maturity that long lavish life, so -enriched and so enriching of the Border. - -Horatio Bonar was minister here for thirty years--I wondered if he wrote -here, "I was a wandering sheep." - -While James Thomson, who wrote "The Seasons," but also "Rule, -Britannia"--if he was a Scotsman; perhaps this was an Act of Union-- - - "Rule, Britannia, rule the waves; - Britons never will be slaves!" - -was born at a little village nearby, back in the low hills of Tweed, in -1700, seven years before the Union. - - -_Jedburgh_ - -From Kelso I took train to the Border town which even the Baedeker -admits has had "a stormy past," and where the past still lingers; nay, -not lingers, but is; there is no present in Jedburgh. It is but ten -miles to the Border; more I think that at any other point in all the -blue line of the Cheviot, is one conscious of the Border; consciousness -of antiquity and of geography hangs over Jedburgh. - -It lies, a hill town, on the banks of the Jed; "sylvan Jed" said -Thomson, "crystal Jed" said Burns; a smaller stream than the Tweed, more -tortuous, swifter, rushing through wilder scenery, tumultuous, vocative, -before Border times began--if ever there were such a time before--and -disputatious still to remind us that this is still a division in the -kingdom. - -One of the most charming walks in all Scotland--and I do not know of any -country where foot-traveler's interest is so continuous (I wrote this -before I had read the disastrous walking trip of the Pennell's)--is up -this valley of the Jed a half dozen miles, where remnants of old forest, -or its descendants, still stand, where the bracken is thick enough to -conceal an army crouching in ambush, where the hills move swiftly up -from the river, and break sharply into precipices, with crumbling peel -towers, watch towers, to guard the heights, and where outcropping red -scars against the hill mark sometimes the entrance to caves that must -have often been a refuge when Border warfare tramped down the valley. - -In Jedburgh we lodged not at the inn; although the name of Spread Eagle -much attracted us; but because every one who had come before us had -sought lodging, we, too, would "lodge," if it be but for a night. - -Mary Queen had stayed at an old house, still standing in Queenstreet, -Prince Charles at a house in Castlegate, Burns in the Canongate, the -Wordsworths, William and Dorothy, in Abbey Close, because there was no -room in the inn. I do not know if it were the Spread Eagle then, but the -assizes were being held, Jethart justice was being administered, or, -juster justice, since these were more parlous times, and parley went -before sentence. Scott as a sheriff and the other officials of the -country were filling the hostelry. But Sir Walter, then the Sheriff of -Selkirk, sheriff being a position of more "legality" than with us, and -no doubt remembering his first law case which he had pled at Jedburgh -years before, came over to Abbey Close after dinner, and according to -Dorothy Wordsworth "sate with us an hour or two, and repeated a part of -the 'Lay of the Last Minstrel.'" - -Think of not knowing whether it was an hour or two hours, with Scott -repeating the "Lay," and in Jedburgh. - -We lodged in a little narrow lane, near the Queen in the Backgate, with -a small quaint garden plot behind; there would be pears in season, and -many of them, ripening against these stone walls. The pears of the -Border are famous. Our landlady was removed from Yetholm only a -generation. Yetholm is the gipsy capital of this countryside. And we -wondered whether Meg Faa, for so she ambitiously called herself, by the -royal name of Scottish Romany, was descended from Meg Merrilies. Mrs. -Faa had dark flashing eyes in a thin dark face, and they flashed like a -two-edged dagger. She was a small woman, scarce taller than a Jethart -ax as we had seen them in the museum at Kelso. I should never have dared -to ask her about anything, not even the time of day, and, in truth, like -many of the Scotch women, she had a gift of impressive silence. All the -night I had a self-conscious feeling that something was going to happen -in this town of Jed, and in the morning when I met Mrs. Faa again and -her eyes rather than her voice challenged me as to how I had slept, I -should not have dared admit that I slept with one eye open lest I become -one more of the permanent ghosts of Jed. - -[Illustration: JEDBURGH ABBEY.] - -The Abbey is, in its way, its individual way, most interesting of the -chief four of "St. David's piles." It is beautifully lodged, beside the -Jed, near the stream, and the stream more a part of its landscape; -smooth-shaven English lawns lie all about, a veritable ecclesiastical -close. It is simpler than Melrose, if the detail is not so marvelous, -and there is substantially more of it. The Norman tower stands square; -if witches still dance on it they choose their place for security. The -long walls of the nave suggest almost a restoration--almost. - -When the Abbey flourished, and when Alexander III was king, he was -wedded here (1285) to Joleta, daughter of the French Count de Dreux. -Always French and Scotch have felt a kinship, and often expressed it in -royal marriage. The gray abbey walls, then a century and a half old, -must have looked curiously down on this gay wedding throng which so -possessed the place, so dispossessed the monks, Austin friars come from -the abbey of St. Quentin at Beauvais. - -Suddenly, in the midst of the dance, the King reached out his hand to -the maiden queen--and Death, the specter, met him with skeleton fingers. -It may have been a pageant trick, it may have been a too thoughtful -monk; but the thirteenth century was rich with superstition. Six months -later Alexander fell from his horse on a stormy night on the Fife -coast--and the prophetic omen was remembered, or constructed. - -The Abbey was newly in ruin when Mary Queen rode down this way, only -twenty-one years after Hertford's hurtful raid. Court was to be held -here, the assizes of October, 1566, at this Border town. For the Border -had been over-lively and was disputing the authority of the Scottish -queen as though it had no loyalty. Bothwell had been sent down as Warden -of the Marches to quell the marauding free-booters. He had met with -Little Jock Elliott, a Jethart callant, a Border bandit, to whom we can -forgive much, because of the old ballad. - - "My castle is aye my ain, - An' herried it never shall be; - For I maun fa' ere it's taen, - An' wha daur meddle wi' me? - Wi' my kuit in the rib o' my naig, - My sword hangin' doun by my knee, - For man I am never afraid, - An' wha daur meddle wi' me? - Wha daur meddle wi' me, - Wha daur meddle wi' me? - Oh, my name is little Jock Elliott, - An' wha daur meddle wi' me? - - "I munt my gude naig wi' a will - When the fray's in the wind, an' he - Cocks his lugs as he tugs for the hill - That enters the south countrie, - Where pricking and spurring are rife, - And the bluid boils up like the sea, - But the Southrons gang doon i' the strife, - An' wha daur meddle wi' me?" - -And perhaps we can forgive the reiver, since he dealt a blow to Bothwell -that those of us who love Mary have longed to strike through the long -centuries. Bothwell took Elliott in custody, Elliott not suspecting that -a Scot could prove treacherous like a Southron, and was carrying him to -the Hermitage. Jock asked pleasantly what would be his fate at the -assize. - -"Gif ane assyises wald mak him clene, he was hertlie contentit, but he -behuvit to pas to the Quenis grace." - -This was little promise to little Jock Elliott. He fled. Bothwell -chased. Bothwell fired, wounded Jock, overtook him, and Jock managed to -give Bothwell three vicious thrusts of his skene dhu--"Wha daur meddle -wi' me!"--before Bothwell's whinger drove death into little Jock -Elliott. - -Bothwell, wounded, perhaps to death, so word went up to Edinburgh, was -carried to the Hermitage. - -Buchanan, the scandalous chronicler of the time--there were such in -Scotland, then, and always for Mary--set down that "when news thereof -was brought to Borthwick to the Queen, she flingeth away in haste like a -madwoman by great journeys in post, in the sharp time of winter, first -to Melrose, and then to Jedworth." - -It happened to be the crisp, lovely, truly Scottish time, October, and -Mary opened court at Jedburgh October 9, presiding at the meetings of -the Privy Council, and then rode to the Hermitage October 16. She rode -with an escort which included the Earl of Moray, the Earl of Huntley, -Mr. Secretary Lethington, and more men of less note. For six days the -girl queen (Mary was only twenty-four in this year of the birth of -James, year before the death of Darnley, the marriage with Bothwell, the -imprisonment at Loch Leven) had been mewed to state affairs, and a ride -through the brown October woods, thirty miles there and thirty miles -back again, must have lured the queen who was always keen for adventure, -whether Bothwell was the goal, or just adventure. - -[Illustration: HERMITAGE CASTLE.] - -The mist of the morning turned to thick rain by night, and the return -ride was made in increasing wet and darkness. Once, riding ahead and -alone and rapidly, the Queen strayed from the trail, was bogged in a -mire, known to-day as the Queen's Mire, and rescued with difficulty. - -Next day Mary lay sick at Jedburgh, a sickness of thirty days, nigh unto -death. News was sent to Edinburgh, and bells were rung, and prayers -offered in St. Giles. On the ninth day she lay unconscious, in this -little town of Jedburgh, apparently dead, twenty years before -Fotheringay. "Would God I had died at Jedburgh." - -She did not die. Darnley visited her one day, coming from Glasgow. -Bothwell came as soon as he could be moved, and the two made -convalescence together in this old house of Jedburgh, perhaps the -happiest house of all those where the legend of Mary persists. Even -to-day it has its charm. The windowed turret looks out on the large -fruit garden that stretches down to the Jed, very like that very little -turret of "Queen Mary's Lookout" at Roscoff where the child queen had -landed in France less than twenty years before. - -Five years later, when Mary was in an English prison, a proclamation was -read in her name at the town cross of Jedburgh, the herald was roughly -handled by the Provost who received his orders from England, and -Buccleuch and Ker of Fernihurst revenged themselves by hanging ten loyal -(?) citizens who stood with the Provost. - -Later, a century later, when at the town cross the magistrates were -drinking a health to the new sovereign, a well-known Jacobite came by. -They insisted on his joining in the toast. And he pledged--"confusion to -King William, and the restitution of our sovereign and the heir!" Bravo, -the Borderers! - - -_Selkirk_ - -The sentimental journeymen--with whom I count myself openly--may -hesitate to visit Yarrow. It lies so near the Melrose country, and is so -much a part of that, in song and story, that it would seem like leaving -out the fragrance of the region to omit Yarrow. And yet--. One has read -"Yarrow Unvisited," one of the loveliest of Wordsworth's poems. And one -has read "Yarrow Visited." And the conclusion is too easy that if the -unvisitings and visitings differ as much as the poems it surely were -better not to "turn aside to Yarrow," to accept it as - - "Enough if in our hearts we know - There's such a place as Yarrow.... - For when we're there although 'tis fair, - 'Twill be another Yarrow." - -There is peril at times in making a dream come true, in translating the -dream into reality, in lifting the mists from the horizon of -imagination. Should one hear an English skylark, an Italian nightingale? -should one see Carcassonne, should one visit Yarrow? - -Ah, welladay. I have heard, I have seen. Just at first, because no -dream can ever quite come true, not the dream of man in stone, or of -song in bird-throat, or even of nature in trees and sky and hills, there -is a disappointment. But after the reality these all slip away into the -misty half-remembered things, even Carcassonne, even Yarrow; the dream -enriched by the vision, the vision softened again into dream. - -And so, I will down into Yarrow. - -Coaches run, or did before the war, and will after the war, through the -pleasant dales of Yarrow and Moffat, dales which knew battles long ago -and old unhappy far off things, but very silent now, too silent; almost -one longs for a burst of Border warfare that the quiet may be filled -with fitting clamour. The coaches meet at Tibbie Shiel's on St. Mary's -and it is to Tibbie's that you are bound, as were so many gallant -gentlemen, especially literary gentlemen, before you. - -Selkirk is the starting point. And Selkirk is a very seemly, very -prosperous town, looking not at all like an ecclesiastic city, as it -started to be in the dear dead days of David the saint, looking very -much as a hill city in Italy will look some day when Italy becomes -entirely "redeemed" and modern, and exists for itself instead of for -the tourist. Selkirk is indifferent to tourists, as indeed is every -Scottish town; Scotland and Scotsmen are capable of existing for -themselves. Selkirk hangs against the hillside above the Ettrick, and -its show places are few; the spot where Montrose lodged the night before -the defeat at Philipshaugh, the statue of Scott when he was sheriff, -"shirra," the statue of Mungo Park near where he was given his medical -training, and the home of Andrew Lang. - -There is no trace of the "kirk o' the shielings," founded by the -religious from Iona, from which by way of Scheleschyrche came Selkirk. -Nor is there trace of Davis's pile, ruined or unruined, in this near, -modern, whirring city. It is the sound of the looms one remembers in -Selkirk, making that infinity of yards of Scotch tweed to clothe the -world. Selkirk and Galashiels and Hawick form the Glasgow of the Border. - -Always industrious, in the time of Flodden it was the "souters of -Selkirk" who marched away to the Killing-- - - "Up wi' the Souters of Selkirk - And down wi' the Earl o' Home." - -These same souters--shoemakers--were busy in the time of Prince Charles -Edward and contracted to furnish two thousand pair of shoes to his -army; but one does not inquire too closely into whether they furnished -any quota of the four thousand feet to go therein. - -It was a warm sunny day when I made my pilgrimage up the Yarrow to St. -Mary's. Although Yarrow has always sung in my ears, I think it was -rather to see one sight that I came for the first time to Scotland, to -see - - "The swan on still St. Mary's Lake - Float double, swan and shadow." - -I rather think it was for this I had journeyed across the Atlantic and -up the East coast route. Such a sentimental lure would I follow. But -then, if that seems wasteful and ridiculous excess of sentiment, let us -be canny enough, Scotch enough, to admit that one sees so many other -things, incidentally. - -The "wan waters" of the Yarrow were shimmering, glimmering, in the -morning light as I coached out of Selkirk, and by Carterhaugh. - - "I forbid ye, maidens a', - That wear gowd in your hair, - To come or gae by Carterhaugh; - For young Tamlane is there." - -These round-shouldered hills, once covered with the Wood of Caledon, and -the Forest of Ettrick, and the Forest of Yarrow, are very clear and -clean in their green lawns to-day, scarce an ancient tree or a late -descendant standing; here and there only gnarled and deformed, out of -the centuries, out of perhaps that "derke forest" of James IV. His son, -the Fifth James, thought to subdue the Border and increase his revenue -by placing thousands of sheep in this forest; and these ruining the -trees have decreased the tourists' rightful revenue. It is because of -this absence of trees that one is perhaps more conscious of the shining -ribbon of river; longer, clearer stretches may be seen in the green -plain: - - "And is this--Yarrow? This the stream - Of which my fancy cherished - So faithfully a waking dream? - An image that has perished! - O that some minstrel's harp were near - To utter notes of gladness, - And chase this silence from the air - That fills my heart with sadness!" - -About Philipshaugh, two miles from Selkirk, the trees are in something -of large estate, with oak and birch and fir and rowan, making dark -shadows in the fair morning, as the historically minded traveler would -fain have it. For it was there that Montrose met defeat, his small band -against Leslie's many men. All about there lie legends of his fight and -his flight across the Minchmoor and on to the North. - -And through here Scott loved to wander. Here he let the Minstrel begin -his Last Lay-- - - "He paused where Newark's stately Tower - Looks down from Yarrow's birchen bower." - -And it was hither the Scotch poet came with Wordsworth, as the English -poet describes it-- - - "Once more by Newark's Castle gate - Long left without a warder, - I stood, looked, listened, and with Thee - Great Minstrel of the Border." - -Nearby, and near the highways, is the deserted farm cottage, the -birthplace of Mungo Park, who traveled about the world even as you and -I, and I fancy his thought must often have returned to the Yarrow. - -The driver will point out the Trench of Wallace, a redout a thousand -feet long, on the height to the North; and here will come into the -Border memories of another defender of Scotland who seems rather to -belong to the North and West. - -Soon we reach the Kirk of Yarrow, a very austere "reformed" looking -basilica, dating back to 1640, which was a reformed date, set among -pleasant gardens and thick verdure. Scott and Wordsworth and Hogg -have worshiped here, and from its ceiling the heraldic devices of many -Borderers speak a varied history. - -[Illustration: NEWARK CASTLE.] - -Crossing the bridge we are swiftly, unbelievingly, on the Dowie Dens of -Yarrow. - - "Yestreen I dream'd a dolefu' dream; - I fear there will be sorrow! - I dream'd I pu'd the heather green, - Wi' my true love on Yarrow. - - "But in the glen strive armed men; - They've wrought me dole and sorrow; - They've slain--the comeliest knight they've slain-- - He bleeding lies on Yarrow. - - "She kiss'd his cheek, she kaim'd his hair, - She search'd his wounds all thorough; - She kiss'd them till her lips grew red, - On the dowie houms of Yarrow." - -Then we come into the country of Joseph Hogg. The farm where he was -tenant and failed, for Hogg was a shepherd and a poet, which means a -wanderer and a dreamer. And soon to the Gordon Arms, a plain rambling -cement structure, where Hogg and Scott met by appointment and took their -last walk together. - -Hogg is the spirit of all the Ettrick place. Can you not hear his -skylark--"Bird of the wilderness, blithesome and cumberless"--in that -far blue sky above Altrive, where he died--"Oh, to abide in the desert -with thee!" - -And now the driver tells us we are at the Douglass Glen, up there to the -right lies the shattered keep of the good Lord James Douglass, the -friend of Bruce. Here fell the "Douglass Tragedy," and the bridle path -from Yarrow to Tweed is still to be traced. - - "O they rade on and on they rade, - And a' by the light of the moon, - Until they came to yon wan water, - And there they lighted down." - - -_St. Mary's_ - -And soon we are at St. Mary's Loch--which we have come to see. To one -who comes from a land of lakes, from the Land of the Sky Blue Water, -there must be at first a sudden rush of disappointment. This is merely a -lake, merely a stretch of water. The hills about are all barren, rising -clear and round against the sky. They fold and infold as though they -would shield the lake bereft of trees, as though they would shut out the -world. Here and there, but very infrequent, is a cluster of trees; for -the most part it is water and sky and green heathery hills. The water -is long and narrow, a small lake as our American lakes go, three miles -by one mile; but large as it looms in romance, rich as it bulks in -poetry. - -[Illustration: INTERIOR VIEW, TIBBIE SHIEL'S INN.] - -Tibbie Shiel's is, of course, our goal. One says Tibbie Shiel's, as one -says Ritz-Carlton, or the William the Conqueror at Dives. For this is -the most celebrated inn in all Scotland, and it must be placed with the -celebrated inns of the world. There is no countryside better sung than -this which lies about St. Mary's, and no inn, certainly not anywhere a -country inn, where more famous men have foregathered to be themselves. -Perhaps the place has changed since the most famous, the little famed -days, when Scott stopped here after a day's hunting, deer or Border song -and story, up Meggatdale; and those famous nights of Christopher North -and the Ettrick shepherd, nights deserving to be as famous as the -Arabian or Parisian or London. The world has found it out, and times -have changed, as a local poet complains-- - - "Sin a' the world maun gang - And picnic at St. Mary's." - -The inn, a rambling white house, stands on a strip between two waters, -added to no doubt since Tibbie first opened its doors, but the closed -beds are still there--it was curious enough to see them the very summer -that the Graham Moffatts played "Bunty" and "The Closed Bed"--and the -brasses which Tibbie polished with such housewifely care. - -For Tibbie was a maid in the household of the Ettrick shepherd's mother. -She married, she had children, she came here to live. Then her husband -died, and quite accidentally Tibbie became hostess to travelers, nearly -a hundred years ago. For fifty-four years Tibbie herself ran this inn; -she died in what is so short a time gone, as Scottish history goes, in -1878. - -During that time hosts of travelers, particularly, wandered through the -Border, came to this "wren's nest" as North called it. Hogg, of course, -was most familiar, and here he wished to have a "bit monument to his -memory in some quiet spot forninst Tibbie's dwelling." He sits there, in -free stone, somewhat heavily, a shepherd's staff in his right hand, and -in his left a scroll carrying the last line from the "Queen's -Wake"--"Hath tayen the wandering winds to sing." - -Edward Irving, walking from Kirkcaldy to Annan, was here the first year -after Tibbie opened her doors so shyly. Carlyle, walking from -Ecclefechan to Edinburgh, in his student days, caught his first glimpse -of Yarrow from here--and slept, may it be, in one of these closed beds? -Gladstone was here in the early '40's during a Midlothian campaign. Dr. -John Brown--"Rab"--came later, and even R. L. S. knew the hospitality of -Tibbie Shiel's when Tibbie was still hostess. - -It is a long list and a brave one. In this very dining-room they ate -simply and abundantly, after the day's work; in this "parlour" they -continued their talk. And surely St. Mary's Lake was the same. - -Down on the shore there stands a group of trees, not fir trees, though -these are most native here. And here we loafed the afternoon away--for -fortunately we were the only ones who "picnic at St. Mary's." There were -the gentleman and his wife whom we took for journalistic folk, they were -so worldly and so intelligent and discussed the world and the -possibilities of world-war--that was several years ago--until at the -Kirk of Yarrow the local minister, Dr. Borlund, uncovered this minister, -James Thomson, from Paisley. If all the clergy of Scotland should become -as these, austerity of reform would go and the glow of culture would -come. - -We all knew our history and our poetry of this region, but none so well -as the minister. It was he who recited from Marmion that description -which is still so accurate-- - - "By lone St. Mary's silent Lake; - Thou know'st it well--nor fen nor sedge - Pollute the clear lake's crystal edge; - Abrupt and sheer the mountains sink - At once upon the level brink; - And just a trace of silver strand - Marks where the water meets the land. - Far in the mirror, bright and blue, - Each hill's huge outline you may view; - Shaggy with heath, but lonely, bare, - Nor tree nor bush nor brake is there, - Save where of land, yon silver line - Bears thwart the lake the scatter'd pine. - Yet even this nakedness has power, - And aids the feelings of the hour; - Nor thicket, dell nor copse you spy, - Where living thing conceal'd might lie; - Not point, retiring, hides a dell - Where swain, or woodman lone might dwell; - There's nothing left to fancy's guess, - You see that all is loneliness; - And silence aids--though the steep hills - Send to the lake a thousand rills; - In summer time, so soft they weep. - The sound but lulls the ear asleep; - Your horse's hoof-tread sounds too rude, - So stilly is the solitude." - -[Illustration: ST. MARY'S LAKE.] - -Across the water is the old graveyard of vanished St. Mary's kirk. And -it was the low-voiced minister's wife--a Babbie a little removed--who -knew - - "What boon to lie, as now I lie, - And see in silver at my feet - St. Mary's Lake, as if the sky - Had fallen 'tween those hills so sweet, - And this old churchyard on the hill, - That keeps the green graves of the dead, - So calm and sweet, so lone and wild still, - And but the blue sky overhead." - -We sat in the silences, the still silent afternoon, conscious of the -folk verse that goes-- - - "St. Mary's Loch lies shimmering still, - But St. Mary's kirkbell's lang dune ringing." - -Suddenly, over the far rim of the water, my eye caught something white, -and then another, and another. And I knew well that were I but nearer, -as imagination knew was unnecessary, I might see the swan on still St. -Mary's Lake, and their shadow breaking in the water. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -THE EMPRESS OF THE NORTH - - -I suppose the Scotsman who has been born in Edinburgh may have a -pardonable reluctance in praising the town, may hesitate in appraising -it; Stevenson did; Scott did not. And I suppose if one cannot trace his -ancestry back to Edinburgh, or nearly there, but must choose some of the -other capitals of the world as his ancestral city, one might begrudge -estate to Edinburgh. - -I have none of these hesitations, am hampered by none of these half and -half ways. Being an American, with half a dozen European capitals to -choose from if I must, and having been born in an American capital which -is among the loveliest--I think the loveliest--I dare choose Edinburgh -as my dream city. I dare fling away my other capital claims, and all -modification, ever Scotch moderation, to declare without an "I think" or -"they say," Edinburgh is the most beautiful, the most romantic, the -singular city of the world. - -Those who come out of many generations of migration grow accustomed to -choosing their quarter of the world; they have come from many countries -and through nomadic ancestors for a century, or two, or three. And -perhaps they, themselves, have migrated from one state to another, one -city to another. Every American has had these phases, has suffered the -sea change and the land. Surely then he may adopt his ancestral capital, -as correctly as he adopts his present political capital. - -It shall be Edinburgh. And while Constantinople and Rio and Yokohama may -be splendid for situation, they have always something of foreign about -them, they can never seem to touch our own proper romance, to have been -the setting for our play. Edinburgh is as lovely, and then, the chalice -of romance has been lifted for centuries on the high altar of her -situation. - -Edinburgh is a small city, as modern cities go; but I presume it has -many thousands of population, hundreds of thousands. If it were Glasgow -numbers would be important, fixative. But Edinburgh has had such a -population through the centuries that to cast its total with only that -of the souls now living within her precincts were to leave out of the -picture those shadowy and yet brilliant, ever present generations, who -seem all to jostle each other on her High street, without respect to -generations, if there is very decided respect of simple toward gentle. - -Edinburgh is, curiously, significantly, divided and scarce united, into -Old Town and New Town. And yet, the Old Town with its ancient _lands_ so -marvelously like modern tenements, and its poverty which is of no date -and therefore no responsibility of ours, is neither dead nor deserted, -and is still fully one-half the town. While New Town, looking ever up to -the old, looking across the stretch to Leith, and to the sea whence came -so much threatening in the old days, and with its memories of Hume and -Scott who are ancient, and of Stevenson, who, in spite of his immortal -youth, does begin to belong to another generation than ours--New Town -also, to a new American, is something old. It has all become Edinburgh, -two perfect halves of a whole which is not less perfect for the -imperfect uniting. - -There is no city which can be so "observed." I venture that when you -have stood on Castle Hill--on the High Street with its narrow opening -between the _lands_ framing near and far pictures--on Calton Hill--when -you have been able to "rest and be thankful" at Corstorphine Hill--when -you have climbed the Salisbury crags--when you have mounted to Arthur's -Seat and looked down as did King Arthur before there was an -Edinburgh--you will believe that not any slightest corner but fills the -eye and soul. - -There is, of course, no single object in Edinburgh to compare with -objects of traveler's interest farther south. The castle is not the -Tower, Holyrood is a memory beside Windsor, St. Giles is no Canterbury, -St. Mary's is not St. Paul's, the Royal Scottish art gallery is meager -indeed, notwithstanding certain rare riches in comparison with the -National. But still one may believe of any of these superior objects, as -T. Sandys retorted to Shovel when they had played the game of matching -the splendours of Thrums with those of London and Shovel had named Saint -Paul's, and Tommy's list of native wonders was exhausted, but never -Tommy--"it would like to be in Thrums!" All these lesser glories go to -make up the singular glory which is Edinburgh. - - -_The Castle_ - -And there is the castle. Nowhere in all the world is castle more -strategically set to guard the city and to guard the memories of the -city and the beauty. - -For the castle is Edinburgh. It stood there, stalwart in the plain, -thousands and thousands of years ago, this castle hill which invited a -castle as soon as man began to fortify himself. It has stood here a -thousand years as the bulwark of man against man. Certain it will stand -there a thousand years to come. And after--after man has destroyed and -been destroyed, or when he determines that like night and the sea there -shall be no more destruction. Castle Hill is immortal. - -[Illustration: _Edinburgh Castle_] - -Always it has been the resort of kings and princes. First it was the -keep of princesses, far back in Pictish days before Christian time, this -"Castell of the Maydens." From 987 B. C. down to 1566, when Mary was -lodged here for safe keeping in order that James might be born safe and -royal, the castle has had royalties in its keeping. It has kept them -rather badly in truth. While many kings have been born here, few -kings have died in its security; almost all Scottish kings have died -tragically, almost all Scottish kings have died young, and left their -kingdom to some small prince whose regents held him in this castle for -personal security, while they governed the realm, always to its -disaster. - -There is not one of the Stewart kings, one of the Jameses, from First to -Sixth, who did not come into the heritage of the kingdom as a baby, a -youth; even the Fourth, who rebelled against his father and won the -kingdom--and wore a chain around his body secretly for penance. And -these baby kings and stripling princes have been lodged in the castle -for safe keeping, prologues to the swelling act of the imperial theme. - -History which attempts to be exact begins the castle in the seventh -century, when Edwin of Deira fortified the place and called it Edwin's -burgh. It was held by Malcolm Canmore, of whom and of his Saxon queen -Margaret, Dunfermline tells a fuller story; held against rebels and -against English, until Malcolm fell at Alnwick, and Margaret, dead at -hearing the news, was carried secretly out of the castle by her devoted -and kingly sons. - -After Edward I took the castle, for half a century it was variously -held by the English as a Border fortress. Once Bruce retook it, a -stealthy night assault, up the cliffs of the west, and The Bruce razed -it. Rebuilt by the Third Edward, it was taken from this king by a clever -ruse planned by the Douglass, Black Knight of Liddesdale. A shipload of -wine and biscuits came into harbour, and the unsuspecting castellan, -glad to get such precious food in the far north, purchased it all and -granted delivery at dawn next morning. The first cart load upset under -the portcullis, the gate could not be closed, the cry "A Douglass," was -raised, and the castle entered into Scottish keeping, never to be -"English" again until the Act of Union. - -Henry IV and Richard II attempted it, but failed. Richard III entered it -as friend. For three years it was held for Mary by Kirkcaldy, while the -city was disloyal. Charles I held it longer than he held England, and -Cromwell claimed it in person as part of the Protectorate. Prince -Charles, the Third, could not take it, contented himself with the less -castellated, more palatial joys, of Holyrood; a preference he shared -with his greatest grandmother. - -To-day perhaps its defense might be battered down, as some one has -suggested, "from the Firth by a Japanese cruiser." But it looks like a -Gibraltar, and it keeps impregnably the treasures of the past; as -necessary a defense, I take it, as of any material treasure of the -present. - -If you are a king you must wait to enter; summons must be made to the -Warder, and it must be certain you are the king; even Edward VII, most -Stewart of recent kings had to prove himself not Edward I, not English, -but "Union." If you are a commoner you know no such difficulties. - -First you linger on the broad Esplanade where a regiment in kilts is -drilling, perhaps the Black Watch, the Scots Greys. No doubt of late it -has been tramped by regiments of the "First Hundred Thousand" and later, -in training for the wars. - -As an American you linger here in longer memory. For when Charles was -king--the phrase sounds recent to one who is eternally Jacobite--this -level space was a part of Nova Scotia, and the Scotsmen who were made -nobles with estates in New Scotland were enfeoffed on this very ground. -So close were the relations between old and new, so indifferent were the -men of adventuring times toward space. - -Or, you linger here to recall when Cromwell was burned in effigy, along -with "his friend the Devil." - -You pass through the gate, where no wine casks block the descent of the -portcullis, and the castle is entered. There are three or four points of -particular interest. - -Queen Margaret's chapel, the oldest and smallest religious house in -Scotland, a tiny place indeed, where Margaret was praying when word was -brought of the death of Malcolm in battle, and she, loyal and royal -soul, died the very night while the enemies from the Highlands, like an -army of Macbeth's, surrounded the castle. The place is quite authentic, -Saxon in character with Norman touches. I know no place where a thousand -years can be so swept away, and Saxon Margaret herself seems to kneel in -the perpetual dim twilight before the chancel. - -There is Mons Meg, a monstrous gun indeed, pointing its mouth toward the -Forth, as though it were the guardian of Scotland. A very pretentious -gun, which was forged for James II, traveled to the sieges of Dumbarton -and of Norham, lifted voice in salute to Mary in France on her marriage -to the Dauphin, was captured by Cromwell and listed as "the great iron -murderer, Muckle Meg," and "split its throat" in saluting the Duke of -York in 1682, a most Jacobite act of loyalty. After the Rising of the -Forty Five this gun was taken to London, as though to take it from -Scotland were to take the defense from Jacobitism. But Sir Walter Scott, -restoring Scotland, and being in much favour with George IV, secured the -return of Mons Meg. It was as though a prince of the realm has returned. -Now, the great gun, large enough to shoot men for ammunition, looks, -silently but sinisterly, out over the North Sea. - -[Illustration: MONS MEG.] - -History comes crowding its events in memory when one enters Old -Parliament Hall. It is fitly ancestral, a noble hall with an open -timbered roof of great dignity, with a collection of armour and -equipment that particularly re-equips the past. And in this hall, under -this roof, what splendour, what crime! Most criminal, the "black dinner" -given to the Black Douglasses to their death. Unless one should resent -the dinner given by Leslie to Cromwell, when there was no black bull's -head served. - -By a secret stair, which commoners and Jacobites may use to-day, -communication was had with the Royal Lodgings, and often must Queen Mary -have gone up and down those stairs, carrying the tumult of her heart, -the perplexity of her kingdom; for Mary was both woman and sovereign. - -The Royal Lodgings contain Queen Mary's Rooms, chiefly; the other rooms -are negligible. It is a tiny bedchamber, too small to house the eager -soul of Mary, but very well spaced for the niggard soul of James. One -merely accepts historically the presence of Mary here; there is too much -intertwining of "H" and "M." No Jacobite but divorces Darnley from Mary, -even though he would not effect divorce with gunpowder. King James I, -when he returned fourteen years after to the place where he was VI, made -a pilgrimage to his own birth-room on June 19, 1617. I suppose he found -the narrow space like unto the Majesty that doth hedge a king. - -Mary must have beat her heart against these walls as an eagle beats -wings against his cage. She never loved the place. Who could love it who -must live in it? It was royally hung; she made it fit for living, with -carpets from Turkey, chairs and tables from France, gold hangings that -were truly gold for the bed, and many tapestries with which to shut out -the cold--eight pictures of the Judgment of Paris; four pictures of the -Triumph of Virtue! - -Here she kept her library, one hundred and fifty-three precious -volumes--where are they now? "The Queen readeth daily after her dinner," -wrote Randolph, English envoy, to his queen, "instructed by a learned -man, Mr. George Buchanan, somewhat of Lyvie." - -And I wondered if here she wrote that Prayer which but the other day I -came upon in the bookshop of James Thin, copied into a book of a hundred -years back, in a handwriting that has something of Queen Mary's quality -in it-- - - "O Domine Deus! - Speravi in te; - O care mi Iesu! - Nunc libera me: - In dura catena, - In misera poena - Desidero te; - Languendo, gemendo, - Et genuflectendo - Adoro, imploro, - Ut liberes me!" - -Her windows looked down across the city toward Holyrood. Almost she must -have heard John Knox thunder in the pulpit of St. Giles, and thunder -against her. And, directly beneath far down she saw the Grassmarket. -Sometimes it flashed with gay tournament folk; for before and during -Mary's time all the world came to measure lances in Edinburgh. -Sometimes it swarmed with folk come to watch an execution; in the next -century it was filled in the "Killing Time," with Covenanter mob -applauding the execution of Royalists, with Royalist mob applauding the -execution of Covenanters; Mary's time was not the one "to glorify God in -the Grassmarket." - -At the top of the market, near where the West Bow leads up to the -castle, was the house of Claverhouse, who watched the killings. At the -bottom of the market was the West Port through which Bonnie Dundee rode -away. - - "To the Lords of Convention, 'twas Claverhouse spoke, - Ere the king's crown go down there are crowns to be broke, - So each cavalier who loves honour and me, - Let him follow the bonnet of Bonnie Dundee. - Come fill up my cup, come fill up my can, - Come saddle my horses and call up my men, - Fling all your gates open, and let me gae free, - For 'tis up with the bonnets of Bonnie Dundee." - -And to-day, but especially on Saturday nights, if you care to take your -life, or your peace in hand, you can join a strange and rather awful -multitude as it swarms through the Grassmarket, more and more drunken as -midnight comes on, and not less or more drunken than the mob which -hanged Captain Porteous. - -It is a decided relief to look down and find the White Hart Inn, still -an inn, where Dorothy and William Wordsworth lodged, on Thursday night, -September 15, 1803--"It was not noisy, and tolerably cheap. Drank tea, -and walked up to the Castle." - -The Cowgate was a fashionable suburb in Mary's time. A canon of St. -Andrews wrote in 1530, "nothing is humble or lowly, everything -magnificent." On a certain golden gray afternoon I had climbed to -Arthur's Seat to see the city through the veil of mist-- - - "I saw rain falling and the rainbow drawn - On Lammermuir. Harkening I heard again - In my precipitous city beaten bells - Winnow the keen sea wind." - -It was late, gathering dusk and rain, when I reached the level and -thinking to make a short cut--this was once the short cut to St. -Cuthbert's from Holyrood--I ventured into the Cowgate, and wondered at -my own temerity. Stevenson reports, "One night I went along the Cowgate -after every one was a-bed but the policeman." Well, if Scott liked to -"put a cocked hat on a story," Stevenson liked to put it on his own -adventures. The Cowgate, in dusk rain, is adventure enough. - -Across the height lies Greyfriar's. The church is negligible, the view -from there superb, the place historic. One year after Jenny Geddes -threw her stool in St. Giles and started the Reformation--doesn't it -sound like Mrs. O'Leary's cow?--the Covenant was signed (Feb. 28, 1638) -on top of a tomb still shown, hundreds pressing to the signing, some -signing with their blood. The Reformation was on, not to be stopped -until all Scotland was harried and remade. - -I like best to think that in this churchyard, on a rainy Sunday, Scott -met a charming girl, fell in love with her, took her home under his -umbrella, and, did not marry her--his own romance! - -Because no king shall ever wear the crown again, nor wave the scepter, -nor wield the sword of state, the Regalia, housed in the Crown Room, and -guarded from commoner and king by massive iron grating, is more -interesting than any other appanage of royalty in the world. The crown -which was worn by Bruce, and which sat rather uneasily on the very -unsteady head of Charles II at what time he was crowned at Scone and was -scolded, is of pure gold and much bejeweled. The scepter, made in Paris -for James V, carries a beryl, come from Egypt three thousand years ago, -or, from a Druid priest in the mist of time. The sword was a gift -from Pope Julius to James IV; in those days the Scottish sovereign was -surely the "Most Catholic Majesty." - -[Illustration: GREYFRIARS' CHURCHYARD.] - -England has no ancient regalia; hers were thrown into the melting pot by -Cromwell. The Protector--and Destructor--would fain have grasped these -"Honours," but they were spirited away, and later concealed in the -castle. Here they remained a hundred and ten years, sealed in a great -oak chest. The rumour increased that they had gone to England. And -finally Sir Walter Scott secured an order from George IV to open the -chest (Feb. 4, 1818). - -It was a tremendous moment to Scott. Could he restore the Honours as -well as the country? There they lay, crown of The Bruce, scepter of -James V, sword of Pope and King. The castle guns thundered--how Mons Meg -must have regretted her lost voice! - -And still we can hear the voice of Scott, when a commissioner playfully -lifted the crown as if to place it on the head of a young lady -near--"No, by God, no!" Never again shall this crown rest on any head. -That is assured in a codicil to the Act of Union. And--it may be that -other crowns shall in like manner gain a significance when they no -longer rest on uneasy heads. - -The view from the King's bastion is royal. Where is there its superior? -And only its rival from Calton Hill, from Arthur's Seat. The Gardens lie -below, the New Town spreads out, the city runs down to Leith, the Firth -shines and carries on its bosom the Inchkeith and the May; the hills of -Fife rampart the North; the Highlands with Ben Lomond for sentinel form -the purple West; and south are the Braid hills and the heathery -Pentlands--the guide has pointed through a gap in the castle wall to the -hills and to the cottage at Swanston. - - "City of mists and rain and blown gray spaces, - Dashed with the wild wet colour and gleam of tears, - Dreaming in Holyrood halls of the passionate faces - Lifted to one Queen's face that has conquered the years. - Are not the halls of thy memory haunted places? - Cometh there not as a moon (where blood-rust sears - Floors a-flutter of old with silks and laces) - Gilding a ghostly Queen thro' the mist of tears? - - "Proudly here, with a loftier pinnacled splendour - Throned in his northern Athens, what spells remain - Still on the marble lips of the Wizard, and render - Silent the gazer on glory without a stain! - Here and here, do we whisper with hearts more tender, - Tusitala wandered thro' mist and rain; - Rainbow-eyes and frail and gallant and slender, - Dreaming of pirate isles in a jeweled main. - - "Up the Canongate climbeth, cleft a-sunder - Raggedly here, with a glimpse of the distant sea, - Flashed through a crumbling alley, a glimpse of wonder, - Nay, for the City is throned in Eternity! - Hark! from the soaring castle a cannon's thunder - Closeth an hour for the world and an æon for me, - Gazing at last from the martial heights whereunder - Deathless memories roll to an ageless sea." - - -_High Street_ - -If the Baedeker with a cautious reservation, declares Princes Street -"Perhaps" the handsomest in Europe, there is no reservation in the -guide-book report of Taylor, the "Water Poet," who wrote of the High -Street in the early Sixteen Hundreds, "the fairest and goodliest streete -that ever my eyes beheld." Surely it was then the most impressive street -in the world. Who can escape a sharp impression to-day? It was then the -most curious street in the world, and it has lost none of its power to -evoke wonder. - -A causeway between the castle and Holyrood, a steep ridge lying between -the Nor' Loch (where now are the Princes' Gardens) and the Sou' Loch -(where now are the Meadows, suburban dwelling) the old height offered -the first refuge to those who would fain live under the shadow of the -castle. As the castle became more and more the center of the kingdom, -dwelling under its shadow became more and more important, if not secure. -The mightiest lords of the kingdom built themselves town houses along -the causeway. French influence was always strong, and particularly in -architecture. So these tall _lands_ rose on either side of the long -street, their high, many-storied fronts on the High Street, their many -more storied backs toward the Lochs. They were, in truth, part of the -defense of the town; from their tall stories the enemy, especially the -"auld enemy," could be espied almost as soon as from the castle. And the -closes, the wynds, those dark tortuous alleys which lead between, and -which to-day in their squalor are the most picturesque corners of all -Europe, were in themselves means of defense in the old days when cannon -were as often of leather as of iron, and guns were new and were little -more reaching than arrows, and bludgeons and skene dhus and fists were -the final effective weapon when assault was intended to the city. - -The ridge divides itself into the Lawnmarket, the High Street, and the -Canongate; St. Giles uniting the first two, and the Netherbow port, now -removed, dividing the last two. - -The Lawnmarket in the old days was near-royal, and within its houses -the great nobles lodged, and royalty was often a guest, or a secret -guest. The High Street was the business street, centering the life of -the city, its trade, its feuds--"a la maniére d'Edimborg" ran the -continental saying of fights--its religion, its executions, its burials. -The Canongate, outside the city proper and outside the Flodden wall and -within the precincts of Holyrood, therefore regarded as under the -protection of Holy Church, became the aristocratic quarters of the later -Stewarts, of the wealthy nobles of the later day. - -I suppose one may spend a lifetime in Edinburgh, with frequent days in -the Old Town, wandering the High Street, with the eye never wearying, -always discovering the new. And I suppose it would take a lifetime, born -in Old Town and of Old Town, to really know the quarter. I am not -certain I should care to spend a lifetime here; but I have never and -shall never spend sufficient of this life here. It is unsavoury of -course; it is slattern, it is squalid, danger lurks in the wynds and -drunkenness spreads itself in the closes. If the old warning cry of -"Gardey loo!" is no longer heard at ten o' the night, one still has need -of the answering "Haud yer hand!" or, your nose. Dr. Samuel Johnson, -walking this street on his first night in Edinburgh, arm in arm with -Boswell, declared, "I can smell you in the dark!" No sensitive visitor -will fail to echo him to-day. There are drains and sewers, there is -modern sanitation in old Edinburgh. But the habits of the centuries are -not easily overcome; and the Old Town still smells as though with all -the old aroma of the far years. Still, it is high, it is wind-swept--and -what of Venice, what of the Latin Quarter, what of Mile End, what of the -East Side? - -But there is still splendour and power, bequeathed as Taylor said, "from -antiquitie to posteritie," in spite of the decline and the decay. If the -palace of Mary of Lorraine on Castle Hill is fallen and the doorways are -in the Museum--Mary who was mother to Mary Queen, and contemporary -worthy to Catherine of Medici--there are still, at the end of the long -street, Moray House and Queensberry House. Moray is where Cromwell -lodged in 1648, and gave no hint of what was coming in 1649; if he had, -history might have been different; to-day Moray House is the United Free -Church Training college! Queensberry House is where lived those -Queensberry marquises of fighting and sporting renown, and where the -Marquis lived who forced through the Act of Union--"There ended an -old song"; and now it is the Refuge for the Destitute! - -[Illustration: MORAY HOUSE.] - -There is still beauty shining through the dust and the cobwebs; here a -doorway with bold insignia and exquisite carving, leading to--nowhere; -here a bit of painting, Norrie's perhaps, or a remnant of timbered -ceiling; and everywhere, now as then--more now than then, since sanitary -destruction has had its way here and there--glimpses of the city and the -moors and the mountains. - -It is invidious to compare, to choose from these closes. Each has its -history, its old habitations, its old associations, its particular -picturesqueness; Lady Stair's, Baxter's, Byer's, Old Stamp Office, White -Horse, and many more. - -Through this street what glory that was Scotland has not passed and what -degradation, what power has not been displayed and what abasement? To -see it now, filled with people and with marching troops in honour of the -visiting king, is to get back a little of ancient history, of greater -glory. It lends itself to such majesty, dull and deserted as it is for -the most part. - -When the King came to Edinburgh following on his coronation, making a -pilgrimage of his realm, he came to St. Giles, as has come every -sovereign of Scotland, from Malcolm who may have worshiped in the Culdee -church, to George in whose honour the chapel of the Thistle and the Rose -was unveiled. - - "For noo, unfaithfu' to the Lord - Auld Scotland joins the rebel horde; - Her human hymn-books on the board - She noo displays, - An' Embro Hie Kirk's been restored - In popish ways." - -On a Sunday morning I hurried to St. Giles to see the trooping of the -colours. (Later, listening to Dr. White, in a recently built reformed -church on Princes Street, I heard a sermon from the text, "You shall see -the king in all his beauty." But, no mention of King George! It was even -as it was in the old days.) - -In truth it was a brave sight to find the High Street thronged with -people, and the regiments marching down from St. Giles to Holyrood. The -king did not enter town till next day. (I saw, with some resentment, -over the door of a public house, the motto, "Will ye no come back -again?") But, somehow, so many kings gone on, the play was rather better -staged with the sovereign not there. I learned then how gorgeous the -old days must have been with their colour and glitter and flash. - -[Illustration: INTERIOR OF ST. GILES.] - -I suppose there was a tall _land_ where in my day stood and still stands -Hogg's hotel, just above the Tron Kirk; the _lands_ on the south side -the High burned a century ago. But, to the American gazing down on -ancient memories and present sovereignties, there was a wonderful -courtesy shown by the hotel. I had interrupted their quiet Sabbath; it -can still be quiet in Edinburgh notwithstanding that a tram car carried -me on my way hither. The dining-room of this hotel looked out on the -High, and it was breakfast time for these covenanting-looking guests -from the countryside. But I, an invader, was made welcome and given the -best seat on the balcony; a stranger and they took me in. Sometime I -shall take up residence in this Latin Quarter, and if not in Lady -Stair's Close, then in Hogg's hotel. The name sounds sweeter if you have -just come up from Ettrick. - -Nor did I miss the King. For - - "I saw pale kings, and princes too, - Pale warriors, death-pale were they all; - Who cry'd--'La Belle Dame sans merci - Hath thee in thrall!'" - -It was the Belle Dame, it was the Queen, I saw most often on the High -Street, riding to and fro from the time of the "haar" on her return -from France, till that last terrible night and the ride to Loch Leven. - -After that you may visit the John Knox house if you will, and read for -your edification its motto. "Lyfe God aboune al and yi nicht-bour as yi -Self," and buy a book or two in its book shop. I took particular -pleasure in buying a girlish picture of Mary Queen, and a book of the -poems of Robert Fergusson, neither of which would have pleasured John. - -After that you may look at the "I. K." in the pavement, and realize that -Dr. Johnson's wish for Knox has been fulfilled--"I hope in the highway." - -After that you may look on the heart stamped in the pavement near St. -Giles, where once stood the Heart of Midlothian, the Old Tolbooth. - -There is only one other memory of High Street and of Scotland that for -me equals that of Mary. It is Montrose. Up the Canongate comes the -rumbling of a tumbril, like the French Revolution. And out of the high -_lands_ there look the hundreds of Covenanting folk, triumphant for the -moment. And on the balcony of Moray House, within which the marriage of -Lady Mary Stewart to the Marquis of Lorne has just been celebrated, -there stands the wedding party, and among them the Earl of Argyle. Up -the street comes the cart. And within it clad like a bridegroom--"fyne -scarlet coat to his knee, trimmed with silver galoons, lined with -taffeta, roses in his shoon, and stockings of incarnet silk"--stands the -Marquis of Montrose, the loyalest Scotsman that ever lived. - -[Illustration: JOHN KNOX'S HOUSE.] - -After the field of Kylsyth, after the field of Philipshaugh, and the -flight to the North and the betrayal, he has been brought back to -Edinburgh, to a swift and covenanting sentence, and to death at the -Tron. - -His eyes meet proudly those of Argyle who has deserted his king and who -thinks to stand in with the Covenant and with the future. It is the eyes -of Argyle which drop. And Montrose goes on. - -His head is on the picket of the Netherbow Port. His four quarters are -sent to the four corners of the kingdom, Glasgow, Perth, Aberdeen, -Inverness. - -But the end is not yet. The tables turn, as they turned so often in -those unstable times. It is Argyle who goes to the scaffold. Charles is -king, the Second Charles. There is an edict. The body of Montrose is dug -up out of the Boroughmoor. It is buried in Holyrood. The four quarters -are reassembled from Glasgow and Perth and Aberdeen and Inverness. A -procession fairly royal moves from Holyrood to St. Giles. At the -Netherbow it pauses. The head is taken down from the pike. The body of -Montrose is whole again. An honourable burial takes place in the -cathedral sanctuary. - -Even though when search was made at the restoring of the church and the -erection of the effigy the remains could not be found, there has been -that justification by procession and by faith, that justification of -loyalty that we remember when we remember Montrose-- - - "He either fears his fate too much, - Or his deserts are small, - That dares not put it to the touch, - To gain or lose it all." - - -_Holyrood_ - -Holyrood, ruined as it is, empty as it is, spurious as it is, still can -house the Stewarts. Nowhere else are they so completely and splendidly -Stewart. It is the royalest race which ever played at being sovereign; -in sharp contrast with the heavier, more successful Tudors; crafty -but less crafty than the Medici; amorous but more loyal than the -Bourbons. - -[Illustration: JAMES GRAHAM, MARQUIS OF MONTROSE.] - -Never did kings claim sovereignty through a more divine right--and only -one (whisper sometimes intimates that he was not Stewart, but -substitute; but he left a Stewart descent) failed to pay the penalty for -such assertion. It was the splendour which was Stewart while they lived, -the tragedy that was Stewart when they came to die, which makes them the -royal race. - -There were born in Holyrood not one of them, unless it be James V. But -almost all of them were married in Holyrood, held here their festive -days, and, not one of them died in Holyrood. It is their life, the vivid -intense flash of it, across those times that seem mysterious, even -legendary in remembered times north of the Border. Life was a holiday to -each of the Stewarts, and he spent it in the palace and in the pleasance -of Holyrood. - -The Abbey, with the monastery which was attached to it, begins far back -before the Stewarts. It was founded by David I, the abbey-builder. -Legend has it that he went a-hunting on a holy day, and straying from -the "noys and dyn of Bugillis," a white stag came against him. David -thought to defend himself, but a hand bearing a cross came out of the -cloud, and the stag was exorcised. David kept the cross. In dream that -night within the castle he was commanded to build an abbey where he had -been saved, and the hunting place being this scant mile and a quarter -from the castle--then a forest where now it is treeless--David placed -this convenient abbey where it has stood for six centuries, defying fire -and war and reformation, until the citizens of Edinburgh ravaged it when -the roof fell in in the middle of the eighteenth century. - -There is a curious feeling when one crosses the Girth stones at the -lower end of the Canongate. It is a century and more since this was -sanctuary. But it is impossible to step across these stones, into the -"Liberty of Holyrood," and not wonder if there may not perhaps be some -need in your own soul of sanctuary. Thousands and thousands of -men--"abbey lairds" as they were pleasantly called--have stepped across -this line before me, through the centuries. Who am I to be different, -unneedful? May I not need inviolate sanctuary? May it not be that at my -heels dogs some sinister creditor who will seize me by the skirts before -I reach the boundary beyond which there is no exacting for debt? A -marvelous thing, this ancient idea of sanctuary. It made an oasis of -safety in a savage world. Surely it was super-christian. And here, at -Holyrood, as the medieval statute declares, "qukilk privelege has -bene inviolabie observit to all maner of personis cuman wythin the -boundes ... past memorie of man." What has the modern world given -itself in place of ancient sanctuary? Justice, I suppose, and a jury -trial. - -[Illustration: HOLYROOD PALACE.] - -But, once across the Girth, one becomes, not a sanctuarian, but a -Stewart. - -The situation is a little dreary, a little flat. And the palace, as a -palace, is altogether uninteresting to look on. It is not the building -of David or of the earlier Stewarts. But of that Merry Monarch who -harboured so long in France, when England was determining whether it -would be royal or republican, and Scotland was determining whether it -would be covenanted or uncovenanted. The Merry Monarch was ever an -uncovenanted person, not at all Scottish, although somewhat like the -errant James--whose errancy was of his own choosing. Charles had -acquired a French taste at the court of his cousin, Louis the Grand. So -the new Holyrood was built in French baronial style. And no monarch has -ever cared to inhabit it for any length of time. Only King Edward VII, -who would have been a happy successor to James, but Edward was very -studious in those days of 1859, when he lodged here and studied under -the direction of the Rector of the Royal High School. Still I can but -think that it was in this Stewart place that Edward developed his -Stewartship. - -There is not a stone to speak of the magnificence, of the strength, of -David. The Abbey was burned and burned again, by Edward and Richard the -Second, and entirely rebuilt when the Stewarts were beginning to be -splendid and assured. Over the west doorway, high-arched and -deep-recessed, early English in its technique, Charles I, who was -crowned here in 1633, caused the stone to be placed. - - "He shall build ane House for my name and I will stablish the - throne of his kingdom forever." - -The tablet still stands above the doorway. But Charles is lying for his -sins in a vault at St. George's chapel at Windsor far in the south, -having paid his penalty on the scaffold in Whitehall. And the House is -in ruins, "bare ruined choir," where not even "the late birds sing." -Although Mendelssohn in speaking of the impression the Abbey made on -him, does say, "I think I found there the beginnings of my Scotch -symphony." - -This "magnificent Abbey-Kirk of Halirude" was no doubt very splendid; -although in architectural beauty it cannot compare with Melrose, not -even the great east window with its rich quatrefoil tracing. But what -scenes have been staged in that historic drama, that theatrical piece, -we call the history of the Stewarts! - -Before the high altar, under that east window, when James I was kneeling -before God in prayer, there appeared the Lord of the Isles, come -repentant from burning Inverness and other rebellion, to kneel before -the king, his own sword pointed at his breast. - -Before this altar James II was married to Mary of Gueldres. James III -was married to Margaret of Denmark, who brought the Orkneys as her -dower. James IV was married to Margaret Tudor, the union of the "Thistle -and the Rose." James V was not married here, he went to France for his -frail bride, Magdalene, who lived but seven weeks in this inhospitable -land, this hospitable Holyrood. She was buried in Holyrood chapel, only -to be dug up and tossed about as common clay when the Edinburgh citizens -made football of royal skulls. - -The two sons of James VI, Henry who should have been king and who might -have united royalist and commoner had fate granted it, and Charles who -was to become king, were both christened here. James VII, brother to -Charles II, restored this Chapel Royal and prepared it for the Roman -ritual. James VIII was never here, or but as a baby. Charles III--did -the Bonnie Prince in that brief brilliant Edinburgh moment of his, ever -kneel before this then deserted altar and ask divine favour while he -reasserted the divine right of kings? - -Here--or was it secretly, in Stirling?--the Queen--one says The Queen -and all the world knows--gowned in black velvet, at five o'clock on a -July morning, was married to her young cousin, Henry Darnley. A marriage -that endured two long terrible tumultuous years. - -Here--or was it in the drawing-room?--at two o'clock on a May morning, -the Queen was married to Bothwell, by Adam Bothwell, Bishop of Orkney, -not with mass as she had been wed to her boy-cousin, but with preaching -as she wed the Bishop's cousin. And "at this marriage there was neither -pleasure nor pastime used as use was wont to be used when princes were -married." So says the Diurnal Occurents of Scotland. A marriage that -endured a brief, perhaps happy, tragedy-gathering month. - -And the Queen beautiful was destroyed, by the Reformation, like an -Abbey. - -[Illustration: JAMES IV.] - -The bones of Darnley were ravaged by the citizens of Edinburgh out of -the ruins of this chapel. Or were they carried to Westminster by that -unroyal son who was so laggard in caring for the remains of his queenly -mother? I hope that Darnley does not rest beside her. For I think those -exquisite marble fingers of the effigy in Henry VII's chapel, looking I -fain believe as those of Mary looked, tapering, lovely, sinister, would -not so fold themselves in prayer without unfolding through the long -centuries. - -In the old palace the most glorious days were those when James IV was -king. As the most glorious days of Scotland were those which are almost -legendary. The palace still had the grandeur that was Norman and the -grace that was early English under David. Its front, towered and -pinnacled, suggesting more fortress security than this dull château, -opened upon a great outer court that lay between the palace and the -walls. Coming down the Canongate from the castle it must have looked -very splendid to James. And yet he did not care to remain in it long. -All the Stewarts had errant souls, and they loved to wander their -kingdom through. It presented ample opportunity for adventure; scarce a -Stewart ever left Scotland. That last Prince, who flashed across -Scotland in one last Stewart sword thrust--"My friends," he said in -Holyrood the night before Prestonpans, "I have thrown away the -scabbard"--was but treading in the steps of his royal forebears, the -royal fore-errants. - -In the days of James IV--we say it as one should say in the days of -Haroun al Raschid, and indeed Edinburgh was in those early years of the -Fifteen Hundreds the Bagdad of the world, and her days as well as her -nights were truly Arabian--the world must have looked much as it does on -the pleasant morning when we make our royal entry into Holyrood. - -The Abbey grounds, a regal area then, and still a regality, were rich -with woodland and orchard, and terraced and flowered into southern -beauty. The red crags of the Salisbury ridge rose bold above as they do -to-day, and crowning the scene the leonine form of Arthur's Seat above -the green slopes, the lion keeping guard against the invading lion of -England! I think James must often have climbed to that height to look -forth over his domain, over his city, to watch the world, as King -Arthur--whom he did not resemble--did legendary centuries before. - -It was a busy time in Edinburgh; men's hands and wits were working. In -Leith, then as now the port, then as now a separate burgh, there was -much shipping and much building of ships; King James dreamed of a navy, -and he had an admirable admiral in Sir Anthony Wood. In the castle there -was the forging of guns, the "seven sisters of Brothwick," under -direction of the king's master gunner, while Mons Meg looked on, and -perhaps saw the near terrible future when these sisters of hers should -be lost at Flodden. - -In the city there was the splendid beginning of that intellectual life -which has ever been quick in Edinburgh. It was a joyous time; witness -the account from the lord High treasurer-- - -"On the 11th of February, 1488, we find the king bestowing nine pounds -on gentil John, the English fule; on the 10th of June we have an item to -English pipers who played to the king at the castle gate, of eight -pounds eight shillings; on the thirty-first of August Patrick Johnson -and his fellows, that playit a play to the king, in Lithgow, receives -three pounds; Jacob the lutar, the king of bene, Swanky that brought -balls to the king, twa wemen that sang to his highness, Witherspoon the -foular, that told tales and brought fowls, Tom Pringill the trumpeter, -twa fithelaris that sang Grey Steill to the king, the broken-bakkit -fiddler of St. Andrew's, Quhissilgyllourie a female dancer, Willie -Mercer who lap in the stank by the king's command." - -Oh, a royal and democratic and merry time. It was Flodden that made men -old, that tragic climax to this splendour. - -"In the joyous moneth tyme of June," in the pleasant garden of the -town-house of the great Earl of Angus, looking down on the still waters -of the Nor' Loch, and across the woods and moors to the glittering blue -Firth, there sat the pale stripling, Gavin Douglass, third son of -Douglass, Archibald Bell-the-Cat, late in orders at Mony musk, but now -come up to St. Giles as prior in spite of his youth, and more absorbed -in poetry than men. - - "More pleased that in a barbarous age - He gave rude Scotland Virgil's page, - Than that beneath his rule he held - The bishopric of fair Dunkeld." - -Here I would dispute Scott. After all, Dark Ages are not always as dark -as they look to those who come after. And if the "Dark Ages" of Europe -were brilliantly luminous in Moslem capitals, Bagdad and Cordova, so -"rude Scotland" was more polished under James IV than England under -Henry VII, or France under Louis XII. - -As Gavin has recorded in "The Palice of Honour," he had interview with -Venus in her proper limbo, and she had presented him with a copy of -Virgil, bidding him translate it. And so, quite boldly, before any -Englishman had ventured, and all through the winter, forgetful--except -when he wrote his prefaces of - - scharp soppis of sleit and of the snypand snaw - -he had worked over his translation, from the Latin into the Scottish, -and now it was nearly ready "to go to the printer," or more like, to be -shown to the king. In sixteen months he had completed thirteen books; -for he had added a book of Maphæus Vegius, without discrimination. - -He was certain of the passage _facilis descensus Averni_, for Gavin was -Scotch, the time was Stewart. It ran in this wise-- - - "It is richt facill and eithgate, I tell thee - For to descend, and pass on down to hell, - The black zettis of Pluto, and that dirk way - Stand evir open and patent nicht and day. - But therefore to return again on hicht - And heire above recovir this airis licht - That is difficul werk, thair labour lyis, - Full few thair bene quhom hiech above the skyis, - Thare ardent vertue has raisit and upheit - Or zit quhame equale Jupiter deifyit, - Thay quhilkie bene gendrit of goddes may thy oder attane - All the mydway is wilderness unplane - Or wilsum forest; and the laithlie flude - Cocytus, with his drery bosom unrude - Flows environ round about that place." - -But he was not quite certain that he had been splendid enough, and -daring enough, in his application of the royal lines-- - - "Hic Cæsar et omnis Iuli - Progenies, magnum caeli ventura sub axem." - -So he had sent for his friend, William Dunbar, Kynges Makar, laureate to -the sovereign. And Dunbar was never loath for a "Flyting," a scolding. -He had them on every hand, with every one, and not only those he held -with "gude maister Walter Kennedy," and published for the amusement of -the King and his Court. It was a more solemn event when the future -Bishop of Dunkeld summoned him. Though Gavin was fifteen years younger -than William, he was more serious with much study, and under the shadow -of future honours, and then, too, he was a Douglass. - -So Dunbar came, striding up the Canongate between the tall inquisitive -houses--even he found them "hampered in a honeycaim of their own -making"--a very handsome figure, this Dunbar, in his red velvet robe -richly fringed with fur, which he had yearly as his reward from the -King, and which I doubt not he preferred to the solemn Franciscan robe -he had renounced when he entered the King's service. - -James was away at Stirling. James was a poet also. Surely, on internal -evidence, it is the Fourth James and not the Fifth, who wrote those -charming, and improper poems, "The Gaberlunzieman" and "The Jolly -Beggar." - - "He took a horn frae his side, and blew baith loud and shrill, - And four and twenty belted knights came skipping o'er the hill. - - "And he took out his little knife, loot a' his duddies fa'; - And he was the brawest gentleman that was amang them a'." - - "And we'll gang nae mair a roving, - So late into the night; - And we'll gang nae mair a roving, boys, - Let the moon shine ne'er so bright." - -Dunbar, official Makar, would fain secure the criticism of young Gavin -on this joyous lament he had writ to the King in absence-- - - "We that here in Hevenis glory ... - I mean we folk in Paradyis - In Edinburgh with all merriness." - -And perhaps the young Gavin and the old Dunbar in their common -fellowship of poetry, would drink a glass of red wine in memory of -friends passed into death's dateless night--_Timor Mortis conturbat me_. - - "He has Blind Harry and Sandy Traill - Slaine with his schour of mortall haill.... - In Dunfermelyne he had done rovne - With Maister Robert Henrisoun." - -And Dunbar, who was so much more human than Gavin, if older, would quote -those immortal new lines of Henryson-- - - "Robene sat on gude grene hill - Kepand a flok of fe, - Mirry Makyne said him till, - Robene, thow pity on me." - -While Gavin, so much elder than his looks, and mindful of Scottish as -well as of Trojan history, would quote from Blind Harry in the name of -Wallace-- - - "I grant, he said, part Inglismen I slew - In my quarrel, me thocht nocht halff enew. - I mowyt na war but for to win our awin (own). - To God and man the rycht full weill is knawin (known)." - -Then Dunbar would wrap his rich red robe about him--I hope he wore it on -ordinary days, or were there any when James the Fourth was king?--and -stride back, through the Canongate to Holyrood, back to the court, where -he would meet with young David Lindsay, of a different sort from young -Gavin Douglass. And they would chuckle over "Kitteis Confessioun," a -dialogue between Kitty and the curate, which Lindsay had just -written--and would not Dunbar be gracious and show it to the King? - - Quod he, "Have ye na wrangous geir?" - Quod scho, "I staw ane pek o' beir." - Quod he, "That suld restorit be, - Tharefore delyver it to me." - Quod he, "Leve ye in lecherie?" - Quod scho, "Will Leno mowit me." - Quod he, "His wyfe that sall I tell, - To mak hir acquentance with my-sell." - Quod he, "Ken ye na heresie?" - "I wait nocht quhat that is," quod scho. - Quod he, "Hard he na Inglis bukis?" - Quod scho, "My maister on thame lukis." - Quod he, "The bischop that sall knaw, - For I am sworne that for to schaw." - Quod he, "What said he of the King?" - Quod scho, "Of gude he spak naething." - Quod he; "His Grace of that sall wit, - And he sall lose his lyfe for it." - -Perhaps Warbeck was listening, Perkin Warbeck who pretended to be Duke -of York, pretended to the English crown. So Scotland harboured him, and -Holyrood was hospitable to him. James married him to Lady Jane Gordon, -and for years, until he wearied of it, maintained a protectorate over -this pinchbeck Pretender. - -I am certain that Dom Pedro de Ayala did not linger in the court to -gossip with Dunbar, or with the hangers-on. Dom Pedro had come up from -Spain on a strange ambassadorial errand, to offer to James in marriage a -Spanish princess, knowing well that there might be no Spanish princess -(Maria was betrothed to Portugal); but no doubt believing that there -ought to be, since James was slow in marrying, and surely a Spanish -princess would best mate this royalest of the Stewarts. Dom Pedro better -liked the extravagant kingly court at Holyrood than the niggardly court -at Windsor. He wrote home to Ferdinand and Isabella, "The kingdom is -very old, and very noble, and the king possessed of great virtues, and -no defects worth mentioning." No defects! Certainly not. James had the -qualities of his defects, and these were royal. James could speak--not -keep still--in eight languages, and could and did say "all his prayers." -So Dom Pedro reports to his Most Catholic Majesty. - -When he was thirty years old, this King Errant married, not the -hypothetical daughter of Spain, but the substantial youthful Margaret -Tudor, aged fourteen. The Scottish king would none of the alliance for -years; James preferred hypothetical brides and errant affairs. But -the English king saw the advantage and pressed it. He had united the -roses, red and white, of England; he would fain join the thistle to the -rose. - -[Illustration: MARGARET TUDOR, QUEEN OF JAMES IV.] - -So James, in August, 1503, journeyed out to Dalkeith, whither Margaret -had come. He returned to "hys bed at Edinborg varey well countent of so -fayr a meetyng." A few days later, Margaret made her entry into -Edinburgh, James having met her, gallantly dressed in "a jacket of -crimson velvet bordered with cloth of gold." Leaving his restive -charger, "mounting on the pallefroy of the Qwene, and the said Qwene -behind hym, so rode throw the towne of Edinburgh." Their route lay -through the Grassmarket up to the Castle Hill, and down the High Street -and the Canongate, to the Abbey. Here they were received by the -Archbishop of St. Andrews. Next day they were married by the Archbishop -of Glasgow, the Archbishop of York joining in the solemn and magnificent -celebration. - -It is the most splendid moment in Edinburgh history, within the Abbey -and the palace, and within the city. The Town Cross ran with wine, the -high _lands_ were hung with banners and scarlet cloth, and morality -plays were performed before the people. In the palace there was a royal -scene. And our friend, William Dunbar, Kynges Makar, read his allegory -of "The Thrissl and the Roiss," which is still worth reading, if Chaucer -is worth reading. - -But, at night, in the royal apartment, the night before the wedding, -perhaps in the fragment of the old palace which remains, the gallant -king played to the little princess upon the virginal; and then, on -bended knee and with unbonneted head, he listened while she played and -sang to him. Out of the dark of the time it is a shining scene; and out -of the splendour of the moment it brings a note of tenderness. - -Another decade, another August, and the Boroughmoor (where now run the -links of Burntland) was covered with the white of a thousand tents, -Scotland was gathered for war, the "ruddy lion ramped in gold" floated -war-like over all, and James and all Scotland prepared to march down to -Flodden, heeding not the warning which had sounded at midnight in -ghostly voice at the Town Cross; a warning no doubt arranged by -Margaret, never a Stewart, always a Tudor. And--all Scotland was turned -into a house of mourning. - -Half a century later the history of Scotland came to a climax, and Mary -Stewart came to Holyrood; that queen who then and ever since held half -the world in thrall, like another Iseult. The covenanted world has -rejected her, as no doubt it would reject Iseult. - -Shrouded in a gray "haar" from off the North Sea, rising like a Venus -out of the mists of the sea, Mary Stewart, Dowager of France, Queen of -Scotland, Heiress of England, came unto her own. And, her own received -her, and, received her not. - -The castle hanging high in air no longer hung there. The palace lying -low on the plain was not there, on that August 19, 1561. There was -nothing but what was near at hand; Mary could not see a hundred feet -into her kingdom. In truth she arrived at port a week before the ship -was expected--and Mary also flashed through her kingdom; witness the -ride across the Marches to the Hermitage, and the ride through the North -to punish Huntley. Hers was a restless soul, a restless body. - -On her return to the kingdom she was accompanied by a great retinue, -three of her French uncles of Guise and of Lorraine, her four Maries, -and many ambassadors. It was a suspended moment in the world, the sixth -decade of the sixteenth century. And nowhere were affairs in such -delicate balance, or so like to swing out of balance as in Scotland; -where religion, sovereignty, feudalism, morality, were swaying dizzily. -So all the world sent their keenest ambassadors to observe, to foresee -if possible, to report. - -Yet Mary rode through the mists. - -"Si grand brouillard," says the Sieur de Brantome, that gossipy -chronicler, and Mary and her French courtiers and Scotch Maries, rode -through the "haar," from Leith up whatever was the Leith Walk of that -day to Holyrood. - -The palace must have rung with French chatter, of these wondering and -inquisitive and critical folk; for all the cultured world was French in -those days, and Mary and her Maries had been only five or six when they -left stormy Scotland for the pleasant smiling land of France. - -Not for long was she permitted to believe she had brought France back -with her and there was no reality in Scotland but as she made it. -Reformation pressed in upon her, even through the windows of this turret -where again she seems to listen to that prophetic and pious serenade, -Scottish protestant psalms accompanied by fiddles and sung to a French -Catholic queen. "Vile fiddles and rebecks," complains Brantome, -hesitating to call vile the mob of five hundred gathered in the Scotch -mists; but they sang "so ill and with such bad accord that there could -be nothing worse. Ah, what music, and what a lullaby for the night!" - -The rooms of Mary are still inclosed, the walls still stand about them, -and a romantic care withholds the ravages of time from those tapestries -and silken bed hangings, dark crimson damask, which Mary drew about her -on that night of her return. And here hangs a picture of Queen -Elizabeth, authentic, Tudoresque, which did not hang here when Mary -returned; but what dark shadow of Elizabeth lurked behind these -hangings! The very guard to whom you protest the picture understands--"I -think it an insult to her memory." - -It is here that Queen Mary still reigns. All the old palace was burned, -carelessly, by Cromwell's soldiers, at what time men were caring nothing -for palaces, and less for royalty. But, fate was royal, was Jacobite, -and this gray turret of the northwest corner a building of James V on a -foundation of James IV--perhaps where he had listened in the evening to -Margaret and her virginal--was saved from the wrath of the Commonwealth. -Within these very walls Mary played on the virginal, perhaps on the -rebeck, and many sought to know her stops--"you can fret me, yet you -cannot play upon me." - -Here she was loved, as she still is loved. Here she made love, the -mystery!--as always. Here she flashed those bright eyes on courtiers and -commoners and straightway these fell into bondage--the Stewarts never -drew the line of division. Here those eyes battled with John Knox as he -met her in Dialogues, as John has faithfully recorded. And here those -bright eyes filled with a storm of tears at his denunciation; but Knox -felt their power. Here she met Darnley, in the chapel married him, and -Knox called after dinner to declare that the Reformation did not -approve. Here by the very stairs of the turret Darnley led the murderers -on Rizzio, from his private apartments to hers. (I find it fit that Ker -of Fawdonside, one of the murderers, should have married later the widow -of Knox.) Mary was held here a prisoner; they would "cut her into -collops and cast her over the wall" if she summoned help. But Mary could -order that the blood stains of the fifty-six wounds of Rizzio should -remain "ane memoriall to quychen her revenge." They quicken our thought -of Mary to-day--if we accept them. From Holyrood Mary went to Kirk o' -Field on a Sunday night in February to visit Darnley who lay "full -of the small pox." He had come back from Bothwell castle on Mary's -urging; but he had gone to Bothwell to escape her revenge for Rizzio. -She returned to Holyrood--"the Queen's grace gang and with licht torches -up the Black Friar's Wynd"--where the wedding festivities of a member of -her household were in progress. And, I doubt not, devoted to Mary as I -am, that she was the merriest of the company. - -[Illustration: _Bothwell Castle_] - -Then the dark. - -Then, at two in morning, an explosion that shook all Edinburgh, that -astonished the world, that still reverberates through the world. - -Then--the dark. - -A marriage, at two in the morning, a flight to Borthwick, a meeting at -Carberry, one more night in Edinburgh, in a house as mean as that of -Kirk o' Field, a day at Holyrood, and a forced ride with ruffian nobles, -Lindsay and Ruthven on each hand, to Loch Leven, thirty miles in the -night of June 16, 1567--and Edinburgh and Holyrood and the Crown of -Scotland know her no more. - - "Helen's lips are drifting dust, - Ilion is consumed in rust." - -And Mary. And Holyrood. - -There is one more Holyrood scene descending from this. On a Saturday -evening, March 26, 1603, the son of Mary, the King of Scotland, supped -with the Queen, perhaps in that small supper room where Rizzio was -supping with a queen; and they had retired. "The palace lights were -going out, one by one." And Sir Robert Carey, three days out from -London, clattered into the courtyard, the King was roused, Sir Robert -knelt before him-- - -"Queen Elizabeth is dead, and Your Majesty is King of England!" - -James I of England, James VI of Scotland, son of Mary, son of Darnley, -son of the ninth generation from Bruce, The Bruce. The "auld enemy" is -finally defeated; and to borrow again from Rosaline Masson, "the lights -of Holyrood went out, one by one." - -In the long picture gallery of this dull modern palace, nothing of which -either Mary or James ever saw, there hangs a series of portraits, one -hundred pictures of Scottish kings, painted under order of Charles II in -1680, by the Fleming, DeWitt, who agreed to furnish the pictures in two -years for one hundred and twenty pounds. They begin with Fergus I, 330 -B. C. They are the kings who passed before the prophetic vision of -Banquo. Enough to frighten Macbeth! - -One brief brilliant ghost of Stewart glory returns. In this gallery was -held the ball of Prince Charles Edward, described in "Waverley." - -And after this theatric moment, and after the Prince had defeated the -"royalists" at Falkirk, Hardy's dragoons slashed these pictures of -Scottish kings, since the Prince they could not reach. - - -_Princes Gardens_ - -There are certain public places of beauty where the beauty is so -enveloping that the place seems one's very own, seems possessed. That, I -take it, is the great democratic triumph, in that it has made beauty a -common possession and places of beauty as free to the people as is the -air. - -Chief of these is Princes Street Gardens. - -I could, in truth I have, spent there days and half-days, and twilights -that I would willingly have lengthened to midnights, since the northern -night never quite descends, but a romantic gray twilight veils -everything, and evokes more than everything. For any lengthened visit in -Edinburgh I dare not inhabit a hotel room on the Garden side, since all -my time would be spent at the window. For a shorter visit, such a room -lengthens the day, defies the closed gate of the Gardens. - -It was from such a window as this, "From a Window in Princes Street" -that Henley looked forth-- - - "Above the crags that fade and gloom - Starts the bare knee of Arthur's Seat; - Ridged high against the evening bloom - The Old Town rises, street on street; - With lamps bejeweled, straight ahead, - Like rampird walls the houses lean, - All spired and domed and turreted, - Sheer to the valley's darkling green; - Ranged in mysterious array, - The Castle menacing and austere, - Looms through the lingering last of day; - And in the silver dusk you hear, - Reverberated from crag and scar, - Bold bugles blowing points of war." - -Princes Street is, I believe, not a mile long, a half-mile the part -which is gardened. It is the loveliest street in the world. It seems -infinite instead of half-mile. - -Of course to the loyal American that praise is received half-way. For he -remembers Riverside Drive with the majesty of the Hudson, North Shore -Drive with the shoreless infinity of Lake Michigan, Summit Avenue with -the deep gorge of the Upper Mississippi, Quebec and its Esplanade. -But even these "handsome streets" cannot match Princes for history and -beauty in one, for the old and the new, for the Old Town and the New -Town. - -[Illustration: PRINCES STREET.] - -Princes Street, to speak briefly of its geography, is a broad -thoroughfare, with a medley of buildings on the north side, but uniform -in gray stone, where hotels and shops furnish the immediate life of the -city. There are electric cars running the full length of the street; and -it is the only street I know which is not spoiled through the presence -of these necessary carriers. - -There are cabs, and there are sight-seeing cars, from which in high -advantage, and in half a day, you can see everything in Edinburgh. -Yes, actually. I who speak to you have done it, partly for the -greed of seeing it steadily and seeing it whole, and partly for the -comment of these Scotch coach drivers and guards, who are not merely -Scottish but the essence of Scotland. I shall never forget how -an American traveler--of course they are all Americans in these -tally-hos--commenting on the driver's remark that the "Old Queen" wanted -to build a palace where Donaldson's Hospital now stands and she was -refused--"but she was the Queen!" Nevertheless, asserted Mr. Sandy -Coachman, "She was refused." Not so in the old days of Queenship. - -The entire life of Edinburgh, of Scotland, streams through this broad -straight street. - -On the opposite side lie the Gardens, stretching their way parallel with -the street, a wide, green-lawned, tree-forested purlieu, terraced and -flowered, with a "sunken garden" near the Castle-side, through which -trains are conveyed. The smoke, so much lamented, does often rest with -grace and gray loveliness in the hollows of the place, so that one does -not miss the waters of the Nor' Loch that once flowed here as moat. - -Above rises the castle in greater majesty than from any other point. -Down from the castle runs the ridge of the High Street, and the high -_lands_ with flags of washing hanging out the windows which answer the -flags red and leoninely rampant, on the buildings of Princes Street. The -crown of St. Giles and the spire of the Tronkirk hanging above all. - -To the west is St. John's, where in the graveyard Raeburn is buried; and -old St. Cuthbert's, where in the graveyard De Quincey is buried. There -are Raeburns in the Royal gallery which stands on the island dividing -the Gardens, and there are many Raeburns here and there, in private -rooms of banks and other institutions, rare Raeburns with that casual, -direct, human look he could give men and women. The galleries are worth -a visit both for their best, and for their not-best. There are statues -of famous Scotsmen on the terraces, and of course the Scott monument, -beautifully Gothic, and as sacred as a shrine. - -There are goods to be bought in the shops, pebbles and cairngorms in -jewelry and kickshaws of that ilk; rugs and plaidies, sashes and ties, -and Scott and Stevenson books bound in the Royal Stewart silk. Unhappy -the traveler who has not provided himself beforehand with a tartan. -Almost every one can if he will. And there is always the college of -heraldry to help one out. Or the audacity of choosing the tartan you -like best; an affront, I assure you, to all good Scots. For however -unlovely a Scotch tartan may be in the eyes of the world--nominations -are invidious--in the eyes of the clansman there is nothing so "right" -as his own particular tartan. He would not exchange it for a Douglass or -a Stewart. - -These tartans have exerted a very marked effect on the Scottish sense of -taste. On Princes Street you may not find such richly dressed women as -on Regent Street, but the harmony of colouring will please you better. -While no doubt this is due to the fact that for several hundred years -the Scottish taste has had the benefit of intimate association with the -French, it can also be traced to the longer centuries during which -tartans have brought an understanding of colour harmonies. Because there -has been this love of colour, there has come with it vanity. With vanity -there has come that rare ability of the women of the race to maintain a -unity, a harmony, a complete relationship between skirts and waists. -There is no country in Europe where the "act of union" at the feminine -waistline is so triumphant as in Scotland, particularly in Edinburgh. -The universal American achievement has been equaled in Europe only in -Scotland. - -There are teashops which invite you in, when the wind sweeps too -harshly, or the rain beats itself into more than a Scotch mist, or even -when the sun shines too hot. There is a garden tea place on top of a -high hotel which confronts the Castle. Even in this Far North there is -much open air dining, and more especially open air tea-ing. I am not -certain that Dr. Johnson would have much cared for this modern tea room, -where he might review the world. It seems that he drank much tea when -he was the guest of Boswell, especially when he was the guest of Mrs. -Boswell, in James Court the other side the Gardens. "Boswell has -handsome and very spacious rooms, level with the ground on one side of -the house, and the other four stories high." And Boswell says of -Johnson, "My wife had tea ready for him, which it is well known he -delights to drink at all times, particularly when sitting up late." From -this roof tea garden one can see James's Court at the top of the Mound, -although the Boswell lodgings are burned down. And one can almost see -Holyrood, where tea was introduced by James VII. - -After you have shopped and had your tea, and the past retakes -possession, you will return to the green valley of the Gardens, to -forget the clang of the tram cars, to look up at the great Castle Hill, -green until it meets the buff-coloured stone and the buff-coloured -buildings that seem to grow out of the stone, if it is a clear day; -while the ramparts seem temporarily to have blossomed with red -geraniums, if red coats are leaning over the edge. - -A clear day in Edinburgh is possible. I have spent a month of such days, -and have longed for the mists, a touch of them, that the castle might -turn to a purple wonder, and the deep blue shadows sink over it, and -the gray precipice of the High Street look higher than ever. Gray is in -truth the colour of Edinburgh, "the gray metropolis of the North." But -it is never a dreary gray, never a heavy gray like London. There the -gray is thick, charged with soot; one can rub it from his face. In -Edinburgh the gray is luminous, a shifting playing colour, with deep -shadows turning to deep blue, with rifts or thinnings of the cloud, -through which yellow and brown glimmers make their way. - -Above all, Edinburgh is never monotonous. That is perhaps its charm, a -something that every feminine city knows; Edinburgh is feminine, and -Paris, and Venice, and New Orleans. - -And there hangs the castle, sometimes in midair-- - - "Hast thou seen that lordly castle, that castle by the sea? - Golden and red above it the clouds float gorgeously." - -Sometimes standing stalwart and stern, a challenge to daring, a -challenge to history. That farther edge of the Castle Hill as it is -silhouetted against the west sky--if you walk around on Lothian Street -you can see the full face of the Rock--has invited many an adventurer, -both from within and without. - -It was down that steep hill that the sons of Margaret carried their -queen mother, when the hosts of Donalbane were besieging the place, and -a Scotch "haar" rolling in from the sea and shutting off the castle -enabled the little procession to pass safely with its precious burden, -and swiftly down to the Queen's ferry, and across to Dunfermline. - -Up the face of that Rock when The Bruce did not hold this stronghold -there stole in the night of a thirteenth century winter--it must have -been much colder, even in Edinburgh, in the thirteenth century--a picked -band of men; picked by Randolph afterward Earl of Moray, and led by -Frank, who, years before when he had been a soldier in the castle -garrison and night leave was forbidden, used to make his way down this -cliff to visit a bonnie lassie in the West Bow. Now, on a wind-swept -night, which can be very windy around that castle profile--the wind has -not abated since the thirteenth century--Frank led the remembered way. I -wonder if he remembered the lassie. But his footing was sure. Once, it -is true, the sentinel seemed to have discovered them. But it was only -the boast the sentinel makes to the night when he makes his last round. -The men huddled against the face of the Rock. Then they moved onward. -The ladders were too short to reach the rampart. Two were bound -together. The men over, the cry "A Moray!" rings in the castle. Scotland -has won it again. - -Another century, and James III is king. This least royal of the -Stewarts, jealous of his more royal brother, locked the Duke of Albany -in the castle, and felt secure. But the Duke had friends. A French -clipper came into Leith. It brought wine to Albany, and the wine cask -contained a rope. Inviting his guardians to sup with him, he plied them -with heated wine, perhaps drugged wine, then, the dagger. Albany's -servant insisted on going down the rope first. It was short, he fell the -rest of the distance. Albany hurried back for the sheets from his bed, -made his safe way down. He carried the servant man all the way to -Leith--he had just "whingered" the guard--found the boat, and safety, -and France. - -Up the Rock, in Covenanting days, stole Claverhouse, the Bonnie Dundee, -to a secret conference with the Duke of Gordon, hoping to win him away -to Stewart loyalty and the North. - -I cannot remember that any of Scott's characters went this way. He -thought it "scant footing for a cat." But Stevenson knew the way. -Perhaps not actually, but he sent more than one of his characters up -or down the Rock--St. Ives with a rope that was long enough to reach. - -[Illustration: JOHN GRAHAM OF CLAVERHOUSE, VISCOUNT DUNDEE.] - - -_Calton Hill_ - -Perhaps the best view of Edinburgh--only perhaps, for each view differs, -and you have not seen the whole city unless you have seen it from the -various vantage points--is that from the Calton Hill. For a very good -reason. The Hill itself is negligible enough, although it is impossible -to understand Edinburgh, to understand Scotland, unless you have looked -on the architectural remnants on this Hill, and considered them -philosophically. But, as Stevenson said--"Of all places for a view, the -Calton Hill is perhaps the best; since you can see the castle, which you -lose from the castle, and Arthur's Seat, which you cannot see from -Arthur's Seat." An excellent reason, which also places the castle and -Arthur's Seat. - -Calton Hill does not tower so high over the city as these other two -points; one may still look up to Arthur's Seat, one may look across to -the castle. Yet, the city lies near. Yet, the country rolls out to the -Firth, and out to the Pentlands. Perhaps a gray-sea haze dulls the far -edge of the far Kingdom of Fife. Perhaps a blue haze hangs over the -Pentlands. Perhaps a smoke-cloud makes a nearer sky for the town itself, -this Auld Reekie. Not only perhaps, but very probably. There are clear -days in Edinburgh. They are to be treasured. There is no air more -stimulating in all the world. October sometimes slips into the other -months of the year, fills the air with wine, clears the air of filament. -But, not often, not often for the tourist from beyond seas who makes -Edinburgh in the summer. But still it is possible from Calton Hill to -catch the farthest glory of the encircling hills, and the near glory of -the ever glorious city. - -The Hill itself is a place of monuments, and a very pretentious place. -Also, very absurd. I suppose it is possible to be of two minds about the -remnant of the Parthenon which stands so conspicuously on the highest -plateau, a construction dating back to that royal time when George the -Fourth came to this northern capital, and was--alas!--received as though -he were Bonnie Prince Charlie himself; and was received--again alas!--by -Sir Walter clad in a Campbell plaid, and as loyal to the Regent, the -florid Florizel, as he had been to Prince Charles in the "Waverleys." -Because of all these loyalties this never finished monument, with its -twelve columns and architrave spread above, looks sufficiently pathetic, -and sufficiently absurd. "A very suitable monument to certain national -characteristics," said a later Scots writer, who perhaps never ceased -being a Jacobite. - -There are monuments; one to Dugald Stewart, and the visitor not -philosophical is apt to ask, Who was Dugald Stewart? There is a memorial -to Burns whose friend Willie that brewed a peck o' malt lies in the Old -Calton burying ground near by. Hume lies there, too, and Dr. John Brown, -and Stevenson's dead. - - "There on the sunny frontage of a hill, - Hard by the House of Kings, repose the dead, - My dead, the ready and the strong of word. - Their works, the salt-encrusted, still survive; - The sea bombards their founded towers; the night - Thrills pierced with their strong lamps. The artificers - One after one, here in this grated cell, - Where the rain erases and the dust consumes, - Fell upon lasting silence." - -There is a monument to Lord Nelson. And looking as though he belonged -there is a bronze figure of Abraham Lincoln. - -All this lies about, with casual sheep cropping the grass. - -But, there lies the city. And there lies the country. - -To the south rises Arthur's Seat, the lion. The much castellated jail, -is beneath you, another absurd elaborate building, a castle after -castle-days. Farther a-city lies Holyrood, with the ruined abbey, the -Queen Mary wing, and the scarlet patch of the sentinel moving to and fro -and guarding all this vanished greatness. Nothing more appeals than this -sentinel-watch of the ghosts of the past. - -Turn but a little and the Old Town lies before you, the castle splendid, -still the guardian, the long ridge of the High Street with its jagged -buildings that from here rise almost to the purple edge of the hilly -Pentland background, with the spire of the Tolbooth and the crown of St. -Giles breaking against the sky. And down at the foot of the vantage Hill -stretches Princes Street with the Scott monument rising athwart the haze -of city and sky. - -From the north edge of Calton there is a more empty panorama, but still -significant. Now it is bound in with tenements high and thick, but in -the golden days it was a steep hillside leading down to a jousting -ground. Tradition has it that Bothwell launched his horse down its -almost-precipice, and so entered the tilting ground, while ladies' -bright eyes rained influence and gave the prize; but most glowing were -the eyes of Mary. - -Beyond, the suburbs fill in the two miles that stretch to Leith, and to -the Firth, glittering out to the far sea. - -At night, if you have no fear of hobgoblins or of hooligans, Calton Hill -is an experience. It is a still place, the silence the greater because -the city lies so near, and looks so busy with its twinkling lights. A -gulf of gloom lies between. The night is velvet black, a drop curtain -against which is thrown the star-pricked map of the city. One can well -believe how the young Stevenson, in those romantic days when he carried -a lantern under his jacket, used to climb this hill venturesomely, and -with the dog in "Chanticler," exclaim, "I shall never forget the first -night I lapped up the stars." It is something to lap stars from the -black pool which is Edinburgh by night. - -If you have, happily, lived in a high city, Boston, Seattle, Duluth, -Denver, St. Paul, San Francisco, with water and land combined, you, too, -have lingered upon a heaven-kissed hill on such a night as this, and -Edinburgh seems native. - -Scott, of course, must have known Calton Hill, although Salisbury Crags -under Arthur's Seat, with its more feasible promenade, better appealed -to him when he was writing the "Waverleys." There is an American who has -written of the Hill, a young inland American whom the gods loved to an -early death. I remember hearing Arthur Upson talk of days and nights on -the Calton, and his sonnet catches the note-- - - "High and alone I stood on Calton Hill - Above the scene that was so dear to him - Whose exile dreams of it made exile dim. - October wooed the folded valleys till - In mist they blurred, even as our eye upfill - Under a too-sweet memory; spires did swim, - And gables, rust-red, on the gray sea's brim-- - But on these heights the air was soft and still, - Yet, not all still; an alien breeze will turn - Here, as from bournes in aromatic seas, - As round old shrines a new-freed soul might yearn - With incense of rich earthly reveries. - Vanish the isles: Mist, exile, searching pain, - But the brave soul is freed, is home again." - - - - -CHAPTER V - -THE KINGDOM OF FIFE - - -From Edinburgh as I looked out on the Forth from every vantage point, I -was conscious of the hills of Fife ever backing in the prospect. And I -kept repeating to myself the old rhyme of the witches-- - - "The Thane of Fife had a wife, - Ah, where is she now!" - -I determined to set sail and find not the wife, but the kingdom. - -It is a continuing splendour, this name--the Kingdom of Fife. Than the -thing nothing could be less royal, more democratic. For Fifeshire is -given over to farm lands and coal fields and treeless stretches, and the -fringe of Fife is made up of fishing villages "a hodden gray plaid wi' a -gowden fringe," said a King Jamie. It lies there, separate from -Scotland, although very Scottish, between the firths of the Forth and -the Tay, with the Ochil hills a barrier on the landside. The separating -firths are now connected with Scotland by great bridges, over which the -trains pass with reluctance. And the wind is always blowing in Fife, a -cold, stern, relentless, Calvinistic wind, off the North Sea. Not by -every wind of doctrine but by a disciplining Calvinistic wind is this -Kingdom swept into conformity. - -There is no end of castles and of historic memories lying like pebbles -upon the seashore of the Firth. Pick up any sea shell--I do not remember -seeing any, so combed have these beaches been from the memory of -man--and it will whisper a tale in your ear. - -But there is for me but one pilgrimage to be made in Fifeshire, to -Kirkcaldy; to the place, not of Ravenscraig Castle, nor because Adam -Smith and political economy were here born twins, nor because Carlyle -taught here for two years, nor because Edward Irving preached here; -their dwellings and schools and graves can be seen. But because Marjorie -Fleming was born here, passed to and fro, from Granton to Burntisland, -in those brief beautiful nine years that were granted to her, and to us, -and lies buried in the old kirkyard of Abbotshall. - -Perhaps you do not know Marjorie. She was the friend, the intimate -friend of Sir Walter Scott. And I can but think how large and void the -world was a century ago, in that Charles Lamb was living in London when -Marjorie was living in Kirkcaldy, and was dreaming of his "Dream -Children," when he might have known this most precious child, fit to be -the friend of Lamb as she was of Sir Walter. - -Other men who have loved her with a tenderness which can belong but to -the living child, immortally living, are Dr. John Brown who wrote the -wonder book about her fifty years ago, through which most of us have -claimed Marjorie as our own, and Mark Twain, who only a month before he -died--and joined her--wrote as tenderly and whimsically of her as he -ever wrote of any child or any maid. Among such august company we almost -hesitate to enter, but surely at this distance of time we may lay our -love beside that of the great men who found Pet Marjorie one of the most -precious human treasures the world has ever held. - -She was but a little girl, and only nine years all told, when the last -day came to her a hundred and more years ago, December 19, 1811. The -first six years she lived in Kirkcaldy, "my native town which though -dirty is clene in the country," Marjorie wrote this from Edinburgh a -little patronizingly, and Marjorie was never strong on spelling. The -next three years she lived with her aunt in the Scottish capital, where -she wrote those journals and letters which have kept her memory warm to -this day. In July of 1811 she returned to the town by the North Sea, and -in December she was gone. - -In the morning of the day on which I made my pilgrimage I went up to the -Parliament buildings in the Old Town, looked them about, saw the lawyers -pacing to and fro, as Stevenson had paced, but not for long--the -absurdity of it!--and then down the hill in the shadow of three men. - -"One November afternoon in 1810"--(the year in which the "Lady of the -Lake" was published) "three men, evidently lawyers, might have been seen -escaping like school boys from the Parliament House, and speeding arm in -arm down Bank Street and the Mound, in the teeth of a surly blast of -sleet." They were Lord Erskine, William Clerk--and the third we all -know; what service of romance has he not performed for us! As the snow -blattered in his face he muttered, "how it raves and drifts! On-ding o' -snaw--aye, that's the word, on-ding." And so he approached his own door, -Castle Street, No. 39. There, over the door, looking forth on the world, -is his face to-day, looking up Young Street. - -Then, as he grew restless and would awa, I followed him through Young -Street up to No. 1, North Charlotte Street. It is a substantial -building, still of dignified and fair estate; neighbourhoods are not -transformed in a Scots century as they are in America. But it carries no -tablet to tell the world that here Marjorie lived. It was here that at -the age of six she wrote her first letter to Isa Keith. It was here that -Marjorie saw "regency bonnets" and with eyes of envy; as indeed she -envied and desired with the passionate depths of her nature all lovely -and strange things. Here she read the Newgate calendar, and found it a -fascinating affair--Marjorie less than nine! And here that Isabel Keith, -her adored cousin, would not permit the little bookworm to read much of -lovers or to talk of them. Marjorie says very gravely, "a great many -authors have expressed themselves too sentimentally," but Isa was never -able quite to cure Marjorie of her interest in love. - -That evening Sir Walter carried her, through the "on-ding o' snaw," in a -shepherd's plaid, over to Castle Street. I walked through the narrow -stone-lined thoroughfare on a hot July morning--and I could feel the -cold and snow of that winter a century back, and see the strong, lame, -great man, carrying the wee wifie in the neuk of his plaid, to the warm -firelight of his castle. Marjorie and he would romp there the evening -long. She would hear him say his lessons, "Ziccoty, diccoty, dock," or -"Wonery, twoery, tickery, seven," while Marjorie "grew quite bitter in -her displeasure at his ill behaviour and stupidness." - -Then they would read ballads together; and then "he would take her on -his knee, and make her repeat Constance's speeches in King John till he -swayed to and fro sobbing his fill. Fancy the gifted little creature, -like one possessed, repeating-- - - "'For I am sick, and capable of fears, - Oppressed with wrongs, and therefore full of fears; - A widow, husbandless, subject to fears; - A woman, naturally born to fears.'" - -I walked out through what used to be fields, and is now much suburban -dwelling, toward Braehead.--"I am going to-morrow to a delightful place, -Braehead by name, where there is ducks, cocks, bubblyjocks, 2 dogs, 2 -cats and swine which is delightful"--to Ravelston--"I am at Ravelston -enjoying nature's fresh air. The birds are singing sweetly, the calf -doth frisk and nature shows her glorious face." - -Ravelston is still a place of delight, with its great cliffs breaking -the surface of the park and a deep-lying lake with dark woodlands. I -wish Marjorie might have known the ballad by Sydney Dobell; it has the -magic quality she would have felt. - - "Ravelston, Ravelston, - The merry path that leads - Down the golden morning hill, - And through the silver meads; - - "She sang her song, she kept her kine, - She sat beneath the thorn, - When Andrew Keith of Ravelston - Rode thro' the Monday morn. - - "Year after year, where Andrew came, - Comes evening down the glade, - And still there sits a moonshine ghost - Where sat the sunshine maid. - - "She makes her immemorial moan, - She keeps her shadowy kine; - O Keith of Ravelston - The sorrows of thy line!" - -In the late afternoon I took tram for Leith, changing of course at -Pilrig, because Leith remains haughtily aloof from Edinburgh and -emphasizes it through this break at the boundary. "When we came to -Leith," says Boswell, "I talked perhaps with too boasting an air, how -pretty the Frith of Forth looked; as indeed, after the prospect from -Constantinople, of which I have been told, and that from Naples, which I -have seen, I believe the view of the Frith and its environs from the -Castle-hill of Edinburgh is the finest prospect in Europe, 'Aye,' -replied Dr. Johnson, 'that is the state of the world. Water is the same -everywhere.'" - -And so, down to the pier, stopping on the way to look at a New Haven -fishwife in her picturesque costume, which she has worn ever since the -Danes came over. Yes, and looking for a suitable piece of earth for -Queen Magdalene to kiss, "Scottis eard!" Well, if not here, there is -Scottis eard worthy elsewhere. - -I asked for the ferry to Burnt-is-land. The conductor of the tram -looked, yes, and laughed. Burnt-island, he dared, _dared_ to repeat. And -so, I took ferry from Granton to--Burnt-island. - -It is a long journey across the Firth. Far down the waters rises the -bold rock of the Bass, around which I had sailed a day before, looking -for a landing for some one more ponderous than solan geese or kittie -wake, and not finding it; although I was told that from Canty -bay--excellent Scots name--the innkeeper will row you o'er, and you may -walk where James I was waiting for the boat which should carry him to -safety in France, and getting instead the boat which carried him to -prison in England. Still I like to remember that Henry IV declared in -explanation that he "could speak very good French" himself, if that were -what they were sending Scottish Jamie o'er the water for; Henry who had -years of the Hundred Years' War behind him. - -[Illustration: TANTALLON CASTLE.] - -The rock is rent by a cavern running clean through. It's quite a -terrific place, and seven acres of benty grass must have seemed small -refuge for the Covenanters who were lodged here numerously in Killing -Time. - -On the mainshore, the Lothian, rises Tantallon Castle, where Marmion -dared to beard Angus Bell-the-Cat. It still looks pretty tremendous, and -still stands, like the Coliseum. "Ding doon Tantallon? Build a brig to -the Bass!" runs the proud proverb. - -But we are on our way across the Firth. There was a certain magic about -it on my day of pilgrimage. The north shore lay sparkling in the late -afternoon sun, blue shimmering land against a clear blue sky, the thin -rim of the continent playing here and there with opalescent colour where -man had builded village or castle, or where man had not destroyed the -ancient green. The south shore lay vague and gray, and growing darker, -against the falling afternoon, while the Lammermuirs stood up in paler -dusk in the background, and the sun blazed behind them. And all about -the Firth glittered like an inland lake, a Great Lake. I thought of how -the Roman galleys and Norse fleets had come this way, and looked and -departed. And how kings had brought their armies here, and looked, -perhaps besieged, and departed. And how time and time and time again, -French fleets had sailed in here to help their continuing ally, -Scotland. And how kings had sailed out from here to France, and how -Scots knights had sailed out from here for France, the Crusades, -anywhere that promised adventure. And here Saxon Margaret had sailed in -to be Scotland's queen. And here Scottish Mary had sailed in to be -Scotland's queen, and not to be. Far out in the offing the sun shone -golden upon the brown sails of a single fishing boat, tacking to catch a -homing wind, a ghost where once had sailed the war and merchant fleets -of nations. - -At Burntisland I did not pause to visit Rossend Castle where Mary is -supposed to have had her affair with Chastelard; certainly not. Nor at -Kinghorn, where Alexander III, within a few months after he had married -in haunted Kelso, and within a few hours perhaps after he had drunk the -blude red wine in Dunfermline, came galloping by this way, the horse -stumbled, the king fell, and - - "Quhen Alysandyr oure King was dede - That Scotland led in luve and le ... - Succoure Scotland and remede - That stands in perplexite." - - -_Kirkcaldy_ - -If Kirkcaldy was a "lang toun" in the olden days, it is longer to-day, -stretching from Linktown to Dysart, and broadening inland to Gallatown, -where they make the famous Wemyss pottery. To-day Kirkcaldy makes -linoleum and jute and engineering works, and it is the center of a -string of fishing villages, a "metropolitan borough system," hundreds of -boats fishing the North Sea with KY marked as their home port, when -their sailor men make home in any of these picturesque and smelling -villages, St. Monan, Pittenweem, Cellardyke, Crail where Mary of -Lorraine landed, Largo where Sir Andrew Wood the admiral lived, and -where Alexander Selkirk lived what time he did not live as Crusoe in -Juan Fernandez, and Anstruther-- - - "Wha wad na be in love - Wi' bonny Maggie Lauder, - A piper met her gaen to Fife - And speired what wast they ca'd her.... - I've lived in Fife - Baith maid and wife - These ten years and a quarter, - Gin ye should come to Anster Fair - Speir ye for Maggie Lauder." - -There is also some castellated splendour, Ravenscraig, and Wemyss on the -site of the castle of MacDuff, then of Fife, this Wemyss being the -ill-fated place where Mary first met Darnley. - -Abbotshall kirkyard is at the right of the railway station as the train -pulls in to Kirkcaldy. In his book of Scotch pilgrimages when William -Winter was on his way to St. Andrews, past Kirkcaldy, he wrote "gazing -as I pass at its quaint church among the graves." I suppose he did not -know what grave. - -But first I would find where she had lived. Kirkcaldy is close set -against the sea. Here on winding High Street, I found the house in which -she had lived, standing much as it did no doubt a hundred years ago, -except for a new coat of tan on the stone. From those upper windows -Marjorie looked out on the coach going away toward Edinburgh. The -ground floor is occupied by a book store, where I could buy no book -about Marjorie. Under a window you enter the archway and find yourself -in a little green-grassed court, which is all that is left of Marjorie's -garden. The house proper fronted the garden in that comfortable -excluding way which British people still prefer for their places of -habitation. It is still occupied as a dwelling, and the nursery still -looks as it did in Marjorie's day, and the drawing-room, where she wrote -that letter to Isa Keith--"I now sit down on my botom to answer all your -kind and beloved letters." The door of the nursery was open. I -remembered those last days, when lying ill, her mother asked Marjorie if -there was anything she wished. "Oh, yes, if you would just leave the -room door open a wee bit, and play 'The Land o' the Leal,' and I will -lie still and think and enjoy myself." - - "I'm wearin' awa', Jean, - Like snaw wreaths in thaw, Jean, - I'm wearin' awa', - To the Land o' the Leal." - -The kirkyard lies on the outskirts of the town. It was a beautiful place -as the Scotch sun sank behind the Fife hills and the Firth. The -organist was playing and the music drifted out through the narrow -lancet windows when I found the little white cross marked "Pet -Marjorie," and the old gray tombstone with its simple token, "M. F. -1811." - -For a hundred years then she has been lying there. But Marjorie has -become one of the immortal dream children of the world. I laid my fresh -flowers beside another's which had withered, and went my ways into the -dusk. - - -_St. Andrews_ - -Past Kirkcaldy the road leaves the sea and runs northward through -meadows between fields which have the look of centuries-old cultivation, -at peace like the fields and villages of the English Midland, to St. -Andrews. - - "St. Andrews by the Northern Sea, - A haunted town it is to me! - A little city, worn and gray, - The gray North Ocean girds it round; - And o'er the rocks, and up the bay, - The long sea-rollers surge and sound; - And still the thin and biting spray - Drives down the melancholy street, - And still endure, and still decay, - Towers that the salt winds vainly beat. - Ghost-like and shadowy they stand - Dim mirrored in the wet sea-sands. - - "St. Leonard's Chapel, long ago - We loitered idly where the tall - Fresh-budded mountain ashes blow - Within thy desecrated wall; - The tough roots rent the tombs below, - And April birds sang clamorous, - We did not dream, we could not know - How hardly Fate would deal with us! - - "O broken minster, looking forth - Beyond the bay, above the town, - O winter of the kindly North, - O college of the scarlet gown!" - -Small wonder St. Andrews is the ecclesiastical capital of Scotland, and -smaller wonder, remembering the Calvinistic wind, that here happened the -brunt of the fight between the old faith and the new. - -It is a clean and seemly town, with much historic memory and much -present day dignity, a small gray town, "the essence of all the -antiquity of Scotland in good clean condition," said Carlyle. Its -ancient sights the cathedral and the castle; its living sight the -university and the golf links. - -The town stands on a promontory, three long streets converging on the -cathedral and castle lying in ruins. The cathedral, a hundred years in -the building, and very splendid in its wealth of detail, its vastness -of space like that of York or Amiens, was dedicated in the days of The -Bruce, with the king present to endow it with a hundred marks "for the -mighty victory of the Scots at Bannockburn, by St. Andrew's, the -guardian of the realm." For three hundred years its wax tapers lighted -the old rites according to which The Bruce worshiped; he was not -covenanted. Then the torch of the reformation was applied to it, the -torch of the flaming tongue of John Knox. - -To-day there are three towers left of the five--Dr. Johnson hoped that -one which looked unstable on the day of his visit, would "fall on some -of the posterity of John Knox; and no great matter!" There are massive -walls. There is no roof between us and the sky, which, after all, does -shelter the true faith, and if one misses the chanting of the monks -echoing through these arches, under this roofless space, there is the -moan of the sea, sobbing at the foot of the crag, the sea which is of no -faith and never keeps faith. And if one misses the scarlet robes of -Cardinal Beaton as he swept through these aisles in splendid procession -with all the gorgeous trappings of his retinue, there are mosses and -wild flowers to give glows of colour--one must content himself. Those -were evil days, whatever the faith; there was not much division in -matters of conduct; there may have been in matters of morals. - -[Illustration: ST. ANDREWS CASTLE.] - -The castle stands stalwart on the rock promontory washed by the ocean, -and the ocean breaks angrily at its base like a creature robbed over -long of its prey. It is not the castle in which the Cardinal lived, but -it was built soon after, and wrecked so thoroughly, and looks so very -ancient, that one would fain believe; and the guide will tell, unless -you prevent him, that it was at these windows that the Cardinal sat at -his ease and witnessed the entertainment of the auto da fe of the -non-conformist, George Wishart, burned alive on March 28, 1542; about -the time Philip the Second was burning heretics in the Old Plaza at -Madrid, and a little before Queen Mary spouse to Philip, was burning -them in England. And it was only two months later, May 29, when workmen -were strengthening the castle at the orders of the Cardinal against this -very thing that happened, that the reformers made their way in, killed -the Cardinal, and hung him "by the tane arm and the tane foot," from the -very balcony where he had sat to enjoy Wishart's burning. A very -barbarous time. As Wishart had lain in the Bottle Dungeon months before -his burning, so Beaton lay in the dungeon in salt, seven months before -his burial. - -John Knox joined the reformers, holding the town until it was taken by -the French fleet--"defended their castle against Scotland, France, and -Ireland all three"--surrendering to Strozzi, Prior of Capua, a Knight of -Rhodes; so was the great world made small in those days by errant -knights and captains and hired mercenaries. The French captain entered, -"and spoiled the castle very rigorously," lest it should be "a -receptacle for rebels." All this in the time of the Regency of Mary of -Lorraine. - -Knox was taken and sent to the galleys for a year. Then he returned, and -was frequently in St. Andrews, preaching in the town kirk, founded, -perhaps, by the confessor of Saint Margaret, preaching here some of his -last sermons. "I saw him everie day of his doctrine go hulie and fear," -wrote James Melville, "with a furrning of martriks about his neck, a -staff in the an hand," and lifted up to the pulpit "whar he behovite to -lean at his first entrie; bot or he had done with his sermont, he was so -active and vigorus, that he lyk to ding that pulpit in blads and fly out -of it." The pulpit held. And so did the doctrine of Knox. - -The square tower of St. Regulus, a pre-Norman bit of architecture, -perhaps Culdee, stands southeast of the cathedral. Dr. Johnson was -indignant with Boswell that he missed it. This with the many other -towers of church and college make St. Andrews a towered town. - -There is an air, an atmosphere, in St. Andrews; it is an academic town, -serene, certain of itself, quiet, with wide streets and gray stone -buildings. It is full of dignity, full of repose, as a northern Oxford -combined with a northern Canterbury should be. There is a spell of -ancientry over the gray old walls, but it is unbroken ancientry; if -there is a bar sinister, the present generation has forgotten it. - -And, of course--oh, not of course, but primarily--there is golf. There -is golf everywhere in Scotland. The golf ball and not the thistle is the -symbol of Scotland to-day, and from the Tee at St. Andrews the Golf Ball -has been driven round the world. James VI, careful Scot, recognized golf -as an industry, and granted letters patent in 1618 for the manufacture -of golf balls--the old leather, feather-stuffed sphere--to James -Melville and William Berwick. - -Edinburgh is ringed about with golf courses, public and private. So is -Scotland. The Firth of Forth is continuous with them, from North -Berwick where the fleeting traveler is as certain to see golf balls as -he is to see the Bass, up to St. Andrews. The Links of Leith are the -most historic, for it was on these that Charles I was playing when news -came of the Irish rebellion--and all that it led to. And here, his son, -later James II, played against two English noblemen who had declared -they could beat him, and James, cannily--true Scot!--chose the best -player in Scotland, one Paterson an Edinburgh cobbler--and gave him the -wager, and doubled it, out of which Paterson built for himself Golfer's -_Land_ in the Canongate. The Links of the Forth are not a golf course, -although there may be some who assert that they were once an ancient -course, say, for King Arthur and his Knights. - -Sealand, shoreland, it seems, makes the ideal golf course, the soil -growing with short crisp grass that makes a springy and slippery turf, -and makes a keen game; the inlander, of course, and the American -inlander, may not understand that golf can never quite be golf, -certainly never be the true Scottish rite, unless it is played near the -sea, with the tang of the sea and of golf entering into one's -blood--and, preferably at St. Andrews. - -At St. Andrews golf is a business, a sublimated business; or better, an -education. Degrees are taken in it quite as high and requiring as -thorough a training as at the University. It is to St. Andrews that the -good golfer goes when he dies. And he aspires to go there before. - -Or, rather at St. Andrews golf is a religion. Half the stories told of -golf are, as might be expected of a game which came to its flowering in -Scotland, religious, or irreligious. And one of the best of them is told -in Stewart Dick's book on "The Forth." A Scots minister was playing and -playing rather badly, and expressing himself in words if not in strokes. -(Only those of you who have read "Sentimental Tommy" will understand -that unconsciously I have played on the word "stroke!") The minister -exclaimed bitterly as he emerged from his unholy battle with the -bunker--is Bunker Hill, perhaps a hazard in golf?--"Ah maun gie it up! -ah maun gie it up!" "What!" cried his partner alarmed, "gie up gowf?" -"Naw, naw," returned the minister, "gie up the meenistry." - -Perhaps to amend again, golf at St. Andrews is life. And in their death -they are not divided. The graveyard near the Abbey, with stones hoary -from the sixteenth century, is renowned to-day because it contains the -graves of good golfers, Allan Robertson, old Tom Morris, and young Tom -Morris, the greatest golfer since Paterson, dead at the pathetic age of -24; after that comes a man's best golfing years, that is, for his -pleasure. Young Tom's grave is marked by an elaborate monument with an -inscription that befits a king. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -TO THE NORTH - - -One leaves Edinburgh for the North--the haunted North--as in a royal -progress. The train moves out of the Waverley station, and through the -Gardens, under the very shadow of Castle Rock. - -And it moves through the scant few miles of country, richly cultivated, -suburban fairly, yet there are level wheatlands, and country cottages -and orchards; it is southern, English, these few miles down to the -Forth. - - "The blackbird sang, the skies were clear and clean, - We bowled along a road that curved its spine - Superbly sinuous and serpentine - Thro' silent symphonies of summer green, - Sudden the Forth came on us--sad of mien, - No cloud to colour it, no breeze to line; - A sheet of dark dull glass, without a sign - Of life or death, two beams of sand between, - Water and sky merged blank in mist together, - The Fort loomed spectral, and the Guardship's spars - Traced vague, black shadows on the shimmery glaze: - We felt the dim, strange years, the gray, strange weather, - The still, strange land, unvexed of sun or stars, - Where Lancelot rides clanking thro' the haze." - -To every one comes this sense of strange years and a strange land, even -at Queensferry, even to Henley. - -The inn, where we have all put up in imagination, with Scott, and again -with Stevenson, lies under the bridge, as though it would escape the -quick curious gaze from these iron girders so high above what Scott ever -dreamed or Davy Balfour. And then, the train creeps out over this modern -audacity, this very ugly iron spanning of the river. Fortunately we are -upon it and cannot see its practical, monstrous being, "that monster of -utility," as Lord Rosebery called it. He should know its phrase, since -it is ever present in the view from his Dalmeny Park, lying east of the -Bridge and south of the Forth. - -This is precisely where Queen Margaret was ferried to and fro a thousand -years ago. The monks who had charge of the ferry took from the toll -every fourth and every fortieth penny--a delightful bit of geometric -finance. Who could calculate and who would dispute the calculation, of -fourth and fortieth? - - -_Dunfermline_ - - "The King sits in Dunfermline toun - Drinking the blude-red wine." - -Because of such lines as these I would cross far seas, merely to have -been, if far lonely destructive centuries after, in the very place of -their being. - -For Dunfermline is surely a very kingly name for a king's town, and -"blude-red" wine is of such a difference from mere red, or blood-red -wine. What wonder that Alexander III, of whom it is written, went to his -death over at Kinghorn in such a tragic way! - -But the king who forever sits in Dunfermline is that Malcolm of the -eleventh century who brings hither something more than legend yet -something as thrilling, as "authentic" as legend. Malcolm is the son of -Duncan, in Shakespeare's play, and in history. - - "The son of Duncan - From whom this tyrant holds the due of birth, - Lives in the English court; and is received - Of the most pious Edward with such grace - That the malevolence of fortune nothing - Takes from his high respect." - -Malcolm, after "the deep damnation of his taking off," fled from the red -wrath of Macbeth and into the far prophecy of Banquo, to the court of -Edward the Confessor. There perhaps he met Margaret; or perhaps not, -since she was grand-niece to the Confessor, and Malcolm was a -middle-aged man when this first royal Scottish romance occurs. When he -returned he built himself a castle here on the safe north side of the -Forth; if ever any place were safe in that eleventh century. He waited -here the coming of Margaret, and she came, the first Margaret of -England. - -It was the first year after the Conquest, and Princess Margaret with her -brother and sister were fleeing to her mother's people in Bohemia. They -were wrecked far north in the Firth of Forth--which thereby becomes part -of the legendary coast of Bohemia. She landed at St. Margaret's Hope, -the first bay to the west of North Queensferry. Malcolm saw her from his -high tower--and they were married--and they lived happily ever after, -and richly for a quarter of a century; and they live immortally now. - -Their history is certain, but it reads like a romance. It may be read, -very exquisitely set forth, in "The Tides of Spring," a one-act drama -by Arthur Upson, the young American poet whose sonnet on Calton Hill I -have just quoted; a poet who went to his death so tragically and so -beautifully in Lake Bemidji in Minnesota, a few years ago. - -The story in the play, of Malcolm and Margaret, is all apple blossoms -and spring tides; it is very lovely. Margaret has met Malcolm before, -and destiny brings her to Scotland and to the king. It is a beautiful -beginning to a long enduring love story that through all the reality of -history shows a tender devotion from this stern northern king to the -saintly queen from the Saxon South. - -They safeguarded themselves and their royal flock in Edinburgh, but they -lived in Dunfermline. Margaret knew a richer and a more religious life -than Malcolm, and she it was who laid the foundations of the kingdom, in -court and church. "Whatever she refused, he refused also; whatever -pleased her, he also loved, for the love of her," says her confessor. -English Margaret, unlike the later English Margaret of Alexander III, -did not find the North "a sad and solitary place"; and unlike the -English Margaret of James IV she was saintly, a white pearl in this wild -red time. - -Malcolm and Margaret became the father and mother of a royal brood, -four kings of Scotland, and of Queen Matilda of England--surely Banquo -saw clearly on that terrible night; his prophecy began with a royal -rush. - -But who would not live a lovely and pleasant life in this well-placed -royal burg, serene upon her hill? Rich green fields spread down to the -Forth, the red network of the bridge lifts itself into view, far to the -left sweeps the Firth out to North Berwick Law and the Bass, and -Edinburgh swims in the haze against the leonine mountain that is ever -her guard. - -The Abbey gives the town its special dignity. There is nothing left of -the church built by Queen Margaret--where she robbed the box of the -money the king had just given at mass if she found the poor requiring -more immediate help. But this ancient nave built by Margaret's son David -is so very ancient that one could well spare the accurate historic -knowledge that it is a generation too late for emotion. There are -ponderous round pillars that could have sustained all the history we -require of them, high casements, a bare triforium, altogether a Davidic -place, a simplicity, a truth about it, that we would not dispute. - -The new church was built a century ago over the old, and the ancient -nave is like an aisle in the new. Certain details, like the little -Norman doorway, once walled-up in the time of Knox, reward us with their -preserved beauty. - -The tombs of Malcolm and Margaret are without the wall. Malcolm perhaps -is there; they carried bodies far in those days of material -resurrection, and would have brought Malcolm from Northumberland. But -Margaret, canonized next century, was too precious to remain in Ultima -Thule, so Spain carried her away--and who knows where she rests? - -But within, before the high altar--or shall we say since this is a -reformed place, before the pulpit?--rests the body of The Bruce. It is -no doubt The Bruce. For Dunfermline was forgotten in rebellious times, -and the tombs were undisturbed. Even in the North transept there rest -the bones of eleven kings earlier than The Bruce. - -Yes, it is very certain The Bruce, wrapped in gold cloth in the -thirteenth century, his heart only missing and lying at Melrose. Scott -who was everywhere and investigating everything saw the tomb opened and -pronounced--King Robert Bruce. One could wish the great letters about -the modern tower looking like an electric sign, were "reformed." But -here within the quiet, to stand at the very spot where is the dust of -so mighty a man, mighty in valour, mighty in sovereignty--I find it a -more substantial emotion than I have felt in the Invalides. - -Ancientry preserves its unbroken descent outside the church. The mother -of Wallace is buried here, and the thorn he planted to mark her grave -still flourishes, to the ninth century after. - -The people who sit in Dunfermline town have not too much concern for -King Robert and King Alexander. Nor do they do much sitting, these busy -industrious Dunfermliners. They are living their own lives, and making -for themselves profit through the generosity of a later fellow citizen. - -Dunfermline is a center of great coal fields, and center of the Scotch -linen making. So the town is modern, looks modern, and the people move -briskly. If they know you are a tourist on ancient errand bent, they -look curiously. You come from so far to recapture ancient life, when you -might have so much modern life in your own country. - -They know what America means. For Andrew Carnegie is their fellow -citizen, or would be had he not become an American. Seventy years ago he -was born in a cottage toward which the Dunfermline folk look with the -attention we show the Abbey. And Carnegie has not only given a library -to Dunfermline--yes, a library--Malcolm could not read Margaret's books, -but he had them richly bound and bejeweled and kissed them in reverence -of her. But the Laird has given a technical school, and the Pittencrieff -Glen, which is a lovely pleasure ground with the scant stones of -Malcolm's palace above, and a trust of two million and a half dollars, -which the wise town corporation is busy utilizing for the advancement of -Dunfermline town. - - - - -_Loch Leven_ - - -And on to Loch Leven. I cannot think that any one can come upon this -castle without emotion. Or he should never come to Scotland. - -It is a famous fishing lake, a peculiar kind of trout are abundant, -twenty-five thousand taken from it each year; rather I have given the -round numbers, but an exact toll of the fish taken is required by law, -and for the past year it was, with Scottish accuracy, something more or -something less than twenty-five thousand. The lake is controlled -altogether by an anglers association. No boat can row on it, no -fisherman can cast his line, but by permission. - -There is a small shop in Edinburgh where tickets and tackle can be -taken, and much advice from the canny Scot who keeps the shop, and who -would make your fishing expedition a success. "I don't know what your -scruples are," he ventured, "but if ye want the Loch Leven boatmen to be -satisfied, I'd advise ye to take wi' a bit o' Scotch. A wee bit drappie -goes a long wa." - -"Just a wee deoch and doris!" - -We remembered Harry Lauder, and wondered if we could say "It's a braw -bricht moon licht nicht." Or would those redoutable boatmen ken that we -were but pretending to Scotch and even suspect our "Scotch"? - -They did not. - -The Green hotel is an excellent place to stay, kept by a Scotchman who -knows that in America every one knows every one else. We slept in -feather beds, and we inspected the collection of "stanes," one of the -best I have ever seen in Scotland, a great variety, some of them natural -boulders, some wood with iron weights--someday I must brave the rigours -of a Scotch winter and see them curl on Duddingston or on Leven. And I -should like to see Bob Dunbar of St. Paul, champion curler of America, -measure his skill against the champion of Scotland. - -And, of course, there was talk with the Scot host. "So ye're American. -Well, maybe ye ken a mon that lives in Minn'apolis. He's twa sisters -live here; and he's built a hoose for them." It happened that we did ken -of this man, who came from Kinross to Minneapolis with only his Scotch -canniness, and has built the Donaldson business into one of the great -department stores of America. - -And next day, after we had slept on feather beds, we had our fishing in -Loch Leven, with thousands of wild swan disputing our possession; a big -boat, with big oars, sweeps, one man to each oar, one a loquacious -fellow with no dialect (he might as well have been English), and the -other taciturn with a dialect thick as mud or as Lauder's. And we caught -two of the twenty-five thousand odd which were credited to that year. - -As the train came alongside Loch Leven on its way to Kinross station, -suddenly I felt Mary as I never have realized her, before or since. -There across the lake lay St. Serf's isle, and there rose the keep of -the old castle. And over that water, as plainly--more plainly, than the -fishing boats that lay at their ease--I saw her take boat on a still -evening, May 2, 1568, at half past seven o'clock from prison--to -liberty--to prison! - -I was not mistaken. She who was with me saw it, as distinctly, as -vividly. Perhaps it was that all our lives this had been to us one of -the great adventuring moments--for which we would exchange any moment of -our lives. We were idolaters always, Mariolaters. And now we know that -places are haunted, and that centuries are of no account; they will give -up their ghosts to those who would live in them. - - "Put off, put off, and row with speed, - For now is the time and the hour of need, - To oars, to oars, and trim the bark, - Nor Scotland's queen be a warder's mark; - Yon light that plays 'round the castle moat, - Is only the warder's random shot; - Put off, put off, and row with speed, - For now is the time and the hour of need. - - "Those pond'rous keys shall the kelpies keep, - And lodge in their caverns, so dark and deep, - Nor shall Loch Leven's tower and hall - Hold thee, our lovely lady, in thrall; - Or be the haunts of traitors sold, - While Scotland has hands and hearts so bold. - Then onward, steersman, row with speed, - For now is the time and the hour of need. - - "Hark! the alarum bell has rung, - The warder's voice has treason sung, - The echoes to the falconets roar, - Chime sweetly to the dashing shore; - Let tower, hall, and battlement gleam, - We steer by the light of the taper's gleam, - For Scotland and Mary on with speed, - Now, now, is the time and the hour of need!" - -Because of that experience, because of the feeling I have for Queen -Mary, I have never landed upon St. Serf's island. It has happened, quite -without my making intentional pilgrimage, that I have been in many -places where Queen Mary has been; and willingly I have made my -accidental pilgrimages of loyalty. I have stood in the turret at Roscoff -where she landed when only five, hurried from Scotland that she might -escape sinister England; in the chapel in Notre Dame where she was -married to the Dauphin; in the château at Orleans where she lived with -him much of that brief happy French life she loved so dearly; in the two -small garret chambers where she lodged in Coventry; in Hardwick Hall, -where Bess of Hardwick was her stern jailer; at Fotheringay where -nothing remains of that ensanguined block but a low heap of stones which -the grass covers; in Peterborough where she found her first resting -place; in Westminster her last final resting place; and in many and many -a haunted place of this Scottish land. - -And just before starting north I made a little journey to Linlithgow -which lies twenty miles west of Edinburgh. The palace overlooks a quiet -blue loch, a blue smiling bit of water, on which much royalty has looked -forth, and on which the eyes of Mary first looked. There, in the -unroofed palace of Linlithgow, in the "drawing-room," in December, 1542, -was born that queen who ever since has divided the world. - - "Of all the palaces so fair - Built for the royal dwelling, - In Scotland far beyond compare - Linlithgow is excelling. - And in the park in jovial June - How sweet the merry linnet's tune, - How blithe the blackbird's lay." - -It was the dower-house of Scottish queens, and hither James V brought -Mary of Lorraine after he had married her at St. Andrews. (I wondered if -there was any haunting memory of Margaret of Denmark who sat here sewing -when the nobles raged through the palace seeking the life of James III. -Or of Margaret of England as she sat here waiting for James IV to return -from Flodden.) - -[Illustration: DRAWING-ROOM, LINLITHGOW PALACE, WHERE QUEEN MARY WAS -BORN.] - -Of the regency of Mary of Lorraine, when James V died and Mary was a -baby, Knox spluttered that it was "as semlye a sight (yf men had eis) -as to putt a sadill upoun the back of ane unrowly kow." Knox did not -pick his language with any nicety when he said his say of women and the -monstrous regiments of them. And to his Puritan soul there could come no -approval of the love affairs of Mary of Lorraine, such as that one sung -by the Master of Erskine, who was slain at Pinkiecleuch-- - - "I go, and wait not quhair, - I wander heir and thair, - I weip and sichis rycht sair - With panis smart; - Now must I pass away, away, - In wilderness and lanesome way, - Alace! this woeful day - We suld departe." - -And now there is neither Margaret nor Mary, neither regent nor reformer, -palace of neither Linlithgow nor Leven. How the destructions of man have -thrown palaces and doctrines open to the winds of heaven. And how -purifying this destruction. And what precious things have passed with -them, what tears of women have been shed, and how are the mouths of men -become dust. - -Loch Leven has one lovely gracious memory of Mary in the days before -everything was lost. She was lodging here, and had sent for Knox to come -from Edinburgh. - -"She travailed with him earnestly for two hours before her supper, that -he would protect the Catholic clergy from persecution." Knox slept in -the castle, but "before the sun," as he records, he was awakened by the -sound of horns and of boats putting off to the mainland. For the queen -would go a-hawking. - -Presently Knox was roused. The queen would have him join her "be-west -Kinross," to continue the conversation. - -The reformer did not rise as early as the queen--the serenity of that -righteous conscience! He rose reluctantly at her summons. His reforming -eyes, no doubt, looked with displeasure on the exquisite beauties of the -unreformed morning, the mists lying soft on the Lomonds, day just -emerging from night. - -So he joined her, and they rode together, she on her horse, he on his -hackney. - -And the morning came on, and the day was a glory. - -Mary warned Knox that a certain Bishop sought to use him, and Knox -afterward acknowledged the value of her warning. She asked him to settle -a quarrel between Argyle and his wife, her half sister, as Knox had done -before. And often no doubt she glanced at her hawk hanging in the high -Scottish sky. - -And finally she declared--"as touching our reasoning of yesternight, I -promise to do as ye required. I shall summon the offenders and ye shall -know that I shall minister justice." - -And the reformer, softened by the morning, and by Mary's eyes--"I am -assured then that ye shall please God and enjoy rest and prosperity -within your realm." - -And Knox rode off. And Mary rode hawking. - -The time was not yet come when Mary should say--"Yon man gar me greet -and grat never tear himself. I will see if I can gar him greet." - -Or, for Knox to pray--"Oh, Lord, if thy pleasure be, purge the heart of -the Queen's Majestie from the venom of idolatry, and deliver her from -the bondage and the thralldom of Satan." - - -_Perth_ - -Perth may be the Fair City, but it is scarce fair among cities, and is -chiefly regarded even by itself as a point of departure, the Gate of the -Highlands. The railway platform is at least a third of a mile long, and -very bewildering to the unsuspecting visitor who thought he was merely -coming to the ancient Celtic capital. - -For, very far backward, this was the chief city of the kingdom, before -Scotland had spread down to the Forth, and down to the Border. Even so -recently (?) as the time of James the First it was held the fairest city -in the kingdom. But the assassination of that monarch must have led the -Jameses to seek a safer city in which to be fair. - -There is a touch of antiquity about the town. One is shown the house of -the Fair Maid; in truth that being the objective of the casual traveler -signs in the street point the way. It may or may not be. But we agreed -to let Scott decide these things and he, no doubt, chose this house. -Curfew Street that runs by, looking like a vennel--vennel? I am -certain--was inhabited rather by lively boys, and no fair head looked -out from the high window that would have furnished an excellent framing -for the fair face of Catherine Glover. - -The North Inch I found to be not an island in the Tay, but a meadow, -where every possible out-door activity takes place among the descendants -of Clans Chattan and Quhele--there is race-course, golf links, cricket -field, football, grazing, washing. I trust the clans are somewhat -evener now in numbers, although there were left but one Chattan to level -the Quheles. Coming from the Chattan tribe I must hope the centuries -since that strifeful day have brought reëxpansion to the Chattans. - -Farther up the Inch, onto the Whin, the eye looks across to Scone. The -foot does not cross, for there is nothing left of the old Abbey, not -even of the old palace where Charles II, last king crowned in Scotland, -suffered coronation--and was instructed in the ways of well doing -according to the Covenant. Even the stone of destiny was gone then, -brought from Dunstaffnage, and taken to Westminster. - -There is nothing, or only stones, left of the Blackfriar's Monastery in -which James, the poet-king, suffered death. Surely he was born too soon. -As last instead of first of the Jameses, what might he not have done in -the ways of intelligence and beauty, as England's king as well as -Scotland's? Very beautifully runs his picture of Lady Joanna Beaufort, -seen from a window in Windsor-- - - "The fairest and the freshest flower, - That ever I saw before that hour, - The which o' the sudden made to start - The blood of my body to my heart ... - Ah, sweet, are ye a worldly creature, - Or heavenly thing in form of nature?" - -He came back from his enforced habitation in England accompanied by Lady -Joanna as Queen, and determined "if God gives me but a dog's life, I -will make the key keep the castle and the brachen bush the cow." It was -a dog's death the gods gave. The nobles, the Grahams, would not keep the -castle. So in Blackfriars the king was "mercilessly dirked to death," -notwithstanding that Catherine Douglass--the Douglasses were with James -then--made a bar across the door with her arm where the iron had been -sinisterly removed. A dark scene, with "the fairest flower" looking on. - -So, I think it not so ill, even though time delayed over a hundred -years, that John Knox (May, 1559) should have preached such an -incendiary sermon that in three days there was nothing left of Black or -Gray friary but the broken stones. - -Nor is there anything left of Gowrie house, where James VI was almost -entrapped and almost slain--"I am murdered--treason--treason"; the jail -stands on its site. Huntington Tower still stands down the Tay; and -there also James very nearly came to his death, at the plotting of the -son of that Ruthven who killed Rizzio and forced Mary to abdicate. - -[Illustration: HUNTINGTON TOWER.] - -Kinnoul Hill overlooks the town, and furnishes a very fair view of the -Fair City. No doubt it was from this height that the Roman looked -down upon the Tay-- - - "Behold the Tiber! the vain Roman cried, - Viewing the ample Tay from Baiglie's side; - But where's the Scot that would the vaunt repay, - And hail the puny Tiber for the Tay?" - -It is more wonderful to-day to know that salmon weighing seventy pounds -are sometimes taken from this Tay. The river leads down through the rich -Carse of Gowrie, toward Dundee and marmalade. Thither we shall not go; -but it shall come to us. - -Ruskin spent his childhood in Perth and did not like it. But Ruskin -liked so little in the world, except--"that Scottish sheaves are more -golden than are bound in other lands, and that no harvests elsewhere -visible to human eye are so like the 'corn of heaven,' as those of -Strath Tay and Strath Earn." That is the way for to admire, for to see; -all, or nothing was Ruskin's way. - -Ruskin married in Perth, one of its fairest maids, who lived on the -slope of Kinnoul Hill; and then, unmarrying, the fair lady, looking very -fair in the painted pictures, married a painter who once was very much -about Perth. - -Perth is also the "Muirton" of "The Bonnie Brier Bush." So some have -found these environs bonny. - -In truth it is a lovely surrounding country. And have you not from -childhood, if you read "Macbeth" as early as did Justice Charles E. -Hughes, thought Birnam and Dunsinane the loveliest names in the world? -Six miles up the Tay through bonny country, stands Dunsinnan Hill; not -so lovely as our Dunsinane; once it was Dunscenanyse! But Shakespeare -always gave words their magic retouching. And once there stood here the -castle of Dunsinane where a certain Lady walked in her sleep, and then -slept. And below, you see Birnam wood-- - - "Till great Birnam wood - Do come to Dunsinane." - -To see that wood wave in the wind is fairly eerie! - -Dunkeld is less of a city, more of a memory, exquisite in its beauty, -lodged in a close fold of the Highlands. And you reach it through the -station, cis-Tay, called Birnam! - -It is a quiet peaceful place, more like a now quiet Border town. Hither -to this cathedral, the precious remains of Saint Columba were brought by -the MacAlpine. So I suppose they still rest here, that wandering dust, -that missionary zeal. Also, inharmony, here rest (?) the remains of the -Wolf of Badenoch, wicked son of Robert II, and--I am certain the pun has -been ventured before--bad enough. Gavin Douglass of the Vergilian -measure was bishop here, and Mrs. Oliphant has written stories round -about. - - "Cam ye by Athole, lad wi' the philabeg?" - -We are getting into the Highlands, we are at them, from now on nothing -but philabegs, pibrochs, pipes, tartans and heather, nothing but the -distilled essence of heather--heather ale? the secret was lost when the -Picts were conquered. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -HIGHLAND AND LOWLAND - - -Many ways lead out of Perth, but best of these is the foot-path way, -picked up anywhere in the Highlands. By rail the road leads down to the -sea, past Glamis Castle, built in 1500, where the room is shown in which -Duncan was murdered in 1000, although Shakespeare says it was at -Inverness; and to Kirriemuir, if one would match the "Bonnie Brier Bush" -with "The Window in Thrums." Or by rail the road leads to the lakes of -the West, and to the Highlands of the North. - -For one short space I took it northward to the Pass of Killiecrankie, -almost in fear, as a regiment of English mercenaries is said to have -been a-feared in the Forty Five, three-quarters of a century after -Killiecrankie. For here in a last splendid moment, Graham of -Claverhouse, Viscount of Dundee, and sometime Bonnie Dundee, was killed, -the battle having gone gloriously his way, for the glorious cause of -Stewart and _mon droit_--some say by a silver bullet, the devil -having charmed the leaden bullets that were showered against his magic -life; those who say it are Whigs. - -[Illustration: GLAMIS CASTLE.] - -Always called Bonnie Dundee by those of us who care for romance. To -quote from Samuel Crothers, "And you say they are the same? I cannot -make them seem the same. To me there are two of them: Graham of -Claverhouse, whom I hate, and the Bonnie Dundee, whom I love. If it's -all the same to you, I think I shall keep them separate, and go on -loving and hating as aforetime." - -The Pass is lovely enough, on a summer morning, with the sun shining -fair on the Highlands, the blue hills misty in the distance, the trees -thick green on both sides the bending Garry, and not a living thing in -view, nothing which belongs to the Duke of Atholl who owns everything -hereabout, except the air and the beauty and the memory, which I packed -in my Pilgrim's Wallet. - -Because the Duke owns the cathedral I did not claim any memory beside -the dust of Bonnie Dundee-- - - "Fling open the Westport and let me gae free." - -And now, to a certain defeat which I suffered near the Pass of -Killiecrankie, when I "cam by Athole." I was without a philabeg. If I -had had it--it sounds so enhearteningly like usquebaugh--I think my -courage would have been great enough to do the thing I had crossed over -seas to do--to walk from Blair Athole through Glen Tilt and between the -great lift of the Cairngorms, to Braemar. I had felt that I owed it to -Scottish ancestors and to those who had lost in the Risings. - -I remembered that Queen Mary had longed to be a man. When she had come -into this North to punish Huntley, so the Scottish calendar states, "She -repenteth of nothing, but when the lords and others came in the morning -from the watch, that she was not a man to know what life it was to lie -all night in the fields, or to walk upon the causeway with a jack and a -knapschall (helmet), a Glasgow buckler, and a broadsword." Her father's -errant soul was hers. And once she ventured it, but in fear of her life, -when she fled from the wraith of Darnley, to the scandalizing of the -mongers, "Her Majestie, in mennis claithes, buttit and spurrit, departed -that samin nicht of Borthwick to Dunbar, quhairof no man knew saif my -Lord Duke and sum of his servants, wha met Her Majestie a myll off -Borthwick and conveyed her hieness to Dunbar." - -[Illustration: GLEN TILT.] - -I added another Scottish defeat. For it was excessively warm that -summer, and Scotland can be as warm and as dry as Kansas. It is thirty -miles, the mountain way. There is no inn. There is possibility--there is -danger--of losing the way. There are no wolves, I suppose, and certainly -no Wolf of Badenoch. But there were the unknown terrors. - -So we walked a certain stent into Glen Tilt, enough to know that it is -wild, gloomy, one of the strangest wildest places, Ben-y-Gloe, the -"Mountain of the Mist," rising out of the early morning mist, yet not so -mysteriously or majestically as the Mountain Going to the Sun. But no -valley in our Mountain West has ever seemed more empty. And I suppose -since Pictish time this glen has been deserted. There were deer, red -deer, that thought they were free, and who looked out of their coverts -indifferently. We had not the heart to tell them that they belonged, -body and soul, to the Duke of Atholl. After the Porteous riots, Queen -Caroline, presiding in the place of George who was absent in his -favourite Hanover, threatened "to turn Scotland into a hunting field." -The Duke of Argyle thereupon hinted that he would have to "return to -look after my hounds." Queen Caroline seems sovereign to-day. And -especially on August eleventh, the day before St. Grouse Day, there is -an ominous quiet. - -So we returned by way of Coupar Angus--meekly remembering the proverb, -"he that maun to Coupar, maun to Coupar." Here we changed cars, nearly -losing the train, because we were so engrossed in watching the loading -of the luggage, the Scotch porter cheering on his assistant, "we're twa -strong men, haud awa, let's be canny." And in the great gold sunset that -was like the glory of God upon the heavenly Highlands. - -We came to Blairgowrie, where we heard in the twilight on the hills -above the town a bird of magic such as I have never heard elsewhere. Was -it a nightingale, or a night lark? It sang like these. - -Next morning we took coach across these great hills, by way of Glenshee, -a very lovely way of going, and not to be regretted, in its dashing -splendour of a coach and six--except that it was not a thirty-mile walk. -But it is to be historically remembered, because it is the way Mar's men -came down to the Strath of Tay, and brought the Rising into the -Lowlands. We would go to meet them. - -It was a memorable day. Not even the Simplon pass taken on a June day -when the road ran between fresh coach-out-topping walls of glittering -snow can make one forget the road over the Spittal of Glenshee. There -were impossibly purple mountains, indigo-deep, deeper purple than any -hills I have ever seen, so does the ripened heather dye the distances -more deeply. There were rocky glens, great loneliness, a mansion here -and there only just on leaving Blairgowrie, Tullyveolan, of course; -scarce a cottage even on the roadside; once a flock of sheep, near the -Spittal, being worked by Scotch collies, with an uncanny, or, canny, -second sense to get the master's direction. There was lunch at the -Spittal, a one-time Hospice, like that on the Simplon. And I wondered if -the song ran of this lovely little glen set in the midst of so much -primeval world-- - - "O wharawa got ye that auld crookit penny, - For ane o' bright gowd wad ye niffer wi' me? - Richt fou are baith ends o' my green silken wallet, - And braw will your hame be in bonnie Glenshee. - - "For a' the bricht gowd in your green silken wallet - I never wad niffer my crookit bawbee." - -The road at the top of the world runs smoothly enough. But when the -Devil's elbow is reached, a tremendous and dangerous turn in the road, -every one dismounts from the coach, and the sight of an adventurous -motor car coming down the turn does not decrease one's sense of peril. - - -_Braemar_ - -And then the sight of Braemar, and a consciousness that if you are about -to spend more money at the Fife Arms or the Invercauld than any but -royalty has a right to spend--royalty not having earned it--the -adventure has been worth it. - -And to have forgotten but as the coach flashes by to read the tablet-- - - "Here Robert Louis Stevenson lived in the summer of 1881, and wrote - 'Treasure Island.'" - -this is to be home again. - -Of course our first pilgrimage was to the Invercauld Arms, where we -again set up the standard on the braes of Mar. It was here that Malcolm -Canmore instituted the Highland Gathering which persists to this day. -And here, under cover of the hunt, so did the loyal Jacobites conceal -their intention, the Rising of the Fifteen was planned--and the hunters -became the hunted. - -[Illustration: INVERCAULD HOUSE.] - -It was evening, it was the Highlands, the great circle of mountains -lay round about. And if King James VIII and III had been defeated these -two hundred years, and dead a lesser time, and our loyalty had always -been to the Prince who came rather to establish his father than himself, -the Fifteen seemed like yesterday. In this remote high corner of the -world anything is possible, even the oblivion of time. It seemed very -vital, that faraway moment, which in truth few persons to-day take into -reckoning; even history recks little of it. But very near in this -illusory twilight--was that the Fiery Cross that glimmered in the -darkness? - - "The standard on the braes o' Mar - Is up and streaming rarely; - The gathering pipe on Lochnagar - Is sounding loud and clearly. - The Highlandmen frae hill and glen, - In martial hue, wi' bonnets blue, - Wi' belted plaids and burnished blades, - Are coming late and early. - - "Wha' wadna join our noble chief, - The Drummond and Glengarry? - Macgregor, Murray, Rollo, Keith, - Panmure and gallant Harry, - Macdonald's men, Clanranald's men, - Mackenzie's men, Macgilvrary's men, - Strathallan's men, the Lowland men - Of Callander and Airlie." - -Next day we met a gentleman we forever call "The Advocate of Aberdeen." -In any event the lawyers of Aberdeen have styled themselves "Advocates" -since so addressed by King James. We did not know that when we named -him, but we preferred it to any Sandy or "Mac" he might legally carry. -Having been informed by him that our name was Lowland and we were -entitled to none of the thrills of the Highlands, we failed to mount -farther than the third stage of the Morrone Hill. The wind blew a gale -from the nor'nor'west, like those better known to us from the -sou'sou'west. It was humiliating to have the Advocate of Aberdeen -instruct us when we returned that if we had gone on we might have proved -our Highland blood. - -We did not attempt Ben MacDui, although it may be approached by the -ever-easy way of pony-back, even the queen--not Mary--having mounted it -in this fashion. We were content to master, almost master, its -pronunciation according to the pure Gaelic--Muich Dhui. And then we -learned that by more accurate and later scientific measurement, MacDui -is not the tallest mountain in the kingdom, but Ben Nevis out-tops it. - -To make our peace with an almost forfeited fate, we took a dander, that -is, we walked back toward Glen Tilt by the way we had not come. There is -a happy little falls a couple of miles from the town, Corrimulzie, -plunging down a long fall through a deep narrow gorge, but very -pleasantly. We passed white milestone after white milestone, measured in -particular Scottish accuracy--we timed ourselves to a second and found -we could measure the miles by the numbers of our breaths. The forest is -thick and bosky, not an original forest, doubtless. But I was reminded -that Taylor, on his Pennyless Pilgrimage came to Braemar three hundred -years ago, and wrote "as many fir trees growing there as would serve for -masts (from this time to the end of the worlde) for all the shippes, -caracks, hoyes, galleyes, boates, drumiers, barkes, and water-crafte, -that are now, or can be in the worlde these fourty yeeres." He lamented -the impossibility of sending them down to tide water where they might -meet their proper fate. - -Only once did we meet a carriage in which we suspected that royalty, or -at least ladies-in-waiting--if Duke's wives who are royal have such -appendages--might be sitting. - -And on to the Linn of Dee, which is truly a marvelous place. The -Advocate of Aberdeen when we had asked him why so many of his townfolk -came this way, explained with a sense of possession of the greater Dee, -"we like to see what the Dee can do." Surely it can do it. In these rock -walls it has spent centuries carving for itself fantastic ways, until -not the Dalles of the St. Croix can excel its rock-bound fantasy. Given -time, the Dee can "do" pretty much as it pleases in granite. - -The few miles we ventured beyond the Linn were enough to prove that the -way was long, the wind was cold, the minstrel was infirm and old. Had we -walked all the mountain way we should have been much in need of a -"plaidie to the angry airts." This air is very bracing. - -But we sang many Jacobite songs in memory of the Risings. "Wha'll be -King but Charlie?" and "Charlie is my Darling," and "Over the sea -Charlie is coming to me," and "Will ye no come back again." And we sang -with particular satisfaction that we were not, after all, to suffer -royal wrongs--surely there is a falling away in the far generations in -the far places, since a King's son could so adventure-- - - "Dark night cam' on, the tempest roar'd, - Loud o'er the hills and valleys, - An' where was't that your Prince lay down - Who's hame should been a palace? - He row'd him in a Highland plaid, - Which cover'd him but sparely, - An' slept beneath a bush o' broom, - Oh, wae's me for Prince Charlie." - -On these braes of Mar, and in these hills and beside these very streams, -the Prince made his adventure--yes, and simply because of that adventure -will be forever remembered by those who believe in the heroic mood. - -[Illustration: BALMORAL CASTLE.] - -To leave Braemar the road leads down to Ballater, with motor cars to -take it swiftly; past the castles of Mar old and new, where betimes sits -the present Earl of Mar, not conning Risings but writing to the -magazines his idea of a free Scotland, which shall have its Home Rule -like Ireland--which was once Scotland--and which may have it at the -great peace; down through an increasingly pleasant country. Balmoral -Castle looks deserted now of its queen--and when queens desert, places -are much emptier than when kings leave. But "queen's weather" is still -possible here, even though the castle and our way are overshadowed by -Lochnagar, on which we bestow more than passing glance in memory of that -Gordon who was Lord Byron. - - "Ah! there my young footsteps in infancy wander'd; - My cap was the bonnet, my cloak was the plaid; - On chieftains long perished my memory ponder'd, - As daily I strove through the pine-cover'd glade; - I sought not my home till the day's dying glory - Gave place to the rays of the bright polar star; - For fancy was cheer'd by traditional story, - Disclosed by the natives of dark Loch na Garr." - -And one glance at Lumphanan-- "This Macbeth then slew they there in the -wood of Lumphanan," so runs the old chronicle. - - -_Aberdeen_ - -There is no city in Scotland which seems to me to have more personality, -a more distinct personality, than Aberdeen. It is plainly a -self-sufficient city, and both in politics and in religion it thinks for -itself, mindless if its thinking is not that of the rest of the kingdom. - -Its provost cannot leave its borders; once he attended a battle, many -and many a year ago, nineteen miles from the city at Harlow, and sad to -say, he was killed. So now the provost remains in the city, he cannot -leave it more than President can leave Republic, or Pope the Vatican. - -[Illustration: MARISCHAL COLLEGE.] - -In religion, Aberdeen is strongly Episcopalian, where it is not -Catholic. In truth there is a band of Catholicism running across the -country, from Aberdeen to Skye, through the heart of the Highlands. As -might be expected, the Highlands never yielded to the reformatory -methods of John Knox, but remained of the faith. - -There is no city that looks so Scottish, and yet so different, as -Aberdeen. It is a dignified and an extraordinarily clean city. After a -rain its granite glitters as though it had been newly cut, and to one -accustomed to smoke-grimed American cities Aberdeen looks as though it -were built this morning, when no doubt much of this granite has a right -to the hoar of antiquity. - -Marischal College, founded by the Keiths, who were Earl Marischals, -boasts of being the greatest granite pile in the world, after the -Escorial. Having walked a day through a circumscribed portion of that -Spanish granite, I chose to limit my footsteps in Marischal college. -Only to verify the stone did I enter. And there it stood, over the -doorway of the inner entrance hall, that stone which gives me a certain -ancestral right of hauteur-- - - Thay half said. - Quhat say thay? - Lat thame say. - -Scots are astonishingly fond of mottoes. They carve them, like Orlando's -verse, if not on every tree, on every lintel and over every fireplace; -from _Nemo me impune lacessit_ of the royal thistle race, to every clan -and every cottage. - -King's College (1495) is an older foundation than Marischal (1593), and -where once they were rivals, since the Eighteen Sixties they have been -harmonized, and since Mr. Carnegie gave them his benefaction, education -is free in this University of Aberdeen. King's College, if not the next -greatest granite pile, has a stone cross, which is the typical capping -of noble edifice in Scotland; in truth it begins at Newcastle on Tyne -when one enters the English beginning of the Border. - -The cathedral of St. Machar's, first founded by the saint who was a -disciple of Columba, was refounded by the saint who was David I--of -course; what a busy saint this was--and looks the part of age, but of -strength rather than arrogance, with its low lying towers. - -There is an old town even in the new town, and the contrast is sharp. If -one gets lost, turns suddenly into this old part, it is a curious -experience. The buildings look medieval, French provincial, and the -people look strange and foreign; also they treat you, a foreigner, with -all that curiosity, and something of that disrespect which you, of -course, deserve, having interloped into their sanctuary. The Duke of -Cumberland lived here for six weeks before advancing on Culloden, and -while he did not "butcher" here to deserve his name, his soldiers left -as ugly a fame behind them as Montrose's men, what time he made bloody -assault on the city. - -And in Broad Street may be found the house in which George Gordon, Lord -Byron, lived in his school days. In Don Juan, he autobiographically -remembers-- - - "As 'Auld Lang Syne' brings Scotland one and all, - Scotch plaids, Scotch snoods, the blue hills, and clear streams - The Dee, the Don, Balgownie's Brig's black wall, - All my boy feelings, all my gentle dreams - Of what I then dreamt, clothed in their own pall - Like Banquo's offspring;--floating past me seems - My childhood in this childishness of mine: - I care not--'tis a glimpse of 'Auld Lang Syne.'" - -Aberdeen is a sea city, lying between the mouths of the Dee and the Don. -A bridge, dating from 1320, crosses the Don, and Byron steadfastly -avoided it, lest he, a single son, might be found thereon on the single -foal of a mare, and the prophecy be filled, the brig fall down. - -One day in a small booth off Union Street I stopped to buy -strawberries--if you pick up southern England in early May and make -Inverness in late August, you can follow red strawberries and red -poppies in the wheat all the way from Land's End to John o' Groat's. -I asked the price of the berries and was told. I asked again, -and again. Finally, not ears but intuition told me. It was a -Scandinavian-Gaelic-English. I remembered that in Edinburgh I had -once asked a policeman the way, and hearing his reply I turned to my -friend--"Wouldn't you think you were in Minneapolis?" For especially -in Aberdeen you are looking to that Norway with which Scotland was so -closely linked, as with all the Scandinavian countries, in the early -centuries, till the Maid of Norway, granddaughter to Alexander III died -on her way to take the crown, and till after Margaret of Denmark brought -the Orkneys and the Hebrides to James III as her dowery. - - "To Norroway, to Norroway, - To Norroway o'er the faem; - The King's daughter of Norroway, - 'Tis thou maun bring her hame." - -And I remember the tragedy of that frustrated journey-- - - "O forty miles off Aberdeen, - 'Tis fifty fathoms deep, - And there lies gude Sir Patrick Spens, - Wi' the Scots lords at his feet." - -Remembering the sea, which I had not yet seen, I tried to make my way -down to the shore, but Aberdeen is a sea-port, and docks instead of -shore line its sea edge. What I was seeking was rather rocks-- - - "On the rocks by Aberdeen, - Where the whistlin' wave had been - As I wandered and at e'en - Was eerie--" - -And after a visit to the fishmarket, which is a truly marvelous -monstrous place, I set out to find the rocks, toward the south. - -There is never a place more rock-bound, more broken into fantastic -shapes, and worn daily and increasingly by the waves, than this east -coast. Neither Biarritz nor Brittany nor Nova Scotia is more broken or -more thunderous in resentment. I have not seen the Magellan straits. - -One is constantly conscious of fish on this east coast. The railroads -form the Great East Fish route. I have been coming up in the night from -London and had to hold my breath until we passed these swift fish trains -which have the right of way to the metropolitan market. A little south -of Aberdeen is the village of Findon; whence finnan haddie. - - -_Dunnottar_ - -The rocks which were my goal were those just below Stonehaven. At -Stonehaven the French had landed supplies for the Forty Five--as from -Montrose, a few miles farther down the coast, King James had sailed -after the failure of the Fifteen. Fishing vessels lay idly in the narrow -harbour, their tall masts no doubt come "frae Norroway o'er the faem," -since the trees on the east coast have not increased from that day when -Dr. Johnson found the sight of a tree here equal to that of a horse in -Venice. - -Dunnottar stands on a great crag of this coast, against which the sea -has beaten angrily since time and the coast began, against which it -moans and whines at low tide, and then, come high tide, rushes -thunderously in to see what havoc it can work once more. - -[Illustration: DUNNOTTAR CASTLE.] - -Dunnottar is impregnable. I cannot believe that sixteen inch guns--is it -seventeen, now?--would make impression on this great red crag. I know -they would; after Liege and Namur one knows that modern guns can outlaw -any impregnability of the past. But I do not believe. - -The road from Stonehaven runs for two miles over level country, and -then, suddenly, the edge breaks in a sheer cliff. - -Across a natural moat of great depth, on a cliff crag, stands the -castle. The road picks its way down perilously; only a mule path, and -that precipitous. Then it crosses the dry bed where once may have hung a -draw bridge, and, entering through a portcullis, it climbs to the -castle, through a winding, tortuous way, sometimes a climb, sometimes a -flight of steps, sometimes open to the sky but ramped sternly on either -side, sometimes through stone canyons; a place impossible to surprise. -Finally you reach the top, the sky. - -The top is three acres large. - -Far back, no doubt in Culdee times, a church stood there. Because -churches must be sanctuary they took the high places; otherwise why -should one lift prayer to God when the mad sea was continually -contradicting the faith? - -Sir William Keith, being a warrior with a warrior's eye, looked on the -place, found it strategically good, and built a tower thereon. He was -excommunicated by the Bishop of St. Andrew's--who did not anticipate the -Lords of the Congregation and the Covenanters. Sir William appealed to -Rome. Rome ordered the ban removed. And ordered Sir William to build a -church on the mainland, beyond the protestantism of the waves. - -It began its war history early. In 1297 four thousand English took -refuge here to escape Wallace. Nothing daunted, Wallace scaled the -cliff, entered a window--the proof is there in the window--opened the -gate, let in his men, and slaughtered the four thousand. - -Edward III took it, and Montrose besieged it. - -Then it swung back into loyal legal possession, and experienced a bit of -history worth the telling. In 1652--Montrose had been dead two -years--the Countess Dowager had taken into safe keeping the regalia of -Scotland. The castle was besieged by those who had killed their king and -would destroy the king's insignia. If the castle should fall the very -symbol of the king's royalty would be melted, as Cromwell melted the -regalia of England. The defense was not strong. At any moment it might -be forced to surrender. But the regalia must be saved. - -So the Lady Keith plotted. It was a woman's plot--always there is the -woman in Jacobitism. The wife of the minister at Kinneff paid a visit to -the wife of the governor of Dunnottar; Mrs. Grainger called on Mrs. -Ogilvie. She had been "shopping" in Stonehaven, and was returning to -Kinneff five miles down the sea. When Mrs. Grainger left the castle she -carried with her the crown of Scotland. Sitting on her horse she made -her way through the besieging lines, and her maid followed with the -scepter of Scotland and the sword in a bag on her back. The English -besiegers showed every courtesy to the harmless woman--and to the -Honours of Scotland. Mrs. Grainger carefully buried the treasure beneath -the paving of Kinneff church, and not until her death did she betray -their hiding place to her husband. - -Meanwhile Lady Keith sent her son Sir John to France. A little boat -escaping in the night carried him to the French vessel lying off shore, -and the Lady sent forth the rumour that Sir John had carried the regalia -to the King o'er the water, to Charles II at Paris. It was after the -Restoration that the aureate earth at Kinneff was dug up. The women had -saved the Scottish crown for the rightful lawful king. - -A dark chapter runs a quarter of a century later. The castle was still -loyal. In truth it was always loyal except in brief usurpations, as all -this corner of Scotland was loyal and royal and Jacobite. In 1675 in -"Whig's Vault" there lodged one hundred and sixty-seven Covenanters as -prisoners, and they lodged badly. Many died, a few escaped, the rest -were sold as slaves. Coming on ship to New Jersey as the property of -Scott of Pitlochry, Scott and his wife died and almost all the -covenanting slaves. Only a few saw the plantations of the New World, and -could resume the worship of their God. The story of Dunnottar is dark. -The castle looks the dark part it played. - -In Dunnottar churchyard on the mainland there is a Covenanter's stone, -where "Old Mortality" was working when Scott came upon him. The stone -carries a simple stern legend of heroism--and almost wins one to the -cause. - -And yet, there is evidence that in stern Dunnottar life had its moments -other than war and siege. The remnants of the castle are of great -extent; bowling gallery, ballroom, state dining-room, a library, a large -chapel, speak a varied existence. There is a watch tower, a keep, -rising forty sheer feet above the high rock, with ascent by a winding -stair, somewhat perilous after the centuries; but from the Watchman's -seat what a prospect, landward and seaward! What a sense of security in -the midst of peril! And on the farther corner of the giddy height, above -the rock and above the waves dashing far below, I found growing blue -bells of Scotland. - -There is one corner of the castle where I fain would inhabit, the -northwest corner that looks down on the sea raging cruelly upon the -rocks that are the first line of defense against the onslaught of the -sea, and that looks far over the North Sea; that sea which is more -mysterious to me and more lovely than the Mediterranean; I have seen it -a beautiful intense Italian blue, with an Italian sky above it. I have -never seen it still, always surging, raging, always cruel. Yet I should -be willing to look out on it for many unbroken days. And to hear the -somber movement of the "Keltic" sonata played upon the rocks. - -The Earl Marischal liked the view, whatever his generation. The North -was in his blood, and the sea, even though he was a landsman, spoke -adventure. The Earl's bedroom is almost habitable to-day. Once it was a -place of luxury. The plaster still clings to the walls in places, and -there is a fireplace where still one could light a fire against the -chill of the North. The date above is 1645, when Charles was still king, -and there was no threat of disloyalty. The tablet unites the arms of the -Keiths and the Seatons, the stone divided by a pillar surmounted by two -hearts joined. The Keith motto, _Veritas vincit_, underlines the Keith -shield; but I like better the Seaton motto--_Hazard yit forvard_. - -The Earl's library opens out of this. And I doubt not it was richly -stored in the days when the last Lord Marischal won here that mental -habitude which made him equal in wit and wisdom to Voltaire. And no -doubt here sat his mother, loyal Jacobite, steadfast Catholic, sending -her two sons forth to battle for the lost cause of the Stewarts--never -lost while women remember--while she looked forth on these waters and -watched for the return. The story runs in the Jacobite ballad of "Lady -Keith's Lament"-- - - "I may sit in my wee croo house, - At the rock and the reel fu' dreary, - I may think on the day that is gane, - And sigh and sab till I grow weary.... - - "My father was a good lord's son, - My mother was an earl's daughter, - An' I'll be Lady Keith again, - That day our king comes o'er the water." - - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -THE CIRCLE ROUND - - -The iron road from Aberdeen to Inverness must follow somewhat the road -which gallant Mary took on her way to punish Huntley. There is a bleak -stern look about this country as a whole, but here and there stand -castles, or lie low the ruins of castles, in many a chosen place of -beauty; for harsh as were these lords, and devastating as were their -deeds, life must have had its moments of wonder and of delight. If -Malcolm Canmore destroyed Inverness before the Twelve Hundreds, and the -fat Georges destroyed Inverugie late in the Seventeen Hundreds, and all -through the centuries that stretched between strong men built -strongholds and stronger men took them and made mock of them, still -there must have been gentleness and beauty. There were women, other than -Lady Macbeth; there were young men and maidens noble or common; and I -suppose the glamour of romance, the reality or the illusion of love, -was invented before peace and commerce became the occupations of men. - - -_Peterhead_ - -One brief journey I made along the bleak coast up to the town of -Peterhead, which looks nearest to Norroway across the foam, and has a -most uncompromising aspect. Peterhead is a penal town to-day; and it is -one of a string of fishing villages, picturesque as fishing villages -are, except to the nose, "that despised poet of the senses"; and not -picturesque to the people, who lack the colour of fisherfolk in -Brittany. But I wished to see with mine own eyes the ruins of Inverugie. - -It is one of the castles belonging to the Lords Marischal. It came to -them in a curious way of forfeiture, an abbot dispossessed or some such -thing, like Dunnottar, but without the appeal to Rome. And one of the -stones of the castle carried the promise, and the threat-- - - "As lang's this stane stands on this croft - The name o' Keith shall be abaft, - But when this stane begins to fa' - The name o' Keith shall wear awa'." - -The last Lord Marischal came hither, late, late, in the Seventeen -Hundreds. He had seen a century move through strife to peace. In person -he had taken part in the Rising of the Fifteen, a young man, but still -hereditary Lord Marischal, and loyal to the Stewart cause. He had taken -no part in the Rising of the Forty Five; he was not "out" on that dark -night. But the sweeping revenge of those English times made the Keiths -attaint and--the stone dropped from its croft. The Lord Marischal and -his brother made the continent their refuge, Paris in particular, -although the activities of the proposed restoration took their Lordships -to Madrid and Rome and Berlin and St. Petersburg. - -The younger brother, James, was made a Field Marshal by Catherine of -Russia, and that amorous termagant making love to him in the natural -course of proximity, he discreetly fled, became Field Marshal for -Frederick the Great, and not marrying--whatever the romance of the -Swedish lady--he fell at the battle of Hochkirch in 1758, and lies -buried in the _Garison Kirche_ of Berlin. A statue stands in the -Hochkirch kirche, and in 1868 the King of Prussia presented a replica to -Peterhead. And even so late as 1889, the Kaiser, remembering the Great -King's Field Marshal, named one of the Silesian war units, the Keith -regiment. - -There is no statue to the Lord Marischal--_Maréschal d'Ecosse_, always -he signed himself. He was the friend of the wittiest and wisest and -wickedest men of his time, of David Hume, and Voltaire, and Rousseau, -and Frederick the Great. Neither did he marry. Dying at the age of -ninety-two, he was buried in Potsdam. There is no statue to him, there -or here. And Inverugie lies in low ruins. - -Hither he came, when attaint was lifted, late in those tottering years. -He drove out to the castle, remembering all it had meant, the long -splendid records of the Earls Marischal, and how the King, James III and -VIII--Banquo saw him also-- - - "And yet the eighth appears, who bears a glass - Which shows me many more." - -James, not pretending but claiming, landed at Peterhead, lodged at -Inverugie, summoned the loyal and they came. The Standard was lifted for -a moment, and then fell. - -Breaking into tears the old Lord Marischal realized all, an epoch -closed, a Scotland no longer requiring a Marischal. He left Inverugie, -even this ruin. - -All this Northeast territory, no larger than a county in Dakota, bears -these scars of the past. - -At Elgin there are the ruins of a cathedral; ruined, not by the English -but by the Wolf of Badenoch, because my Lord Bishop had given a judgment -which did not please my Lord of Badenoch. And the Wolf, his fangs drawn, -was compelled to stand barefooted three days before the great west gate. - -At Canossa! Lands and seas and centuries divide--but there is slight -difference. - -A scant mile or two to the north of Elgin lies the ruined Spynie Castle -of the Lord Bishop, a great place for strength, with massive keep--and -fallen. "A mighty fortress is our God." Cathedrals, castles, bishops and -lords, all pass away. - - -_Cawdor_ - -As we neared one of the last of the Northern stations, we turned to each -other and asked, "How far is't called to Forres?" And suddenly all was -night and witch dance and omen and foretelling. For it is here in the -palace that Banquo's ghost appeared and foretold all that history we -have been meeting as we came northward. And next is the town of -Nairn, which has become something of a city since Boswell found it "a -miserable place"; it is still long and narrow, stretching to the sea -with its fisherfolk cottages and bonneted women like the fisher wives of -Brittany; and stretching to the Highlands at the other end, as King -James said. - -[Illustration: SPYNIE CASTLE.] - -It was here that Wordsworth heard - - "Yon solitary Highland lass, - Reaping and singing by herself; ... - Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow - For old unhappy far-off things, - And battles long ago.... - The music in my heart I bore - Long after it was heard no more." - -But one leaves the train with a curious feeling. Of course one may be a -little tired. Arm chair travel and arm chair tragedy have their -advantages. But--Nairn is the nearest point to the blasted heath. - - "Where's the place? - Upon the heath, - There to meet Macbeth." - -It is not entirely necessary that one should make Nairn and walk out to -The Heath. Any of these northern silent Scottish blasted heaths will -serve. It is as though the witches had made their mysterious -incantations anywhere, everywhere. And if Shakespeare was in Scotland in -1589--as I like to think he was--it is doubtful if he saw The Heath. -Johnson told Hannah More, so she reports, that when he and Boswell -stopped for a night at a spot where the Weird Sisters appeared to -Macbeth, they could not sleep the night for thinking of it. Next day -they found it was not The Heath. This one is, in all faith, apocryphal. -Still, if you come hither toward evening, when - - "Good things of day begin to droop and drowse" - -it is fearsome enough. Such heaths demand their legend. - - "The thane of Cawdor lives - A prosperous gentleman." - -Not so prosperous now as when he lived in the life. Shakespeare took -liberties with the Thane. He immortalized him into Macbeth! And Cawdor -Castle, out from Nairn a few paces on the burn of Cawdor, might have -been the very home of Macbeth. It is pleasant, flowery, lovely. But -also, it is stern and looks like a castle for tragedy. But not for -mystery. I did not hear a bird of prey, as some travelers report-- - - "The raven himself is hoarse - That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan - Under my battlements." - -[Illustration: _Cawdor Castle_] - -There are iron girded doors and secret apartments; not for Macbeth, but -for Lovat. This Lord of the Last Rising lived secretly for many months -in Cawdor while the Prince was moving restlessly to and fro in the -Islands. But the Prince was only twenty-five, and Lord Lovat was over -eighty. I like to think he was as young and keen to adventure as the -Prince. And I do not like to think of that beheading in the Tower-- - - "I must become a borrower of the night." - - -_Inverness_ - -The four chief cities of Scotland are arranged like a diamond for -excursion and for history. Always Scotland, unlike Gaul, has been -divided into four parts. Places of pilgrimage were Scone, Dundee, -Paisley, Melrose. Places for the quartering of Montrose were Glasgow, -Perth, Aberdeen, Stirling. And now four places are rivals; in trade -somewhat, but Glasgow leads in beauty, but Edinburgh, after all, is -unique in dignity, but Aberdeen is unbending; in the picturesque there -remains Inverness. - -The city deserves its honours. (William Black has painted it in "Wild -Eelin.") It has a life of its own. For when I first came to Inverness -there was a cattle fair on, and sheep from all over the kingdom, from -Shropshire and from the Cheviots, came to be judged in Inverness; and -men came with them who looked very modern and capable and worldly and -commercial. It was all like a county fair of Iowa, only more dignified, -with no touch of sideshow. And, of course, there is the Highland -gathering in September, which has become too much like the sideshow, too -much a show, to attract the groundlings, and not a gathering of the -clans. Still--if one must take Scotland in a gulp--this is a very good -chance at Highland colour and sound and remnants of valour. - -The town itself is full of pictures. It does not announce itself. There -is a close-built part, looking like a French provincial town, with -gabled houses, and down on the banks of the Ness the women spread their -clothes to dry as they do on a French river bank. There is a new -cathedral, very new, with an angel at the font we remembered William -Winter had liked, so we paid it respectful attention. There is a park -on the Ness to the west, where many islands and many bridges form a spot -of beauty. - -And there is Tomnahurich--The Hill of the Fairies--a sudden steep -hill-mound, where Inverness carries its dead--like the Indians who -carried them to Indian mounds high above the rivers of the American -West. The dark yews make it even more solemn; one wonders if the fairies -dare play in these shades. But it is a sweetly solemn place, and we -decided to care not what Invernessians lay buried here if we might sit -on its convenient park benches and look at far rolling Scotland and -think of fairies and of Thomas the Rimer, who, it seems, came hither all -the way from Ercildoune from Melrose to heap this mound for his burial! -The errant Scots! - -There remains no stone of Macbeth's Castle to which the gentle Duncan -came--"And when goes hence?" The county buildings--and a jail!--stand on -its site, a most modern pile. Malcolm razed that castle after he had -returned from England, and after Birnam wood had come to Dunsinane. It -was builded again; Inverness was a vantage point. Perhaps that one was -burned by the Lord of the Isles who afterward came to repentance and to -Holyrood. And builded again so that Huntley could defy Mary, and she -could take the castle and order it razed. And builded again so that -Cromwell could destroy it. And builded again as one of the five -fortresses whereby he sought to hold Scotland "Protected." And destroyed -at the Restoration which sought to destroy all the Protectorate had -built. But builded again so it might be destroyed by Prince Charles -Edward. No, I scarce think there is even the dust of the castle of -Macbeth left in Inverness, or incorporated into modern Fort George. The -"knock, knock, knock," which the porter heard at the gate, has battered -down a score of ominous strongholds. - -But still - - "The castle hath a pleasant seat; the air - Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself - Unto our gentle senses." - -For all the north of Scotland, away from the east winds, is pleasant and -lovely, with the mean climate that of London, and possible in winter and -summer. - -In the grounds there stands a statue of Flora Macdonald looking out to -the West, and carrying the legend-- - - "On hills that are by right his ain - He roams a lanely stranger." - -Could legend be better chosen to compress and carry all that story of -loyalty and courage and devotion? - -And so we moved out to Culloden. - -It was on a gray wind-swept afternoon that we made our pilgrimage. There -was no sense of rain. It was a hard sky. It spread leaden to the world. - -We chose to walk the six mile stretch. Not with comfort or any show of -splendour, not even with a one-horse carriage, would we approach -Culloden. - -The road leads over lonely Drumossie moor through a plantation of firs, -to a wild and naked spot--where all that was Scotland and nothing else -was burned out of the world by the withering fire of Cumberland, and the -remnant that would not save itself but fought to the last was cut to -pieces by his order. - -I do not suppose that even on a hot sweet afternoon could any one with a -drop of Scotch blood come hither and not feel in his face the rain and -sleet of that seventeenth of April day, 1746. If one comes on that day -the cairn is hung with flowers, white roses of course, for there are -still Jacobites left in the world who have given to no other king their -allegiance. "Pretender!" cried Lady Strange to one who had mis-spoken -in her presence, "Pretender and be dawmned to ye!" - -No, it was not the Pass of Thermopylæ, nor a Pickett's charge. Nor was -it even war. - -Nevertheless it was one of the brave moments in human history. If -hopeless and even meaningless, does not bravery give it meaning? The -Highlanders--they were the last Jacobites left, as the army of the -Butcher, Cumberland, George Second's fat son swept northward and stopped -for their larder to be well-filled before they went on--had had only a -biscuit, the day before! They were five thousand to the English ten -thousand. - -At eleven in the morning the Highlanders moved forward, the pipers -playing brave music, and they recked not that the English had the chosen -ground; theirs was not even a forlorn hope. Not if the Macdonalds, sulky -because they were on the left when since Bannockburn they had been on -the right, had fired a shot would the end have been different. - -[Illustration: BATTLEFIELD OF CULLODEN.] - -On the battlefield, looking at these mounds, the long trench of the -dead, one realizes that Scotland lies buried here. M'Gillivray, M'Lean, -M'Laughlin, Cameron, Mackintosh, Stuart of Appin--so many brave names. - - "The lovely lass of Inverness, - Nae joy nor pleasure can she see, - For e'en and morn she cries, alas! - And ay the saut tear blin's her e'e-- - - "Drumossie muir, Drumossie day! - A waefu' day it was to me! - For there I lost my father dear, - My father dear, and brothers three. - - "Their winding sheet the bluidy clay-- - Their graves are growing green to see; - And by them lies the dearest lad - That ever blest a woman's e'e. - - "Now wae to thee, thou cruel lord! - A bluidy man I trow thou be; - For mony a heart thou hast made sair - That ne'er did wrong to them or thee." - -The small remnant that was left, and was not butchered by Cumberland, -fled to the West. Sometimes one could wish Prince Charles had died at -Culloden! and yet one would not spare the wanderings, or Flora -Macdonald. Thousands of the men fled to America; thousands of Scots in -America to-day can say, "My great grandfather fought at Culloden." -Hundreds of Scots to-day are sent "home" from America to be educated. I -have met in the magnificent Highlands of Montana, Scotchmen, true -Highlanders, who had been sent to Edinburgh university that they might -be Scots, even though they carried "American" blood in their veins. - -When Boswell and Johnson came here in 1773, twenty-seven years after the -Forty Five, they found that many of the Highlanders were going to -America, leaving the lairds and the land. One M'Queen of Glenmorison was -about to go. - -"Dr. Johnson said he wished M'Queen laird of Glenmorison, and the laird -to go to America. M'Queen very generously answered he should be sorry -for it; for the laird could not shift for himself in America as he could -do." - -Small wonder that Prince Charles, knowing of this exodus, and believing -life still held for him its chances, its glories, away from Rome and -even if he was fifty-five, looked longingly over the sea, in 1776, -thinking that he might lead these rebellious colonists, so many of them -of his rebellious people, and reëstablish the House of Stewart in the -New World. Surely Burr, coming with Blennerhasset, thirty years after, -had something of the Stewart in him. - - -_The Orkneys_ - -Scotland is divided by a deep geologic cleft. Glenmore, the Great Glen, -runs southwesterly from Inverness to Fort William and Oban, cutting the -country into two parts. One is Scotland; the other is the West, the -Highlands and the Islands. One is known, the other unknown. One has been -prosperous, royal, noble; the other has been wild, independent, chief -and clans holding together. To-day, if the East is strangely quiet, the -West is strangely silent. - -In the East you know things have happened; remnants remain, ruined -castles testify; in the West it is as though they had not happened, -those far historic things; castles are heaps of blackened or crumbled -stone; or, if they stand, they stand like prehistoric remnants, and the -clachans are emptied; the Risings, the migrations, the evictions, the -extensions of deer forests and sheep pastures and grouse preserves, the -poverty, yes, and the wandering spirit of the people leading them ever -afar--where always they are Scottish down to the last drop, always -looking toward Home, but ever leaving it empty of their presence. - -It is a stranger land, though so lovingly familiar, than any I have ever -been in. I have been in valleys of the Rockies which were not so lonely -as glens in Scotland. When Hood wrote his sonnet on "Silence," beginning - - "There is a silence where hath been no sound," - -He went on to a correction-- - - "But in the antique palaces where man hath been." - -He missed the note of glens and valleys where man has been and is not. - -From the Great Glen, a series of lochs lying in a geologic "fault," and -connected more than a century ago by a series of locks, excursion may be -had into remote places, so very remote even if they lie but a half dozen -miles in the backward; the farther ones, to the Orkneys, to John o' -Groat's, to Skye, the island of mist and of Prince Charlie and Dr. -Johnson and Fiona McLeod, and vast numbers of places known to those who -seek beauty only. - -Three forts were built in the rebellious Seventeen Hundreds to hold this -far country. The forts rather betray history. And they form convenient -places of departure for those who would conquer the Highlands and the -Islands for themselves. - -Fort George, near Inverness, is still used as a depot for military -stores and for soldiers. Fort Augustus has been surrendered to the -Benedictines who are gradually developing here a great monastery which -in these silences should rival the monasteries of old--if that may be. -Fort William, most strategic of all, is also strategic for traveler's -descent. Thus is the iron hand that succeeded the bloody hand at -Culloden become rust. - -[Illustration: THE OLD MAN OF HOY.] - -To the men of old the Orkneys seemed at the back of beyond and a little -farther. Yet, I cannot think how it has reduced the distance to a -comprehensible length if farther ends of the world and endless waters -have been reached; distance is three parts imagination in any event. As -a man thinketh so is distance. - -The run up the coast to Scrabster, the port of Thurso, is very much on -the coast, with wild barren land on one side, and wild waste water on -the other; with here and there a resting-place for the eye or mind, like -Skibo Castle for our American Laird of Skibo, Dunrobin Castle for the -magnificent Sutherlands, and on a branch line leading out to the sea the -house of John o'Groat, perhaps the best known citizen above Land's End. - -From Scrabster the Old Man of Hoy lifts his hoary head over the seas, -and invites to Ultima Thule, if this be Ultima Thule. And I suppose that -ever since Agricola came up this way the Old Man has sent forth his -invitation. The Romans did not answer it, although Tacitus wrote about -it; and it was left for much later folk to dispute the Picts and take -the islands for themselves. - -An archipelago of fifty-six islands lies scattered over the water, with -only half of them inhabited, but not all the rest habitable; if, like -Sancho Panza, you are looking for an island, you will not find the isle -of heart's desire here. The scant inhabited twenty odd are not over -filled with population; these islands are not hospitable to large -numbers, not even of their own. They came to us through Margaret of -Denmark, queen to James III, and were confirmed when Anne of Denmark -came to be queen to James VI. - -The sail over the Pentland Firth may be taken on a still day when the -historic waters, as vexed as those of the Bermoothes, lie like glass. -The rage of water, of any water, is not the frequent mood; but always it -is the memorable. Blue above and blue below was the day of our going, -twenty miles past high "continental" shores, like Dunnet's head, and -between the outliers of the Orcadian group, at the end of a summer day -that never ends in this North. - -Yet I cannot think how I should ever again approach "Mainland" and the -port of Kirkwall with such indifference to everything except the -exquisite cool softness of this Northern air of mid-summer, with an -indolent interest in the land ahead, hardly quickened into active -interest which is the traveler's right, when we approached Scapa in the -twilight. - -I did remember that the Vikings were once here as kings. And when King -Haakon of Norway was returning from the defeat at Largs in the west -where his fleet suffered the blow repeated later against the Spanish -armada, one ship was sucked down into a whirlpool near Stroma. And -Haakon died here of a broken heart. All these seemed like old, far-off -things that are not unhappy. Yet there was a suggestion of fate in the -place; perhaps there always is in a Northern twilight. To approach -Kirkwall after this, will always be to remember the Hampshire, going to -its death in a water more dangerous than that of whirling Stroma, and -Lord Kitchener going with it. - -Kirkwall is a pleasant old town; or was, till war made it busy and new. -It lies inland a mile or two across the isthmus, but no doubt stretching -actively down to the south pier at Scapa during the years of the great -war, when all the British fleet hovered about. - -The town is gray, like all Scottish towns; nature does these things with -perfect taste. And, in the midst, man has builded for his worship a -church of red sandstone, the Cathedral of St. Magnus, older and in -better condition than churches of Scotland more exposed to the change of -faith; with a long dim interior that speaks the North, with massive -Norman arches; one wonders how the reformed faith can conduct itself in -this dim religious light. - -But the Earl's Palace remains a thing of beauty. Earl Patrick builded -it, the son of Robert who was half brother to Mary. If the palace had -been built in Mary's day I should, in truth, have lamented that she did -not come hither after the escape from Loch Leven, instead of going to -defeat at Langside. Mary was valiant, and the stern North was, after -all, in her blood. - -But Patrick as "jarl" came a generation later, and he taxed the islands -mercilessly to build this very beautiful palace. The roof is gone, but -the beauty remains, oriel windows, fireplaces, and towers and turrets. -No doubt when "the wind is blowing in turret and tree," Patrick's palace -can be ruined enough. But on a day when the blue sky is sufficient -vaulting, the palace is a place to dream in. - -[Illustration: EARL'S PALACE, KIRKWALL.] - -Over at Birsay, twenty miles across the Mainland--there are twenty mile -stretches in this Mainland--there is another palace, built by Robert, -himself, who was, incidentally, Abbot of Holyrood as well as Earl of the -Orkneys. The motto-stone declares-- - - "Dominus Robertus Stuartus - Filius Jacobi Quinti Rex Scotorum - Hoc Opus Instruxit." - -"Rex" said Robert, not "regis"; perhaps his Latin knew no better, but -his spirit knew this was right. The nominative agreed with Robertus, not -with Jacobi. Still, the ruler of the Orkneys was a supreme lord at this -remove from king and counselors. - -Here and there, but only here and there through the islands, lies -traveler's lure. Motor boats make the run for tourist pleasure, and many -of the "points of interest" can be seen from the waters; particularly -the "brochs," the cairn-like towers of perhaps Pictish building; and the -round tower of St. Magnus on Egilsay, which must date back very far, -perhaps to the time when Columba came hither from Ireland and converted -these people and gave them hints of Irish building. - -There are remnants of life earlier than Columba, of faith earlier, -though we know not the faith. The Circle of Bogar, old gray pillar-like -stones, set in purple heather, are comparable with Stonehenge and -Locmariaqueur. Scott found them equal; Scott who had such an admirable -way of finding in Scotland the equal of the world. In "The Pirate" he -describes these stones, indeed he describes these Orkneys in this -accurate guide book which is still "up to date." - -To the blood shed and violence of old days has succeeded the quiet -pursuit of agriculture; and instead of the boats that used to sail to -the New World, H. B. C. boats and those to the Plantations, and to -Russia for the Northwest Passage, and to the Arctic for the Pole, are -the quiet boats of the fisherfolk. Except--when war fleets ride at -anchor. - - -_The Caledonian Canal_ - -The Great Glen itself is a necessary journey, even though no side trips -be made. I must believe that every one who has ever taken it and written -account, journeyed down this waterway in a Scotch mist; which, of -course, is not a mist at all, but something finite and tangible. - -I, myself, went my ways that way. And, of course, those who had come -north the day before me, and those who came south the day after, came -through magnificent clearness, and marvels of marvels, Ben Nevis cleared -of mists to his very crest and beyond, shining splendid and majestic and -out-topping all Scotland, against the brilliant cloud-swept northern -sky! Frankly, I am always tempted to be suspicious when any one tells me -he has traveled the Great Glen and seen it all. - -The scenery on both sides is wild, desolate, mountainous, a daring of -nature. There are sheer hillsides where all is revealed; again, there -are wooded hills where the men of the Forty Five might be still lurking. - -Dochfour, Ness, Oich, Lochy, are the names of these "great lakes" that -make the chain. There is quality to their names, like Superior, Huron, -Erie, Ontario. But the Scottish chain is sixty miles long and can be -made from morning to evening, with enough of the day left to go through -Loch Linnhe and so to Oban; as one should add, through the St. Lawrence -and so to Quebec. Yet when one has passed from Inverness to Oban the -mind is as full, it has come through as much contact, nay, more, as in -the journey from Duluth to Quebec. - -There are ruined castles by the way. Urquhart, looking very picturesque, -especially if the mist is but half come down over the world and the -purple of the distances is of that deep royal purple so characteristic -of the water and mountain distances of this wild west country. Yet the -sunny distances are as much a marvel of colour in their pale blue that -has so much intensity, so much real vivacity. Purple one has learned to -associate with distance; or, since some painter has shown us the -truthful trick. But blue, this particular Scottish blue, I have never -seen elsewhere. It is woven of mists and sunlight in equal proportions. - -And so, Urquhart in its ruin, standing romantically on a fir clad -promontory, is most alluring as the boat rounds it on its early way. I -do not know anything of Urquhart. The name rather suggests the middle -name carried by a once famous actress. Somehow I half believe that in -that castle Charlotte Corday may have stabbed Marat. But then, facetious -and unromantic, I wonder at the baths in Urquhart in the old days when -skene dhus served in the place of daggers. - -There are other romantic lures in the names which seem to have dropped -so carelessly anywhere. Inverarigaig--which sounds more musical than it -looks on the page--stands at the head of the pass through which The -Prince came after that day at Culloden on his way to the West as -wanderer. Far down the stretch of water rises Mealfourvournie, a rounded -naked hill overlooking the ravine where once the church of Cilles Christ -stood; and once, full of Mackenzies, was set on fire by the Macdonalds, -and all the Mackenzies burned. The act is not singular among the clans. -McLeod of Dare gives it to the Macdonalds and McLeods. And so one comes -to believe the story of a traveler coming on a Highland cottage and -asking if there were any Christians within, got back the reply,--"no, -we're all Macdonalds." Surely Saint Columba was needed in later -centuries than the Sixth. - -The Falls of Foyers are across the lake, surrendered now to aluminum -works. And yet Burns wrote of them - - "Among the heathery hills and rugged woods - The roaring Foyers pours his moving floods." - -Christopher North wrote a better, a prose poem, which sounds somewhat -curiously in American ears. "What a world of waters now comes tumbling -into the abyss! Niagara! hast thou a fiercer roar? Listen--and you think -there are momentary pauses of thunder, filled up with goblin groans! All -the military music-bands of the army of Britain would here be dumb as -mutes--Trumpet, Cymbal and the Great Drum!" - -Fort Augustus closes the end of the loch, and here the Benedictines, -black-robed, move in somber file where once the red-coated soldiers -marched. - -Five locks raise the steamer fifty feet, into the Highlands. And while -the boat is waiting the rise, here, as at any of the locks, there is -entertainment. Fellow travelers get out to stretch their legs, and that -is amusing enough, tolerantly considered. There are tea houses at every -lock, many of them, sometimes charmingly rose-embowered like the houses -along the Thames. There are pipers who march majestically up and down, -swinging their sporrans, swaying their kilts; one is almost afraid to -give a penny. - -And I remember at one of these pausing places where the passengers -remained on the boat, that a very pleasing gentleman who looked as -George Washington may have looked on gala occasions did sing for my -entertainment and that of my fellow passengers; except one fellow -American who expressed her disapproval. Perhaps George Washington did -not dress so gaily; it was just the hat. There was a black coat, white -breeches, crimson waistcoat, blue stockings, silver buckled shoes, and -a cocked hat. And this pleasing gentleman sang to a tune that was no -tune but very cheering, about "the hat me faither wore." And he was so -doing his best, which was very good indeed, that I was forced to get -change for a sixpence--it cannot be ethical, and certainly is not fun to -throw a little silver disk when six large coppers may be thrown. And the -American female fellow passenger said, "Doesn't it seem as though he -could get something nearer a man's job?" Yet he was such a pleasant -person. And they're not common to be met on the highway. - -From Fort Augustus on there are memories of the Risings, chiefly of -Prince Charlie, in the glorious before, in the tragic aftermath. He came -hither as conqueror, that mere stripling, belted and plaided as a Royal -Stewart, and retook his kingdom. The coat skirts of Johnny Cope you can -still see in retreat to Inverness, if you look well. From Gairlochy the -way leads to Glenfinnan where he raised his Standard, and the Castle of -Lochiel, ruined because of him. And hither he came, after Culloden. At -Fort Augustus the head of Roderick Mackenzie was presented to the -Butcher as that of Prince Charles, and near Gairlochy, and near -Lochiel--"beware of the day"--is the "cage" of Cluny MacPherson where -he harboured during those days of red pursuit. And the thirty thousand -pounds are yet to be paid for betrayal. - -Loch Oich, littlest and highest, with wooded islands and heavily wooded -shores, larches and delicate silver birches, is the exquisite bit of the -way. And here stands Invergarry Castle, which saw Prince Charles when -first he came gallant from the West and Moidart, and saw him when last -he came defeated to the West. - -Laggan Avenue runs between Loch Oich and Loch Lochy, a narrow waterway -with soft fir-trees lining the way in a most formal fashion; it has a -peculiar magic when the mist has shut out the rounded hills of the -higher background. - -Banavie--to move according to the schedule--is at the top of the locks, -three miles of them, Neptune's staircase, leading down to Fort William -and to the sea. The railroad is the swifter way and breaks the journey, -and passes the ruins of Inverlochy. It is a place to which French and -Spanish merchants came in far days of the Seven Hundreds. But better, a -place where Montrose won a victory. - -[Illustration: INVERGARRY CASTLE.] - -Here took place (1645) the battle between the Marquis of Montrose and -the Marquis of Argyle, and so splendidly that Montrose and Charles -thought the kingdom was coming back to its own. Montrose had started -through the Great Glen for Inverness, but hearing that the Campbells -were massing at Inverlochy, he turned back, and gave battle. The victory -was so tremendously with the royal Montrose that he wrote a letter to -Charles, then negotiating with the parliamentarians, and Charles -believed so that he broke off the parleying-- - -"Give me leave, after I have reduced this country, and conquered from -Dan to Beersheba, to say to Your Majesty, as David's general to his -master, 'Come thou thyself, lest this country be called by my name.'" - -In five years, the two were both beheaded, one at Whitehall in London, -the other at the Tolbooth in Edinburgh, the Marquis sixteen months later -than the King. "To carry honour and fidelity to the grave." - -At Inverlochy looks down the mountain of them all, Ben Nevis, taller -than Ben Muich Dhui, taller than Snowdon or Helvellyn. And from its -vantage point, the Observatory Tower, one may look over all the -territory in many directions whither one proposes to go; the routes can -be planned from this top of Scotland. As Sir Archibald Geikie mapped it -in his glorified geography-- - -"While no sound falls upon his ears, save now and then a fitful moaning -of the wind among the snow-rifts of the dark precipice below, let him -try to analyze some of the chief elements of the landscape. It is easy -to recognize the more marked heights and hollows. To the south, away -down Loch Linnhe, he can see the hills of Mull and the Paps of Jura -closing the horizon. Westward, Loch Eil seems to lie at his feet, -winding up into the lonely mountains, yet filled twice a day with the -tides of the salt sea. Far over the hills, beyond the head of the loch, -he looks across Arisaig, and can see the cliffs of the Isle of Eigg and -the dark peaks of Rum, with the Atlantic gleaming below them. Farther to -the northwest the blue range of the Coolin Hills rises along the -skyline, and then, sweeping over all the intermediate ground, through -Arisaig and Knoydart and the Clanranald country mountain rises after -mountain, ridge beyond ridge, cut through by dark glens, and varied here -and there with the sheen of lake and tarn. Northward runs the mysterious -straight line of the Great Glen, with its chain of locks. Then to east -and south the same billowy sea of mountain tops stretches out as far as -eye can follow it--the hills and glens of Lochaber, the wide green -strath of Spean, the gray corries of Glen Treig and Glen Nevis, the -distant sweep of the moors and mountains of Brae Lyon and the Perthshire -Highlands, the spires of Glencoe, and thence again to the blue waters of -Loch Linnhe." - -This may not be "the roof of the world," but it is a very high gable. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -THE WESTERN ISLES - - -_Oban_ - -There is something theatrical about Oban, artificial, and therefore -among Scottish towns Oban is a contrast. It is as uncovenanted as--joy! -And it is very beautiful, "the gay and generous port of Oban," as -William Winter calls it, set in its amphitheater of high hills, and -stretching about its harbour, between confining water and hill. An -embankment holds it in, and at twilight the scimeter drawn from the -scabbard of night flashes with light, artificial, but as wonderful at -Oban as at Monte Carlo. One is content to be, at Oban. Quite certainly -Oban has centered its share of Scottish history and romance, history -from the time of the Northmen, romance from the time resurrected by -Scott and continued indigenously by William Black. But in Oban and round -about Oban, one is quite content to take that past as casually as one -takes yesterday. - -It is very interesting, very fascinating; one wakes now and then, here -and there, to keen remembrance, to a sensitiveness that so much beauty -could not be only for to-day and of to-day, that men must have come -hither to claim it or dispute possession of it in the beginning of time. -Of course the Stewarts came out of this Island West! But, either because -one has made a round circle of Scotland from out of romantic Edinburgh, -or because one has come from practical Glasgow and is about to make a -round circle of Scotland, Oban has a peculiarly satisfying and yet -undemanding beauty. - -It is set for pageantry; life is always, has been always, a procession -at Oban. If ever the history of Scotland is set forth as pageant--I do -not know that this has ever been done, but it should be--it should be -staged at Oban, on the esplanade. - -Life moves swiftly through the streets and across the waters. For it is -a place that all the world comes to, in its search for the next -beautiful place. Steamers from the Caledonian Canal and Inverness, -steamers from the Crinan Canal and Glasgow, coaches from the near -country, railroads from the east and north, bring the world to Oban. And -from Oban boats move out on the Firth of Lorne and the Sound of Mull -and through the broken waters of the Hebrides, out into the unbroken -waters of the Atlantic. People come and go, come and go. It is not that -Oban is filled with people. Very often the inns are filled and the -careless traveler may seek eagerly if not vainly for a lodging for the -night, to find his landlady a Campbell of the Campbells. - -But there is seldom a feeling of too many people in Oban. They come and -go, night and morning. They do not stay. In the evening the esplanade -may be filled and the crowd very gala; the circle of lights marking the -embankments, steamers lying at their ease after the day's work, looking, -yes, like pirates, retired pirates, rakish, with tapering spars and -brave red funnels, the soft plash of oars out on the bay and the moving -lights of the rowboats, with perhaps--no quite certainly--a piper, or -two or three, dressed in tartan, more like the red and black of the -Campbells in this historic region of Argyle, piping up bravely "The -Campbells are Coming, yoho, yoho." - -It is lively in the evening, there is always a touch of pageantry. Yet -Oban is a very good place in which to stay and make the little foot -excursions that penetrate only a few miles into the circumurban -territory. The most constrained walker may find rich foot-interest out -of Oban; nowhere do comfort and beauty and story combine in more -continuous lure. Easy and attainable is Dunolly Castle, much more -attainable than it was in the old days when the Lord of the Isles made -his permanent seat here, and defied the world and the king; more -attainable now than when Scott came this way seeking "copy" and "colour" -and declaring "nothing can be more beautifully wild than Dunolly." -To-day Dunolly is beautiful, but scarcely wildly beautiful; that is, in -comparison with other wild castles of this wild West; and very -attainable, the walk being provided with seats all the way, casual "rest -and be thankfuls," of the municipal corporation. - -But beyond Dunolly, four miles of good highway, with Loch Linnhe -breaking magnificently on the eye, and Loch Etive reaching off endlessly -into the deep purple, is Dunstaffnage, which, before Stirling, or Perth, -or Edinburgh, was capital of Scotland and the place of destiny. Very -redoutable it sits on its high crag, as picturesque a castle as there is -in the world--and we are in a land of castles picturesquely set. The -walls above the waters lift themselves in lofty height, and promise to -remain, with their great thickness presented to the consuming world. It -is still towered for strength and scope, and looks its part of royal -residence. Here was found the Stone of Destiny--after Jacob or another -had carried this Jacobite sleeping pillow hither from Palestine. Kenneth -McAlpine, somewhat sacrilegiously, carried the Stone away to Perth. And -Edward sacrilegiously carried it down to Westminster, where George V sat -on it, in 1911, or nearly on it, so as to prove his destined right. - -Bruce took the castle from the Lord of Lorne, at what time he was taking -all the castles of Scotland. And even The Bruce in his busy days of -castle-storming, must have paused in this height, at these bastions, to -look over this western world and decide that it was good and should be -added to his Scottish world. Across Loch Linnhe he could see the bens of -Morven and of Appin, and up Loch Etive, Ben Cruachan--even as you and I. -The Highlands and the Islands are still primitive, man dwindles here, -and the world becomes what it was before the Sixth Day. - -But The Bruce did not see these brass cannon from a wreck of the Armada, -The Bruce lived too far before that great day to see the coast "strewn -with the ruined dream of Spain." And he was too early for the ancient -ruined Gothic chapel of much austere beauty which stands near. - -It is from Pulpit Hill that Oban gives the best view of all the lyric -lay of this water and land world; on a clear day when the wind is from -the west, when sunshine has been drenching the world, and when the sun -is about to sink behind Ben More. Pulpit Hill is a wooded steep bluff to -the east of Oban, at its foot parklike drives and forest-embowered -cottages with their windows open to the sea, with rich roses filling the -air and flaunting fuchias filling the eye. It is an easy climb, even -after a day of Scotch-seeing in the backward of the land. - -Here one may sit and meditate on the life and character of David McCrae, -to whom the pulpit is dedicated. Or one may look over the land and -"soothly swear was never yet a scene so fair." Or, to borrow again from -that same Scottish scene painter, and another scene--"One burnished -sheet of living gold." - -The eye runs far out over the world, across the Bay of Oban, across the -Island of Kerrera, across the Island of Mull set against the late sky, -and over to Lismore which lies shining and tender against the deepening -purple background of Morven. The sun casts slant rays across the land -and across the bay, bathing the far land in tender lilac, the sea in -steely blue, while Kerrera lies in patches of dark and light, a -farmhouse sharp against a rose mist that rises in shallow places and -quickly fades, leaving all the world purple in hue. Shepherd lads and -shepherd dogs may be seen at this last moment preparing to watch the -flocks by night, and long horned shaggy cattle browse at peace in the -fading light. Flocks of birds fly over, starlings in scattered black -patches, sea swallows poising for prey, and sea gulls resting on the -wave after a weary day. Everything is at peace. - -Two longer excursions one must make from Oban; to Loch Awe, to Glencoe. -Each is possible in a day, and yet a night in Glencoe is almost -imperative if one would be played upon by its full tragic compass; and a -lifetime of summers would not exhaust Loch Awe. - -The Loch I would visit; because of its beauty; and because of Kilchurn -Castle, which is picturesque in fact as well as in picture, on its -densely wooded island with its broken outline lying against the farther -mountain; because of Ardchonnel Castle, ivy covered, and "it's a far cry -to Loch Awe"; because of Fraoch-Eilean (isle of heather) which is the -island of Ossian's Hesperides; and because, capitally because, -Innishail is the island where Philip Gilbert Hamerton established his -camp through so many summers and through a number of Scottish winters. - -[Illustration: KILCHURN CASTLE.] - -One must belong, oh, quite to "another generation," to admit any debt of -instruction or pleasure to Philip Gilbert Hamerton. I do not think that -this generation knows him, hardly as a name. But when I was young, -collegiately young, Hamerton was an authority on life and art, and a -preceptor of beauty. And, if one read "The Intellectual Life," then, of -course, one read the rest of him. And so, one came to Loch Awe before -one came to Loch Awe. - -To the lake I went quite shamelessly on train. But repenting half way, -over-awed by Ben Cruachan, as who should not be, I left the train at the -"platform" and won the memory on foot. The mountain looks as high and as -mighty as a Rocky, and the white foaming threads of falls, hundreds of -feet high, dashed down the sides in a true "Rocky" splendour; like those -on the Cut bank or the Piegan trails in Glacier Park, yet not quite so -high. I did not climb Ben Cruachan to look on the Atlantic--but I have -not made my last journey to Scotland. On foot and alone, I threaded "the -dark pass of Brandir," and felt in my blood and bone that something in -me ancestral had been there before. Perhaps we inherit where we -hero-worship. In any event, Sir William Wallace went through this defile -in 1300, and King Robert Bruce in 1310, with his faithful friend Sir -James Douglass, fighting John of Lorn (the dead are still heaped beneath -these gray cairns), and going on to take Dunstaffnage. Sir Walter Scott -came here when he sought environ for "The Highland Widow." - -On one side is the sheer cliff which guards the foot of Ben Cruachan. On -the other the rapid awesome dash of the River Awe. "You will not find a -scene more impressive than the Brandir Pass, where the black narrowing -water moves noiselessly at midnight between its barren precipices, or -ripples against them when the wind wails through its gates of war." - -In the Loch lies the island of Innishail, still green, and not less -solitary than when Hamerton entertained travelers, unaware of his -identity. It still carries old gravestones, for islands in the far days -were the only safe places, safe for the dead as for the living; war and -ravage would pass them by. Throughout this western land you will find -island graveyards, and the procession of quiet boats carrying the dead -to their rest must have been a better expression than can be had by -land. - -From here one sees Ben Cruachan to advantage, even as one saw it in 1859 -with Hamerton. - -"At this moment the picture is perfect. The sky has become an exquisite -pearly green, full of gradations. There is only one lonely cloud, and -that has come exactly where it ought. It has risen just beyond the -summit of Cruachan and pauses there like a golden disk behind a saint's -white head. But this cloud is rose-colour, with a swift gradation to -dark purple-gray. Its under edge is sharply smoothed into a clearly-cut -curve by the wind; the upper edge floats and melts away gradually in the -pale green air. The cloud is shaped rather like a dolphin with its tail -hidden behind the hill. The sunlight on all the hill, but especially -towards the summit, has turned from mere warm light to a delicate, -definite rose-colour; the shadows are more intensely azure, the sky of a -deeper green. The lake, which is perfectly calm, reflects and -reverberates all this magnificence. The islands, however, are below the -level of the sunshine, and lie dark and cold, the deep green Scotch firs -on the Black Isles telling strongly against the snows of Cruachan." - -It was even as Hamerton had told me so long ago, a trifle different in -July from what he saw it in December, but equal in magnificence, and the -outlines had not changed in a half-century. - -And so I did not hesitate to go with Hamerton to Glencoe, lovely and -lonely and most terrible glen. There is such a thing as being haunted, -the dead do cry for revenge, the evil that men do does live after them. - -It is a wide valley, yet closed in by great granite precipices, for safe -guarding against betrayal. The first section of the strath is calm -enough, human, green, habitable, with Loch Leven, a branch of Loch -Etive, sparkling in the sun. The second wide opening is terrible as -massacre, not green, very stern, and wild as Scottish nature, human or -not, can become. Even the little clachan of the Macdonalds seems not to -welcome the world except on suspicion. And that murder, that -assassination (February 14, 1692) when William was king--William who -might have been "great" except for Boyne and Glencoe--still fills the -memory. - -Hamerton painted the picture--"In the vastness of the valley, over the -dim, silver stream that flowed away into its infinite distance, brooded -a heavy cloud, stained with a crimson hue, as if the innocent blood shed -there rose from the earth even yet, to bear witness against the -assassins who gave the name of Glen Coe such power over the hearts of -men. For so long as history shall be read, and treachery hated, that -name, Glen Coe, shall thrill mankind with undiminished horror! The story -is a century old now (1859). The human race has heard it talked of for -over a hundred years. But the tale is as fresh in its fearful interest -as the latest murder in the newspapers." - -Yet, a half century still later, I have heard those who declared Glencoe -lovely and not terrible. No doubt the generation does not read history -and does not feel story. - -We did not go on to the King's House, built in the days of King William, -when roads were being driven through the Highlands in order that they -might be held to a doubtful Stewart sovereignty. For we had read how -Hamerton thought it more than enough to drink a glass here, and we -doubted not he had read of the trials of Dorothy Wordsworth, sheets that -must be dried for hours before the beds could be made, the one egg for -breakfast, and--could we have found that china cup that Dorothy forgot? -Rather, we chose to return down the lake side for another look at the -red roofs of the home of Lord Strathcona, that wizard of the nineteenth -century, who had left Scotland with only his wits and returned from -America with his millions and a title. - - -_Iona_ - -There is no pilgrimage which can be taken to any shrine excelling -pilgrimage to Iona. And all the pilgrim way is lined with memory and -paved with beauty. - -On almost every promontory stand ruined castles, not so frequent as the -watch towers on the Mediterranean heights, and therefore not so -monotonous. One knows that each of these, as of those, has had its -history, and here one ponders that history, perhaps tries to remember -it, or, tries to evoke it. Dunolly which we visited in the day's drift -from Oban stood up on the right with the city still in view. But it is -when the Firth opens into the Sound that the glory of the water-world of -the West comes on you. - -[Illustration: AROS CASTLE.] - -The Sound of Mull is, so Sir Walter has said, "the most striking water -of the Hebrides." It is very lovely in this shell-pink light of early -morning, it could not have looked lovelier when Sir Walter estimated it. -The hills begin to stand boldly forth, for the gray mists of the morning -are rising. It is to be a fine day, which here because of its -exception means a brilliant sun-stricken day, and all things clear as -geography. But, at least once, one should see things one wishes always -to keep as material for remembrance and for imagination, not in the mist -dimly, but face to face like this. Or, as the Maid of Lorn in -Ardtornish, when she was led - - "To where a turret's airy head - Slender and steep and battled round, - O'erlooked, dark Mull! thy mighty Sound. - Where thwarting tides, with mingled roar - Part thy swarth hills from Morven's shore." - -On the left of Mull stands the grim Castle of Duart on its high rock, on -the right on Morven the Castle of Ardtornish, and Aros a little farther -on, and Kinlochalive at the top of the bay of the Loch--mighty were -these lords of the islands, and most mighty the Lord of the Isles. - -Perhaps--it has been suggested--Sir Walter overstated the might of the -Lord, the grandeur of the islands, the splendour of those thirteenth -century days. It depends on what light one views them in. - -Tobermory is the capital of Mull, and is a place of some resort. Like -all these little capitals it is set in the wilderness world, and what -one would like best to do instead of sailing past them is to stay with -them and go far into the backward. Perhaps traversing Mull as did McLeod -of Dare when he hunted so royally--and in such a moonstruck way; or -David Balfour when he was shipwrecked and walked through Mull; or the -Pennells when they sought to walk through and did not take pleasure in -it. It is the pilgrims who won their goal one chooses to remember--not -the defeated Pennells. And here--I am leaving Mull and Tobermory behind -me, perhaps for always. - -Suddenly one sweeps out into the Atlantic! The stretch is wide, oceanic, -although far and away there are islands, black lines thickening here and -there the horizon edge. The sea is exquisitely, deeply blue, like the -Mediterranean at its best. - -One passes Ardnamurchan point, the most westerly point of the mainland -of Great Britain, "Cape of the Great Seas"; how one loves the poetic -grandeur, the sufficing bigness of these names, and the faith, and the -limitations back of them; as though there should never be a greater -world with greater seas and mountains in the greater West. To the south -the boat passes Trehinish isles, black gems lying on the sea. - -[Illustration: ENTRANCE TO FINGAL'S CAVE.] - -Far out on the horizon lie Col and Tiree, low clouds in the line. "Col," -I heard the professorial people--from Oberlin--speak the name. "Col! So -that is Col!" they said to each other, "so that is Col off there!" -"Col," I said to myself, "so that is Col." And we all became related -through the great Doctor. - -One is bound to Staffa, incidentally, on the way to Iona, and for the -sake of Mendelssohn. Always afterward one is bound to Staffa because of -itself. If only one could have Staffa for one's self. But there are -always fellow travelers, there is no inn, no habitation here, not even a -shepherd's shieling, visible from the water. There are a few sheep, a -shepherd, and so there must be a shieling. To be marooned here--was it -here Stevenson understudied for Bill Gunn, and "cheese, toasted mostly"? - -The cave is truly wonderful, a superb cathedral nave, with dark basaltic -columns lifted in marvelous regularity, and arches lifting over with -groining the hand of God. - - "Nature herself it seemed would raise - A minster to her Maker's praise." - -The broken surfaces of the walls are in mosaic with green sea grasses -and gleaming limpets, and the floor is a shifting thing of surging -waves. The ocean thunders through the narrow gate as it has done since -the time Staffa began, and since Mendelssohn, a mighty organ surge, like -the "Overture to Fingal's Cave," and yet, more than that. To be here -alone, to be the shepherd of Staffa, and come to this cathedral, with -the might and mystery of the night about, and the winds and the sea -making symphony--life will always hold many things in possibility, which -cannot die! - -From the top of Staffa, if one flees the passengers a moment, may be -seen the islands lying about whose names are romance, Trehinish, and -Inchkenneth on Mull and Skerryvore, "the noblest of all deep sea light," -a mere speck on the far Atlantic--what vigils the man must have in the -house of light built by Stevenson's father; and on to the far north and -Skye; and to the near south and Iona. - - "Where is Duncan's body? - Carried to Colme-kill, - The sacred storehouse of his predecessors, - And guardian of their bones." - -Very definite was Shakespeare about these things. A more modern -antiquarian would have doubted, and sent us wandering from pillar to -post of royal burial places. But not the man who created what he -declared. Icolmkill--Iona--certainly. - -That such a little island could have had such a large history. It is so -small a place, yet a beautiful island withal, and with its cathedral, -now alas, "restored" and "reformed," and all its far sounding memories -of Columba. - -He came up from the South as we came down from the North, but his voyage -was across the wide seas to unknown goals; while we have the advantage -of having come after him to Iona. And yet, to Columba, valiant -adventuring saint, Iona nor any other place was unknown goal. There was -to him but one purpose in life, one goal. And he found it everywhere. - -It was a large life and simple, austere but with unlimited horizon, that -Columba lived here. It is a small exquisite life that is lived here -to-day. Or, perhaps my belief in its proportion and perfection came -because of contact with a certain two persons, man and woman, who had -taken this life to themselves. While being practical in that they sold -exquisite wares, in silver and gold and brass and bronze, each article, -large or little, carrying some Ionian insignia, still they must have a -very beautiful life, ever making things of beauty out of the historic -heritage of this island. It was a large accumulation of jeweled hints -they discovered here, in the ornamentations of the stones of Iona. They -have used them to very lovely ends. And they have lived the life of -memories and of the keen sea air. - -One may have forty minutes, or day after day in Iona. And, of course, -the reward and the intimacy is in proportion. It is a quiet fragment of -land, the little village with its white-washed cottages in prim lines, -and its simple cotters, perhaps a little more sophisticated than those -of other western islands because of their continuing contact with a -curious world; and yet these men and women and serious children live -here the year round, and in winter there is no world, and the Atlantic -thunders on the little land as though one beat of the wave would carry -all into the abyss, or smashes on the rough granite coast of Mull across -the strait. - -The western shore of the island is cruel, even on a summer day. And if -the "merry men" ran their violent ways on the shore of Mull, there are -other Merry Men just as merry, just as lurking. As McLeod of Dare saw -it-- - -"Could anything have been more beautiful than this magnificent scene ... -the wildly rushing seas, coming thunderingly on the rocks, or springing -so high in the air that the snow-white foam showed black against the -glare of the sky; the near islands gleaming with a touch of brown on -their sunward side; the Dutchman's Cap with its long brim and conical -center, and Lunga also like a cap with a shorter brim and a higher peak -in front, becoming a trifle blue. And then Col and Tiree lying like a -pale strip on the far horizon; while far away in the north the mountains -of Rum and Skye were faint and spectral in the haze of sunlight. Then -the wild coast around, with its splendid masses of granite; and its -spare grass a brown-green in the warm sun, and its bays of silver sand; -and its sea birds whiter than the clouds that came sailing over the -blue." - -On many of these western islands, and the northern, and it is said -particularly on the far northern Shetlands, there are some dark somber -faces remaining over from the Armada. The sea has never been kind; it -breaks the rocks, it breaks men. - -There are low-lying hills, the chief is Dun I, there are pasture lands, -and still there are fields of wheat and clover. Just before he died, -Columba was carried out to see the men at work in the fields. No doubt -he lifted his eyes and looked around, on his little island, and the -great sea, and the great world beyond. No doubt he wished he might live -longer and labour farther. St. Columba who carried the Gospel and his -gentle Irish gospel from the sixth century of Ireland into the far North -until it swung round and met in Durham and York the Gospel and the -culture coming up from Rome; and that neither so polished nor so -Christian. Yes, even Columba regretted leaving the world behind him, -though he was going to the other world. - -Yes, I am certain he regretted leaving the island world behind him. Did -he not sing of his longing-- - - "Delightful would it be to me to be in _Uchd Ailiun_ - On the pinnacle of a rock, - That I might often see - The face of the ocean; - That I might hear the song of the wonderful birds, - Source of happiness; - That I might hear the thunder of the crowding waves - Upon the rocks; - At times at work without compulsion-- - That would be delightful; - At times plucking dulse from the rocks; - At times fishing." - -Thirteen hundred years ago; and the song is undimmed, and the world has -not faded. The Port of the Coracle on the far side is still open to -boats adventuring across pleasant or perilous seas. The very rock on -which Columba landed, the traveler seeking the subtle transubstantiation -from the past may stand on. And there is the White Beach of the Monks, -where the companions of Columba paced to and fro in those days and in -this lovely land that seems too far away to be believed in. - -[Illustration: CATHEDRAL OF IONA AND ST. MARTIN'S CROSS.] - -The entire island is the shrine of the Saint, and not only the cathedral -of Iona. In truth this particular church dates from six hundred years -later than Columba, six hundred years backward from us. The crosses that -stand in the cemetery of St. Oran, St. Martin's and the Maclean, the -only two left out of nearly four hundred, cannot date much farther back -than this, or than "gentle Duncan." There is a long line of graves, each -with its aged granite slab, of the kings, Norwegian and Irish and -Scottish, of those early centuries. I do not remember that I saw the one -that speaks of Duncan. But I do remember that the carvings were very -curious and often very fascinating, the "pattern" intricate and -intriguing. - -Once the cathedral was a place of magic, an unroofed broken shrine, -where the winds might wander in search of the past, and where the -moonlight might shine through as lovely a casement, tracery as -exquisite, as at fair Melrose. If the generations coming six hundred -years after us are to know of St. Columba, and not to reproach us for -our coöperation with time the vandal, these roofs, this protection, must -be afforded. Still, the gate is so close locked to-day that even Joseph -Pennell could not steal in, and so closely watched that no black lamb or -ram or other hobgoblin could affright Miss Gertrude White or cause her -to cease loving the daring McLeod of Dare. - -Yet, if one resolves as did Boswell, to leave the close inspection to -Dr. Johnson, and "to stroll among them at my ease, to take no trouble to -investigate minutely, and only receive the general impression of solemn -antiquity," one will come upon much that is of particular impression, -like the carvings about and on the capitals, with the early grace of the -later Italians; quite worth careful preserving. And here is the altar, -and I doubt not at this very spot--church shrines continue in this -steadfast Scotland--Columba knelt before the God whose worship he had -brought over the seas, and was to carry still farther over land and -seas. There may be one shrine in the Christian world more sacred. But -not more than one. Dr. Johnson is still quite right--"The man is little -to be envied whose patriotism would not gain force upon the plains of -Marathon, or whose piety would not grow warmer among the ruins of Iona." - -The storm did not come, although we waited three days for it. Nothing -but calm in the island of Iona, and peace on the deep of the Atlantic; -tender dawns, still high noons, twilights of soft visible gray that -lasted over to the next morning; a land of hushed winds and audible -sounds, the seas lying like glass. - -Not even on a Sunday morning when in a coracle, or some such smaller -boat than one usually cares to venture, perhaps a lug, whatever that may -be, we accompanied the clergyman to the mainland of Mull, and watched -the stern sad faces of these far away folk as they listened to a very -simple sermon of an old simple story. I remembered that at Earraid, -Robert Louis Stevenson had been interested in the religious services -held for the workmen who were cutting stone for a lighthouse building by -Thomas Stevenson. From these people religion will go very late, if at -all. Surely men and women need what Columba brought hither, now as ever. - -And because of David Balfour I walked a little way into Mull, which -still must look as he saw it, for except for the roadway it looked as -though I were the first who had ever ventured that way since time and -these rough granite heaps began. - - "Sing me a song of a lad that is gone, - Say, could that lad be I? - Merry of soul he sailed on a day - Over the sea to Skye. - - "Mull was astern, Rum on the port, - Egg on the starboard bow; - Glory of youth glowed in his soul: - Where is that glory now? - - "Give me again all that was there, - Give me the sun that shone! - Give me the eyes, give me the soul, - Give me the lad that's gone!" - - - - -CHAPTER X - -THE LAKES - - -All the world goes to the Trossachs. Yet there are only two kinds of -people who should go, and they are as widely separated as the poles; -those who are content and able to take the Trossachs as a beautiful bit -of the world, like any lake or mountain country which is unsung, and -then they will not take it but merely look at it; and those who know the -Trossachs as theirs, The Trossachs, who can repeat it all from-- - - "The stag at eve had drunk his fill - Where danced the moon on Monan's rill, - And deep his midnight lair had made - In lone Glenartney's hazel shade. - -On to - - "The chain of gold the king unstrung - The links o'er Malcolm's neck he flung - Then gently drew the golden band - And laid the clasp in Ellen's hand." - -Half knowledge is exasperating to those who have whole knowledge; and -half love--half love is maddening, should lead to massacre by those -whose love is all in all. - -I cannot remember when I did not know "The Lady of the Lake"--which, of -course, is the Trossachs. It is as though I knew it when I first knew -speech, lisped in numbers and the numbers came. It was the first -grown-up book I ever owned, and I own the copy yet. It is not a first -edition, this my first and only edition. I presume that in those far -away days when it was given to me, "a Christmas gift"--I always chose to -receive it from my Scottish grandmother, though she had been dead thirty -years before I came--I might have had a first edition for a song; but -the preciousness of first editions had not yet become a fetich. Since -then I have looked with respect and affection on that impress of "1810." -I have never looked on it with longing. So much better, that first -edition of mine, an ordinary sage-green cloth-bound book, with -ornamental black and gold title, such as the inartistic Eighties sent -forth; I do like to note that the year of its imprint is the year of my -possession. It has not even a gilt edge, I am pleased to state. The -paper is creamy, the ink is not always clear. And because it went -through one fire and flood, the pages have little brown ripples, magic -marginal notes. There is not a penciled margin in the whole volume. -That, in a book owned by one who always reads with a pencil in hand, is -beyond understanding! And yet it was many and many a year ago, in a -kingdom by the sea. Memory was tremendously active then, not quite the -memory of a Macaulay, but still one reading, or at least one and a half, -was sufficient to thrust the rimes of these two-edged couplets into -unsurrendering possession. Criticism was in abeyance; there is not even -a mark among the notes. I cannot be certain that I read them. Who reads -notes at the age of eight? - -I remember how my acquaintance began with "The Lady of the Lake," even -before I read it. In those days there was little literature for -children, and there was prejudice against that which was provided. There -was especial prejudice in my own household. I think my teacher in school -may have shared it. If he were an adult he would read, ostensibly to us, -but for himself, something he could tolerate. Yes, it was he; an -exception in those days, for in the public schools men seldom taught in -"the grades." - -He must have been a young man, not more than nineteen or twenty, waiting -to mature in his profession. And Scotch, as I think it now; not only -because his name was Kennedy, but because of his Highland dark eyes and -hair, and because of certain uncanny skill in mathematics--as I thought -who had not even a moiety--and because, oh, very much because, of the -splendid tussle he had--tulzie! that's the word--a very battle royal to -my small terrified fascinated vision, there on the school-room floor, -with the two Dempsey boys, who were much older than the rest of us; they -must have been as old as fourteen! One merited the punishment and was -getting it. The other, with clan loyalty, came to his rescue. And the -Highlander, white to the lips, and eyes black-and-fire, handled them -both. - -Oh, it was royal understudy to the combat at Coilantogle ford-- - - "Ill fared it then with Roderick Dhu - When on the field his targe he threw." - - -_The Trossachs_ - -To write a guide to the Trossachs--that has been done and done more than -once; done with much minutiæ, with mathematics, with measurement; to-day -it is possible to follow the stag at eve, and all the rest of it, in all -its footsteps; to follow much more accurately than did even Sir Walter; -to follow vastly more accurately than did James Fitz James. - -For, in the first place, the world is not so stupendous a place as it -was in the days of Fitz James, or of Sir Walter. The Rockies and the -Andes have been sighted, if not charted, and beside them the Grampians -look low enough. Yet, fortunately, the situation can never be "beside -them." The most remembering traveler has crossed the seas and buried his -megalomanian American memories, let it be hoped, in the depths of the -Atlantic. Neither Rockies nor Andes carry so far or so rich memories. -Sir Walter has never projected an imaginary Roderick Dhu or a King -errant into any of the majesty or loveliness of those empty lakes and -mountains. I can imagine in what spirit the Pennells came to Loch Lomond -and declared that it "looked like any other lake." Dr. Johnson was quite -right, sir. "Water is the same everywhere," to those who think water is -water. - -Of course the traveler should not come upon the land by way of Lomond. -Fitz James came from Stirling. He came to subdue the Highlands. They -were seething in revolt--for no other reason than that Highlanders so -long as they were Highlanders had to seethe and revolt. And if we would -subdue the Highlands or have them subdue us, we must follow the silver -horn of the Knight of Snowdoun when he rode out of Stirling; to subdue, -yes, and to adventure. - -Yet perhaps it is better to have possessed Scotland, en tour, and to go -back to Stirling with Fitz James, as a captive, but bearing the golden -ring-- - - "Ellen, thy hand--the ring is thine, - Each guard and usher knows the sign." - -So one leaves Glasgow, the unromantic, threading through its miles of -prosperity and unbeauty, passing Dumbarton where Wallace was prisoner, -passing the river Leven, which ought to interest us, for once its "pure -stream" on his own confession laved the "youthful limbs" of Tobias -Smollett, until the open country is reached and Loch Lomond swims into -sight. - - "By yon bonnie banks, and by yon bonnie braes - Where the sun shines bright on Loch Lomond, - There me and my true love spent mony happy days, - On the bonnie bonnie banks of Loch Lomond." - -No, the Pennells might criticize "me and my true love." As for us, we -mean to be romantic and sentimental and unashamed and ungrammatical. And -spend mony days; Harry Lauder would spell and spend it, "money." - -[Illustration: DUMBARTON CASTLE.] - -The lake opens wide and free in the lowland country of Balloch. At the -left lies Glenfruin, the Glen of Wailing, where took place the terrible -clan battle between the MacGregors and Colquhouns, where the MacGregors -were victorious. But as Scott wrote, "the consequences of the battle of -Glenfruin were very calamitous to the family of MacGregor." Sixty widows -of the Colquhouns rode to Stirling each on a white palfrey, a "choir of -mourning dames." James VI, that most moral monarch, let loose his -judicious wrath, the very name of the clan was proscribed, fire and -sword pursued the MacGregors. The Highlanders are dauntless. There still -exist MacGregors and with the MacGregor spirit. And who that heard the -Glasgow choir sing the superb "MacGregors Gathering"--Thain' a -Grigalach--but will gather at the cry, "The MacGregor is come!" - - "The moon's on the lake, and the mist's on the brae, - And the Clan has a name that is nameless by day; - Then gather, gather, gather, Grigalach! - Gather, gather, gather. - - "If they rob us of name and pursue us with beagles, - Give their roofs to the flame, and their flesh to the eagles, - Then vengeance, vengeance, vengeance, Grigalach! - Vengeance, vengeance, vengeance. - - "Through the depths of Loch Katrine the steed shall career, - O'er the peak of Ben Lomond the galley shall steer, - Then gather, gather, gather, Grigalach! - Gather, gather, gather." - -There are twenty-four islands marooned in this part of the lake; for -according to the old legend, one of these was a floating island and so -to chain one they chained all. The first island is Inch Murrin, at which -I looked with due respect, for it is a deer park of the present Duke of -Montrose. I know not if he is descended from The Montrose, or from -Malcolm Graeme and Fair Ellen, but let us believe it; it does not do to -smile at the claims of long descent in this persisting Scotland. The -Duke lives in Buchanan Castle, near the lake. Also he owns Ben Lomond. -Also--I read it in "More Leaves" of Queen Victoria's Journal--"Duke of -Montrose to whom half of Loch Lomond belongs." - -It was here that Dorothy Wordsworth looked and recorded, "It is an -outlandish scene; we might have believed ourselves in North America." -And so, I knew the Lomond country for my own. - -The steep, steep sides of Ben Lomond are in view at the top of the Loch, -but the ballad may well have contented itself with the sides. For I -know one traveler who wished to be loyal to the Ben, and having seen it -in 1889, and not seen it for the thick Scotch mist, returned again in -1911, and had her only day of rain in sailing across Loch Lomond. The -ballad turned into a coronach-- - - "But the broken heart kens nae second spring - Though resigned we may be while we're greetin'. - Ye'll tak the highway and I'll tak the low way." - -It is all MacGregor country, that is to say Rob Roy country. We are -bound for Inversnaid, so was he. All about Lomond he had his ways, Rob -Roy's prison, Rob Roy's cave, Rob Roy's grave, and all. And though there -are other claims hereabout, and although Robert Bruce himself preceded -Robert Roy in the cave, such is the power of the Wizard that it is the -later Robert one permits to inhabit these places. - -We remembered that Queen Victoria had preferred the roads to the -steamer. So we left the boat at Rowardennan pier. Not to walk the -pleasant ambling highways, that by some good public fortune run near the -"bonny bonny banks," and, in spite of the Duke of Montrose, make the -lake belong to us, to whom, of course, it does belong, but to walk to -the top of the Ben. - -The path, if one keeps the path, and he should, is safe, the gradation -easy; an American is like to smile at the claims of long ascent of a -mountain which is but 3192 feet from the sea to top. But let one wander -ever little from the path, attempt to make a new and direct descent, and -let one of those mists which hang so near a Scotch day actually descend -upon the top of the Ben--it is not the mildest sensation to find one's -foot poised just at the edge of a precipice. It is not well to defy -these three thousand feet because one has climbed higher heights. Ben -Lomond can do its bit. And it can furnish a panorama which the taller -Ben Nevis cannot rival, cannot equal. The Castle Rocks of Stirling and -of Edinburgh, on a clean clear day; nearer, Ben Ledi and Ben Venue, -names to thrill a far remembrance; Ben Cruachan, bringing the Mull -country from near remembrance. And farther across, pale but apparent, -the mountains of Ireland. A marvel of vision. - -At Inversnaid one is again with Dorothy Wordsworth. It was here or -hereabouts that William dropped the package of lunch in the water. So -like William! I wonder Dorothy let him carry it. It was here William saw -the Highland Girl, and wrote those lovely lines of her-- - - "Now thanks to Heaven! that of its grace - Hath led me to this lonely place. - Joy have I had; and going hence - I bear away my recompense. - In spots like these it is we prize - Our memory; feel that she hath eyes.... - For I, methinks, till I grow old, - As fair before me shall behold, - As I do now, the cabin small, - The lake, the bay, the waterfall; - And thee, the spirit of them all!" - -And now one really begins to thrill. One is really going to Loch -Katrine, to the Trossachs. The road is preferable, five miles of -foot-pleasure, as against the filled coaches with perhaps "gallant -grays," and certainly fellow travelers who quote and misquote the lines. -No, it shall be on foot, up through the steep glen of Arklet water, out -on the high open moor where the Highland cattle browse, with Ben -Voirlich constantly in view, and Ben Venue coming even to meet us; with -William and Dorothy Wordsworth and Coleridge walking beside us all the -way. (Dorothy always called it "Ketterine," but then, she came hither -seven years before "The Lady" was published.) - -The old Highland fort was a perplexity to the Wordsworths. William -thought it a hospice like those he had seen in Switzerland, and even -later when told it was a fort Dorothy did not quite believe. It was -built at the time of the Fifteen to keep caterans--of which Rob Roy was -one--in subjection. And the American looks with interest because here, -in his youth--which was all he ever had in truth--General Wolfe, who -fell on the Heights of Abraham but won Quebec, commanded the fort of -this Highland height. I could but wonder how the French travelers who -throng these Scotch highways feel when they remember this victor over -Montcalm. Now that they have fought together "somewhere in France," no -doubt they feel no more keenly than an Englishman at Bannockburn. - -There is not too much lure to keep one's mind and one's feet from Loch -Katrine. There was a piper on the way, tall and kilted in the tartan of -the MacGregor. (Helen MacGregor, wife of Rob Roy, was born at Loch -Arklet, and across the hill in Glengyle Rob Roy was born, conveniently.) -The piper piped most valiantly. I should like to have set him a -"blawin'" o' the pipes with our piper on the Caledonian loch, something -like the tilt which Alan Breck had with Robinoig, son of Rob Roy. - -[Illustration: LOCH KATRINE.] - -The road drops down to Stronachlachar. Through the hill defile one -catches the gleam, and quickly "the sheet of burnished gold" rolls -before the eye. It is more splendid than when Dorothy Wordsworth -viewed it, "the whole lake appeared a solitude, neither boat, islands, -nor houses, no grandeur in the hills, nor any loveliness on the shores." -Poor Dorothy! She was hungry and tired, and did not know where she -should lay her head. Later, next day, at the farther end, she loved it, -"the perfection of loveliness and beauty." - -As for us, it was early morning, we had breakfasted, fate could not harm -us, and we knew our way. We were approaching it from the direction -opposite to Majesty, the soft gray clouded stillness, early out of the -morning world. But Scott had seen this picture also-- - - "The summer's dawn reflected hue - To purple changed Loch Katrine blue; - Mildly and soft the western breeze - Just kissed the lake, just stirr'd the trees, - And the pleased lake, like maiden coy - Trembled but dimpled not for joy; - The mountain shadows on her breast - Were neither broken nor at rest; - In bright uncertainty they lie, - Like future joys to Fancy's eye. - The water-lily to the light - Her chalice rear'd of silver bright; - The doe awoke and to the lawn - Begemm'd with dewdrops, led her fawn. - The gray mist left the mountain side, - The torrent show'd its glistening pride, - Invisible in flecked sky, - The lark sent down her revelry; - The black-bird and the speckled thrush - Good morrow gave from brake and bush; - In answer coo'd the cushat dove, - Her notes of peace, and rest, and love." - -Here we hit upon a device to possess Loch Katrine, both "going and -coming," to see the lake at dawn, simply as beauty, and then to come -upon it as came Fitz James. With a glass of milk for fast-breaking--we -had had a substantial breakfast at Inversnaid, and this glass was but -for auld lang syne, a pledge of my companion to her early memories--we -set out for "far Loch Ard or Aberfoyle." - -I think had we known how very modern is this way which curves about the -west side of Katrine we might have shunned it. Certain the stag would -have done it. He did, you remember; refusing to charge upon Ben Venue, -and thus avoiding the future site of the Water Works of the Corporation -of the City of Glasgow. Perhaps Glasgow is the best equipped -municipality in the world. Yet, what city but Glasgow would have tapped -Loch Katrine to furnish water for Glaswegians! - -Our road ran in the deep defile that lies between the two great bens, -Lomond (3192) and Venue (2393). The top of Lomond was clear in the -increasing sunlight, but mists still skirted his feet; while Venue was -mist-clad from base to summit, the thin white veils tearing every now -and then, as they swayed against the pine trees jagged tops, and lifting -and then settling again. - -And soon, we were at "far Loch Ard." It is a lovely little bit of water; -we wondered why the stag was not tempted to turn aside hither--but then, -we remembered, the stag did know, did save himself. Fishermen were out -in their boats, and altogether we decided that if the stag did not come -here we should, in the distant time when we should spend a summer in -this Highland peace. - -Ard is little, but a large-in-little, a one-act play to Lomond's big -drama. We chose our "seat," and we hoped that the owner of The Glashart -would be gracious when we sent him word of his eviction. Glashart is a -short way above the pass of Aberfoyle where, to our pleasure, the troops -of Cromwell were defeated by Graham of Duchray. - -But this time, after twelve miles of walk, come noontide and a keen -appetite, like the stag who - - "pondered refuge from his toil" - -we were content to house ourselves in the hotel at Aberfoyle. We chose -the one called "Baillie Nicol Jarvie," because this is all Rob Roy -country. In truth we felt at home with the Baillie, and with the Forth -flowing in front of the town, and the old clachan of Aberfoyle marked by -a few stones. - -In the late afternoon of this already full day we found there was a -coach leaving for Lake Menteith which would return in the late twilight, -too late for dinner, but Baillie Nicol was kind and we could have supper -on our return. So we were off to Menteith, and to an old memory, -reaching back to the daughter of James Fitz James. But at this far -distance she seemed to belong to an older day. - -Menteith is a little lake, a fragment of the abundant blue of Scotland's -waters, and it is surrounded by hills that are heather clad; only the -southern shore is wooded. Near the southern shore lies anchored the -Island of Inchmahone--isle of rest--where once stood a priory, and now -only a few arches keep the shadowy memory in their green covert. The -stones of the dead lie about, for the Isle of Rest was an island of -burial. - -Hither came Mary Queen of Scots, when she was five years old, here for -an island of refuge, since the defeat at Pinkie meant that Henry VIII -was nearer and nearer the little life that stood between him and -Scotland's throne-- - - "O ye mariners, mariners, mariners, - That sail upon the sea, - Let not my father nor mother to wit, - The death that I maun die!" - -She came with her four Maries, and together they went to France, -together they made merry and made love at the French court, and, all -unscathed, they returned fifteen years later-- - - "Yestreen the queen had four Maries, - To-night she'll hae but three; - There was Marie Seton, and Marie Beatoun, - And Marie Carmichael and me--" - -It was as though she were lost from the world, as we went back in the -dimming day; almost the only time I have ever lost her since historic -memories came to be my own personal memories. And yet, I knew I should -find her again. Mary is one of the women who do not go into exile once -they have made harbour in the affections. - -Next day, half by a hill-road and half by a foot-path, with mountains -whose names were poems evoking the one poem of the region, with the far -view, and with birches closing in the highway now and then, and now and -then opening into a near-far view of glen and stream and strath and -path, we came to--The Trossachs. - -It is a walk of perhaps eight miles through a charming memory-haunted -land, lovely certainly, lonely; there were few people to be met with, -but there was no sense of desertion. It was a day of quick clouds, -rushing across a deep blue, compact white clouds which say nothing of -rain, and very vivid air, the surfaces and the shadows being closely -defined. The birch leaves played gleefully over the path as we left the -highway, and that sweet shrewd scent of the birch leaf, as I "pu'd a -birk" now and then, completed the thrill, the ecstasy--if one may be -permitted the extravagance. - - "But ere the Brig o' Turk was won - The headmost horseman rode alone, - Alone, but with unbated zeal--" - -Here I should take up the thread of the old poem and weave it entire. -But first because I had come adventuring, even like the Gudeman o' -Ballengeich, and taking my chances as they came along, and meeting no -Highland girl and no Fair Ellen, I did seek out lodgings in one of the -cottages which cluster about the foot of Glen Finglas, typical Highland -cottages. Not the kind, I regret and do not regret, which Dorothy -Wordsworth describes with such triumph, where William and Dorothy and -Coleridge put up--"we caroused our cups of coffee, laughing like -children," over the adventure; but still a cottage, with a single bed -room. These cottages, no doubt because artists now and then inhabit them -and because all the world passes by and because they are on Montrose -property, are what the artist and the poet mean by a cottage, -low-browed, of field stone, and rose-entwined. - -[Illustration: THE BRIG O' TURK.] - -The hurried traveler with no time to spare and no comforts, lodges at -the Trossachs hotel, which aspires to look like a Lady-of-the-Lake -Abbotsford, and is, in truth, of an awesome splendour like some Del -Monte or Ponce de Leon. - -There is a parish church--I heard the bell far off in the woods--near -the hotel, but standing mid - - "the copsewood gray - That waved and wept on Loch Achray." - -It waved gently, and wept not at all that peaceful Sunday morning when -we made our way by path and strath into the dell of peace. The people -coming from the countryside repossess their own, and of course the -tourists are not in the church, or if there, with a subdued quality. The -coaches do not run, and there fell a peace over all the too well known, -too much trodden land, which restored it to the century in which it -truly belongs. - -In the late afternoon, under that matchless sky which the wind had swept -clear of even rapid clouds--we were glad we could match it by no other -Scottish sky, and only by the sky which shone down when we first came to -the Lake, that æon ago--and by the scant two miles that lie between the -Brig and the Lake, "stepping westward," we followed the far memory till -it was present. - -The road leads through the forest beautifully, peacefully. If on that -early September day no birds sang, still one missed nothing, not even -the horn of the Knight of Snowdoun. The paths twine and retwine, through -this bosky birchen wood, with heather purple, and knee deep on either -side, and through the trees swift glimpses of the storied mountains. - -Suddenly the way changes, the ground breaks, rocks heap themselves, a -gorge appears,--it is the very place! - - "Dashing down a darksome glen, - Soon lost to hound and hunter's ken, - In the deep Trossachs' wildest nook - His solitary refuge took." - -I can never forget the thrill I had in the old schoolroom when Mr. -Kennedy first read the story and I knew that the stag had escaped. -I felt even more certain of it in this wild glen. Surely he must be in -there still. And so I refused to go and find him. - -[Illustration: _The Trossachs_] - -I could not discover where fell the gallant gray. I mean I was without -guide and could map my own geography out of my own more certain -knowledge. So I chose a lovely green spot--notwithstanding my -remembrance of "stumbling in the rugged dell"--encircled with oak and -birch, the shadows lying athwart it as they would write the legend. - - "Woe worth the chase, woe worth the day, - That costs thy life, my gallant gray." - -And then, by a very pleasant path, instead of the tortuous ladderlike -way which James Fitz James was forced to take, I came again to The Lake, -splendid in the evening as it had been mysterious in the morning. - - "The western waves of ebbing day - Roll'd o'er the glen their level way; - Each purple peak, each flinty spire, - Was bathed in floods of living fire. - But not a setting beam could glow - Within the dark ravine below, - Where twined the path in shadow hid, - Round many a rocky pyramid, - Shooting abruptly from the dell - Its thunder-splintered pinnacle." - -No shallop set out when I raised my imaginary horn and blew my imaginary -salute to the lovely isle. There were no boats to hire, on this Sunday, -and I was not Malcolm Græme to swim the space. But there it lay, bosky -and beautiful, a green bit of peace in a blue world. Nothing could rob -me of my memory of Loch Katrine, not even the very lake itself. - - -_Stirling_ - -Stirling stands up boldly--in the midst of Scotland. - -That is the feeling I had in coming on it by train from the West. -Highlanders coming on it from the North, English coming on it from the -South, must have seen even more conclusively that Stirling rises out of -the midst of Scotland. - -I should have preferred to approach it on foot. But then, this is the -only conquering way in which to make one's descent on any corner of the -world one seeks to possess; either on one's own valiant two feet or on -the resounding four feet of a battle charger. Alas, to-day one does -neither. But--there lies Stirling rising from the water-swept plain, -through the gray of a Scotch morning, entirely worthy of being "taken," -and looking completely the part it has played in Scottish history. - -Scotland is curiously provided with these natural forts, the Rocks of -Edinburgh and Dumbarton and Stirling. They have risen out of the plain, -for the defense and the contention of man. And because Stirling lies, -between East and West, between North and South, it has looked down on -more history, seen more armies advance and retreat than--any other one -place in the world? - -Standing upon its wind-swept battlements--I can never think that the -wind dies down on the heights of Stirling--one looks upon the panorama -of Scottish history. The Lomonds lie blue and far to the east, the -Grampians gray and stalwart to the north, and on the west the peaks of -the Highlands, Ben Lomond and all the hills that rampart "The Lady of -the Lake." All around the sky were ramparts of low-lying clouds, lifting -themselves here and there at the corners of the world into splendid -impregnable bastions. Stirling looks a part of this ground plan, of this -sky battlement. - -Soldiers, from yonder heights!--and you know the rest. From this height -you who are far removed from those our wars, a mere human speck in the -twentieth century look down on seven battlefields. Did Pharaoh see more, -or as much, from Cheops? The long list runs through a thousand years and -is witness to the significance of Stirling. - -Here, in 843, was fought the battle of Cambuskenneth, and the Painted -People fell back, and Kenneth, who did not paint, made himself king of -an increasing Scotland. - -Here, in 1297, was fought the battle of Stirling Bridge, and William -Wallace with a thousand men--but Scotsmen--defeated the Earl of Surrey -and the Abbot Cressingham with five thousand Englishmen. - -Here, in 1298, was fought the battle of Falkirk, and Wallace was -defeated. But not for long. Dead, he continued to speak. - -Here, in 1313, was fought the battle of Bannockburn, forty thousand -Scots against a hundred thousand English, Irish and Gascons. And The -Bruce established Scotland Forever. - -Here, in 1488, was fought the battle of Sauchieburn, the nobles against -James III, and James flying from the field was treacherously slain. - -Here, in 1715, was fought the battle of Sheriffmuir, when Mar and Albany -with all their men marched up the hill of Muir and then marched down -again. - -Here, in 1745, Prince Charles experienced one of his great moments; how -his great moments stand forth in the pathos, yes, and the bathos, of his -swift career. - -It is a tremendous panorama. - - "Scots, wha ha'e wi' Wallace bled! - Scots, wham Bruce has aften led!" - -I listened while the guide went through with the battle, which, of -course, is the Battle of Bannockburn. How The Bruce disposed his army to -meet the English host he knew was coming up from the south to relieve -the castle garrison; how they appeared at St. Ninians suddenly, and the -ever-seeing Bruce remarked to Moray, who had been placed in charge of -that defense--"there falls a rose from your chaplet"--it is almost too -romantic not to be apocryphal; and how Moray (who was the Randolph Moray -who scaled the crags at Edinburgh that March night) countered the -English dash for the castle and won out; how in the evening of the day -as King Robert was inspecting his lines for the battle of the to-morrow, -a to-morrow which had been scheduled the year before--"unless by St. -John's day"; they had then a sense of leisure--the English knight Sir -Henry de Bohun spurred upon him to single combat; it is worth while -listening to the broad Scots of the guide as he repeats his well-conned, -his well-worn, but his immortal story-- - - "High in his stirrups stood the King - And gave his battle-ax the swing, - Right on de Boune, the whiles he passed, - Fell that stern dint--the first, the last, - Such strength upon the blow was put, - The helmet crashed like hazel nut." - -And all the battle the next day, until King Edward rides hot-trod to -Berwick, leaving half his host dead upon this pleasant green field that -lies so unremembering to the south of the castle. There is no more -splendid moment in human history, unless all battles seem to you too -barbaric to be splendid. But it made possible a nation--and, I take it, -Scotland has been necessary to the world. - -If this is too overwhelming a remembrance, there is an opposite to this, -looking across the level lands of the Carse. The view leads past the -Bridge of Allan, on to Dunblane, near which is the hill of Sheriffmuir. -You can see the two armies in the distance of time and of the plain, -creeping on each other unwittingly--and the guide, too, is glad to turn -to a later and less revered moment-- - - "Some say that we wan, - Some say that they wan, - And some say that nane wan at a', man; - But o' ae thing I'm sure, - That at Sheriffmuir - A battle there was that I saw, man; - And we ran, and they ran, - And they ran, and we ran, - And they ran and we ran awa', man." - -To-day the wind has swept all these murmurs of old wars into the -infinite forgotten. The world is as though MacAlpine and Wallace and The -Bruce and Prince Charles had not been. Or, is it? It looks that way, at -this quiet moment, in this quiet century, and in this country where -there is such quiet; a country with such a long tumult, a country with -such a strange silence. But the rest of the world would never have been -as it is but for the events that lie thick about here, but for the race -which was bred in such events. - - "And the castle stood up black - With the red sun at its back." - -There is something more dour about Stirling than Edinburgh. It is, in -the first place, too useful. One never thinks of the castle at -Edinburgh as anything but romantic, of the troops as anything but -decorative. Stirling is still used, much of it closed, and it has the -bare, uninviting look of a historic place maintained by a modern -up-keep. - -Evidently when Burns visited it he found a ruin, and was moved to -express his Jacobitism--would a poet be anything but a Jacobite?-- - - "Here Stuarts once in glory reign'd, - And laws for Scotland's weal ordain'd; - But now unroof'd their palace stands, - Their scepter's sway'd by other hands; - The injured Stuart line is gone, - A race outlandish fills their throne--" - -Soon after you enter the gate you come upon the dungeon of Roderick Dhu, -and here you get the beginnings of that long song of the Lake, which -lies to the west, when Allan Bane tunes his harp for Roderick-- - - "Fling me the picture of the fight, - When my clan met the Saxon's might, - I'll listen, till my fancy hears - The clang of swords, the crash of spears!" - -You may look into the Douglass room, where James II stabbed the Earl of -Douglass (1452). It is a dark room for a dark deed. And the guide -repeats Douglass's refusal to the king: - -[Illustration: _Stirling Castle_] - - "No, by the cross it may not be! - I've pledged my kingly word. - And like a thunder cloud he scowled, - And half unsheathed his sword. - Then drew the king that jewel'd glaive - Which gore so oft had spilt, - And in the haughty Douglass heart - He sheathed it to the hilt." - -The Douglasses, we see, still thought themselves "peer to any lord in -Scotland here," and the provocation to the Stewart, merely a second -Stewart, must have been great--"my kingly word"! and a "half sheathed" -sword! Perhaps we shall have to forgive this second James about whom we -know little but this affair, who seems as ineffective a monarch as James -the Second of two centuries later. - -It is rather with Mary, and with her father and her son, that we -associate Stirling. James V took his commoner title of "the Gudeman of -Ballengeich" from here, when he went abroad on those errantries which -all the Stewarts have dearly loved. At Stirling it seems more possible -that James V did write those poems which, yesterday in Edinburgh I felt -like attributing to James IV. North of the bridge there is a hill, Moat -Hill, called familiarly Hurley Haaky, because the Fifth James enjoyed -here the rare sport of coasting down hill on a cow's skull. The Scot -can derive coasting from "Hurley" and skull from "Haaky"--a clever -people! - -Queen Mary was brought to Stirling when a wee infant and crowned in the -old High church, September 9, 1543--and cried all the time they were -making her queen. Surely "it came with ane lass and it will pass with -ane lass." It was from Stirling that she was taken to France, and when -she returned she included Stirling in her royal progress. I cannot think -she was much here. Mary was not dour. Still, historic rumour has her -married here, secretly to Darnley, and, in the rooms of Rizzio! And she -came here once to see her princely son, hurriedly, almost stealthily, as -if she felt impending fate. - -That son was much here. Stirling was considered a safer place for James -VI than Edinburgh, and then, of course, it was such a covenanted place. -James was baptized here also, and his Royal Mother was present, but not -Darnley. He refused to come, but sat carousing--as usual--in Willie -Bell's Lodging, still standing in Broad Street, if you care to look on -it. Young James merely looked at the ceiling of the High church, and -pointing his innocent finger at it, gravely criticized, "there is a -hole." James was crowned in the High church, Mary being at Loch Leven, -and the coronation sermon was preached by Knox, who "enjoyed the -proudest triumph of his life." Then, I know, baby James had to sit -through a two or three hour sermon. For once I am sorry for him. - -From the courtyard one sees the iron bars in the palace windows placed -there to keep James from falling out--and others from stealing in? And -here in the royal apartments, King James was taught his Latin and Greek -like any other Scots boy, and by that same George Buchanan who was his -mother's instructor--and her defamer. Perhaps he was the author of the -betraying Casket letter; in spite of Froude's criticism based on -internal evidence, that only Shakespeare or Mary could have written it. -I can almost forgive Buchanan, for at one time when James was making -more noise than beseemed a pupil of Buchanan, this schoolmaster birched -him then and there, whereupon the royal tear fell, and the royal yowl -was lifted--and Lady Mar rushed in to quiet this uproarious division in -the kingdom. - -The archives of Stirling were once rich in Scottish records. But General -Monk removed them to London when he moved on that capital with the king -also in his keeping. Years and years after, when Scotland demanded back -her records, they were sent by sea, the ship foundered, and sunk--and -we have a right to accept legend as history in this land of lost -records. - -One may use Stirling Castle for lovelier ends than history or battle, -for temporal ends of beauty--which is not temporal. Else would the -prospect from these ramparts not linger immortally in the memory and -flash upon the inward eye as one of the most wonderful views in all the -world. - -From Queen Mary's Lookout there is the King's Park, with the King's -Knot, the mysterious octagonal mound; it may have looked lovelier when -Mary looked down on its flower gardens and its orchards, but this green -world is sightly. - -From the battlements above the Douglass garden there is a magnificent -survey; the rich Carse of broad alluvial land with the Links of the -Firth winding in and out among the fields, shining, and steely, -reluctant to widen out into the sea. The Ochils from the far background, -and nearer is the Abbey Craig, thickly wooded and crowned by the Wallace -monument, which while it adds nothing to the beauty of the scene, would -have made such a commanding watch tower for Wallace. Just below is the -old Bridge which--not this bridge, but it looks old enough with its -venerable five hundred years--divided the English forces. Near by, on -one of the Links, stands the tower of Cambuskenneth Abbey, a pleasant -walk through fields and a ferry ride across the Forth, to this memoried -place, which once was a great abbey among abbeys; I doubt not David -founded it. Bruce once held a parliament in it. Now it is tenanted -chiefly by the mortal remains of that Third James who took flight from -Sauchieburn, and whose ghost so haunted his nobles for years after. -Queen Margaret also lies here, she who sat stitching, stitching, -stitching, while those same nobles raged through Linlithgow and sought -their king. Cambuskenneth--the name is splendid--is but a remnant of -grandeur. But there are a few charming cottages nearby, rose-embowered, -perhaps with roses that descend from those in Mary's garden. - -Across to the north is the Bridge of Allan, come to be a celebrated -watering place-- - - "On the banks of Allan Water - None so fair as she." - -Far across to the north is Dunblane, with a restored-ruined cathedral-- - - "The sun has gone down o'er the lofty Ben Lomond - And left the red clouds to preside o'er the scene, - While lanely I stray in the calm simmer gloamin' - To muse on sweet Jessie the flower o' Dunblane." - -In the green nestle of the woods, away to the right, are the battlements -of Doune-- - - "Oh, lang will his lady - Look frae the Castle Doune, - Ere she see the Earl o' Moray - Come sounding through the toun." - -The Bonnie Earl was murdered at Donibristle Castle, on Inverkeithing Bay -across the Forth from Edinburgh, where the King sent his lordship--"oh, -woe betide ye, Huntly"--to do the deed. It was our same kingly James VI, -and I like to think that his life had its entertaining moments, even if -Anne of Denmark did have to look long and longingly down from the -battlements of Doune. - -The lookout to the north is called the Victoria--as if to link Victoria -with Mary! But the old queen was proudest of her blood from the -eternally young queen. An inscription on the wall registers the fact -that Queen Victoria and the Prince Consort visited the castle in 1842. - -And not any sovereign since until 1914. - -[Illustration: DOUNE CASTLE.] - -I had reached the city in the mid-afternoon, unconscious of royalty, -that is, of living royalty, as one is in Scotland. It seems that the -king and queen, George and Mary, were making a visit to Stirling. -Consequently there were no carriages at the station--and one must be -very careful how one walked on the royal crimson carpet. Two small boys -who scorned royalty, were impressed into service, to carry bags to the -hotel. But the press of the people was too great. The king and queen had -issued from the castle, were coming back through the town - - "The castle gates were open flung, - The quivering drawbridge rock'd and rung, - And echo'd loud the flinty street - Beneath the coursers' clattering feet, - As slowly down the steep descent - Fair Scotland's King and nobles went." - -I took refuge in a bank building, and even secured a place at the -windows. For some reason the thrifty people had not rented these -advantageous casements. The king and queen passed. I saw them -plainly--yes, plainly. And the people were curiously quiet. They did not -mutter, they were decorous, there was no repudiation, but--what's a king -or queen of diluted Stewart blood to Scotsmen of this undiluted town? - -That afternoon in the castle I understood. An elderly Scotsman--I know -of no people whom age so becomes, who wear it with such grace and -dignity and retained power--looking with me at the memorial tablet to -Queen Victoria and Prince Albert, in the west lookout, explained--"It's -seventy years since royalty has been here. Not from that day to this." - -It seems that on the old day, the day of 1842, when royalty rode in -procession through the streets of Stirling, the commoners pressed too -close about. It offended the queen; she liked a little space. (I -remembered the old pun perpetrated by Lord Palmerston, when he was with -Queen Victoria at the reviewing of the troops returned from the Crimea, -and at the queen's complaining that she smelled spirits, "Pam" -explained--"Yes, esprit de corps.") So she returned not at all to -Stirling. I could wish King Edward had, the one Hanoverian who has -succeeded in being a Stewart. - -The view is almost as commanding from Ladies Rock in the old cemetery, -whither I went, because in the very old days I had known intimately, as -a child reader, the "Maiden Martyr," and here was to find her monument. - -There are other monuments, none so historic, so grandiose, so solemn. -The friends of a gentleman who had died about mid-century record that he -died "at Plean Junction." Somehow it seemed very uncertain, ambiguous, -capable of mistake, to die at a Junction out of which must run different -ways. - -And one man, buried here, was brought all the way, as the tombstone -publishes, from "St. Peter, Minnesota." It's a historic town, to its own -people. But what a curious linking with this very old town. I thought of -a man who had hurried away from Montana the winter before, because he -wanted to "smell the heather once more before I die." And he had died in -St. Paul, Minnesota, only a thousand miles on his way back to the -heather. - -Viewed from below, the castle is splendid. The road crosses the bridge, -skirts the north side of the Rock, toward the King's Knot; a view-full -walk, almost as good, almost, as Edinburgh from Princes Gardens; this -green and pastoral, that multicoloured and urban. The whole situation is -very similar, the long ridge of the town, the heaven-topping castle -hill. Stirling is the Old Town of Edinburgh minus the New Town. And so -we confess ourselves modern. Stirling is not so lovely; yet it is more -truly, more purely Scottish. Edinburgh is a city of the world. Stirling -is a town of Scotland. - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -THE WEST COUNTRY - -_Glasgow_ - - -I cannot think why, in a book to be called deliberately "The Spell of -Scotland," there should be a chapter on Glasgow. - -I remember that in his "Picturesque Notes," to the second edition Robert -Louis Stevenson added a foot-note in rebuke to the Glaswegians who had -taken to themselves much pleasure at the reservations of Stevenson's -praise of Edinburgh--"But remember I have not yet written a book on -Glasgow." He never did. And did any one ever write "Picturesque Notes on -Glasgow"? - -I remember that thirty years ago when a college professor was making the -"grand tour"--thirty years ago seems as far back as three hundred years -when James Howell was making his "grand tour"--he asked a casually met -Glaswegian what there was to be seen, and this honest Scot, pointing to -the cathedral declared, "that's the only aydifyce ye'll care to look -at." - -I should like to be singular, to write of picturesque points in Glasgow. -But how can it be done? Glasgow does not aspire to picturesqueness or to -historicalness. Glasgow is content, more than content, in having her -commerce and her industry always "in spate." - -Glasgow is the second city of size in the United Kingdom, and the first -city in being itself. London is too varied and divided in interests; it -never forgets that it is the capital of the world, and a royal capital. -Glasgow never forgets that it is itself, very honestly and very -democratically, a city of Scots. Not of royal Stewarts, and no castle -dominates it. But a city made out of the most inveterate Scottish -characteristics. Or I think I would better say Scotch. That is a -practical adjective, and somewhat despised of culture; therefore -applicable to Glasgow. While Scottish is romantic and somewhat -pretending. - -Glasgow is the capital of the Whig country, of the democratic Scotland -of covenanting ancestry. Glasgow is precisely what one would expect to -issue out of the energy and honesty and canniness and uncompromise of -that corner of the world. Historically it belongs to Wallace, the -commoner-liberator. And if Burns is the genius of this southwestern -Scotland, as Scott is of the southeastern, it is precisely the -difference between the regions; as Edinburgh and Glasgow differ. - -The towns are less than an hour apart by express train. They are all of -Scotch history and characteristics apart in quality and in genius. -Edinburgh is still royal, and sits supreme upon its hill, its past so -present one forgets it is the past. Glasgow never could have been royal; -and so it never was significant until royal Scotland ceased to be, and -democratic Scotland, where a man's a man for a' that, came to take the -place of the old, to take it completely, utterly. So long as the world -was old, was the Old World, and looked toward the East, Edinburgh would -be the chief city. When the world began to be new, and to look toward -the New World, Glasgow came swiftly into being, and the race is to the -swift. - -[Illustration: PORTRAIT OF THOMAS CARLYLE, BY WHISTLER.] - -There is history to Glasgow, when it was a green pleasant village, and -there was romance. It is but a short way, a foot-path journey if the -pleasant green fields still invited, out to Bothwell Castle; splendid -ruin, and, therefore, recalling Mary and Darnley and the Lennoxes, but -not Bothwell. But Landside, where Mary was defeated, is a Glaswegian -suburb, Kelvingrove--"let us haste"--is a prosperous residence -district. The Broomielaw, lovely word, means simply and largely the -harbour of Glasgow, made deliberately out of Clyde water in order that -Glasgow's prosperity might flow out of the very heart of the city. -"Lord, let Glasgow flourish according to the preaching of Thy word," ran -the old motto. It has been shortened of late. - -The heart of the city is dreary miles of long monotonous streets, where -beauty is never wasted in grass blade or architecture. George's Square -may be noble, it has some good monuments, but it is veiled in commercial -grime, like all the town. What could be expected of a city that would -name its principal business street, "Sauchieburn," memorializing and -defying that petty tragedy? - -There is an art gallery with Whistler's "Carlyle," and a few other -notable pictures (John Lavery's I looked at with joy) to redeem miles of -mediocrity. (Here I should like to be original and not condemn, but -there are the miles.) - -There is a cathedral, that "aydifyce" of note, touched almost nothing by -the spirit of "reform"; for the burghers of Glasgow, then as now, -believing that their cathedral belonged to them, rose in their might and -cast out the despoilers before they had done more than smash a few -"idols." Therefore this shrine of St. Kentigern's is more pleasing than -the reformed and restored shrine of St. Giles. The crypt is particularly -impressive. And the very pillar behind which Rob Roy hid is all but -labeled. Of course it is "authentic," for Scott chose it. What unrivaled -literary sport had Scott in fitting history to geography! - -There is a University, one of the first in the Kingdom; the city -universities are gaining on the classic Oxford and St. Andrews. - -But chiefly there are miles of houses of working men, more humble than -they ought to be. If Glasgow is one of the best governed cities in the -world, and has the best water supply in the world--except that of St. -Paul--would that the Corporation of the City of Glasgow would scatter a -little loveliness before the eyes of these patient and devoted -workingmen. - -But what a chorus their work raises. In shipyards what mighty work is -wrought, even such tragically destined work, and manufactured beauty, as -the _Lusitania_! - -From Glasgow it is that the Scot has gone out to all the ends of the -earth. If the "Darien scheme" of wresting commerce from England failed -utterly, and Glasgow failed most of all, that undoing was the making of -the town. It is not possible to down the Scot. The smallest drop of -blood tells, and it never fails to be Scottish. Most romantic, most -poetic, most reckless, most canny of people. The Highlander and the -Lowlander that Mr. Morley found mixed in the character of Gladstone, and -the explanation of his character, is the explanation of any Scot, and of -Scotland. - - -_Ayr_ - -Always the West is the democratic corner of a country; or, let me say -almost always, if you have data wherewith to dispute a wholesale -assertion. Sparta was west of Athens, La Rochelle was west of Paris, -Switzerland was west of Gesler; Norway is west of Sweden, the American -West is west of the American East. And Galloway and Ayrshire are the -west Lowlands of Scotland. - -The West is newer always, freer, more open, more space and more lure for -independence. The West is never feudal, until the West moves on and the -East takes its place. Here men develop, not into lords and chiefs, but -into men. Wallace may come out of the West, but it is after he has come -out that he leads men, in the establishment of a kingdom, but more in a -wider fight for freedom; while he is in the West he adventures as a man -among men, on the Waters of Irvine, in Laglyne Wood, at Cumnock. And a -Bruce, struggling with himself, and setting himself against a Comyn, may -stagger out of a Greyfriars at Dumfries, and, bewildered, exclaim, "I -doubt I have slain the Comyn!" When a follower makes "siccar," and all -the religious and human affronts mass to sober The Bruce, a king may -come out of Galloway, out of a brawl, if a church brawl, and establish -the kingdom and the royal line forever. - -If a Wallace, if a Bruce, can proceed out of these Lowlands--and a Paul -Jones!--a poet must come also. And a poet who is as much the essence of -that west country as chieftain or king. Everything was ready to produce -Burns in 1759. William Burns had come from Dunnottar, a silent, -hard-working, God-fearing Covenanter, into this covenanting corner of -Scotland. It was filled with men and women who had grown accustomed to -worshiping God according to their independent consciences, and in the -shelter of these dales and hills, sometimes harried by that -covenanter-hunting fox, Claverhouse--to his defeat; finally winning the -right to unconcealed worship. Seven years gone, and William Burns having -built the "auld clay biggan" at Alloway, he married a Carrick maid, -Agnes Broun, a maid who had much of the Celt in her. And Robert Burns -was born. - -It is of course only after the event that we know how fortunate were the -leading circumstances, how inevitable the advent of Robert Burns. Father -and mother, time and place, conspired to him. And all Scotland, all that -has been Scotland since, results from him. It is Scott who reconstructed -Scotland, made the historic past live. But it is Burns who is Scotland, -Scotland remains of his temper; homely, human, intense, impassioned; -with a dash and more of the practical and frugal necessary for the -making of a nation, but worse than superfluous for the making of a -Burns. - -Three towns of this Scottish corner contend not for the birth but for -the honours of Burns. If Dumfries is the capital of Burnsland and the -place of his burial, Ayr is gateway to the land and the place of his -birth; while Kilmarnock, weaver's town and most unpoetic, but productive -of poets and poetesses, claims for itself the high and distinct literary -honours, having published the first edition in an attic, and having -loaned its name as title for the most imposing edition, and having in -its museum possession all the published Burns editions. - -To follow his footsteps through Burnsland were impossible to the most -ardent. For Burns was a plowman who trod many fields, and turned up many -daisies, and disturbed many a wee mousie, a poet who dreamed beside many -a stream, and if he spent but a brief lifetime in all, it would take a -lifetime, and that active, to overtake him. - -"I have no dearer aim than to make leisurely pilgrimages through -Caledonia; to sit on the fields of her battles, to wander on the -romantic banks of her rivers, and to muse on the stately towers or -venerable ruins, once the honoured abodes of her heroes." - -He did this abundantly. We have followed him in many a place. But in -Burnsland it were all too intimate, if not impossible. He knew all the -rivers of this west country, Nith, Doon, Ayr, Afton. - - "The streams he wandered near; - The maids whom he loved, the songs he sung, - All, all are dear." - -He did not apparently know the sea, or love it, although he was born -almost within sound of it; and he sings of it not at all. He knew -the legends of the land. "The story of Wallace poured a Scottish -prejudice into my veins," and he deliberately followed the Bruce legend, -hoping it would enter into his blood and spirit, and something large and -worthy would result. It did, not an epic, but the strong song of a -nation, "Scots wha hae." - -[Illustration: _Ayr River_] - -His land was the home of Lollards and Covenanters. Independence was in -the blood. It was the land of the "fighting Kennedys," who disputed with -each other, what time they were not furnishing an Abbot of Crossraguel -to dispute with John Knox, or a Gude Maister Walter Kennedy to have a -"flytting" with the Kynge's Makar, William Dunbar. Where Burns secured -his Jacobitism I do not know, but, of course, a poet is by nature a -Jacobite; as he himself said, "the Muses were all Jacobite." - -Burnsland is rich in other literary associations. Johannes Scotus is -reckoned to have been born also at Ayr; and there are John Galt, James -Boswell, James Montgomery, Alexander Smith, Ainslie, Cunningham, and the -Carlyles, and Scott in some of his most lively romances. The Book of -Taliessin is written in part of this land, the Admirable Crichton was -born here. It is a close-packed little port-manteau of land. There is -pursuit enough for at least a summer's travel. And, without doubt, there -are as many pilgrims who explore Ayrshire as Warwickshire, and much more -lovingly. - -The entrance is by Ayr. And this I think can be made most claimingly, -most fitly, by steamer from Belfast. For one thing, it avoids entrance -at Glasgow. Ayr is still a sea port of some importance; and Ireland, -democratic, romantic, intimate, is a preparation for this similar -country of Galloway and about; both lands are still Celtic. - -Ayr looks well from the sea as one comes in, although in the day of -Burns the Ratton-key was a more casual place, and harbour works to -retain the traffic were not yet built. But the town sits down well into -the waterside of its Doon and Ayr rivers, much like a continental town -where fresh waters are precious. There is long suburban dwelling, not as -it was a hundred and fifty years ago. - -And Ayr looks out on the sea with a magnificent prospect from any of her -neighbouring segments of coast, with ruined castles set properly, with -the dark mass of romantic Arran purple across the waters, with Ailsa -Rock evident, and to a far-seeing eye the blue line of Ireland whence -we have come. - -There is small reason for staying in Ayr, unless for a wee bit nappie in -Tam o' Shanter's inn, which still boasts itself the original and only -Tam and hangs a painting above the door to prove itself the starting -point, this last "ca' hoose," for Alloway. - -To Alloway one may go by tram! It sounds flat and unprofitable. But the -gray mare Meg is gone, has followed her tail into the witches night. And -if it were not the tram it would be a taxi. And what have witches and -warlocks to do with electricity, in truth how can they compete with -electricity? - - "Nae man can tether time or tide; - The hour approaches Tam maun ride; - That hour, o' night's black arch the keystane, - That dreary hour he mounts his beast in; - An' sic a night he taks the road in - As ne'er poor sinner was abroad in." - -To follow, in a tram, in broad daylight, oh, certainly the world has -changed, and the Deil too since "the Deil had business on his hand." The -occupations that are gone! It is a highway one follows to-day, suburban -villas and well-kept fields line the way; no need to "skelpit on thro' -dub and mire." Tam would be quite without adventure. And to-day one -wonders if even the lightning can play about this commonplace way. There -is however the Race-course--some reminder of Meg! - -Yet, it is possible to forget this pleasant day, and to slip back into -old night as - - "Before him Doon pours a' his floods; - The doubling storm roars through the woods; - The lightnings flash frae pole to pole; - Near and more near the thunders roll; - When, glimmering through the groaning trees, - Kirk Alloway seem'd in a bleeze." - -The walls of the Auld Kirk lie before us--and "Auld Nick in shape o' -beast" is sitting under "the winnock bunker i' the east." Who would deny -that he also like Tammie "glower'd amazed and curious"? - - "The piper loud and louder blew, - The dancers quick, and quicker flew; - They reel'd, they set, they cross'd, they cleekit, - Till ilka carlin swat and reekit, - And coost her duddies to the wark, - And linket at it in her sark." - -The ride on this tram has developed a dizziness. - - "Wi' tippenny we fear nae evil; - Wi' usquebae we'll face the devil!" - -Did we cry "weel done, cutty sark!" Then we, too, must descend and -hurry on foot to the old Brig o' Doon. Not pausing long for The -Monument, even to look at the wedding ring of Jean Armour, or the Bible -Burns gave to Highland Mary; but on to the Auld Kirk which stands -opposite. - -To Burns we owe this church in more ways than one. When a certain book -of "Antiquities" was being planned, Burns asked that the Auld Kirk of -Alloway be included. If Burns would make it immortal? yes. So the story -of Tam o' Shanter came to make Kirk Alloway forever to be remembered. -What would William Burns, covenanter, have thought? For I cannot but -think that William looked often askance at the acts of his genius-son. -But William was safely buried within the kirk, and if the epitaph -written by the son reads true, William was excellently covenanted. - - "O ye whose cheek the tear of pity stains, - Draw near with pious rev'rence and attend. - Here lies the loving husband's dear remains, - The tender father, and the gen'rous friend. - The pitying heart that felt for human woe, - The dauntless heart that fear'd no human pride, - The friend of man, to vice alone a foe, - For 'ev'n his failings lean'd to virtue's side.'" - -The auld clay biggan still stands in Alloway, and "the banks and braes -o' bonnie Doon" bloom as "fresh and fair" to-day as they did a century -and a half ago. It is a simpler place than the birth house on High -Street in Stratford, and a simpler environment than College Wynd in -Edinburgh. This is a true cotter's home, and Saturday nights within must -have been of the description. - -Somehow it is less of a tourist's way of forced entry, this through the -barn, than the basement door at Abbotsford; and so one passes through -the byre and into the kitchen, where stands the bed in which Robert -Burns was born. It is all beautifully homely, as lowly as a manger; and, -how the world has been filled by what was once small frail life herein! - -It is difficult to divide the poet's relics among so many claimant -places, but here and in the museum are many mementoes of the poet. For -this as well as Kirk Alloway is a national monument, or something like. - -There was a century during which this was merely a clay biggan, and a -public house, and that offended no one, least of all the friends of the -poet. Except Keats. He came hither in 1818. The host was drunk most of -the time, and garrulous. Keats complained that it affected his -"sublimity." And, for once, Keats turned severe self-critic. "The -flat dog made me write a flat sonnet." - -[Illustration: BURNS' COTTAGE, BIRTH-PLACE OF ROBERT BURNS, AYR.] - -It was while living at Mount Oliphant, two miles east of Ayr, when Burns -was fifteen, that he began that long, long list of lasses whom he loved -and whom he made immortal with a verse. He might have said with James -V,--and much he resembled that Gudeman o' Ballangeich--"it came wi' ane -lass and it will gae wi' ane lass." The first was Nelly Kilpatrick, -daughter of the miller of Perclewan-- - - "O, ance I lov'd a bonnie lass, - Ay, and I love her still." - -The last was Jessie Lewars, who ministered to him in those last days in -the Millhole brae in Dumfries-- - - "O wert thou in the cauld blast - On yonder lea, on yonder lea, - My plaidie to the angry airt, - I'd shelter thee, I'd shelter thee." - -To Kilmarnock one goes for its name. But "the streets and neuks o' -Killie" are changed since that Burns' day. It is a sprawling, thriving -factory town, a town of weavers--and a town of poets. There is something -in the whirr of wheels, to those who are within it, which establishes -rhythm in the ear, and often leads to well-measured poetry! Surely a -weaver is equal to a plowman, and I fancy that many a workingman and -working lass with lines running through the head walk this Waterloo -street, pass Tam o' Shanter's arms, and looks above the Loan Office at -the attic where that precious first edition was printed in 1786. Poems -and pawn broking--Waterloo Street is a suggestive Grub street. - -From Kilmarnock to Dumfries by train is a Burns pilgrimage, even though -it be taken without break, and in seventy-seven minutes! And -interspersed are other memories. It is entirely what Burnsland should -be, nothing set down in high tragedy, but all lyrical, with gentle -hills, whispering rivers, and meadows and woodlands all the way. - -Mauchline, where the burst of song was like that of a skylark, the very -outpouring of the man's soul; here lies the field where he turned up the -daisy and found an immortal lyric. - -Auchinleek, where Boswell and Dr. Johnson paused on their journey and -where to the hot-flung query of the Doctor, "Pray, what good did -Cromwell ever do the country?" the judicial and wrathful father of our -Boswell flung the hotter retort--"He gart kings ken they had a lith in -their necks." The Scottish tongue is the tongue of rebellions. Should -we stay in this corner of the world longer we might turn covenanting and -Cromwellian! - -Cumnock, which William Wallace made his headquarters between the battle -of Stirling bridge and that of Falkirk. - -New Cumnock, whence the Afton so sweetly falls into the Nith-- - - "Flow gently, sweet Afton, amang thy green braes, - Flow gently, I'll sing thee a song in thy praise." - -Kirkconnel, which is said not to be the Kirkconnel where Fair Helen -lies--but like the blasted heath, will it not serve? - - "I wish I were where Helen lies, - Baith night and day on me she cries." - -And in any event "The Bairnies cuddle doon at Nicht" were "waukrife -rogues" in Kirkconnel. - -Sanquhar to Thornhill, with rounding green hills along the Nith, with -memories of Old Queensberry and Defoe and Wordsworth and Coleridge and -Allan Ramsay and Dr. John Brown, and Carlyle. Thornhill is Dalgarnock, -where fairs were held-- - - "But a' the niest week, as I petted wi' care, - I gaed to the tryste o' Dalgarnock, - And wha but my fine, fickle lover was there? - I glowr'd as I'd seen a warlock, a warlock, - I glowr'd as I'd seen a warlock." - -Dunscore lies to the right with "Redgauntlet" memories, and a few miles -farther on is Craigenputtock. - -Ellisland a brief moment, where immortal "Tam" was written as under the -spell of a warlock. - - -_Dumfries_ - -It is a proud little city, more than a bit self-satisfied. It realizes -that its possession of the mortal remains of Burns gives it large claim -in his immortality, and the Burns monument is quite the center of the -town. - -Yet Dumfries is well satisfied from other argument. Historically, it -goes back to Bruce and Comyn, and even to a Roman beyond. But there is -nothing left of old Greyfriars where the killing of Comyn took place. -Dumfries had its moment in the Forty Five, for the Bonnie Prince was -here as he went down to the invasion of England, and his room in what is -now the Commercial Hotel may be looked into but not lodged in; Dumfries, -in spite of Covenant, has its modicum of Jacobitism. - -[Illustration: CAERLAVEROCK CASTLE.] - -It is in "Humphrey Clinker" that Smollett compels some one to say "If -I was confined to Scotland I would choose Dumfries as my place of -residence." Confined to Scotland, forsooth! - -Dumfries is larger than it was in the days of Burns, and very busy -withal, in factories and railroads. But it is still a country town, -still hints at something of dales and woods and streams, even on High -Street. The land about is true Burnsland; low, gentle hills closing in -the horizon in a golden sea of warmth and sunlight, and the Nith a -pleasant stream. It makes a great bend about Dumfries, with Maxwelltown -across the water, and still - - "Maxwellton's braes are bonny - Where early fa's the dew." - -Farther a-field there lies Sweetheart Abbey, built by the Lady -Devorgilla, widow of John Balliol, and founder of Balliol at Oxford; one -of the most beautiful ruins not only in Scotland but in the Kingdom. -Caerlaverock castle, the Ellangowan of "Guy Mannering," stands on the -Solway, which still, like love, ebbs and flows. Ecclefechan lies east. -"O, wat ye wha's in yon toun," Burns sang from here, but later it was -made a place of pilgrimage, with its immortal dust come back from London -for Scottish rest. - -And in St. Michael's Burns was laid to rest in 1796, and twenty years -later was placed in this mausoleum in the corner of the churchyard. A -sumptuous monument for so simple a man. - - "He came when poets had forgot - How rich and strange the human lot; - How warm the tints of Life; how hot - Are Love and Hate; - And what makes Truth divine, and what - Makes Manhood great. - - "A dreamer of the common dreams, - A fisher in familiar streams, - He chased the transitory gleams - That all pursue; - But on his lips the eternal themes - Again were new." - -The road leads southward, the Via Dolorosa Mary took after Langside, the -Via Victoriosa which Prince Charles took-- - - "Wi' a hundred pipers an' a', an' a', - Wi' a hundred pipers an' a', an' a', - We'll up and gie them a blaw, a blaw, - Wi' a hundred pipers an' a', an' a'. - Oh, it's ower the Border awa', awa', - It's ower the Border awa', awa', - We'll on an' we'll march tae Carlisle Ha' - Wi' its yetts and castles an' a', an' a'. - Wi' a hundred pipers an' a', an' a'." - - - - -BIBLIOGRAPHY - - -ALLARDYCE, A.: Balmoral. F. (For Deeside and Dunnottar.) - -ANDERSON: Guide to the Highlands, 3 vols. - -ARMSTRONG, SIR WALTER: Raeburn. - -BARR, ROBERT: A Prince of Good Fellows. F. (James V.) - -BARRIE, JAMES: Auld Licht Idylls. F. - --- Little Minister. F. - -BARRINGTON, MICHAEL: The Knight of the Golden Sword. F. (Claverhouse.) - -BAXTER, J. DOWLING: The Meeting of the Ways. F. (The Roman Wall.) - -BELL, J. J.: Wee Macgreegor. F. - -BLACK, WILLIAM: Wild Eelin. F. (Inverness.) - --- MacLeod of Dare. F. Mull. - --- Strange Adventures of a Phaëton. F. (Moffat.) - -BORLAND, ROBERT: Border Raids and Reivers. - -BUCHAN, JOHN: The Marquis of Montrose. - -CARLYLE, THOMAS: Burns, in The Hero as Man of Letters. - --- Knox, in The Hero as Priest. - -CHAMBERS, ROBERT: Traditions of Edinburgh. - -COWAN, SAMUEL: Mary Queen of Scots, and who wrote the Casket Letters? - -CROCKETT, W. S.: Footsteps of Scott. - --- The Scott Country. - -CROCKETT, S. R.: Raiderland. (Galloway.) - --- The Men of the Moss Hags. F. (1679) F. - --- The Standard Bearer of Galloway. F. - -CUNNINGHAM, ALLAN: Life and Land of Burns. - --- Sir Michael Scot. F. - -DEBENHAM, MARY H.: An Island of the Blest. F. (Iona.) - -DICK, STEWART: The Pageant of the Forth. - -DOUGALL, CHARLES S.: The Burns Country. - -DOUGLASS, SIR GEORGE: Ed. The Book of Scottish Poetry. - --- The New Border Tales. F. - -FLEMING, GUY: The Play Acting Woman. F. (Contemp.) - -FRAPRIE, FRANK S.: Castles and Keeps of Scotland. - -GALT, JOHN: The Ayrshire Legatees. F. - --- Annals of the Parish. F. - --- The Provost. F. - --- Lawrie Todd. F. - --- Ringan Gilhaize, or The Covenanters. F. - -GEIKIE, SIR ARCHIBALD: The Scenery of Scotland, viewed in connection -with its physical geography. - -GIBBON, JOHN MURRAY: Hearts and Faces. F. (Contemp.) - -HAMERTON, PHILIP GILBERT: A Painter's Camp. (Awe.) - -HAMILTON, LORD E.: Mary Hamilton. F. - -HAWTHORNE, NATHANIEL: Our Old Home. - -HENDERSON and WATT: Scotland of To-day. - -HEWLETT, MAURICE: The Queen's Quair. F. - -HILL, G. BIRKBECK: Footsteps of Dr. Johnson. - -HUME-BROWN: Scotland in the Time of Queen Mary. - --- Early Travellers in Scotland. - -HUME, MARTIN: Love Affairs of Mary Queen of Scots. - -JACKSON, H. H.: Glimpses of Three Coasts. - -JAMES, G. P. R.: Gowrie, the King's Plot. F. - -JOHNSON, SAMUEL: Boswell's Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides. - -JUSSERAND, J. J.: A Journey to Scotland in the year 1435. (In English -essays.) - -KIPLING, RUDYARD: Puck of Pook's Hill. F. - --- A Centurion of the 13th. - --- On the Great Wall. - --- The Winged Hats. - -LANG, ANDREW: Short History of Scotland. - --- The Mystery of Mary Stuart. - --- St. Andrews. - -LANG, JEAN: A Land of Romance. (The Border.) - -LAUDER, SIR THOMAS DICK: The Wolf of Badenoch. F. - -LESLIE, AMY: Bawbee Jack. (Contemp.) - -LINDSAY, ROBERT, of Pitscottie: History of Scotland. (Sixteenth Cent.) - -LOCKHART, JOHN: Life of Scott. - -M'AULAY, ALLAN: The Safety of the Honours. F. - -MACLAREN, IAN (John Hay): Graham of Claverhouse. F. - --- The Bonnie Brier Bush. F. - -MASON, A. E. W.: Clementina. F. (1715.) - -MASSON, DAVID: Edinburgh Sketches and Memories. - -MASSON, ROSALINE: Edinburgh. - -MONCRIEFF, A. R. HOPE: Bonnie Scotland. - --- The Heart of Scotland (Perthshire). - --- The Highlands and the Islands. - -MORLEY, JOHN: Burns. - -MUNRO, NEIL: John Splendid. F. (For Montrose, royalist.) - --- The New Road. F. - -PENNELL, JOSEPH and ELIZABETH R.: Our Journey to the Hebrides. - -PERCY: Reliques. - -PORTER, JANE: Scottish Chiefs. F. (Wallace and Bruce.) - -QUEEN VICTORIA'S Highland Journals. - -SCOTT, SIR WALTER: The Abbot. F. (Mary Stuart.) - --- The Antiquary. F. (East Fife.) - --- Black Dwarf. F. (Lowlands and Border.) - --- The Bride of Lammermuir. F. (East Lothian.) - --- The Fair Maid of Perth. F. - --- Guy Mannering. F. (Caerlaverock castle.) - --- The Heart of Midlothian. F. (Edinburgh.) - --- Lady of the Lake. Poetry. (Katrine and Stirling.) - --- Lay of the Last Minstrel. Poetry. (Border.) - --- The Legend of Montrose. F. - --- The Lord of the Isles. Poetry. (Hebrides.) - --- The Monastery. F. (Melrose.) - --- Marmion. Poetry. (Flodden.) - --- Old Mortality. F. (Covenanters.) - --- The Pirate. F. (Orkneys.) - --- Redgauntlet. F. (1745.) - --- Roy Roy. F. (Trossachs Region and Glasgow.) - --- St. Ronan's Well. F. (Tweedale.) - --- Tales of a Grandfather. - --- Waverley. F. (Prince Charles Edward.) - -SHORT, JOSEPHINE H.: The Charm of Scotland. - -STEVENSON, R. L.: David Balfour. F. (After 1715.) - --- Kidnapped. F. (After 1715.) - --- The Master of Ballantrae. F. - --- Picturesque Notes of Edinburgh. - --- St. Ives. F. (After 1815.) - -SHAKESPEARE: Macbeth. - -SHELLEY, MARY: The Fortunes of Perkin Warbeck. F. - -SMOLLETT, TOBIAS: Humphrey Clinker. F. - -STEUART, J. A.: The Red Reaper. (For Montrose, Covenanter.) - -SWINBURNE, ALGERNON S.: Bothwell, a tragedy. - --- Chastelard, a tragedy. - --- Mary Stuart, a tragedy. - -SUTCLIFFE, HALLIWELL: Willowdene Will. F. (1745.) - --- The Lone Adventure. F. - -TAYLOR, BAYARD: In Picturesque Europe. - -TODD, G. EYRE: Cavalier and Covenanter. F. (Charles II.) - -UPSON, ARTHUR: The Tides of Spring. (Poetic drama.) - -WATKEYS, FREDERICK W.: Old Edinburgh. - -WESLEY, JOHN: Journal. Vol. 3. - -WARRENDER, MISS: Walks near Edinburgh. - -WHYTE-MELVILLE, G. J.: The Queen's Maries. F. - -WIGGIN, KATE DOUGLAS: Penelope in Scotland. - -WILLIAMSON, M. G.: Edinburgh. (Ancient Cities series.) - -WINTER, WILLIAM: Brown Heath and Blue Bells. - --- In Gray Days and Gold. - -WORDSWORTH, DOROTHY: Tour in Scotland. - - - - -INDEX - - - A - - Abbottsford, 38-47 - - Aberdeen, 202, 227, 206-212 - - Aeneas Sylvius, 8 - - Agricola, 8, 237 - - Alexander III, 6, 63, 64, 158-159, 173, 210 - - Alloway Kirk, 327 - - Anne of Brittany, 21 - - Ardchonnel, 258 - - Ard, Loch, 291 - - Ardnamurchan, 266 - - Arthur's Seat, 48, 143, 146 - - Augustus, Fort, 246 - - Awe, Loch, 258-262 - - Ayala, Dom Pedro de, 124 - - - B - - Badenoch, Wolf of, 193, 197, 224 - - Balmoral Castle, 205 - - Bannockburn, 21, 27, 164, 232, 300, 301-303 - - Banquo, 132, 176 - - Bass, the, 156-157 - - Beaton, Cardinal, 164-166 - - Bemersyde, 27, 49 - - Berwick, 12-17, 24, 57 - - Birnam, 192 - - Blairgowrie, 198 - - Bonar, Horatio, 59 - - Border, the, 12, 16, 21, 29, 60, 64 - - Borlund, Dr., 79 - - Borthwick, 25, 131, 196 - - Boswell, James, 155, 167, 234, 274 - - Bothwell Castle, 131, 316 - - Bothwell, James, 15, 64, 65, 66, 67, 114, 146, 196 - - Braehead, 154 - - Braemar, 196 - - Brandir, Pass of, 259-260 - - Brantome, Sieur de, 128 - - Brown, Dr. John, 79, 151 - - Bruce, the, 14, 28, 36, 88, 97, 132, 164, 177, 178, 255, 285, 320, 332 - - Buccleuch, Duke of, 37, 68 - - Buchan, Lords of, 51 - - Buchanan, George, 66, 93, 307 - - Burns, Robert, 20, 45, 61, 145, 320-334 - (quoted), 20, 304, 325, 326, 327, 331 - - Byron, George Gordon, Lord, 205, 209 - - - C - - Calton Hill, 84, 98, 143-148 - - Cambuskenneth, abbey, 309 - battle, 300 - - Canongate, 100, 101-110, 115, 120, 125 - - Carberry, 25, 131 - - Carlyle, Thomas, 10, 78, 150, 163 - - Carnegie, Andrew, 178, 237 - - Carterhaugh, 72 - - Catrail, 40 - - Cawdor Castle, 226-227 - - Charles I, 25, 45, 88, 89, 112, 168 - - Charles II, 21, 25, 96, 111, 113, 132, 189, 215 - - Charles, Prince, 25, 45, 58, 61, 68, 71, 88, 114, 115, 133, 204-205, - 227, 230, 233, 234, 244, 247, 248, 334 - - Chastelard, 158 - - Chaucer, 8, 126 - - Cheviots, Io, 40, 47, 49 - - Cistercians, 36 - - Claverhouse (Bonnie Dundee), 45, 94, 142, 194-195 - - Clephane, Elizabeth, 27 - - Closes, the, 103 - - Col, 267 - - Coldstream, 19, 20, 21 - - Coleridge, 287 - - Columba, Saint, 34, 192, 208, 269, 271-275 - - Corriemulzie, 203 - - Cowgate, the, 95 - - Craigenputtock, 332 - - Cromwell, 88, 89, 90, 91, 97, 102, 214, 230 - - Cruachan, Ben, 259, 260, 261 - - Culdee, 36, 51, 213 - - Culloden, 205, 231-234, 237 - - Cuthbert, Saint, 7, 35 - - - D - - Dalkeith, 25, 125 - - Danes, 12 - - Darien scheme, 318 - - Darnick, 48 - - Darnley, 26, 67, 92, 114, 115, 130, 131, 160, 196, 306 - - David I, 24, 35, 51, 55, 63, 70, 109-110, 176 - - Deans, Jeanie, 10 - - Dee, 203, 204 - - Disraeli, 10 - - Donaldson Hospital, 135 - - Douglass, Gavin, 118-122, 193 - Lord James, 28, 76 - - Douglasses, the, 16, 29, 76, 88, 91, 305 - - Doune, 310 - - Drummelzier, 29 - - Drummond, William, 8 - - Dryburgh, 39, 47-52 - - Dumbarton Castle, 90, 299 - - Dumfries, 321, 330, 332-334 - - Dunbar, Bob, champion curler, 180 - William, 120-123, 126 - - Dunblane, 309 - - Dunfermline, 36, 55, 141, 159, 173-179 - - Dunnolly Castle, 255 - - Dunnottar Castle, 212-219, 221 - - Dunsinane, 192 - - Dunstaffnage Castle, 189, 255-257 - - - E - - Edinburgh, 14, 24, 82-148 - - Edward I, 18, 19, 36, 87, 89 - - Edward VII, 89, 111, 312 - - Eildon hills, 30, 33, 40, 49, 57 - - Elgin, 34, 224 - - Elizabeth, 13, 16, 129 - - Elliott, Jean (quoted), 23 - - Ettrick, 47, 105 - - - F - - Fair Maid, 188 - - Falkirk, 133, 300, 301 - - Fergusson, Robert, 106 - - Fife, 14, 149-170 - - Findon, 212 - - Fleming, Marjorie, 150-155, 160-162 - - Flodden, 17, 21, 22, 23, 27, 71, 117, 126 - - Ford Castle, 18, 19, 22 - - Forres, 224 - - Fotheringay, 6, 16, 67, 183 - - Fox, George, 8 - - Froissart, 8 - - - G - - Galashiels, 41, 71 - - Gala Water, 41 - - George IV, 144 - - George V, 104, 311 - - Gladstone, 79, 319 - - Glamis Castle, 194 - - Glasgow, 83, 227 - - Glencoe, 262-264 - - Glenshee, 198, 199 - - Golf, 167-170 - - Gordon, Lady Jane, 123 - - Grassmarket, 93, 94, 125 - - Great Glen, 234, 236, 242-250 - - Greyfriars, 95-96 - - - H - - Hadrian, 11 - - Halidon Hill, 16 - - Hamerton, Philip Gilbert, 258 - - Henley (quoted), 134, 171 - - Henry VIII, 14, 36, 57 - - Hermitage Castle, 15, 65, 66, 127 - - Hogg, James, 9, 75, 105 - - Holyrood Palace, 14, 54, 85, 111-133, 146 - - Howell, James, 9, 314 - - Hume, 84, 145, 223 - - Huntlie Bank, 42, 43 - - Huntly, 127, 220, 229, 310 - - - I - - Innishail, 260 - - Inveraragaig, 244 - - Inversnaid, 285 - - Inverugie Castle, 221, 223 - - Iona, 34, 35, 36, 70, 264-276 - - Irving, Edward, 78, 150 - Washington, 30 - - - J - - James I, 113, 156-157, 188, 189-190 - - James II, 25, 56, 113, 304 - - James III, 25, 45, 57, 113, 142 - - James IV, 19, 21, 22, 25, 73, 87, 97, 113, 115-126, 129, 305 - - James V, 25, 73, 96, 97, 109, 113, 184, 281, 305 - - James VI, 6, 13, 25, 36, 92, 132, 167, 190, 283, 306, 307, 310 - - James II of England, VII of Scotland, 91, 113, 137, 168 - - James the Chevalier, 6, 57, 113, 201, 212, 223 - - Jedburgh, 15, 60-68 - - Johnson, Dr. Samuel, 9, 102, 138-139, 156, 164, 167, 212, 234, 274, 281 - - Jonson, Ben, 8 - - - K - - Katrine, Lake, 287-290, 298 - - Keats (quoted), 105, 328 - - Kelso, 34, 56-60 - - Ker of Fernihurst, 68 - - Kerrera, 257 - - Kilchurn Castle, 258 - - Killiecrankie, Pass of, 194-196 - - Kilmarnock, 321, 329-330 - - King Arthur, 85, 168 - - Kinghorn, 158, 173 - - Kirkcaldy, 150, 151, 159 - General, 88 - - Kirk o' Field, 15, 130-131 - - Kirkwall, 238 - - Knox, John, 14, 107, 150, 164, 166, 184, 185-187, 190, 207, 307 - - - L - - "Lady of the Lake," 278-280 - - Lamb, Charles, 150 - - _Lands_, 100, 106, 125, 136, 168 - - Lang, Andrew, 31, 71 - (quoted), 31, 162 - - Lauder, Harry, 180, 181, 282 - - Lavery, John, 317 - - Lawnmarket, 100 - - Le Croc, 16 - - Leith, 14, 116, 128, 155 - - Lethington, Mr., Secretary, 67 - - Lincoln, Abraham, 145 - - Lindisfarne, 7, 35 - - Lindsay, Sir David, 122 - - Linlithgow Palace, 184-185 - - Loch Leven, 45, 67, 106, 131 - - Lockhart (quoted), 46 - - Lomond, Ben, 285 - - Lomond, Loch, 281, 282-287 - - - M - - Macbeth, 132, 192, 216, 220, 226, 227, 229, 230 - - MacDonald, Flora, 45, 230, 233 - - MacDui, Ben, 202 - - Magdalene, Queen, 113, 156 - - Maid of Norway, 7, 210 - - Malcolm Canmore, 87, 90, 173, 177, 179, 200, 220, 229 - - Margaret of Denmark, 184, 210, 238 - Saint, 35, 87, 90, 141, 158, 172, 174-177 - Tudor, 124-126, 175, 184 - - Maries, the Four, 127, 128, 293 - - Marischal, Earl, 207, 208, 217, 220-223 - - Marmion, 17, 21, 22, 23, 157 - - Mary, Queen of Scots, 13, 15, 16, 17, 25, 36, 45, 57, 61, 64, 66, 67, - 68, 86, 88, 90, 91, 92, 93, 94, 102, 105, 106, 114, 115, 126-131, 146, - 147, 158, 160, 181-187, 190, 196, 230, 240, 292-293, 305, 306, 308, - 316, 334 - - Masson, Rosaline (quoted), 132 - - McLeod of Dare, 270 - - Meg Merrilies, 62 - - Melrose, 5, 25, 48, 63, 113, 177, 227 - - Mendelssohn, 112, 268 - - Menteith, Lake, 292 - - Merlin, 29 - - Moffat, 70 - - Monk, General, 20 - - Mons Meg, 90-91, 97, 117 - - Montrose, Marquis of, 20, 28, 45, 71, 73, 106-108, 214, 248-249 - (quoted), 108 - - Moray House, 102, 106 - - Moreville, Hugh de, 51 - - Mull, 257, 264, 266, 268, 270 - - - N - - Nairn, 225 - - Napoleon, 44, 45, 46 - - Nelson, Lord, 145 - - Netherbow Port, 100 - - Nevis, Ben, 202, 243, 249-251 - - Norham Castle, 17, 18 - - North, Christopher, 77, 245 - Inch, Perth, 180 - - Noyes, Alfred (quoted), 98 - - - O - - Oban, 235, 252-258 - - Ossian, 258 - - - P - - Park, Mungo, 71, 74 - - Pennells, the, 61, 274, 281, 282 - - Percy's Reliques, 42, 58, 59 - - Perth, 187-192, 227 - - Peterhead, 6, 221-223 - - Philipshaugh, 28, 71, 73 - - Prestonpans, 25 - - Pulpit Hill, Oban, 257 - - - Q - - Queensberry House, 102 - - Queensferry, 172, 174 - - - R - - Raeburn, 136, 137 - - Ravelston, 154-155 - - Regalia, 96-97, 214-216 - - Richard II, 36, 88, 112 - - Rizzio, 130, 131, 190, 306 - - Rob Roy, 45, 285, 288, 318 - - Roman, 11, 40, 48, 51, 158 - - Roscoff, 68 - - Rosebery, Lord, 172 - - Rosetti (quoted), 189 - - Roxburgh, 54-55 - - Ruskin, 44, 191 - - - S - - St. Andrews, 14, 162-170 - - St. Cuthbert's Church, 95, 136 - - St. Giles Church, 67, 85, 93, 104, 118, 136, 146 - - St. John's Church, 136 - - St. Mary's Loch, 70 - - Sandyknowe, 49, 50 - - Sauchieburn (battle), 300, 302 - - Scone, 189, 227 - - Scotch plaids, 137 - - Scot, Michael, 29, 30, 34, 48 - - Scott monument, 137, 146 - - Scott, Sir Walter, 10, 17, 38, 41, 43, 44, 58, 62, 75, 82, 84, 91, 95, - 97, 142, 144, 150, 152, 172, 177, 242, 255, 260, 281 - (quoted), 18, 20, 21, 22, 26, 29, 30, 32, 37, 38, 50, 56, 74, 80, - 118, 191, 264, 267, 277, 280, 282, 283, 289, 291, 294, 295, 296, 297, - 302, 304, 305, 311 - - Sentimental Tommy, 85, 169 - - Severus, Emperor, 8 - - Shakespeare (quoted), 192, 225, 226, 230, 268 - - Sheriffmuir (battle), 300, 302 - - Skerryvore, 268 - - Skye, 268 - - Smailholm, 50 - - Smith, Adam, 150 - - Smollett, Tobias, 282, 332 - - Spynie Castle, 224 - - Staffa, 267-268 - - Stevenson, 10, 79, 82, 95, 142, 145, 147, 152, 172, 200, 267, 268, - 275, 314 - (quoted), 95, 104, 143, 145, 275 - - Stewart, Margaret, 15 - the, 87, 108-109, 112, 115, 130, 194, 253, 305 - - Stirling (battle), 300, 227 - - Stonehaven, 210 - - Strathcona, Lord, 263 - - Stronochlachar, 288 - - - T - - Tam O'Shanter Inn, 325 - - Tantallon Castle, 157 - - Tay, 188, 191, 198 - - Taylor, the water-poet, 8, 99, 102, 203 - - Teviot, 54, 56 - - Thomas of Ercildoun, 42, 43, 229 - - Thomson, James, 59 - - Tibbie Shiel, 70, 77 - - Tilt, Glen, 196, 197, 203 - - Tiree, 267 - - Tolbooth, 45, 106 - - Tomnahurich, 229 - - Town Cross, Edinburgh, 125 - - Trehinish Isles, 266, 268 - - Tronkirk, 136 - - Turner, 18, 19, 20, 27, 39 - - Twain, Mark, 151 - - Tweed, 13, 15, 43, 44, 47, 54 - - - U - - Upson, Arthur, 148, 175 - - Urquhart, 244 - - - V - - Victoria, Queen, 4, 284, 285, 310, 312 - - - W - - Wallace, William, 74, 178, 214, 260, 308, 315-319 - - Wall, the, 10, 11 - - Warbeck, Perkin, 123 - - Watson, William (quoted), 334 - - Waverleys, the, 45, 144, 148 - - Wesley, John, 9 - - West Bow, 141 - - Westminster Abbey, 16 - - Whistler, 317 - - William, Fort, 236, 248 - - Winter, William, 10, 160, 228, 252 - - Wishart, George, 164 - - Wolfe, General, 288 - - Wordsworth, Dorothy, 34, 39, 61, 62, 95, 263, 284, 289, 294-295 - William, 66, 69, 72, 73, 75, 225, 287, 331 - - - Y - - Yarrow, 47, 69, 70-72 - - Yetholm, 62 - - - -***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SPELL OF SCOTLAND*** - - -******* This file should be named 41623-8.txt or 41623-8.zip ******* - - -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: -http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/4/1/6/2/41623 - - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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