Part 3

We also saw _Glenartney_, the mountain on which Lord Willoughby has his deer forest. We passed by Sir D. Dundas’s place, _Dunira_, before we changed horses at _Comrie_, for the last time, and then by Mr. Williamson’s, and by _Ochtertyre_, Sir W. Keith Murray’s.

Triumphal arches were erected in many places. We passed through _Crieff_, and a little past seven reached _Drummond Castle_, by a very steep ascent. Lord Willoughby received us at the door, and showed us to our rooms, which are small but nice. Besides Lord and Lady Willoughby and the two Misses Willoughby, and our own people, the dinner-party was composed of the Duchess of Sutherland and Lady Elizabeth L. Gower, Lord and Lady Carington, Mr. and Mrs. Heathcote, the Duke de Richelieu, Lord Ossulston, Mr. Drummond, and the officers of the Guard.

_Drummond Castle, Sunday, September 11._

We walked in the garden, which is really very fine, with terraces, like an old French garden. Part of the old castle and the archway remains.

At twelve o’clock we had prayers in the drawing-room, which were read by a young clergyman, who preached a good sermon.

It poured the whole afternoon, and, after writing, I read to Albert the three first cantos of _The Lay of the Last Minstrel_, which delighted us both; and then we looked over some curious, fine old prints by Ridinger. At eight we dined. The Duchess of Sutherland and Lady Elizabeth had gone; but Lord and Lady Abercorn and Lord and Lady Kinnoull and their daughter added to the party.

_Monday, September 12._

Albert got up at five o’clock to go out deer-stalking. I walked out with the Duchess of Norfolk.

All the Highlanders (Lord Willoughby’s people, 110 in number), were drawn up in the court, young Mr. Willoughby and Major Drummond being at their head, and I walked round with Lady Willoughby. All the arms they wore belonged to Lord Willoughby; and there was one double-hilted sword, which had been at the battle of _Bannockburn_. I hear that at _Dunkeld_ there were nearly 900 Highlanders, 500 being _Athole_ men; and, altogether, with the various Highlanders who were on guard, there were 1,000 men.

At length--a little before three--to my joy, Albert returned, dreadfully sunburnt, and a good deal tired; he had shot a stag. He said the exertion and difficulty were very great. He had changed his dress at a small farm-house. _Glenartney_ is ten miles from _Drummond Castle_; he drove there. Campbell of Monzie (pronounced “Monie”), a young gentleman who has a place near here, went with him and was, Albert said, extremely active. To give some description of this curious sport, I will copy an extract from a letter Albert has written to Charles,[9] giving a short account of it:—

“Without doubt deer-stalking is one of the most fatiguing, but it is also one of the most interesting of pursuits. There is not a tree, or a bush behind which you can hide yourself.... One has, therefore, to be constantly on the alert in order to circumvent them; and to keep under the hill out of their wind, crawling on hands and knees, and dressed entirely in grey.”

[9] My half-brother, Prince Leiningen, who died in 1856.

At half-past four we drove out with Lady Willoughby and the Duchess of Buccleuch. We drove through _Fern Tower_ (belonging to the widow of the first Sir D. Baird), where we stopped the carriage; then to _Abercairny_, Major Moray’s. We got out there a moment to look at the very fine house he is building, then drove home by _Monzie_ (Campbell of Monzie’s), and Sir W. Murray’s, and had a very good view of the Highland hills--a very fine day. At eight we dined. The Belhavens, Seftons, Cravens, Campbell of Monzie, and various others composed the party. After dinner more people came--several in kilts; and many reels were danced; Campbell of Monzie is an exceedingly good dancer. We danced one country dance--I with Lord Willoughby--and Albert with Lady Carington.

_Tuesday, September 13._

We had to start early, and therefore got up soon after seven o’clock; breakfast before eight. At nine we set off. The morning was very foggy and hazy. We passed near Lord Strathallan’s place and stopped for a moment where old Lady Strathallan was seated. Lord Willoughby rode with us the whole way till we arrived here. Soon after this we came to a very extraordinary Roman encampment at _Ardoch_, called the “Lindrum.” Albert got out; but I remained in the carriage, and Major Moray showed it to him. They say it is one of the most perfect in existence.

We changed horses at _Greenloaning_, and passed through _Dunblane_. At twelve o’clock we reached _Stirling_, where the crowd was quite fearful, and the streets so narrow, that it was most alarming; and order was not very well kept. Up to the Castle, the road or street is dreadfully steep; we had a foot procession before us the whole way, and the heat was intense. The situation of the Castle is extremely grand; but I prefer that of _Edinburgh Castle_. Old Sir Archibald Christie explained everything to us very well. We were shown the room where James II. killed Douglas, and the window out of which he was thrown. The ceiling is most curious. A skeleton was found in the garden only twenty-five years ago, and there appears to be little doubt it was Douglas’s. From the terrace the view is very extensive; but it was so thick and hazy, that we could not see the Highland hills well. Sir A. Christie showed us the field of the battle of _Bannockburn_; and the “Knoll,” close under the walls of the Castle, from which the ladies used to watch the tournaments; all the embankments yet remain. We also saw Knox’s pulpit.

We next passed through _Falkirk_, and changed horses at _Callander Park_, Mr. Forbes’s; both he and Sir Michael Bruce having ridden with us from beyond _Stirling_. We passed Lord Zetland on the road, and shortly before reaching _Linlithgow_, where we changed horses, Lord Hopetoun met us. Unfortunately, we did not see the Palace, which, I am told, is well worth seeing. The Duke of Buccleuch met us soon after this, and, accompanied by a large number of his tenants, rode with us on horseback to _Dalkeith_. We changed horses at _Kirkliston_, and lastly at the outskirts of _Edinburgh_. There were a good many people assembled at _Edinburgh_; but we were unable to stop. We reached _Dalkeith_ at half-past five.

The journey was 65 miles, and I was very tired, and felt most happy that we had safely arrived here.

_Dalkeith, Wednesday, September 14._

This is our last day in _Scotland_; it is really a delightful country, and I am very sorry to leave it. We walked out and saw the fine greenhouse the Duke has built, all in stone, in the Renaissance style. At half-past three o’clock we went out with the Duchess of Buccleuch, only Colonel Bouverie riding with us. We drove through _Melville Park_, and through one of the little collier villages (of which there are a great many about _Dalkeith_), called _Loanhead_, to _Rosslyn_.

We got out at the chapel, which is in excellent preservation; it was built in the fifteenth century, and the architecture is exceedingly rich. It is the burying place of the family of Lord Rosslyn, who keeps it in repair. Twenty Barons of Rosslyn are buried there in armour. A great crowd had collected about the chapel when we came out of it.

From _Rosslyn_ we then drove to _Hawthornden_, which is also beautifully situated at a great height above the river. To our great surprise we found an immense crowd of people there, who must have run over from _Rosslyn_ to meet us.

We got out, and went down into some of the very curious caves in the solid rock, where Sir Alexander Ramsay and his brave followers concealed themselves, and held out for so long a time. The Duchess told us there were many of these caves all along the river to _Rosslyn_.

We came home through _Bonnyrigg_, another collier village, and through _Dalkeith_.

_Thursday, September 15._

We breakfasted at half-past seven o’clock, and at eight we set off, with the Duchess of Buccleuch, Lord Liverpool, and Lord Hardwicke following. The ladies and equerries had embarked earlier. The day was very bright and fine. The arrangements in _Edinburgh_, through which we had to pass, were extremely well managed, and excellent order was kept. We got out of the carriage on the pier, and went at once on board the “Trident,” a large steamboat belonging to the General Steam Navigation Company. The Duke and Duchess of Buccleuch, Lady J. Scott, the Emlyns, Lord Cawdor, and Lady M. Campbell, came on board with us, and we then took leave of them. We both thanked the Duke and Duchess for their extreme kindness, attention, and hospitality to us, which really were very great--indeed we had felt ourselves quite at home at _Dalkeith_.

As the fair shores of _Scotland_ receded more and more from our view, we felt quite sad that this very pleasant and interesting tour was over; but we shall never forget it.

On board the “Trident” (where the accommodation for us was much larger and better than on board the “Royal George,” and which was beautifully fitted up,) were Admiral Sir E. Brace, a pleasant old man, Commander Bullock, and three other officers. The “Rhadamanthus,” with some servants and carriages, set off last night, as well as the “Shearwater,” with Lord Liverpool and Lord Hardwicke on board.

The “Salamander” (with Mr. and Mrs. Anson on board), the “Fearless,” and the “Royal George” yacht set off at the same time with us, but the wind being against us, we soon lost sight of the yacht, and, not very long after, of all our steamers, except the “Monarch,” which belongs to the General Steam Navigation Company, and had some of our horses on board. It started nearly at the same time, and was the only one which could keep up with us. We passed _Tantallon Castle_, a grand old ruin on the coast, and quite close to the _Bass Rock_, which is very fine, and nearly opposite _Tantallon_. It was entirely covered with sea-gulls and island geese, which swarm in thousands and thousands, quite whitening its sides, and hovering above and around it.

At two o’clock we passed the famed _St. Abb’s Head_, which we had so longed to see on our first voyage to _Scotland_. I read a few stanzas out of _Marmion_, giving an account of the voyage of the nuns to _Holy Island_, and saw the ruins of the convent on it; then _Bamborough Castle_, and a little further on the _Ferne Islands_. We were very sorry to hear that poor Grace Darling had died the night before we passed the first time.

_Friday, September 16._

We heard that we had passed _Flamborough Head_ at half-past five in the morning. The “Black Eagle” we passed at half-past eight last night, and we could only just see her smoke by the time we came on deck. At half-past nine I followed Albert on deck; it was a fine, bright morning. We had some coffee, and walked about; we were then quite in the open sea; it was very fine all day. At five we were close to the “Rhadamanthus,” which had been in sight all day. We had a very pleasant little dinner on deck, in a small tent made of flags, at half-past five. We passed _Yarmouth_ at about a quarter to six--very flat--and looking, Albert said, like a Flemish town. We walked up and down on deck, admiring the splendid moonlight, which was reflected so beautifully on the sea.

We went below at half-past seven, and I read the fourth and fifth cantos of _The Lay of the Last Minstrel_ to Albert, and then we played on the piano.

_Saturday, September 17._

At three o’clock in the morning we were awakened by loud guns, which, however, were welcome sounds to us, as we knew that we were at the _Nore_, the entrance of the river. About six we heard the “Rhadamanthus” had just passed us, and they said we were lying off _Southend_, in order to let the “Black Eagle” come up. It was a very bright day, though a little hazy.

The shipping in the river looked very pretty as we passed along. At ten minutes past ten we got into the barge and landed. The Duchess of Norfolk and Miss Matilda Paget and the equerries were all there, but the others we knew nothing of. Sir James Clark had been on board the “Trident” with us. We drove off at once to the railway terminus, and reached _Windsor Castle_ at half-past twelve o’clock.

VISIT TO BLAIR ATHOLE.

_Monday, September 9, 1844._

We got up at a quarter to six o’clock. We breakfasted. Mama came to take leave of us; Alice and the baby[10] were brought in, poor little things, to wish us “good-by.” Then good Bertie[11] came down to see us, and Vicky[12] appeared as “voyageuse,” and was all impatience to go. At seven we set off with her for the railroad, Viscountess Canning and Lady Caroline Cocks[13] in our carriage. A very wet morning. We got into the carriage again at _Paddington_, and proceeded to _Woolwich_, which we reached at nine. Vicky was safely put into the boat, and then carefully carried on deck of the yacht by Renwick,[14] the sergeant-footman, whom we took with us in the boat on purpose. Lord Liverpool, Lord Aberdeen, and Sir James Clark met us on board. Sir Robert Peel was to have gone with us, but could not, in consequence of his little girl being very ill.

[10] Prince Alfred, then only five weeks old.

[11] Name by which the Prince of Wales is always called in his family.

[12] Victoria, Princess Royal.

[13] Now Lady C. Courtenay.

[14] Now pensioned: promoted to Gentleman Porter in 1854. A very good servant; and a native of Galashiels.

_Blair Athole, Wednesday, September 11._

At six o’clock we inquired and heard that we were in the port of _Dundee_. Albert saw our other gentlemen, who had had a very bad passage. Tuesday night they had a dreadful storm. _Dundee_ is a very large place, and the port is large and open; the situation of the town is very fine, but the town itself is not so. The Provost and people had come on board, and wanted us to land later, but we got this satisfactorily arranged. At half-past eight we got into our barge with Vicky, and our ladies and gentlemen. The sea was bright and blue; the boat danced along beautifully. We had about a quarter of a mile to row.

A staircase, covered with red cloth, was arranged for us to land upon, and there were a great many people; but everything was so well managed that all crowding was avoided, and only the Magistrates were below the platform where the people were. Albert walked up the steps with me, I holding his arm and Vicky his hand, amidst the loud cheers of the people, all the way to the carriage, our dear Vicky behaving like a grown-up person--not put out, nor frightened, nor nervous. We got into our postchaise, and at the same time Renwick took Vicky up in his arms, and put her in the next carriage with her governess and nurse.

There was a great crowd in _Dundee_, but everything was very well managed, and there would have been no crowding at all, had not, as usual, about twenty people begun to run along with the carriage, and thus forced a number of others to follow. About three miles beyond _Dundee_ we stopped at the gate of Lord Camperdown’s place: here a triumphal arch had been erected, and Lady Camperdown and Lady Duncan and her little boy, with others, were all waiting to welcome us, and were very civil and kind. The little boy, beautifully dressed in the Highland dress, was carried to Vicky, and gave her a basket with fruit and flowers. I said to Albert I could hardly believe that our child was travelling with us--it put me so in mind of myself when I was the “little Princess.” Albert observed that it was always said that parents lived their lives over again in their children, which is a very pleasant feeling.

The country from here to _Cupar Angus_ is very well cultivated, and you see hills in the distance. The harvest is only now being got in, but is very good; and everything much greener than in _England_. Nothing could be quieter than our journey, and the scenery is so beautiful! It is very different from _England_: all the houses built of stone; the people so different,--sandy hair, high cheekbones; children with long shaggy hair and bare legs and feet; little boys in kilts. Near _Dunkeld_, and also as you get more into the _Highlands_, there are prettier faces. Those jackets which the girls wear are so pretty; all the men and women, as well as the children, look very healthy.

_Cupar Angus_ is a small place--a village--14 miles from _Dundee_. There you enter _Perthshire_. We crossed the river _Isla_, which made me think of my poor little dog “Isla.” For about five or six miles we went along a very pretty but rough cross-road, with the _Grampians_ in the distance. We saw _Birnam Wood_ and Sir W. Stewart’s place in that fine valley on the opposite side of the river. All along such splendid scenery, and Albert enjoyed it so much--rejoicing in the beauties of nature, the sight of mountains, and the pure air.

The peeps of _Dunkeld_, with the river _Tay_ deep in the bottom, and the view of the bridge and cathedral, surrounded by the high wooded hills, as you approached it, were lovely in the extreme. We got out at an inn (which was small, but very clean) at _Dunkeld_, and stopped to let Vicky have some broth. Such a charming view from the window! Vicky stood and bowed to the people out of the window. There never was such a good traveller as she is, sleeping in the carriage at her usual times, not put out, not frightened at noise or crowds; but pleased and amused. She never heard the anchor go at night on board ship; but slept as sound as a top.

Shortly after leaving _Dunkeld_, which is 20 miles from _Blair_, and 15 from _Cupar Angus_, we met Lord Glenlyon in a carriage; he jumped out and rode with us the whole way to _Blair_,--and a most beautiful road it is. Six miles on, in the woods to the left, we could see _Kinnaird House_, where the late Lady Glenlyon (Lord Glenlyon’s mother, who died about two or three months ago) used to live. Then we passed the point of _Logierait_, where there are the remains of an ancient castle,--the old Regality Court of the Dukes of Athole. At _Moulinearn_ we tasted some of the “_Athole_ brose,” which was brought to the carriage.

We passed _Pitlochrie_, a small village, _Faskally_, a very pretty place of Mr. Butter’s, to the left, and then came to the _Pass of Killiecrankie_, which is quite magnificent; the road winds along it, and you look down a great height, all wooded on both sides; the _Garry_ rolling below it. I cannot describe how beautiful it is. Albert was in perfect ecstasies. _Lude_, Mr. Mc Inroy’s, to the right, is very pretty. _Blair Athole_ is only four or five miles from the _Killiecrankie Pass_. Lord Glenlyon has had a new approach made. The house is a large plain white building, surrounded by high hills, which one can see from the windows. Lord and Lady Glenlyon, with their little boy, received us at the door, and showed us to our rooms, and then left us.

_Blair Castle, Blair Athole, Thursday, September 12._

We took a delightful walk of two hours. Immediately near the house the scenery is very wild, which is most enjoyable. The moment you step out of the house you see those splendid hills all round. We went to the left through some neglected pleasure-grounds, and then through the wood, along a steep winding path overhanging the rapid stream. These Scotch streams, full of stones, and clear as glass, are most beautiful; the peeps between the trees, the depth of the shadows, the mossy stones, mixed with slate, &c., which cover the banks, are lovely; at every turn you have a picture. We were up high, but could not get to the top; Albert in such delight; it is a happiness to see him, he is in such spirits. We came back by a higher drive, and then went to the Factor’s house, still higher up, where Lord and Lady Glenlyon are living, having given _Blair_ up to us. We walked on, to a cornfield where a number of women were cutting and reaping the oats (“shearing” as they call it in _Scotland_), with a splendid view of the hills before us, so rural and romantic, so unlike our daily _Windsor_ walk (delightful as that is); and this change does such good: as Albert observes, it refreshes one for a long time. We then went into the kitchen-garden, and to a walk from which there is a magnificent view. This mixture of great wildness and art is perfection.

At a little before four o’clock Albert drove me out in the pony phaeton till nearly six--such a drive! Really to be able to sit in one’s pony carriage, and to see such wild, beautiful scenery as we did, the farthest point being only five miles from the house, is an immense delight. We drove along _Glen Tilt_, through a wood overhanging the river _Tilt_, which joins the _Garry_, and as we left the wood we came upon such a lovely view--_Ben-y-Ghlo_ straight before us--and under these high hills the river _Tilt_ gushing and winding over stones and slates, and the hills and mountains skirted at the bottom with beautiful trees; the whole lit up by the sun; and the air so pure and fine; but no description can at all do it justice, or give an idea of what this drive was.

Oh! what can equal the beauties of nature! What enjoyment there is in them! Albert enjoys it so much; he is in ecstasies here. He has inherited this love for nature from his dear father.

We went as far as the _Marble Lodge_, a keeper’s cottage, and came back the same way.

_Monday, September 16._

After our luncheon at half-past three, Albert drove me (Lord Glenlyon riding with us) to the _Falls of the Bruar_. We got out at the road, and walked to the upper falls, and down again by the path on the opposite side. It is a walk of three miles round, and a very steep ascent; at every turn the view of the rushing falls is extremely fine, and looking back on the hills, which were so clear and so beautifully lit up, with the rapid stream below, was most exquisite. We threw stones down to see the effect in the water. The trees which surround the falls were planted by the late Duke of Athole in compliance with Burns’s “_Petition_.”[15]

[15] _The Humble Petition of Bruar Water to the Noble Duke of Athole._

The evening was beautiful, and we feasted our eyes on the ever-changing, splendid views of the hills and vales as we drove back. Albert said that the chief beauty of mountain scenery consisted in its frequent changes. We came home at six o’clock.

_Tuesday, September 17._

At a quarter to four o’clock we drove out, Albert driving me, and the ladies and Lord Glenlyon following in another carriage. We drove to the _Pass of Killiecrankie_, which looked in its greatest beauty and splendour, and appeared quite closed, so that one could not imagine how one was to get out of it. We drove over a bridge to the right, where the view of the pass both ways, with the _Garry_ below, is beautiful. We got out a little way beyond this and walked on a mile to the _Falls of the Tummel_, the stream of which is famous for salmon; these falls, however, are not so fine, or nearly so high, as those of the _Bruar_. We got home at half-past six; the day was fast fading, and the lights were lovely.

We watched two stags fighting just under our window; they are in an enclosure, and roar incessantly.

_Wednesday, September 18._