Part 21

"I never was so happy in my life. No, Aaleck, not even upon my wedding journey." That is the verdict of one devoted young wife, given in presence of her husband.

"I haven't been so happy since my father took me fishing, and I wasn't as happy then," was Aaleck's statement.

"Oh, Andrew, I have been a young girl again!" We all know who said that, Miss Velvety.

"I can't help it, but I don't want to speak of it just now. It's too sad." Prima Donna, this was a slightly perilous line to follow, for the heart was evidently near the mouth there.

"To think of it, Naig, I have to go home to-morrow." That was Eliza.

"Jerusalem the golden! it would make a wooden Indian jump, this life would." No need of putting a name to that, Bennie, my lad.

"Andrew, I've just been in a dream of happiness all the time." That was oor Davie.

"I never expect to be as happy for seven weeks again," met with a chorus of supporters.

The Queen Dowager, however, put us all in a more gleeful mood by her verdict: "Well, I expect to have another coaching trip yet. You'll see! He can't help doing more of this, and I'll be there. He can't keep _me_ at home!" And her hearty laugh and a clap of her hands above her head brought us all merrily to dinner. She is very often a true prophet. We shall see, we shall see!

After dinner we strolled about the city and admired its many beauties, especially the pretty Ness, which flows through the town to the sea. Its banks and islands constitute one of the finest of pleasure-grounds for the people, and many a lover's tale, I trow, has been told in the shady walks beside it. I felt quite sentimental myself, sauntering along between the gloaming and the mirk with one of the young ladies. The long, long gloaming of the north adds immensely to the charms of such a journey as this we have just taken. These are the sweetly precious hours of the day.

[Sidenote: _Macbeth's Castle._]

At Inverness we are again on classic ground; for Macbeth had a castle there, which good King Duncan visited, and of which he said:

"This castle hath a pleasant seat: the air Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself Unto our gentle senses."

It was razed by Malcolm III. or Canmore, Duncan's son, who built a new castle not far from its site. This latter fortress existed until about the middle of the last century, when it was blown up by the troops of Charles Edward Stuart. Portions of its walls may still be seen. Culloden field, too, is hard by, and all the country round is rich in ruined keeps and towers.

On reassembling in our parlor an ominous lack of hilarity prevailed. We did manage, however, to get the choir up to the point of giving this appropriate song with a slight variation:

"Happy we've been a' thegither, Happy we've been in ane and a', Blyther folk ne'er coached thegither, Sad are we to gang awa'."

(Chorus).

It wasn't much of a success. We were not in tune, nor in time either. Joe and Perry were to come at ten to say good-by. Here the serious business of life pressed upon us, escape being impossible. We had to meet it at last. They came and received the thanks and adieux of all. I handed them notes certifying to all coming coaching parties that fortunate indeed would be their lot were Perry and Joe to take them in charge. Joey responded in a speech which so riveted our attention during delivery that not one of us could recall a sentence when he ceased. This is one of the sincere regrets of the travellers, for assuredly a copy of that great effort would have given the record inestimable value. It was a gem. I have tried to catch it, but only one sentence comes to me: "And has for the 'osses, sir, they are better than when we started, sir; then they 'ad flabby flesh, sir; now they're neat an' 'ardy." So are we all of us, Joey, just like the 'osses; "neat an' 'ardy," fit for walk, run, or climb, and bang-up to everything.

We had all next day to enjoy Inverness. What a fine climate it has as compared with the Highlands south of it! Vegetation is luxuriant here and the land fertile. One would naturally expect all to be bleak and bare so far north, but that Gulf Stream which America sends over to save the precious tight little isle from being a region of ice makes it delightful in summer and not extremely cold even in winter. We are assured that the climate of Inverness is more genial than that of Edinburgh, which is not saying very much for the capital of the North surely, but still it is something.

* * * * *

CALEDONIAN HOTEL,

INVERNESS, August 5, evening.

[Sidenote: _Farewell to the Coach._]

General Manager, at dinner.

_To waiter_: "What time do we start in the morning?"

_Waiter_: "The _omnibus_ starts at seven, sir."

_Shakespearean Student_--"Ah! There was the weight which pulled us down. The omnibus! Farewell the neighing steeds, the spirit-stirring horn, whose sweet throat awakened the echoes o'er mountain and glen. Farewell, the Republican banner, and all the pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious coaching, farewell! The Charioteers' occupation's gone."

_First Miltonic Reciter_--

"From morn till noon, From noon till dewy eve, A summer's day we fell."

Our fall from our own four-in-hand to a public omnibus--oh, what a fall was there, my countrymen!--involved the loss of many a long summer's day to us, for long as they had been the sun ever set too soon.

It was all up after this. Perry and Joe, the coach and the horses, were speeding away by rail to their homes; we were no longer _the_ coaching party, but only ordinary tourists buying our tickets like other people instead of travelling as it were in style upon annual passes. But fate was merciful to us even in this extremity; we were kept from the very lowest stage of human misery by finding ourselves alone and all together in the omnibus; our party just filled it. If it was only a hotel omnibus, as one of the young ladies said, it was all our own yet, as was the MacLean boat at the flood, and the ladies, dear souls, managed to draw some consolation from that.

We returned from Inverness by the usual tourist route: canal and boat to Oban, where we rested over night, thence next day to Glasgow. Under any other circumstances I think this part of the journey would have been delightful. The scene indelibly impressed upon our minds is that we saw at night near Ballachulish. I remember a party of us agreed that what we then saw could never be forgotten. But Black alone could paint it. It is saying much for any combination of the elements when not one nor two, but more of a party like ours stand and whisper at rare intervals of the sublime and awful grandeur which fascinates them into silence; never am I lifted up apparently so close to the Infinite as when amid such weird, uncanny scenes as these. We had an hour of this that night, fitting close to our life in the Highlands of Scotland.

[Sidenote: _The First Separation._]

The first separation came at Greenock. The Queen Dowager, and Mr. and Mrs. K. disembarked there for Paisley. The others continued by boat to Glasgow and enjoyed the sail up the Clyde very much. It was Saturday, a holiday for the workers. The miles of shipyards were still, "no sound of hammers clanking rivets up," that fine sunny day, but as we passed close to them we saw the iron frames of the future monsters of the deep, the Servia, Alaska, and others destined to bear the palm for a short time, and then to give place to others still greater, till the voyage between England and America will be only a five-day pleasure excursion, and there will be "two nations, but one people." God speed the day! But the old land must come after a time up to Republicanism! I make a personal matter of that, Lafayette, my boy, as Mulberry Sellers says. No monarchy need apply. We draw the line at this. All men were created free and _equal_. Brother Jonathan takes very little "stock" in a people who do not believe that fundamental principle.

We landed at the Broomielaw, whither father and mother and Tom and I sailed thirty odd years ago, on the 800-ton ship Wiscasset, and began our seven weeks' voyage to the land of promise, poor emigrants in quest of fortune; but, mark you, not without thoughts in the radical breasts of our parents that it was advisable to leave a land which tolerated class distinctions for the government of the people, by the people and for the people, which welcomed them to its fold and insured for their sons, as far as laws can give it, equality with the highest and a fair and free field for the exercise of their powers.

My father saw through not only the sham but the injustice of rank, from king to knight, and loved America because she knows no difference in her sons. He was a Republican, aye, every inch, and his sons glory in that and follow where he led.

I remember well that our friends stood on the quay and waved farewell. Had their adieu been translated it would have read:

"Now may the fair goddess Fortune Fall deep in love with thee, Prosperity be thy page."

Thanks to the generous Republic which stood with open arms to receive us, as she stands to-day to welcome the poor of the world to share with her own sons upon equal terms the glorious heritage with which she is endowed--thanks to it, prosperity has indeed been our page.

At St. Enoch's Station Hotel, Glasgow, another separation of the party took place. A delegation of five of our members were sent to investigate the Irish question and report at Queenstown. Miss E. L. returned to Dunfermline. Miss F. and Mr. and Mrs. K. were visiting the Queen Dowager at Paisley. Harry and I ran down to see friend Richards at his basic process at Eston, stopping over night at York and Durham, however, to enjoy once more the famous cathedrals and hear the exquisite music.

* * * * *

LIVERPOOL, August 13.

[Sidenote: _Embarkation for Home._]

We sailed to-day in the Algeria, the great Servia having been delayed. Many were there to see us off, including four or five Charioteers. The English are, as Davie said, "a kindly people," a warm-hearted, affectionate race, and as true as steel. When you once have them you have them forever. There was far more than the usual amount of tears and kisses among the ladies. One would have thought our American and English women were not cousins, but sisters. The men were, as befitting their colder natures, much less demonstrative. There seems never to be a final good-by on shipboard; at every ringing of the bell another tender embrace and another solemn promise to write soon are given. But at last all our friends are upon the tug, the huge vessel moves, one rope after another is cast off, handkerchiefs wave, kisses are thrown, write soons exchanged, and the tug is off in one direction and we in another. Some one broke the momentary silence and brought the last round of cheers with the talismanic call "Skid, Joe! Right, Perry!" That touched all hearts with remembrance of the happy, happy days, the happiest of our lives. So parted the two branches of the Gay Charioteers.

At Queenstown we received the Irish contingent, who had enjoyed their week in the Emerald Isle. Very nice indeed was the report, but with this quite unnecessary addenda, "But, of course, nothing to coaching." That goes without saying in our ranks.

The Algeria was a great ship in her day; now she is sold to a freight line. But when she does not give a good account of herself in a hurricane do not pin your faith in any iron ship. You may still, however, believe that one of steel like the Servia will stand anything. She has at least double the strength of any iron steamer afloat. When she does not outride the tempest, you may give up in earnest and decide, like Mrs. Partington at sea, "never to trust yourself so far out of the reach of Providence again."

On Wednesday morning, August 24th, the party reached New York again, and were finally disbanded. Two or three of the most miserable hours I ever spent were those at the St. Nicholas Hotel, where the Queen Dowager, Ben, and I lunched alone before starting for Cresson. Even Ben had to take an earlier train for Pittsburgh, and I exclaimed: "All our family gone! I feel so lonely, so deserted; not one remains." But the Queen was equal to the emergency. "Oh, you don't count me, then! You have still one that sticks to you." Oh, yes, indeed, sure of that, old lady.

"The good book tells of one Who sticks closer than a brother; But who will dare to say there's one Sticks closer than a mother!"

(Original poetry for the occasion.)

[Sidenote: _Final Farewells._]

These horrid partings again; but whatever the future has in store for those who made the excursion recorded here, I think I can safely say that they could not wish their dearest friend a happier life than that led from June 1st to August 24th by the Gay Charioteers.

Those who have mounted the coach become, as it were, by virtue of that act members of an inner circle; a band of union knits them closely together. To a hundred dear, kind friends in the Beautiful Land we send thanks and greeting. Their kindness to us can never be forgotten, for they soon taught us to feel that it was not a foreign land which we had visited after all, but the dear old home of our fathers.

Forever and ever may the parent land and the child land grow fonder and fonder of each other, and their people mingle more and more till they become as one and the same. All good educated Americans love England, for they know that she alone among the nations of the world

"On with toil of heart and knees and hand Through the long gorge to the far light hath won Her path upward and prevailed."

She it was who pointed out to America what to plant, and how, and where. The people of England should love America, for she has taught them in return that all the equal rights and privileges of man they are laboring for at home are bearing goodly fruit in the freer atmosphere of the West. May the two peoples, therefore, grow in love for each other, and with this fond wish, and many a sad farewell, the Gay Charioteers disband, forever afterward in life to rally round each other in case of need at the mystic call of "Skid, Joe," "Right, Perry;" and certain of this, that whatever else fades from the memory, the recollection of our coaching trip from Brighton to Inverness remains a sacred possession forever.

THE RECORD.

_BRIGHTON TO INVERNESS, JUNE 17 TO AUGUST 3, 1881._

MILES.

June 17 BRIGHTON (The Grand Hotel) " " GUILDFORD (The White Lion) 42 " 18 and 19 WINDSOR (The Castle) 32 " 20 READING (The Queen's) 27 " 21 OXFORD (The Clarendon) 34 " 22 BANBURY (The White Lion) 23 " 23 STRATFORD-ON-AVON (The Red Horse) 18 " 24 COVENTRY (The Queen's) 22 " 25 to 30 WOLVERHAMPTON (English Homes, best of all) 33 July 1 LICHFIELD (The Swan) 20 " 2 and 3 DOVEDALE (The Izaak Walton) 26 " 4 CHATSWORTH (The Edensor) 24 " 5 BUXTON (The Palace) 26 " 6 MANCHESTER (The Queen's) 23 " 7 CHORLEY (Anderton Hall) 14 " 8 PRESTON (The Victoria) 16 " 9 and 10 LANCASTER (The County) 29 " 11 KENDAL (King's Arms) 22 " 12 GRASSMERE (Prince of Wales) 18 " 13 KESWICK (The Keswick) 12 " 14 PENRITH (The Crown) 16 " 15 CARLISLE (The County and Station) 16 " 16 and 17 DUMFRIES (The Commercial) 32 " 18 SANQUHAR (The Queensberry) 28 " 19 OLD CUMNOCK (Dumfries Arms) 29 " 20 DOUGLAS (Douglas Arms) 28 " 21 to 26 EDINBURGH (The Royal) 44 " 27 and 28 DUNFERMLINE (The City Arms) 16 " 29 PERTH (The Royal George) 32 " 30 and 31 PITLOCHRIE (Fisher's Hotel) 33 August 1 DALWHINNIE (The Loch Ericht) 32 " 2 BOAT O' GARTEN (The Boat o' Garten) 35 " 3 INVERNESS (The Caledonian) 29 ___

TOTAL MILES, 831