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The little volume " Our Life in the Highlands," published fifteen years ago, with its simple records of the never-to-be-forgotten days spent with him •' who made the writer's life bright and happy," was received with a warmth of sympathy and interest which was very gratifying to her heart. The kind editor of that volume is no longer here to advise and help her, though friendly assistance has not been wanting on the present occasion. But remembering the feeling with which that little book was received, the writer thinks that the present volume may equally evoke sympathy, as, while describing a very altered life, it shows how her sad and suffering heart was soothed and cheered by the excursions and incidents it eg- •4P iii «i ' — Ri ( vi ) recounts, as well as by the simple mountaineers, from whom she learnt many a lesson of resigna- tion and faith, in the pure air and quiet of the beautiful Highlands. The writer wishes at the same time to express her giatitude to those who are mentioned through- out this volume for the devotion and kindness which contributed so much to her enjoyment of the varied scenes and objects of interest of which these pages contain the unpretending record. Osborne : December 22. i88 te- ^m f ■ ■<■■■ -Ji: \ a- TO MY LOYAL HIGHLANDERS AND ESPECIALLY TO THE MEMORY OF MY DEVOTED PERSONAL ATTENDANT AND FAITHFUL FRIEND JOHN BROWN THESE RECORDS OF MY WIDOWED LIFE IN SCOTLAND ARE GRATEFULLY DEDICATED VICTORIA R,I, -a fB- -4 I i: [& a ' ! i CONTENTS. DATS Bu.ldir.g ol ihe Princ5*s Cairn Visit to the Old Cairn on the Prince's Birthday First Visit to the Prince's Cairn after its Com- pletion Visit to Blair Carriage Accident Unveiling of the Prince's Statue at Aberdeen .. Exnedition to Invermark i-irst Visit to Dunkeld Second Visit to Dunkeld Opening of the Aberdeen Waterworks Halloween Visit to Floors and the Scotch Border Country Visit to Glenfiddich Unveiling of the Prince's Statue at Balmoral.... A House-warming at the Glassalt Shiel "Juicing the Sheep" A Highland " Kirstnin " (Christening) A Second Christening Widow Grant Visit to Invert rossachs Sheep Clipping Betrothal of Princess T.ouise to the Marquis of Lome 21 Aug. 26 Aug. 19 May 15 Sept. 7 Oct. 13 Oct. 19 Sept. 9 Oct. I Oct. 16 Oct. 31 Oct. 20 Aug, 24 Sept. • SOct. X Oct. 21 Oct. 24 Oct. I Nov. 22 Aug. I Sept. 13 June 862 862 863 863 863 863 865 86; 866 ... 866 ... 866-7 867 ... 867 ... 867 ... 868 ... 868 ... 868 ... 868 ... 869 .. 869 ... 870 ... PACE I 3 4 5 9 15 24 30 46 65 69 71 89 103 105 109 iir 113 114 116 148 3 Oct. 1870 150 ;h- Lit. [& -a i X CONTENTS. Communion Sunday at Crathie The "Spate" Visit to Holyrood and Edinburgh Visit to Dunrobin Dr. Norman Macleod Visit to Inverlochy Home-coming of their Royal Highnesses the Duke and Duchess of Edinburgh Departure of the Prince of Wales from Aber- geldic before leaving for India Visit to Inveraray Highland Funeral Unveiling of ihe Slatue of the Prince Consort at Edinburgh Presentation of Colours to " The Royal Scots" Expedition to Loch Maree Visit to Broxmouth Death of Sir Thomas Biddulph at Abergeldie Mains Memorial Cross to the Princess Alice, Grand Duchess of Hesse Death of the Prince Imperial Home-coming of their Royal Highnesses the Duke and Duchess of Connaught His Royal Highness the Duke of Connaught's Cairn Visit to the Glen Gelder Shiel Victory of Tel-el-Kebir and Home-coming of their Royal Highnesses the Duke and Duchess of Albany Conclusion.. DATE 13 Nov. 1 1 June 13 Aug. 6 Sept. March 9 Sept. 29 Aug. 17 Sept. 21 Sept 21 Oct. 17 Aug. 26 Sept. 12 Sept. 23 Aug. 28 Sept. 22 May 19 June 5 Sept. 8 Sept. 6 Oct. 871 872 872 872 873 873 874 875 875 875 876 876 877 878 878 879 879 879 879 879 FAGB 156 164 178 209 238 284 286 289 322 326 333 337 362 378 382 384 392 395 397 II Sept. 1882 399 406 * -w -a LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. Porirau of Her Majesty ihe gueen v H. R. H. the Princess Louise A. R. H. the Princess Hel.Mi.i tl. R. H. the Princess Beatrice L-ady Jane Churchill Mr. John Grant Mr, John Brown " General Grey Sharp, the Queeu's Collie M II II II ?^ ^ ff .M f -~& Caledonia ! thou land of the mountain and rock, Of the ocean, the mist, and the wind— Thou land of the torrent, the pine, and the oak, Of the roebuck, the hart, and the hind ! • Thou land of the valley, the moor, and the hill, Of the storm and the proud-rolling wave- Yes, thou art the land of fair liberty still, And the land of my forefathers' grave*! The EiTRicK Shepherd. A nation famed for song and beauty's charms,— Zealou^ et modest, innocent though free ; Patient of toil, serene amidst alarms. Inflexible in faith, invincible in arms. Beattie's Minstrel. ^ ~^^ I ifh a Building of the Prince's Cairn, Balmoral, Thursday, August 21, 1862. At eleven o'clock started off in the little pony- chair (drawn by the Corriemidzie pony, and led by Brown), Bertie, who had come over from Birk- hall, on foot, the two girls on ponies, and the two little boys, who joined us later, for Craig Low- rigan ; and I actually drove in the little carriage to the very top, turning off from the path and following the track where the carts had gone. Grant and Duncan pushed the carriage behind. Sweet Baby (Beatrice) we found at the top. The view was so fine, the day so bright, and the heather so beautifully pink — but no pleasure, no joy ! all dead ! And here at the top is the foundation of the cairn — forty feet wide — to be erected to my ■g- & & .n a { 2 ) precious Albert, which will be seen all clown \.\\v. valley. I and my poor six orphans all placed stones on it ; and our initials, as well as those of the three absent ones, are to be carved on stones all round it. I felt very shaky and nervous. It is to be thirty-five feet high, and the follow- ing inscription to be placed on it : — TO THE UELOVFiD MEMORY OF ALBERT, THE GREAT AND GOOD PRINCE CONSORT, RAISED BY HIS BROKEN-HEARTED WIDOW, VICTORIA R. AUGUST 2 1, 1862. I i '« He being niridc perfect in a short time fiillllljil a long time ; For his soul pleased the Lord, Therefore hastened He to take him Away from among the wicked." I'Visiiuin 0/ Solomon, iv. 13, I4. Walked down to where the rough road Is, and this first short attem[)t at walking in the heather shook me and tired me much. fg^- ---ff -a --& I i t Sf; a- ( 3 ) Visit to the Old Cairn on the Prince's Birthday Balmoral, August 26, 1862. I went out at twelve with the two girls on ponies (I in the little carriage), Bertie on foot. We went to see the obelisk building to His dear memory : Bertie left us tliere, and we went on round by the village, up Craig-Goivan, in the litde carriage, over the heather till we reached near to the old cairn of 1852. Grant said: "I thought you would like to be here to-day, on His birthday ! " — so entirely was he of opinion that this beloved day, and even the 14th of December, must not be looked upon as a day of mourning. " That's not the light to look at it." There is so much true and strong faith in these good, simple people. Walked down by the Fog'^ House, all pink with heather ; the day beautifully fine and bright. * Scotch for " Moss." ■a B a i B -a ( 4 ) First Visit to the Prince's Cairn AFTER ITS Completion. Balrnoraly T^iesday, May 19, 1863. I went out in the little carriage (Donald Stewart leading the pony, as John Brown was unwell) with Lenchen and Dr. Robertson (Grant following), and drove up to the cairn on the top of Craig LowrigaUy which is a fine sharp pyramid admira- bly constructed out of granite without any mortar. The inscription is very well engraved and placed. Th(a'c is a good path made up to the top of the hill. t" & '0 -a & a i 5 ) Visit to Bi.air, 1863. Balmoral, Tuesday, September 15. 1863. At twenty minutes to eight we reached Perth, where .ve breakfasted and dressed, and at twenty minutes past nine I left with Lenchen, Au^aista Bruce, and General Grey, for Blair, going past Duukeld, where we had not been since 1844, and which is so beautifully situated, and Pifiochry, through the splendid Pass of Killieerankie (which we so often drove through in 184^), past ]\Ir. Butter's place Faskally, on to Blair, having a distant peep at the entrance to Glen Tilt, and Sekieliallion, which It made and makes me sick to think of. At the small station were a few people— the poor Duke's Highlanders (keepers), the dear Duchess, Lord Tullibardine, and Captain Drummond oi Alez'zineh. t& ill & a ( 6 ) The Duchess was much riffeclcd, still more so when she got into the carriage with me. Len- chen and the others went in the boat carriage, the one zve had gone in not two years ago ! We drove at once to the house which we had visited in such joyful and high spirits October 9, two years ago. The Duchess took me to the same room which I had been in on that day, and, after talking a little to me of this dreadful afflic- tion,* she went to see if the Duke was ready. She soon returned, and I followed her downstairs along the passage, full of stags' horns, which we walked along, together with tlie poor Duke, in 186 1. When I went in, I found him standing up very much altered ; it was very sad. He kissed my hand, gave me the white rose which, according to tradition, is presented by the Lords of Athole on the occasion of the Sovereion's visit, and we sat a little while with him. It is a small room, full of his rifles and other implements and attributes of sport — now for ever useless to him ! A sad, sad contrast. He seemed very much pleased and gratified. * The Duke was suffering from an incurable iikicss. I f I ♦ ^i ^ ff -^< sat I, full )utes sad, and It r- ^ ( 7 ) ■ We went upstairs a<^ain and took some break- fast, in the very same room where we breakfasted on that very happy, never to-be-forg-otten day, full of joy and expectation. While we were breakfasting the door opened, and in walked the Duke in a thick MacDougal. Mrs. Drummond and xMiss Moncrelffe (the Duchess's pretty, amiable future daughter-in-law) were there, and also Miss MacGregor, but we did not see her. The poor Duke insisted on going with me to the staticui, and he went in the carriage with the Duchess . nd me. At the station he got out, walked about, and gave directions. I embraced the dear Duchess and gave the Duke my hand, saying, " Dear Duke, God bless you ! " He had asked permission that his men, the same who had gone with us through the glen on that happy day two years ago, might give me a cheer, and he led them on himself. Oh ! it was so dreadfully sad ! To think of the contrast to the time two years ago, when my darling was so well and I so happy with him, and just beginning to recover from my great sorrow for dearest Mama's death — looking forward to many more such delightful expeditions ; and the poor Dake then full of health and strength, walk- w ^ -ff VfT a ( 8 ) ing the whole way, and at the " March " * stopping to drink to our health and asking- us to come again whenever we liked, and giving a regular Highland cheer in Highland fashion, returned by our men, the pipers playing, and all, all so gay, so bright ! And I so eager for next year's expeditions, which I ought not to have been ! Oh ! how little we know what is before us ! How uncertain is life ! I felt very sad, but was so much occupied wdth the poor Duke,f for whom I truly grieve, that I did not feel the trial of returning to Blair in such terribly altered circumstances, as I should otherwise have done. At Stanley Junction we joined the others, and proceeded as usual to Aboyne, whence we drove in open carnages — Lenchen, Alfred, and Baby with me — and reached Balmoral 2X twenty minutes past six. It was very cold. Bertie and Alix were at the door, and stayed, a little while afterwards. How strange they should be at Abergeldie ! A few years ago dear Mama used to receive us. * The boundary of the Duke's property. "March " is the word commonly used in Scotland to express the outer Hmit or boundary of land. ■% t He died in the following year. January 16, 1864. ^ ■B- ff ^ ■ff [fi- ( 9 ) Carri\ge Accident. Wednesday, Cclober 7, 1S63. A hazy morning. I decided by Alice's advice, with a heavy heart, to make the attempt to go to Clova. At half-past twelve drove with Alice and Lenchen to Altnagiuthasach, where we lunched, having warmed some broth and boiled some potatoes, and then rode up and over the Capel Month in frequent slight snow-showers. All the high hills white with snow ; and the view of the green Clova hills covered with snow at the tops, widi gleams of sunshine between the showers, was very fine, but it took us a long time, and I was very tired towards the end, and felt very sad and lonely. Loch Muich looked beautiful in the setting sun as we came down, and reminded me of manv former happy days I spent there. We stopped to take tea at AUnao;iuthasach, Grant was not Vv'ith ^. -a ff *(r*" cfr- ■a ( lO ) us, havlnor gone with Vicky.* \Vc starlcd at about twenty minutes to seven froin AlluagiiithasacJi, Brown on the box next Smith,')' wlio was driving-, httle Willem (AHce's black serving boy) behind. It was quit(i dark when we left, but all the lamps were lit as usual ; from the first, however. Smith seemed to be quite confused (and indeed has been much altered of late), and got off the road several times, once in a very dangerous place, wlien Alice called out and Brown got off the box to show him the way. After that, however, though going very slowly, we seemed to be all right, but Alice was not at all reassured, and thoucrht Brown's holding up the lantern all the time on the box indicated that Smith could not see where he was going, though the road was as broad and plain as possible. Suddenly, about two miles from Alt- nag kithasach^ and about twenty mlnutos after we had started, the carriage began to turn up on one side; we called out: " What's the matter ? " There was an awful pause, during which Alice * She and Fritz Wilhclm had come three days before to stay at Abergeldie with their children. t Smith was pensioned in 1864 and died in 1866, liaving been thirty-one years in the Royal service. ^■ & — a C&-- •a { " ) said . " We are upsetting," In another moment — during- which I had time to reflert whether we should be killed or not, and thought there were still things I had not settled and wanted to do — I he carriage turned over on its side, and we were all precipitated to the ground ! I came down very hard, with my face upon the ground, near the carriage, the horses both on the orround, and Brown calling out in despair, " The Lord Almighty have mercy on us ! Who did ever see the like of this before ! I thought you were all killed." Alice was soon helped up by means of tearing all her clothes to disentangle her ; but Lenchen, who had also oot caught in her dress, called out very piteously, w'hich frightened me a good deal ; but she was also got out with Brown's assistance, and neither she nor Alice was at all hurt. I reassured them that I was not hurt, and urged that we should make the best of it, as it was an in- evitable misfortune. Smith, utterly confused and bewildered, at length came up to ask if I was hurt. Meantime the horses were lying on the ground as if dead, and it was absolutely necessary to get them up again. Alice, whose calmness and coolness were admirable, held one of the ff ^■ & ir~" c& ^ ( 12 ) lamps while Brown cut the traces, to tlie horror of Smith, and the horses were spccUily released and got up unhurt. There was now no means of getting home except by sending back Smith with the two horses to get another carriage. All this took some time, about half an hour, before we v:ot off. By this time I felt that my face was a good deal bruised and swollen, and, above all, my right thumb was excessively painful and much swollen ; indeed I thought at first it was broken, till we began to move it. Alice advised then that we should sit down in the carriage — that is, with the bottom of the carria^c;e as a back — v;hich we did, covered with plaids, little Willem silting in front, with the hood of his " bournous " over liis head, holding a lantern, Brown holding another, and being indefatigable in his attention and care. He had hurt his knee a good deal in jumping off tlie carriage. A little claret was all we could get either to drink or wash my face and hand. Almost directly after the accident happened, I said to Alice it was terrible not to be able to tell it to my dearest Albert, to which she answered : " But he knows it all, and I am sure he watched over us." I am thankful that it was by no impru- -^ tf.;' ■n- a ( "3 ) tlciice of mine, or the slij^luest deviation from \vhat my beloved one and I had always been in the habit of doings and what he sanctioned and approved. The thought of having to sit here in the road e\er so long was, of course, not very agreeable, but it was not cold, and I remembered from the Hrst what my beloved one had always said to me, namely, to make the best of what could not be altered. We had a faint hope, at one moment, tliat our ponies might overtake us ; but then Brown recollected that they had started before us. We did nothing but talk of the accident, and how it could have happened, and how merciful the escape was, and we all agreed that Smith was quite unfit to drive me again in the dark. We had been sittinor here about half an hour when we heard the sound of voices and of horses' hoofs, which came nearer and nearer To our relief we found it was our ponies. Kennedy (whom dear Albert liked, and who always went out with him, and now generally goes with us) had become fearful of an accident, as we were so long coming ; he heard Smith going back with the ponies, and then, seeing lights moving about, he felt ifQ- # F fl HI I. !' f • ( '4 ) convinced somethlni^ must have happened, and therefore rode back to look for us, which was very thoughtful of him, for else we might have sat there till ten o'clock. We mounted our ponies at once and proceeded home. Brown leading Alice's and my pony, which he would not let go for fear of another accident. Lenchen and Willem followed, led by Alick Grant. Kennedy carried the lantern in front. It was quite light enough to see the road without a lantern. At the hill where the gate of the deer-fence is, above the distillery, we met the other carriage, again driven by Smith, and a number of stable-people come to raise the first carriage, and a pair of horses to bring it home. We preferred, however, riding home, which we reached at about twenty minutes to ten o'clock. No one knew what had happened till we told them, Fritz -nd Louis were at the door. People were foolishly alarmed when we got upstairr, and made a great fuss. Took only a little soup and fish in my room, and had my head bandaged. I saw the others only for a moment, and got to bed rather late. L w ••HI jtes Ined the we inly my it to -^ a- - -a ( '5 ) Unvkiling ok titk Princks Statue AT AllKRDKIiN. Thursday, October 13, 1863. I CJ ^ :n ( 16 ) the account. Vicky and Alice were with me, and the long, sad, and terrible procession throui^h the crowded streets of Aberdeen, where all were kindly, but all were silent, was mournful, and as unlike former blessed times as could be con- ceived. Unfortunately it continued pouring. The spot where the Statue is placed is rather small, and on one side close to the bridc^e, but Maro- chetti chose it himself I got out trembling ; and when I had arrived, there was no one to direct me and to say, as formerly, what was to be done. Oh ! it was and is too [gainful, too dreadful ! I received (only handed) the Provost's address, and knighted him (the first since all ended) with General Grey's sword. Then we all step[)ed on to the uncovered and wet p'atform dir--, ctly oppo- site the Statue, which certainly is low, and rather small for out of doors, but fine and like. Prin- cipal Campbell's prayer was very long — which was trying in the rain — but part of it (since I have read it) is really very good. I felt very nervous when the Statue was uncovered, but much regretted tiiat when they presented arms there was no salute with the # h fb ic, and igh the 1 were .il, and 3e con- ••. The r small, ; Maro- arrived, s:iy, as was and address, if'tl) with pcd on y oppo- radier Prin- ich was 1 have hi tue was en they vith the -^ ( '7 ) drums, biic^dcs, or the pipes, for the bands below were forbidden to play. I retired almost imme- diately. Just below and In front of where we stood were Lohlein, Mayet, Grant, Brown, Cowley, P. Farquharson, D. Stewart, Nestor,* Ross, and Paterson, whom we had brought with us — and why was my darling not near me ? It was dreadfully sad. Took a little luncheon in a room upstairs with our oirls, our footmen servinor us. After this we left as we came. Affie met us theie, and then took leave at the station, William of Hesse join- ing him. It was quite fair, provokingly so, when we got to Aboync. Here we parted, took leave of Vicky and Fritz, and drove back in an open carriage, reaching Balmoral at half-past six. Very tired ; thankful it was over, but the recol- lection of the whole scene, of the whole journey, without my dear Albert, was dreadful ! Formerly how we should have dwelt on all ! * Lohlein, the Prince Consort's valet. Mayet, the- Prince Consort's second valet, then with Prince Leopold. Cowley, the Prince Consort's Jager from 1848, pensioned in 1848, formerly in the Blues. Nestor Tirard, the Queen's hairdresser since 1846. ■a rn- ff '1 a ( i8 ) a I' t [The following account of the ceremonial is taken from the " Scotsman " newspaper of October 14, 1863. The preparations made at the North-Eastern Station at Aberdeen for the reception of Her Majesty and the Princes and Princesses, were very simple and undemon- strative. Two huge flags were suspended across the inside entrance, and the floor of the passage leading into the portico at Guild Street was laid with crimson cloth. The following gentlemen were in waiting at the station, and received the royal party on the platform : The Duke of Richmond ; the Lord Provost and Magistrates ; the Earl of Aberdeen ; Lord Saltoun ; Sir J. D. H. Elphinstone ; Sir Alexander Bannerman, Bart. ; Lord Barcaple ; Mr. Thomson of Banchory ; Colonel Eraser of Castle Eraser ; Colonel Eraser, younger, of Castle Eraser ; Mr. Leslie of Warthill, M.P. ; Mr. Irvine of Drum, convener of the county ; Colonel Earquharson of Invercauld ; Sheriff Davidson ; John Webster, Esq., and several of the rail- way directors and officials. On leaving the station, the procession was formed into the following order, and proceeded by way of Guild Street, Regent Quay, Marischal Street, Castle Street, and Union Street,, to the site of the Memorial : — Body of Police. Detachment of Cavalry. The Convener and Master of Hospital of the Incorporated Trades. B- & J --& {Sr a i ( -9 ) The Principal and Professors of the University of Aberdeen. The City Architect. His Clracc the Duke uf Richmond, the Ct)nvcner and Slieriff of the County, and the Committee of Subscribers to the Memorial. The Lord Provost, and Magistrates, and Town Council. The Suite in .Attendance on Her Majesty and Royal Family. I dy Augusta IJrure (in attendance on the Queen). Countess Hohenthal (in attendance on Crown- i'rincess). Baroness Sclienck (in attendaice on Princess Louis of Hesse). Sir George Grey. The Princes Alfred, Arthur, and Leopold. Lady Churchill (Lady-in-\Vaiting). The Princess Helena. The Princess Louise. The Crown-Prince of Prussia. The Prince Louis of Hesse. The Princess Louis of Hesse. The Crown- Princess of Prussia. THE QUEEN. Cavalry Escort. The procession wound its way alon;^ the densely packed streets amid the deepest silence of the assem- blage, everybody seemin;^ to be animated by ? desire to abstain from any popular demonstrations tliat might be distasteful to Her Majesty. On reaching the Northern Club buildings, Her Majesty, accompanied by the Prince and Princesses, Sir Charles Phlpps,* Lord Charles Fitz- * Keeper of the Privy Purse, who died February 24, i.S66, to my great regret, for he was truly devoted and attached to es W 1f^ a- ; ill tQ- ( 20 ) roy, Major-General Mood, Dr. Jenner, General Grey, and the ladies and gentlemen of the suite, passed from their carriages into the lobby, and thence into the billiard room — a handsome lofty room, which forms a half oval at the end towards Union Terrace. The Lord Provost then presented the following address to Her Majesty: — To THE Queen's Most Excellent Majesty. The humble Address of Her Majesty's loyal and dutiful sub- jects, the contributors to the erection in Aberdeen of a Memorial Statue of His Royal Highness the Prince- Consort. May it please your Majesty, We, your Majesty's most loyal and dutiful subjects, the contributors to the erection in Aberdeen of a Memorial Statue of His Royal Highness the Prince-Consort, humbly beg leave to approach your Majesty with the expression of our devoted attachment to your Majesty's person and governn^ent. We are enabled this day to biing to complet on the work which we undertook in sorrowing and grateful remembrance of that illustrious Prince, whose removal by the inscrutable will of Providence we, in common with all your Majesty's subjects, can never cease to deplore. No memorial is necessary to preserve the name of one who adorned the highest station of the land by the brightest display of intellectual and moral greatness, as well as the purest and most enlightened zeal for the public good ; whose memory is revered throughout the world, as that of few Princes has ever been ; and whose example will ever be cherished as a most precious inheritance by this great nation. Yet, in this part of the dear Prince and me, with whom he had been for twenty years. D & I 4' Q- who lisplay ;t and novy is ever most laxt of twenty -a ( 21 ) t!ie United Kingdom, whii h was honoured hy tlic annual pre- se ice of tlie illustrious Prince, and in this city, which a few yjars a;^'0 was signally favoured by the exertion of his great ta'ents as President of the Pritish Association for the Advance nvjnt of Science, an ea-nest desire perxaded all ranks to give p^^rmancnt expression to the j)rofound reverence and affection he had insj)ired. Mow ii-.adcciuate for such a purpose the memorial we have erected must be, we ourselves most deejjly feel. But that your Majesty should liave on this occasion graciously come forth again to receive thic pul)iic homage of your loyal and devoted l)eop!e, we reg;ird as a ground of heartfelt thankfulness ; and Viewing it as a proof that your Majesty ajjproves the hunihle hut sincere tiibute of our sorrow, we shall ever be grat* ful for rhr '>\crtion which your Majesty has made to afford us this proof. 1 i.at Almighty (iod, the source of all strength, may comfort your .Niajesty's heait, prosjjcring all your Majesty's designs and eiTorts for your people's good ; that He may bestow His choicest favours on your royal offspring, and continue to your devoted subjects for many years the blessings of your Majesty's reign, is our earnest and constant prayer. In name of the Contributors, Alex. Anderson, I onl Provost of Aberdeen, Cliairaiaii of ihe Committee of Contributors. Aberdeen, Octol)cr 13, 1S63. On rcccivinjj the address, Her Majesty handed the following reply to the Lord Provost : — Your loyal and affectionate address has deeply touched me and I thank you for it from my heart. -^ f^.. & ' 1! f. B --fj] ( 'y'l ) It was with feelings which T fliil in seeking words to express that I determined to attend here to-dny to witness the inaugurat- ing of the statue which will record to future times the love and respect of the peopl(> of this county and city for my great and beloved husband. But I could not reconcile it to myself to remain at Balmoral while such a tribute was being ])aid to his memory without making an exertion to assure you personally oi the deep and heartfelt sense I entertain of your kindness and affection ; and at tlie same time proclaim in public the un- bounded reverence aiul admiration and the devoted love tluit fill my heart for him whose loss must throw a la.. ling gloom over all my future li.'c. Never can I forget the circumstances to which vou so feel- ingly alluded that it was in thi.s ciiy he delivered his remark- able address to the Ihitish Association a very few years ago ; and that in this county wc had for so many years been in the habit of si>ending some of tl;e hapjiiest days of our lives. After the Queen's reply had been handed to the Lord Provost, Sir George Grey commanded his Lordship to kneel, wl ci Her Majesty, taking a sword from Sir George, touched the Provost on each shoulder and said — " Rise, Sir Alexander Anderson." This ceremony concluded, the Oucen and the whole of the royal party tlien proceeded to the platform, Her Majesty's appearance on which was the signal for the multitude gathered out- side to uncover their heads. Her ALijesty, who appeared to be deeply melancholy and much depressed, though calm and collected, advanced to the front of the platform, while the Princes, who were all dressed in Royal Stewart tartan, and llic Princesses, who wore blue silk dresses, white bonnets, and dark grey cluidvs, took up a position ^ i ''■i. \ -^ i & ( 23 ) i in mediately behind her. The proceedings were opened with a prayer by Principal Campbell, who spoke for about ten minutes, the assemblage standing uncovered in the rain, which was falling heavily at the time. During the time the learned Principal was engaged in prayer, Her Majesty more than once betrayed manifest and well- justified signs of impatience at the length of the oration. At the conclusion of the prayer, a signal was given, the bunting which had concealed the statue was hoisted to the t(^p of a flagstaff, and the ceremony WdS complete. Her Majcst}', having scanned the statue narrowly, bowed to the assemblage and retired frtjm the platform, followed by the royal party. After the illustrious com- pany had lunched in the club, the procession was re- formed and proceeded the same way as it came to the Scottish North-Eastc .. Station in Guild Street. Her Majesty left Aberdeen about three o'clock.] a lough ^ ■-& « f i •: I a 53- -a ( 24 ) ExrEDITION TO INVER^rAKK. Tuesday, Scpicnibcr 19, iS6j. On waking' I felt very low and nervous at the thoLi^^ht of the expedition. All so sadly changed. Started at eleven o'clock with Lenchen and Jane Churchill, Grant and Brown on the box— like in former happy times. General Grey had preceded us, and we found him at the Bridge of Miiich, where our ponies were waiting. We had four gillies, three of whom were with us in 1861 (Smith, Morgan, and Kennedy). The heat was intense going up the Polacli. I got well enough through the bog, but Jane Churchill's pony floundered considerably. We lunched when we had crossed the Tanar and gone a little way up Mount Keeir and General Grev then went on to meet Lord Dalhousie. Tw^o of his foresters had come to sliow us the wa)^ We remounted after f ! I c& ( 25 ) sillinc^ and rcstin;^^ a \la\v. while, and ascended the .sh(;iilder of Mojinf Keen, and then rode on. The (h'stance was very hazy. We got off antl walked, after which I rode down that fine wild pass called the Ladder Jhini ; but it seemed to strike me much less than when I first saw it as all is Hat now. At tlu? foot of the pass Lcrd DaUiousie met lis with General Grey, and welcc;med us kindly; and at th.e Shiel, a little further on, where we had lunched in 1S61, Lady Christian Maule, Lord I)al- housie's sister, met us. She was riding. We then went on a few ^ards furth.er till we came to the IVe/l, wluTe we got off. It is really beautiful, built of white stones in tlie shape of the ancient crown of Seed/and ; and in crm of the pillars a plate is inserted with this inscription : " Queen Victoria with the Prince Consort visited this well and drank of its refreshing waters on the 20th September, 186 1, the )ear of Mer Majesty's great sorrow ; " and round the spring, which bubbles up beautifully, and quite on p. level wnth the irround, i^ inscribed ui old English characters the followin'>" les'cnd : — Rest, lra\cll(T, on tliis loncl}' green, And drink and pray for S>:cLanJ's Quevin. t -a ^ I •Eb ( 26 ) VVe drank with sorrowing hearts fioni this very wtll. where just four years aoo I had drunk with my beloved Albert ; and Grant hantled me his llask (one I had given him) out of which we had drunk on that day ! Lord Dalhousie has kindly built this well in remembrance of that occasion. It was quite a j)'1grimage. We aftcirwards had some tea, close by ; and diis fine wide glen was seen at its best, lit up as it was by the evening sun, wai'm as en a sumaier's day, without a breath of air, the sk)' leconiing pinker and pinker, the hills themselves, as you looked down the glen, assuming that beautifully glowing tinge which they do of an evening. Jhe Highlanders and ponies grouped aroimd tlie well had a most picturesque effect. And )ct to me all seemed strange, unnatural, and sad. Wc mounted again, and went on pursuing the same way as we liad done four years ago, going [^ast the old Castle of Inverniark. As there Vv'as time, however, we rode on to Loch Lee, just beyond it, which we had only seen from a distance on the last occasion. It is quite small, but extremely prett)', and was beautifully lit up, reminding me of the farthest end of Loch JMiiich, After this we lode ^ — ff r a r f ( 27 ) up to tlic lionse. tlic little drawing-room of which I well rciv.cniljcrc'd ; it broii^^ht ail back to me. Lady Christian t(iuk us upstairs. I had two nice small rooms. The two maids, Lenchen and Lad}' Churchill, and Brown were all in our passage, awa)' from the rest of the house, I felt tired, sad, and bewildered. For the Hrst time in my life 1 was alone in a strani^e house, without eitluT molhcror husbnnel, and the thought overwhelmed aiid distressed me deeply. I had a dear child with me, but tlu.se. lovintx ones above me were both gone, — iheir support taken away ! It seemed so dieadfi:! ! 1 low man)' visits we paid together, my darling and I, and how we ever enjoyed them! Even wlien they were trying and formal, the hap- piness of being together, and a world in ourselves, was so oreat. Dinner was below, in a pretty room which I also remembered. Only Lord Dalhousie, Lady Christian, the General, Lady Churchill, Lenchen, and L I stayed but a short while below after dinner, and then went up with Lenchen and Jane Churchill, and afterwards walked out a little with Jane. It was very warm. a w CD. ' u I i. ? I : t f- f& ( -^S ) IVcdiicsday, Scj^tcuibc)' 20. A bnautifiil morning-. Brcakfastixl alore with Lcnchcn in my own little sitting-room — waited on l)y Brown, who is always ready to try to do aii)- tiiing required. At eleven we went out, and I planted two trees, and Lenchen one (instead of her blessed Father, alas !) We then mounted our ponies as yesterday, and proceeded (accom{)anied by Lord Dalhoiisie, Lady Christian, and several of his foresters) by a shorter road past the well, where we did not get off, up the Ladacr Bum, on our homeward journey. We went the same way, stopping at the " INIarch," where, in a high wind, we got off and lunched under some stones. Good Lord Dalhousie * was most hospitable and kind. The luncheon over, they took leave and went back, and General Grey went on in advance. As it was only one o'clock when we sat down to luncheon, we remained sitting some little time before we commenced our downward course. It was to-day — strange to say — the anniversary of our first visit to Invcnuark. Then we proceeded down * He died in 1874. ■0] ^ M, -^■ w a a ( 29 ) llic samc! way \vc IkuI come up, across the Tanar, and \\\\v.\\ we had ^oik! up sonic httle way we stopped a_L;ain, as we were anxious not to hurry home, and moreover the carriai^e would not have been ready to meet us. We had some tea, sketclied a little, and rode on again ; the sky had become dark and cloudy, and suddenly down came a most violent shower of rain which beaf fiercely with the wind. \Vc were just then going over the boggy part, which, however, we got across very well. As we came over the Polach the rain ceased. The view of tlic Valley of the Gaini and Miiich as you descend is beautiful, and reminded me forcibly of our last happy expedition in 1861, when Albert stopped to talk to Grant about the two forests, and said he and Grant might possibly be dead before they were completed ! There lay the land- scape stretched out — the same as before ; and all else w^as changed ! We got home at ten minutes past seven o'clock, when it was still raining a little. c& ff d3^ ( 30 ) First Visit to Dunkeld. -a I I i Monday, October o^, 1865. A thick, misty, very threatening morningr! There wa'^ no help for it, but it was sadly pro- voking. It was the same once or twice in former happy days, and my dear Albert always said we could not alter it, but must leave it as it was, and make the best of it. Our three little ones break- dusted with me. I was grieved to leave my pre- cious Baby and poor Leopold behind. At ten started with Lenchen and Janie Ely (the same attendants on the box). General Grey had gone on an hour and a half before. We took post-horses at Castleton. It rained more or less the whole time. Then came the long well-known stage to ^Ci\^Spitalof Glenshee, which seemed to me longer than ever. The mist hung very thick over the hills. We changed horses there, and about a ^ # -a 1865. lorninor I dly pro- 1 former said we vas, and s break- my pre- At ten le same ad gone U-horses e whole stage to e longer )ver the about a ff 3i f r j 7. ' i i : , -a ^ESSSSSSSSS ; 1 V( :'} \i I i a- a ( 31 ) qiinrter of an hour after we had left it, we stopped to lunch in the carriage. After some delay we went on and turned into StyathardlCy and then, leaving the Blairgowrie road, down to the farm o{ Pitcarniich, shortly before coming to which Mr. Small Keir * of Kindrogan met us and rode before us to this farm. Here we found General Grey and our ponies, and here the dear Duchess of A thole and Miss MacGregor met us, and we got out and went for a short while into the farmhouse, where we took some wine and biscuit. Then we mounted our ponies (I on dear Fyvie, Lenchen on Brechin), and started on our course across the hill. There was much mist. This obscured all the view, which otherwise would have been very fine. At first there was a rough road, but soon there was nothing but a sheep-track, and hardly that, through heather and stones up a pretty steep hill. Mr. Keir could not keep up with the im- mense pace of Brown and Fyvie. which distanced every one ; so he had to drop behind, and his keeper acted as guide. There was by this time heavy driving rain, with a thick mist. About a little more than an hour took us to the " March," * His father was presented to me at Dunk eld in 1842. i} —yj tl dB- ( .?-' ) where two of tlic D^inkcld men met ii'^, Jolin McGregor, the Duke's head wood-forester, and Gregor McGregor, the Duchess's gamekeeper ; and the former acted as a guide. The Duchess and Miss MacGrecfor were ridinof with us. We went from here through larch woods, the rain pouring at times violently. We passed (after crossing the Diinkeld March) Little Loch OisJine, and Loch Oishne, before coming to Loch Ordie. Here drippin^^ wet we arrived at about a quarter- past six, having left Pitcarniich at twenty minutes to four. It was dark already from the very bad weather. We went into a lodo-e here, and had tea and whisky, and Lenchen had to get herself dried, as she was so wet. About seven we drove off from Loch Ordie. There was no outrider, so we sent on first the other carriage w^ith Lenchen,, Lady Ely, and Miss MacGregor, and General Grey on the box, and I went with the Duchess in a phaeton which had a hood — Brown and Grant going behind. It was pitch-dark, and we had to go through a wood, and I must own I was some- what nervous. We had not gone very far when we perceived that we were on a very rough road, and I became ^ S *:. 1 ime . cS- 1 00 ) much alarmed, tliouoh I would say nothing. A Ijiv.nch took off Grant's cap, and we had to stop for Brown to go back and look for it with one of the carriage-lamps. This stoppage was most for- tunate, for he then discovered we were on a com- pletely wrong road. Grant and Brown had both been saying, ** This is no carriage-road ; it is full of holes and stones." Miss MacGregor came to us in great distress, saying she did not know what to do, for that the coachman, blinded by the driving rain, had mistaken the road, and that we were in a track for carting wood. What was to be done, no one at this moment seemed to know — whether to try and turn the carriage (which proved impos- sible) or to take a horse out and send the pos ilion back to LocU Ordie to get assistance. At length we heard from General Grey that we could go on, though where we should get out, no one could exactly tell. Grant took a lamp out of the carriage and walked before the horses, while Brown led them ; and this reassured me. But the road was very rough, and we had to go through some deep holes full of water. At length, in about twenty minutes, we saw a light and passed a lodge, where we stopped and inquired where we were, for wc [y_.- -a izt c& ■a ( 34 ) Iiad already come upon a good road. Our relief was great when we were told we were all right. Grant and Brown got up behind, and we trotted alonGf the hUA\ road fast enoun^h. Just before we came to the lodge, General Grey called out to ask Avhich way the Duchess thought we should go, and Brown answered in her name, " The Duchess don't know at all where we are," as it was so dark she could not recognise familiar places. At Icngtii at ci quarter to nine we arrived quite safely at Dunl:cldy at the Duchess's nice, snug little cottage, wlilcli is just outside the town, surrounded by fine large grounds. Two servants in kilts, and the steward, received us at the door. You come at once on the middle landiucr of the staircase, the cottage being built on sloping ground. The Duchess took me to my room, a nice little room, next to which v.as one for my wardrobe maid, Mary Andrews.* Lenchcn was upstairs near Miss MacGregor on one side of the drawing-room, which was given up to me as my sitting-room, and the Duchess's room on the other. Brown, the only other servant in the house, below, Grant in the adjoining buildings * She left my service in iS66. ^ ^- -•-EP ■^ the :he igs -.-ff i»' i 1 ( 00 ) to the house. The General and Lady Ely were at the hotel. We dined at half-past nine in a small dininq^-room below, only Lenchen, the Duchess, Miss MacGregor, and I. Everythini:;- so nice and quiet. The Duchess and Miss MacGregor carving, her three servants waiting. They were so kind, and we talked over the day's adventures. Lenchen and every one, except the Duchess and myself, had been drenched. The Duchess and her cousin stayed a short while, and then left us, and 1 wrote a little. Strange to say, it was four years to-day that we paid our visit to Blair and roJe up Glcu Tilt. How different! Tticsday, October lo. A hopelessly wet morning. I had slept well, but felt sad on awaking. Breakfasted alone with Lenchen downstairs, each day waited on by Brown. A dreadful morning, pouring rain. Sat upstairs i»i the drawing-room, and wrote a good deal, being perfectly quiet and undisturbed. Lenchen and I lunched with the Duchess and Miss MacGregor, and at four we drove up to the Duchess's very fme model farm of St. Colmes, ^ ft na -ff c& -"fh ( 3'-' ) about frjur miles from Duiikcld\ the Duchess aiul I in the phaeton, Lcnchen, Janie Ely, and Miss MacGi'C'''or Lroiu>: in the other carriaiie. We went all ovc;r the farm in detail, which is very like ours at Oshonic and Witidsor, nufch havin<;- been adopted from our farms there ; and my dearest Husband had i/iven the Duchess so much advice about it, that we both felt so sad he shculd not see it. We took tea in the farmhouse, where the Duchess has kept one side quite for herself, and where she intends to live sometimes with Miss JMacGregor, and aim. \. by themselves. From here we drove back and stopped at the " Byres'' close by the stables, which were lit up with gas, and where we saw all the cows being milked. Very fine Ayrshire cowS; and nice dair}maids. It is all kept up just as the late Duke wished it. We came home at past seven. It never ceased raining. The Cathedral bell began quite unexpectedly to ring, or almost toll, at eight o'clock, which the Duchess told us was a very old custom — in fact, the curfew-bell. It sounds very melancholy. Dinner just as yesterday. ^ ■ff -a B .-H — • •-. -fh ( 37 ) U J la/;: i\. dry, Ocfobcr 7 f. Another wretchedly wet morninc,''. Was niucli chstressed at breakfast to find that poor Ih'own's Ici^s had been dreadfully cut by the edge of his wet kilt on Monday, just at the back of th(i knee, and he said nothing about it ; but to-day one became so inflcuncd, and swelled so niucli, that he could hardly move. The doctor said he must keep it up as much as possible, and walk very little, but did not forbid his going out with the carriai^e, which he wished to do. I did not <'0 out in the morning, and decided to remain ti.l Friday, to give the weather a chance. It cl(\'iied just before lunck.eon, and we agreed to take a drive, which we were able to do almost without any rain. At half-past three we drove out just as yesterday. There was no mist, so that, though there was no sunshine, we could see and admire the country, the scenery of which is beautiful. We drove a mile along the Blair Road to Polncy Loch, where we entered the woods, and, skirting the loch, drove at the foot of Craig y Barns on grass drives — which were very deep and rough. ■ff ^ .-.-C3 rfl- -Eh ! ( 38 ) owInjT^ to the wc t wcalliLr, but extremely pretty — on to the Lo:k Ordic road. After ascending this for a Htile way we left it, driving all round Cally Loch (there are innumerable lochs) through Cally Gardens along another fine but equally rough wood drive, which comes out on the Jjlairgoivrie high road. After this we drove round the three Lochs of the Lowes — viz. Crafo^ Lus/i, Jhit'crstonc, and the /.och of the Lowes itself (which is the largest). They are surrounded by trees and woods, of which therq is no end, and arc very pretty. W'e came back by the Blairgoivrie road and drove thiough D2inkeld{\\\Q. people had been so discreet and quiet, I said 1 would i ^ a a . ( 47 ) a pony for Arthur, which he did not ride, and for Grant or any one who was tired. The dear Duchess of Athole and Miss MacGre^for came to meet us here, and when we had reached the spot where the road turns up the hill, we found Mr. Keir and his son, and Mr. Small of Dirnanean — a strong", good-looking, and pleasing person about thirty-two — and his men, the same two fine tall men, preceding us as last year. It was a steep climb up the hill which we had then come down, and e.xcessively hot. The views both ways beauti- ful, though not clear. The air was very heavv and oppressive. We went the same way as before, but the ground was very wet from the great amount of rain. We stopped a moment in passing, at Dirnanean, to speak to Miss Small, Mr. Small's sister, a tall, stout young lady,* and then went on to Kindroo-an, Mr. Keir's. All about here the people speak Gaelic, and there are a few who do not speak a word of English. Soon after entering Mr. Keir's grounds we got off our ponies, and went along a few yards by the side of the river Ardle to where Mr. Keir had got a fire kindk-d and * Their father, a ir.an of immense size, was presented to mc at Duiikcld in 1842. fQ- ■ff il i ; c£h- -Q] ta ( 48 ) a k<*ttle boilings plaids spread and tea prepared. Mrs. Keirand her two daiiL{hters were there. She is a nice quiet person, and was a Miss Menzies, dautrhter of Sir Niel Menzies, whom I saw at Ta)moiUk in 1842, Only we ladles remained. The tea ov • V' wrJked np to the liouse, which is a nice coriiff^r'ible one. We waited here a little while, anu I i^ ^ at the door Major Balfour of Fcrnic, the intended bridegroom of Mr. Keir's youngest daughter. At a little over a quarter- past five started in my sociable, with Louise and die Duchess. We came very fast and well with the Duchess's horses by exactly the same road we drove from Diuikcld last year. The horses were watered at the small halfway house of nallinlnig, and we reached Ditukuld in perfect safety at ten minutes past seven. I am where I was before, Louise in Lenchen's room, and Arthur in a room next to where Brown was be- fore, and is now. All the rest the same, and snug, peaceful, and comfortable. ^ 11 --ff t il a ^ "-& ( 49 ) Dunkeld, Tuesday, October .'^. Mikl X^ on the road * Emilie Dittweiler, my first dresser, a native of Carlt-ruhe, in the Grand Duchy of Baden, who has been twenty-four years in my service. t My first wardrobe woman, who has been twenty seven years in my service, daughter of Mitchel, tlie late blacksmith at Clachanturn, near Abergeldie, and widow of my footman, John Macdonald, who died in 1865 (77^'^ " Our Life in the High- lands"). -ff e- ■tt ^■ ( 50 ) of the Lor/i of the Lonirs, whore wo q-ot on ponies and rode for about an hour and a half tlirougli beautiful woods (saw a capercailzie, of which there are many here), but in a very thick mist (with very fine rain) which entirely destroyed all idea of view and prevented one's seeing anything but what was near. We came down to Si. Colnic's, where we got off, but where again, like last year, we saw nothinof of the beautiful view. Here we took tea out of the tea-set I had given the Duchess. She has furnished all her rooms here so prettily. How Albert would have liked all this! Dinner as yesterday. Ih^own waited at dinner. lJ\'dncsda)\ October 3. Just returned from a beautiful and successful journey of seventy miles (in ten hours and a half). I will try and begin an account of it. At nine the Duchess sent up to say she thought the mist would clear off (it was much the same as yesterday), and to suggest whether we had not better try and go as far as her horses would take us, and return if it was bad. I agreed readily to this. Arthur left before our breakfast to go to the Pass of W \\ ^ L Q - -a 51 J\illia')-a}i\'ic wilh Lruly Kly nnd GoiKiral diTy. At a quarter past ten. well provided, we starleii, Louise, the Duchess, iMiss MacGre^or, and I (in our riding habits, as tliey take less room). The mist was very tliick at fir.^t, and even accompanied by a h'ttlc drizxhu*;' rain, so that we couhl see ncuie of the distant hills and scenery. We crossed the Tav Bridoc, drove throucrh Little Dnukcld and alon^;' the Brajn throug^h Invcr (where Niel Cow, the fiddler, lived), afterwards alongr the 7^?^ oppo- site to St. CoIui'Ss. Four miles from Diuikcld, at IiicIuuagrciJiacfian Farm, the Iliolilands are sup- posed to begin, and this is one of the boundaries ol Athole, We drove throui^h some beautiful woods ■ — oak and beech with brushwood, reminding one of Windsor Park — overtopped by rocks. A mile further Da lionise begins (the property of Mr. Stewart, now at the Cape of Good IIopi), which is remarkable for two large orchards at either end the trees laden with fruit in a way that reminded me of Gennany. Kinnaird is next, the jointure house of the late Lady Glenlyon (mother to the late Duke). Just beyond this the Timimel and the Tay join at the point of Logicrait. We now entered Strath Tay, still the Duke of -ff \y' 1 1 -^ff cB- / 52 ) Atliolc's property, on iho side along which \vc drove. J he 'l\iy is a fine laruj^e river ; there are many small properties on the opposite side in the woods. The mist was now less thick and there was no rain, so that all tlie near country could be well seen. Post-horses from 1^'isher of Casllitoiis brother, the innkeeper at Dnnk'cld, were waiting for us at S/d(uaii, a little beyond Ihilnagnard (where we changed horses in 1842, and this was the very same road we took then). Now an un- sightly and noisy railroad runs along this beautiful gl(Mi, from Dimkcld as far as Abcrfcldy. We passed, close to the road, Grandtully Castle, be- longing to Sir William Stewart, and rented by the Maharajah Duleep Singh. It is a curious old casde, much in the style of Abergcldic, with an avenue of trees leading up to it. At Abcrfcldy, a pretty village opposite to Castle Alcnzics, one or two people seemed to know us. We now came in among fine high-wooded hills, and here it was much clearer. We were in the Breadalbane '^xo'^^xi^ Txw^ approaching Tayvioiith. We passed, to the left, Bolfrax, where Lord Breadalbane's factor still lives, and to the right the principal lodge of Taynioul/i, which I so well ri' I ^ W ■ff f [& ( 53 ) ^' rt.'mcinbcr goinr in by ; but as we coulJ not hnvo driven through iht'. grounds without asking per- mission and becoming known, which for various reasons wc did not wisli, we deeded on not attem[)ting it, and contented ourselves with getting out at a gat", close to a small fort, into which we were admitt(!d by a woman from the gardener's house, close to which we stopped, and who had no idea wlio we wc^re. * We Cfot out and looked down from this height upon th(i house below, the mist having cleared away sufficiently to show us everything ; and here unknown, quite in private, I gazed, not without deep inward emotion, on the scene of our reception, twenty-four years ago, by dear Lord Breadalbane in a princely style, not to be equalled for grandeur and poetic effect ! Albert and I were only twenty-three, young and happy. How many are gone who were with iis then 1 I was very thankful to have seen it again. It seemed unaltered.* Everything was dripping from the mist. Taymoutk is twenty-tv;o miles from Diinktld. We got into the carriage again ; the Duchess * The passage between the asterisks was 'juo'.cd in a note in "Our l.i;"e in the Iligluands," pa^je 22. 4:^ ff Ml . it I , i -•^ ( 54 ) this time sitting' near to me to prevent our appear- ance creating suspicion as lo my being there. We drove on a short way througli splendid woods with httle waterfalls, and then turned into the little village of Kcuiiiorc, where a tr)st was being held, through the midst of which we had to drive ; but the people only recognised the Duchrss. There was music croinc*" on, thir s bcinsf sold at booths, and on the small sloping green near the church cattle and ponies were corected — a most picturesque scene. Iiumedlately after this we came upon the bridge, and Loch Tay, with its wooded banks, clear and yet misiy, burst into view. This again reminded me of the past — of the row up the loch, which is sixteen miles long, in 1842, in several boats, with pibrochs pla)'ing, and the boatmen sinoino- wild Gaelic sonps. The McDouiJall steered us ihtn, and showed us the real Brooch of Lome taken from Robert Bruce. To the right v/e could see the grounds and fine park, looking rather like an English one. \Vc stopped at Afurrays Lodge, but, instead of chang- ing horses here, drove five miles up the loch, which was quite clear, and the stillness so great that the rellection en tl^e hil.e's be .som was as ■b -i a i f -a ( 55 ) strongr as tiioiigh it were a real landscape. Mere we stopped, and got out and sat down on the shore of the loch, which is covered with fine quartz, of which we picked up some ; took our luncheon about half-past one, and then sketched. By this time the mist had given way to tlie sun, and the lake, with its richly wooded banks and changing foh-ii^e, looked beautiful. At half-past two we re-entered our carriage, the horses liaving been changed, and drove back up a steep liill, crossing the river Lyo7i and going into Glenlyon, a beautiful wild glen with high green hills and rocks and trees, which I remember quite well driving through in KS42 — then also on a misty day : the mist hung over, and even in sonie places below the tops of the hills. W^e i)assed several small places — Giculyon Jfousc, tlie property of F. G. Campbell of Troitp. To the left also FortinQal viikiQfe — Sir Robert Menzics' — and a new ])lace called /J^^/z/^rc'^?// House. Small, picturesque, and very fair cottages were dotted about, and there were others in small clusters ; beautiful sycamores and other trees were to be seen near the riverside. We then passed the village of Cosliicvillc, and turned by the hill-road — -EP ^ ff a- ( 56 ) up a very steep hill with a burn flowing at the bottom, much wooded, reminding- me of JlT/n- roys Burn — passed the ruins of the old castle of the Stewarts of Garth, and then came on a dreary wild moor — passing below Sc/iic/iallion, one of the high hills— and at the summit of the road came to a small loch, called Ccannaii'dicJie, Soon after this we turned down the hill again into woods, and came to Timuncl Bridge, where we changed horses. Here were a few, but very few people, who I think, from what Brown and Grant — who, as usual, were in attendance — said, recrgiiised us, but behaved extremely well, and did not come near. This was at twenty minutes to four. We then turned as it were home- wards, but had to make a good long circuit, and drove aloncf the side of Loch Ttnuincl, hii>ii above the loch, through birch wood, which grows along the hills much the same as about Birk- hall. It is only three miles long. Here it was again very clear and bright. At the end of the loch, on a highish point called after me " The Queens View " — though I had not been there in 1844 — we got out and took tea. But this was a long and unsuccessful business ; the fire would e I tg- L- 1 h i ft W' d> ( 57 ) not burn, and the kettle would not boil. At length Brown ran off to a cottage and returned after some little winle with a can full of hot water, but it was no Ioniser boilincf when it arrived, and the tea w^is not good. Then all had to be packed, and it made us very late. It was fast growing dark. We passed Alleitie, Sir Robert Colqulioun's place, almost immediately after this, and then, at about half-past six, changed horses at the Bridge of Garry, near, or rather in the midst of, the Pass of Killiccrankie\ but from the lateness of the hour and the dullness of the evenino^ — for it was rainincr — we could see hardly an)'thing. We went through Pitlochry, where we were recognised, but got quite quietly through, and reached Ballnilitig^ where the Duchess's horses were put on, at a little before half-past seven. Mere the lamps were lit, and the good people had put two lighted candles in each window ! They offered to bring " Athole brose," which we, however, declined. The people pressed round the carriage, and one man brought out a bull's-eye lantern which he turned upon nu^ But Brown, who kept quite close, put himself a & — & L cfl- ( 5S ) between me and the glare. \Vc ought to have been home in less than an hour from this time, but we had divers impediments — twice the plaid fell out and had to be picked up ; and then the lamp which I had given to the Duchess, like the one our outrider carries, was lit, and the coachman who rode outrider, and v^'ho was not accustomed to use it, did not hold it rightly, so that it went out twice, and had to be relit eacli time. So we only got home at a quarter to nine, and dined at twenty minutes past nine. But it was a very interesting day. We must have gone seventy four miles. Thursday, Ocfcbcr 4. Again heavy mist on the hills — most provoking — but without rain. The Duchess came to ask if I had any objection to the servants and gillies having a dance for two hours in the evening, to which I said, certainly not, and that I would go to it myself. At a quarter to twelve I rode in the grounds with the Duchess, going round Bishop' s Hill and up to the Kings Seal, a good height, among the most splendid trees — beeches, oaks, Scotch firs, spruce — really quite like ]Vind- -ft tt -.J — -EH -EP 1 N a ( 59 ) SOI', and reminding me of those fine trees at the BehUcre, and a good deal of RcinJiardtsbrunn (in the forest of T/uu iiigta). But though less heavy than the two preceding mornings and quite dry, it was too hazy to see any chstant hills, and Cioi^ y Barns, that splendid rocky, richly wooded hill overtopping the wiiole, only peeped through tlie mist occasicnallv. From the A7//^V Seal we came down by the fort and upon the old " Oiler Hound Kcnnclsl' where we saw Mrs. Fisher, the mother of Agnes Brierly, who was formerly schoolmistress to the Lochnagar girls' school near Balnioral. We came in at a little after one, ex- pecting it would clear and become much finer, instead of which it got darker and thicker. At twenty minutc^s to four drove with the Duchess, ]\Iiss MacGregor and Janie Ely follow- ing, to Loch- Cliinie by the Loch of I he Lo7c>es, and passed Laigliwood Luuni. \V( drove roun^.! tlie loch ; saw and stopped to sk ch the old castiidsor fog^, but pcrfecily dry. We stopped to take tea at Ntivty-c, a farm of the Duchess, about two miles from Diinkcld, where she has a small room, and which supplies turnips, etc., for the fine dairy cows. We got home by five minutes to seven. We passed through the town, where the people appeared at their doors cheering, and the children made a great noise. Dinner as before. At half-past ten we went down (through the lower passages) to the servants' hall, in which the little dance took place. All the Duchess's servants, the wives of the men-servants, thq keepers, the wood-forester (J. M'Gregor, who has an extensive charge over all the woods on the Atholc property), the gar- dener, and some {wq or six others who belono- to my guard (eight people, belonging to the Duchess or to the town, who take their turn of watching twoby two at night), besides all our servants, were there ; only Grant and two of the gillies did not appear, which vexed us ; but the gillies had not any proper shoes, they said, and therefore did not come. Janie Ely came ; also Mr. Keir, and both were very active ; General Grey only looked in for ^ ff n itr ^^^ -ff c& ( 6i ) a moment, as he was suffering severely from cold. The fiddlers played in very good time, and the dancing was ver)- animated, and went on without ceasing. Louise and Arthur both danced a good deal. Nothing but reels were danced. Even the Duchess's old French maid, Clarice, danced! She no lonijer acts as the Duchess's maid, but still lives near, in the adjacent so-called " brick buildings." Friday, October 5. A brighter morning, though still hazy. The sun came out and the mist seemed dispersing. At twenty minutes to one started with the Duchess and Louise, the two ladies following, for Lock Ordie. Several times during the drive the mist regained its mastery, but then again the sun struggled through, blue sky appeared, and tlie mist seemed to roll away and the hills and woods to break through. We drove by Craig Liish and Bntterstone Lochs , and then turned by the lUcc/iip Burn — up a very steep hill, finely wooded, pacing by Riechip and Raeuiore, two of the Duke of Athole's shooting lodges, both let. After the last the road opens upon a wild moor (or " mulr") for 4 ff a — .^^^, — ».- l3 { 62 ) a sliort wliik', ])(:SiA'c c.nVn'ln^y the plantatu ns ar.d woods of Loc/i Ordic. Here, quite close to tlie lodge, on the grass, we took hincheon. The Duchess Imd had a hot venison pie brought, whicli was very acceptable. The sun Iiad come out, and it was deh'ghtfully warm, with a blue sky and bright Ho;lUs, and we sat sketchinqr for some time. The good pco[)le have made a cairn amongst the trees where we had tea last year. At four we drove away, and went by the road which leads towards Tnllyuict, and out of tlie woods by Hardy s Lodf^e, near a bridge. We stopped at a very picturesque place, surrounded by woods and hills and little shiels, reminding me of the Laucha Gruud at Rcinhardlsbrunn. Opposite to this, on a place called Ruidh Rein- nick, or the " ferny shieling," a fire was kindled, and we took our tea. We then drove back by the upper Si. Colmes Road, after which we drove through the town, up Bridj^e Street, and to the Afarlcet Cross, where a fountain is beine erected in memory of the Duke. We went to see the dairy, and then came home on foot at a quarter to seven. Rested on the sofa, as my head was bad ; it got better, however, after dinner. Lt3- ■ff £ a (>5 Safitrday, October 6. A bcaiiliful, bright, clear moniing, most [ ro- vokingly so. After breakfast at half-past nine, we left, with real regret, the kind Duchess's hospitable house, where all breathes peace and harmony, and where it was so quiet and stnig. It was a real holiday for me in my present sad life. Louise and the Duchess went with me ; the others had gone on. Some of the principal people connected with the Duchess stood along the approach as we drove out. We went the usual way to Lock Ordie, and past the lodge, on to the east end of the loch, the latter part of the road being very rough and deep. Here we all mounted our ponies at half-past eleven, and proceeded on our journey. A cloudless sky, not a breath of wind, and the heat intense and sickening. We went along a sort of cart-road or track. The burn o{ Riccliip runs out of this glen, through which we rode, and which really is very beautiful, under the shoulder of Bcnachallie. The shooting tenant of Raemore, a Mr. Gordon, was out on the opposite side of the glen on a distant hill. We rode on through ^ ■ff i(5 i i> ■\t cfi- ~Q] ^ ( ''■'. ) the woods; the clay was very ha;^y. After a few miles the eastern shore of Loc/i Oishtic was reached, and we also skirted Little Loch O is/me for a few hundred yards. We followed from here the same road which we had come on that poiirlni^ afternoon in going to Dunkcld last year, till at a quarter to one we reached the Kindrof^nn March. Here Mr. Keir, his son, and his keeper met us. Thence we rode by Glen Derby, a wild open glen with moors. Descending into it, the road was soft but quite safe, having been purposely cut and put in order by Mr. Keir. We then as- cended a steepish hill, after passing a shepherd's hut. Here Arthur and General Grey rode off to Kindrogan, young Mr. Keir with them, whence they were to drive on in advance. As we de- scended, we came upon a splendid view of all the hills, and also of Glen Female, which is the way to Fealar, At half-past two we five ladies lunched on a heathery knoll, just above Mr. Keir's wood, and were indeed glad to do so, as we were tired by the great heat. As soon as luncheon was over, we walked down throu^rh the wood a few hundred yards to where the carriage was. Here s" J <\ -a Q- j ( ''5 ) wc took leave, with niucli regret, of the clear kind Duchess and amiable Miss MacGregor, and got into the carriage at halt- past three, stop- ping for a moment near Kindroi^au to wish Mrs. Kcir and her family good-bye. We drove on by Kirkniichael, and then some little way until we got into the road from Blairgowrie. The evening was quite splendid, the sky yellow and pink, and the distant hills coming out soft and blue, both behind and in front of us. We changed horses at the SpiUxl, an.l about two miles beyond it — at a place called Loch-na-Braig — vve stopped, and while Grant ran back to get from a small house some hot water in the kettle, we three, with Brown's help, scrambled over a low stone wall by the roadside, and lit a fire and prepared our tea. The kettle soon returned, and the hot tea was very welcome and refreshing. We then drove off again. The scenery was splendid till daylight gradually faded away, and then the hills looked grim and severe in the dusk. We cleared the Devil's Elbow well, how- ever, before it was really dark, and then many stars came out, and we reached Balmoral in safety at half-past eight o'clock. ^ ^ ff IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I 1.25 «^ iM, IIIII2.2 1.8 i.4 IIIIII.6 V] e". o% ^ % / Photographic Sciences Corporation . •if ":| ^e J'il a- 'fi- --a ( «3 ) Alfred's EciLicrry, Mr. Iiaig.*-* and thrc)ni;li ihe villai^G of Mcrfouu, behiiul ihv. park; and it was striking; to see the good feeling shown by tlie people, who neither displ.iyed any decorations nor cheered, though they were out and bowed, as their excellent master, Lord Polwarth, was lying dead in his house. It was nearly dark by this time, but we got well and safely home by ten minutes to nine. The Duke of Buccleuch rode with us some way beyond Glcu/sTVJod. We did not come through Kelso on our way back. In passing Mertoitn we left the old tower of SniaiUiolvi to the left, the scene of the " Eve of St. John." We only sat down to dinner at half-past nine, and I own I was very tired. The Duke of Buccleuch was only able to come when dinner was half over. Besides him the Duke and Duchess of Roxburghe, Lord Bowmont, Lady Charles Ker, and Mr. Suttie made the party at dinner. Lady Susan was prevented by indisposition from being there. Nobody could be kinder, or more discreet, or more anxious that I should be undisturbed when at home, than the Duke and Duchess. I only • He succeeded to the property in 1878. s a ff : ;! I| ^V: a- •Qj ( 84 ) stopped a few minutes downstairs after dinner, ancl then went up to my room, but it was then nearly eleven. The others went into the drawing- room to meet some of the neiirhbours. Friday, An(^ust 23. A dull mornlngf, very close, with a little inclina- tion to rain, though only for a short time. Break- fast as yesterday. At twenty minutes to eleven we started : I with our daughters and the Duchess ; Christian with dear Beatrice, the Duke of Marl- borough (the Minister in attendance), and Lady Susan Melville, in the second carriage ; and the Duke of Roxburghe, Lord Charles Fitz-Roy, Sir Thomas Biddulph, in the third, with Colonel Gordon and Dr. Jenner on the box.* We pro- ceeded through Kelso, which was very full, and the people most loyal ; by the village of Hciion, prettily decorated with an arch (two young girls dressed in white threw nosegays), and up the rivers Teviot and Jed, which flow through charm- ing valleys. The town of Jcdbiirgh is very pretti.y * Brown and the sergeant footman, Collins, were (as usual) on the seat behind my carriai;e. t^-. —a i ,ri. 1 -Bi { x ) situated, and is about the same size as A'l/so, Old)' without its large shops. It is, however, die capital of the county. It was very crowded, aiul very prettily decorated. The town is full of histo- rical recollections. Kin;^^ Malcolm IV. died there; William the Lion and Alexander II. resided tliere ; Alexander III. married his second wife, jijlelta, daughter of the Comte de Dreux, there ; and Queen Mary was the last sovereign who came to administer severe justice. The Duchess pointed out to me a house up a side street in the town where Queen Mar)- had lived and been ill with (ever. In the scpiare an address was [)rc- sentcd, just as at Kelso, and then we went on downi a steep hill, having a very good view of the old Abbey, as curious in its way as Melrose, and also founded by David I. There is a very fine ruined abbey in Kelso also. There were four pretty triumphal arches ; one with two very well chosen inscriptions, viz., on one side '* Freedom makes all men to have lyking," and on the other side ** The love of all thy people comfort thee." We went on through a beautiful wooded valley up the Jed, in the bank of which, in the red stone, [^ -ET : M: i' i^ S f -• — ( 8^ ) arc caves in wlilch the Covenanters were liid. We passed Lord Cianstoun's place, CrailiUi^, aiul then turned, and close before the town we turned into Jed Foi'cst — up an intcrniinahK,' hill, which v/as very tryini^ to the horses and the postilions— and returned throu'>!i the ''•rounds o{ //ariri''i^t\ tlie late; Lord Campbell's, now occupied by a Mr. Gordon. \Vc then returned by the same road we came, passing Kirkbank, belon<;in!^r to the Duke of Ihic- cleuch, where his late brother, Lord John Scott, used to live. Here the horses were watered. We stopped for a few minutes, and the Duke of Biiccleuch, who had ridden with us the greater part of the way, into Jedburgh and back to this place, took leave. We only got home near three o'clock. We lunched at once, and then I rested. Oi.ly at half- past six did I go out with Lenchen and the gootl Duchess, and walked with them to the flower- garden, where, as it began to rain, we took tea in the small room there. Lenchen walked back with the Duchess, who returned to me, and I sat out a little while with her, and then walked back to tiie house. It was a very oppressive even in Of. -ff "l.1 cfJ-* a ( '^7 ) At half-past ci;^lu wv. dinctl. The Duko and Duchess, Mr. and Lady Charlotte Russell, antl Lord Charles Ker dined. Went upstairs and wrote. At ten niiiuiles to eleven we left Floors^ where I had been most kindly received, and iiau heen very conifortahle and enjo\'ed all I saw, and fcilt much all the kindness of hi;,;h. and low. The carriat^es were open, and the ni^ht very warm and starlii-ht. There were lamps all alont"- the drive in the Park; the bridi^e was ilhmn'iiated, and so was the whole town, throu<>h which we went at a foot's pace. It was densely crowded, the square esp^ecially, and the [ujoide ver\' enthusi- astic. 'Hie dear Duch.ess weiit with us to the station, whither tli'. Duke and his sons had pre- ceded us with the others. It was a very pretty sight. The In-cc KiiL\ a j.retty building, was lit up with red liL.du, which almost gave it the appearance of being on fire. We took leave of the dear Duchess and the Duke, got into our railway carriage, and started at once. F ^ ■ff I ■' a- ^'^ , Wi: ^ ( 88 ) Sat7trda)\ August 24. We passed through EdiiibiwgJi. At eiglit a.m. we were at Ballatcr. Some coffee and tea were handed in to 113 before we left the train and got into our carriages. A fine and very mild morning, the heather hardly out, but all very green ; and at ten minutes to nine we were at our dear Balmoral. ■^ An 4 '-•tlb I H;i -£ti (B-- ( 89 ) ^ 4. A.M. ,vere got ther utes Visit to Glenfiddicij. Tuesday, Scptciuhcr 24, 1867. A hrfcrlu mornin.ir, but a fearful Q-ale blowine. The maids, Emilie and Annie and Lady Churchill's maid, with Ross and the luggage, started at a little past seven. Breakfasted at a quarter past nine ; and at ten, taking leave of Lenchen, darling Beatrice, and the boys, and Christian, started with Louise and Jane Churchill— Brown, as usual, on the box. Sir Thomas Biddulph had gone on at eight. We drove up by Alt Craichie on to Gairnshiel, and anything like the wind I cannot describe. It blew through everything. Just beyond Gairnshid Vv-e took another change of my own horses, which took us up that very steep hill called Glaschoil. Here wc met the luggage with Blakc,* which had * A f.jotinan, now one of the Pa-es uf tlio ri-...scr.cc. ■"4? ±f -y? a- Q] ( 90 ) stuck completely, but was going on with the help of four cart or farm horses, and then we went on l)y Tortia/iois/i and Cock Briggy where we crossed tlie Don. At the small inn at the foot of the hill, called Bn'(/i^e Bud, we found the maids' carriage haltinor. They were waitinc: for the lup'Lraire, luit we sent them on. Our postilions next took a wrong road, and we had to gc^t out to enalde tb.em to turn. Then came a very steep hill, the be- ginning of very wild and really grand scenery. Louise and Jane Churchill walked up to the top of this hill, and then we went down another very steep one, seeing a fearfully long ascent before us. \Vc changed horses, and took a pair of post-horses here. Steep green hills with a deep ravine on our left as we went up, and then down again, this fearful hill — surely three miles in. ler»gth — called Lccht. At the bottom we entered a glen, or raih(.'r pass, very wild, and the road extremely bad, with rapid turniiigs. Near this there are iron mines belonging to the Duke of Richmond. Here we met a drove of very fine Highland cattle grazing. Turning out of this glen we came into much more cultivated land with farms and trees, skirted by hills in the distance — all very clear, as LI '^ --Q] a ■a Jlal ( 91 ) the views had been all along. By half-past one we came close by Toiuintotil, which lies very prettily amongst the trees, hills, and fields ; then leaving it to our left, we went on about a mile and a half be}'ond the town ; and iiere by tlie roadside, on some grass below a heathery bank, at about a quarter-past two, we took our luncheon, and walked a little. The Duke of RichmoFid's keeper, Lindsay by name, joined us h.ere and rode before us. We changed horses (again a pair) and drove on, entering Glen Livet throuidi the small villac^e of K^wckandlm — Blair findy Castle on the left, just behind the celebrated Gleiilivet Distillery. We drove on six miles ; pretty country all along, distant high hills and richly cultivated land, with houses and cottages doited about. At Toninavoulin, a farm, not far from a bridge, w^e met Sir Thomas Biddulph (who had driven on in a dogcart) and our ponies. Though the wind had gone down a good deal, iliere was quite enough to make it disagreeable and fatiguing, and so w^e decided to drive, and Sir Thomas said he would ride across with the ponies and meet the Duke, while his head keeper was to come on the box with Brown and show us '^ " '^'i#. ^- -EP !i V rfh ( 92 ) the way (Grrint did not j^U) with us this tim(j). \Vc drove on for an hour and mere, havini^ entered Glen Rinucs shortly after l^omjiavotilin, with the hills of Ben Rinnes on the left. There were fine large fields of turnips, pretty hills and dales, with wood, and distant high hills, but nothing grand. The day became duller, and the mist hung over the hills ; and just as we sat down by the roadside on a heathery bank, where there is a very pretty view of Glenlivct, to take our tea, it began 10 rain, and continued doing so for the remainder of the evening. Lindsay, the head keeper, fetched a ketle with boiling water from a neighbouring farmhouse. About two miles beyond this we came through Dufftown — a small place wath a long steep street, very like Grajitown — and then turned abruptly to the right past AucJiin- doun, leaving a pretty glen to the left. Three miles more brought us to a lodge and gate, which was the entrance of Glenfiddich. Mere you go quite into the hills. The glen is very narrow, with the Fiddicli flowing below, green hills rising on either side with birch trees growing on them, much like at luchrory, only narrower. We saw deer on the tops of the hills close by. The carriage- t -a tf M ■^ ifl- time). haviivj V oil tin. There lis and Is, but nd the t down e there ; before dinner. The Duke (who remained at GlcnJiddicJi) and Sir Thomas dined with us ladies. None of the maids or servants had any change of clothing. Dinner over, I went with Louise and Jane to the drawing-room, which was given me as my sitting-room, and Jane read. While at dinner at half-past nine, Ross told us that Blake, the footman, had arrived with some of the smaller things, but none of the most necessary — no clothes, etc. The break with the Inggage had finally broken down at Toinintoul\ from thence Blake had gone with a cart to Ditfftoivn, where he had got a small break, and brought the light things on, but the heavier luggage was coming in a cart, and they hoped would be here a 'I -fb [& ife- -a ( 95 ) by twelve o'clock. At first it seemed as If no horses were to be had, and it was only with the greatest difficulty that some were at last ob- tained. Louise and Jane Churchill left me at near eleven o'clock. I sat up writing and waiting for this luggage. A man was sent out on a pony with a lantern in search of it, and I remained Vv'riting till a quarter- past twelve, when, feeling ver)' tired, I lay down on the sofa, and Brown (who was indefatigable) went out himself to look for it. At one, he came back, saying nothing was to be seen or heard of this luckless luggage, and urged my going to bed. My maids had unfortunately not thought of bringing anything with them, and I disliked the idea of going to bed without any of the neces- sary toilette. However, some arrangements were made which were very uncomfortable ; and after two I got into bed, but had very little sleep at first ; finally fatigue got the better of discomfort, and after three I fell asleep. -« — & cfi- .r.' 4>«^aik.^ Qj ( C;6 ) Wednesday, Scpieiuher 25. Slept soundly till half-past seven, and heard that the luggage had only arrived at half-past four in the morning. Breakfasted with Louise, who made my coffee beautifully with Brown, who waited at breakfast, Ross coming in and out with what had to be carried. It rained soon after I got up, and continued raining till near eleven. I read and wrote, etc. At half-past eleven, it having cleared, I rode up the small narrow glen, down which flows a " burnie" (called the Gardeji Burn), the banks covered with fern and juniper, heather and birch, etc., past the kitchen-garden. Louise walked with me. Went up nearly to the top and walked down it again, then on to the stables, which are at a small distance from the house, where I saw an old underkeeper, P. Stewart by name, seventy-four years old, with a Peninsular and Waterloo medal, who had been in the 92nd Highlanders, and was a great favourite of the late Duke's. Home by twenty minutes to one. The day became very fine and warm. Lunched in my own room with Louise at the same small * ^ -a ■1:3 a ^ ( 97 ) table at whicli we hdd breakfasted, Ross and tlie Duke's piper playing outside the window. After luncheon rode (on Sultan, as this morn- ing) with Louise and Jane Churchill, the Duke walking (and Jane also part of the way), down to the end of Glcnfiddich ; turning then to the left for Bndoehaugk (a ford), and going on round the hill of Ben Main. We first went along the road and then on the heather " squinting" the hill — hard and good ground, but disagreeable from the heather being so deep that you did not see where you were going — the Duke's forester leading the way, and so fast that Brown led me on at his full speed, and we distanced the others entirely. At five we got to the edge of a small ravine, from whence we had a fine view of the old ruined castle of Achendown, which formerly belonged to the old Lords Huntly. Here we took our tea, and then rode home by another and a shorter way — not a bad road, but on the steeper side of the hill, and quite on the slant, which is not agreeable. We came down at the ford, and rode back as we went out, getting home at seven. A very fine evening. It was very nearly dark when we reached home. I was very tired ; I am no longer equal to much fatigue. a H ff i. ■ I a- ! , ( 9S ) Thuvsday, Scptonhcv 26. Slept very well and was much rested. At half- past twelve I started with Louise on ponies (I on Sultan), and Jane Churchill, the Duke of Rich- mond, and Sir Thomas walking, rode past the stables on a o^ood road, and then turned to the riij^ht and went up Gleufiddich for about four miles. The scenery is not grand, but pretty ; an open valley with green and not very high hills, some birches, and a great deal of fern and juni- per. After about three miles the glen narrows and is extremel)' pretty ; a narrow stcej) path overhanoriniT a burn leads to a cnve, which tlie Duke said went a long way under the hill. It is called the Elf House. There is a smal) space of level ground, and a sort of seat arranged with stones, on v/hich Louise and I sat : and here we all lunched, and then tried to sketch. But I could make nothing of the cave, and therefore scrambled up part of the hill with great trouble, and tried again but equally unsuccessfully, and had to be helped down, as I had been helped up, by Brown. We were here nearly an hour, and ^- w -;' -^ ■^ d3- ""Eb tfe- ( 99 ) then, afl-cr walklni;^ down the steep path, we got on our ponies and rode up to the left, another very steep and narrow path, for a short while on tlie brink of a steep high bank with the Fiddich below. VV^e emended from this ravnie and came upon moors in the hills (the whole of this is "the forest "), and rode on a mile and a half till near the head of the Lhcton the right of the Soivic, a high, bare, heathery, mossy hill ; Cairn-ta-Briiar to the left. Here we had a fine view of Ben Aim antl BeJi-7ia-Dourd, and this was the very way we should have ridden from Toninavoulin. We had a slight sprinkling of rain, but very litde at this time. We saw eight stags together at a distance. Oh ! had dearest Albert been here with his rifle ! We rode on and back till we came to a sheltered place near the burnside, about one mile and three- quarters from Glenjiddick Lodge, where one of the Duke's keepers had prepared a fire and got a kettle boiling, and here we took our tea. After- wards I sketched, but we were surrounded by a perfect cloud of midges which bit me dreadfully. Thegendcmen left us, after tea, and walked home. I Vv^alked a little while, and then rode back by a quarter to seven. A beautiful mild evening, the H 9 ff ^ ^1 I [fl- ( ioo ) sky a lovely colour. I).Mr good Sharp* was with us and out each day, and so affocllonate. A. Thomson, S. Forbes, Kennedy, and J. Stewart, the latter with the poni(!S, as well as the Duke's forester Lindsay, were out with us. Dinner as yesterday. Jane Churchill finished readin;j " Pride and Prejudice" to us after dinner. A very clear starlight night. Friday, September 27. A fair but dull morning. These quiet break- fasts with dear Louise, who was most amiable, attentive, and cheerful, were very comfortable, just as they had been in 1 865 with good Lenchen, and in 1806 with Louise at Dwikeld. Sketched hastily the stables from one window, and the approach f-om the other. The house in itself is really a good one, the rooms so well-sized and so conveniently placed, all close to each other. The cuisine, though very simple, was excellent, and the meat etc. the very best — only a female cook. The Ouke was verv kind. At a quarter-past ten we left, taking leave of * A favourite collie of mine. a "Vr- ■ff i -q, IS witli \ncl J. I as the Dinner -cad in '1^ A very r 27. break- miable, Drtable, nchen, etched d the tself is and so The nd the cook. lave of u < C14 ^ », a; 5J5 1 !: !■ ; i I f^ W fL a ^ { i^' ) the Duke at the door • ir Tl lomas sat vvi, B rovvn on the box. The day \v as Irove precise ly th e same way as we raw. came. n I Dujftown the people had turned out, the bell was rung and the band played, but ihey seemed hardly sure till we had pas sed who it was. We drove through at a great rate. The day being fair, we could sec the country better. At one we got to the same place where we had lunched on Tuesday, and here changed horses, and Sir Thomas left us and o-Qt into his doofcart and drove after us. The sun had come out, and the day was fine and warm. As we passed Tonina- voulin, and in various other places, people were out. We drove on for about two or three miles, and then stopped at twenty minutes to two, just before we turned into the glen of the Lecht Hills ; and here just below the road, under a bank on the grass, we sat down and took our luncheon, and sketched. Sir Thomas drove on, and we saw him again rear the top of the hills, while we JDegan the first very steep ascent, which seemed almost beyond the horses' power ; but though only a pair, they got us up admirably. Brown walked by the carriage all the time, being very ft ^ 1 Sli [fi U] ( I02 ) . : anxious about the road. Then clown ever so lon^^, having a splendid view of the hills — the road being dreadfully rough and bad besides — then up again, and when it came to that very steep winding hill going down to Bridge End, we got out and walked to the bottom and aero: s the ford at TornahoUk over a foot-bridge. The view here was splendid, all the hills rising around, witli the old Castle of Corgarffy and th.c river Don with the valley of the Don-side in the foreground. Here we found our horses and drove on. It was raining at this time (about four), and it rained several times durinof the eveninix- We drove on, and after we passed Tornafioish two or th»'ee miles, and had got up the long hill, we found a sort of hole in the bank (such as are often met with where gravel and stones have been taken out), where we took our tea. The kettle took some time boiling, as we had only cold water from the burn. When we go out only for the afternoon we take two bottles filled with hot water, which saves much time. Poor Louise had been suflering from tooth- ache all the time. W^e got safely home at ten minutes past seven o'clock. [& ff ^ ( 103 ) Unveiling of the Prixce's Statue at Balmoral. Tuesday, Octobc7' 15, 1867. Our blessed Engagement Day ! A dear and sacred day — already twenty eight years ago. How I ever bless it ! A wet morning — most annoying and provoking ! At a quarter-past eleven in this distressing rain, which twice had given hopes of ceasing, I, with all the family and Janie Ely, drove to the spot, just above Middletoiis Lodge, where were assembled all the servants and tenants, and the detachment of the 93rd Highlanders drawn up opposite, jusi; behind the Statue. I and the chil- dren stood just in front of the StaUie, which was covered. A verse of the looth Psalm was sung, and Mr. Taylor then stepped forward and offered up a beautiful prayer (in pelting rain at that a -ff 43- ■ff •If I; e ^ •~€b ( 104 ) moment), after which the order was i^Iven to un- cover the Statue ; but (as happened at Aberdeen) the covering caught, and it was a little while before it could be loosened from the shoulder. The soldiers presented arms, and the pipes played, as we gazed on the dear noble figure of my beloved one, who used to be with us here in the prime of beauty, goodness, and strength. Then Dr. Robertson stepped forward, and made a very pretty little speech in the name of the ser- vants and tenants, thanking me for the gift of the statue. He spoke remarkably v.'ell. This was followed by the soldiers firing a fete de joie ; then all cheered, and the whole concluded by " God save the Queen " being sung extremely well. w -^ p ff r i ( 105 ) First Visit to the Gi.AssAi/r Snii:L A House-warming. 1 hiirsday, October i, 1S6S. At nearly four o'clock left with Louise and Jane Churchill for the Glassalt SJitel. It was a beautiful evening, clear and frosty. We drove by Birkhali and the Linn of Muich^ where we stopped to take tea ; we had just finished when Arthur arrived from Ballater with Grant, who had gone to meet him there. He had travelled straight from Geneva, and looked rather tired, having besides had a bad passage. After walking a little we drove on, Arthur getting into the carriage with us, and Grant going with Brown on the box. We arrived at half-past six at the Glassalt Shiel, which looked so cheerful and com- fortable, all lit up, and the rooms so cozy and nice. There is a wonderful deal of room in the compact a fB- ^f \ ■ i m a Q ( io6 ) little house. A good staircase (the only one) leads to the upper floor, where are the rooms lor Louise, Jane Churchill, her maid, and Arthur, in one passage ; out of this there is another, where are three rooms for Brown, the cook, and another servant ; in one of these Grant and Ross slept, and C. Thomson in the other. Below are my sitting-room, bedroom, and my maids' room ; and on the other side of our little hall the dining- room ; then a nice kitchen, small steward's room, store-closet, and another small room w^here two menservants slept. The small passage near my bedroom shuts off the rest, and makes it quite private and quiet. Good stables, and the keeper's cottage, where our gillies sleep, just outside at the back. We dined at about half-past eight in the small dininor-room. This over, after waitinsf for a little while in my sitting-room, Brown came to say all the servants were ready for the house-warming, and at twenty minutes to ten we went into the little dining-room, which had been cleared, and where all the servants were assembled, viz., my second dresser,* C. Wilmore, Brown, Grant, Ross * She was in my service for thirteen years, and left in i83i. f& & Hi -a r]_ & ^i & -a ( 107 ) (v/iio played), Hollis (tlie cook), Lacly Churcliill's maid, Maxted, C. and A. Thomson, Blake (the footman), the two housemaids, Kennedy, J. Stewart (the stableman), and the policeman (who only comes to do duty outside at night). We made nineteen altogether. Five animated reels were danced, in which all (but myself) joined. After the first reel " whisky-tuddy " was brought round for every one, and Brown begged I would drink to the " fire-kindling." Then Grant made a little speech, with an allusion to the wild place we were in, and concluding with a wish " that our Royal Mistress, our good Queen," should "live long." This was followed by cheers given out by Ross .i, regular Highland style, and all drank my health. The merry pretty little ball ended at a quarter-past eleven. The men, how- ever, went on singing in the stev/ard's room for Eome time, and all were very happy, but I heard nothing, as the little passage near my bedroom sluits everything off. Sad thoughts filled my heart both before dinner and when I was alone and retired to rest. I thought of the happy past and my darling husband whom I fancied I must see, and who always -c: <■ t t J: r -■"^■ — -■ ■•« - -•■>* ■- -^ -*^- _— » -^- ( >o8 ) -a wished to build here, in tlus favourite wild spot, quite in amidst the hills. At AUnagiuthasach I could not have lived acf^in now — alone. It is far better to have built a totally new house ; but then the sad thought struck me that it was the first Widow s house, not built by him or hallowed by his memory. But I am sure his blessing does rest on it, and on those who live in it. '& ff fh- ( 109 ) ** Juicing the SiiEEr," 1868. a Thursday, October 21. At a quarter to twelve I drove off with Louise and Leopold in the waggonette up to near the '' Busli' (the residence of William Brown,* the farmer) to see them "juice the sheep." This is a practice pursued all over the HigJdands before the sheep are sent down to the low country for the winter. It is done to preserve the wool. Not far from the burnside, where there are a few hillocks, was a pen in which the sheep were placed, and then, just outside it, a large sort of trough filled with liquid tobacco and soap, and into this the sheeo were dipped one after the other ; one man (James Brown, f my shepherd, the elder brother, who crime up on purpose to help) took the sheep oae * Brown's fourth brother. t Brown's eldest brother. M ^■ ^ 1;;, * ^ h! a ^ Hi ( no ) by one out of the pen and turned them on their backs ; and then WilHam and he, holding them by their legs, dipped them well in, after which they were let into another pen into which this trough opened, and here they had to remain to dry. To the left, a little lower down, was a cauldron boiling over a fire and containing the tobacco with water and soap ; this was then emptied into a tub, from which it was transferred into the trough. A very rosy-faced lassie, with a plaid over her head, was superintending this part of the work, and helped to fetch the water from the burn, while children and many collie dogs were grouped about, and several men and shepherds were helping. It was a very curious and picturesque sight. ff '7^- 'M Hi f -fb ( '•' ) A Highland "Kirstnin" (Ciikisti:nin(;), iS68. Sunday, October 24. At a quarter to four I drove, with Louise, Beatrice, and Lady Ely, to John Thomson the wood foresters house for the christening' of their child, three weeks old. Here, in their little sitting- room, in front of the window stood a table covered with a white cloth, on which was placed a basin with water, a bible, and a paper with the certifi- cate of the child's birth. We stood on one side, and John Thomson in his Highland dress next the minister, who was opposite me at the head of the table. Barbara, his wife, stood next to him, with the baby in her arms, and then the old Thomsons and their un- married daughter, the Donald Stewarts, Grants, and Victoria, Morgan and sister, and Brown. Dr. Taylor (who wore his gown) then began with an address and prayer, giving thanks *' for a livini'- mother and a living child," after which fol- ff a -a ( -12 ) lowed another prayer; he then read a few passac,^es from Scripture, after which came the usual ques- tions which he addressed to the father, and to w!>ich he bowed assent. Then the minister told him — 'Present your child for baptism." After this the father took the child and held it while the minister baptised it, sprinkling it with water, but not making the sign of the cross, saying first to those present : '* The child's name is Victoria ; " and then to the child : Victoria, I baptise thee in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, One God blessed for ever. — Amen. The Lord bless thee and keep thee ! The Lord make His face to shine upon thee and be gracious unto thee ! The Lord lift up His countenance upon thee and give thee peace ! The service was concluded with another short prayer and the usual blessing. I thought it most appropriate, touching, and impressive. I gave my present (a silver mug) to the father, kissed the little baby, and then we all drank to its health and that of its mother in whisky, which was handed round with cakes. It was all so nicely done, so simply, and yet with such dignity. ^■ -ff [S- ft ( i'3 ) A Second Christening, 1868. On Monday, November i, I drove down at a quarter to four with Louise, Beatrice, Leopold (who was on the box with Brown), and Lady Ely, to the Bush (WilHam Brown's) to witness the christening of his first child, just a week old, which was to be called Albert. The service was nearly the same, only two instead of three prayers, and the }Ounor niothcr with the child, who was only a week old, was seated by the fire, looking very nice, with the baby on her lap. The old mother, Mrs. Brown, in her white mutch, the three brothers, and a few neighbours stood round the room. I gave my present. It was a touching and impres- sive sight to see the young father holding his child with an expression of so much devotion and earnestness. On this occasion a dinner was given by the father after we left, in which Dr. Taylor took part. ^ '~-V^ « — -- "- ■ -ff I ¥ i ?t r If i ! li t £0 t& ( "4 ) Widow Grant, 1869. On Sunday, August 22, 1869, I went to see old Mrs. Grant, whom I was grieved to see sitting in her chair supported by pillows, and her poor feet raised upon cushions, very much altered in her face, and, I fear, dying of dropsy. On August 26 I again saw her, and gave her a shawl and pair of socks, and found the poor old soul in bed, looking very weak and very ill, but bowing her head and thanking me in her usual way. I took her hand and held it On the 27th she died. On the 28th I stopped at her cottage and went in with Louise and Leopold. We found all so clean and tidy, but all so silent. Mrs. Gor- don, her daughter, was there, having arrived just in time to spend the last evening and night with her ; and then she lifted the sheet, and there ■a w [fi- ■a ( 115 ) the poor old woman, whom we had known and seen from the first here these twenty-one years, lay on a bier in her shroud, but with her usual cap on, peaceful and little altered, her dark skin taking away from the usual terrible pallor of death. She had on the socks I gave her the day before yesterday. She was in her eighty-ninth year. ta 1 1 -w i k a- a >i-h»« OMM*- ( "6 ) Visit to Invertrossaciis, 1869. Wednesday, September i, 1869. We got up at half-past seven, breakfasted at eight, and at half-past eight left Balmoral with Louise, Beatrice, and Jane Chui chill (Brown as always, unless I mention to the contrary, on the box), for Ballater. A high and rather cold wind, but very bright sun, dreadfully dusty. Colonel Ponsonby met us at the railway station. Emilie Dittwe'ler and Annie Macdonald, Ocklee (for the twogiris), Jane Churchill's maid, Charlie Thomson, and the footman Cannon, went with us ; Blake, Spong with the luggage, A. Thomson, with Sharp (my faithful collie dog), and Annie Gordon (house- maid), Kennedy, Arthur Grant, and Hiley (the groom) with the ponies, all went yesterday, and three x:ooks came from London. We had a saloon carriage, but not my own. It grew hot in the a ^ li .r -a ca ( "7 ) railway train. We stopped at Aberdeen and the Bridge of Dun, n-here Jane Churchill got into our carriag(i, and had luncheon with us ; but we could have \\c one to hc'p to pack and unpack it, which is now so comfortaljly arranged in my own rail- way carriage where there is a communication with the attendants. Stopping a moment at Citpar- Angus, we passed through Perlh, and had another short halt at DurJdane, w'hcre the people crowded very much. Here we got a view of the old Cathedral, and turned off to Callander, which we reached at a quarter past three. There was a very well- b. haved crowd at the quiet station. Mr. and Lady Emily Macnaghten,* to whose house (which they had most kindly lent us) we were going, and Sir Malcolm and Lady Helen MacGregor (he is Miss MacGregor's nephew, she Lady Emily Mac- naghten's niece), received us there. Their little girl gave me a nosegay. We at once got into our celebrated sociable, which has been to the top of the Fuica in Switzerland, etc., and had been sent on before. Colonel Ponsonby and Brown going on the box. We drove off at once with post-Iione.: * She dicl in i"; ;. "-ff I . vj- ■*M i' '«."■ I. !l J) : if If. i-t i c& (tl ( "8 ) through the small town of Callander, which con- sists of one loni^ street with very few shops, and few good houses, but many poor ones. Poor Kanne* (who was to have managed everjthing, but had fallen ill) was still laid up there. We drove on, and, after about three-quarters of a mile's drive, came to Loch Vcnnacliar, a fine lake about four mile s loner, with Ben Venue and other \\\^A\ and beautiful mountains rising behind and around it. The road is thickly wooded with oak, birch, beech, mountain ash, etc. The house stands ex- treiiiely well on a high eminence, overlooking the loch and surrounded by trees, and you drive up through evergreens and trees of all kinds. Half an hour brought us to the door of the house, Invei'- ij'ossac/is, which is small and comfortable. At the entrance is a nice little hall in which there is a small billiard table ; to the left, beycnd that, a very nice well- sized dining-room with one large window. To the rVAxX of the hall is the drawincf- room, very much like the one at Invcrniark (Lord Dalhousie's) ; altogether the house is in that style, * My Director of Continental journeys, who had been sent to look at the house and to make airanjemcnts for my reception. ■a ff ■a [& a & ( <'9 ) but larger. The staircase is almost opposite the hall-door, and there is a narrow passage which goes on to the left and right, along which are Louise's, Baby's (Beatrice's), my sitting-room (a snug little room), and my bedroom (very good size) ; and out of that, two little rooms which I use as dressing- and bath-rooms, and Emilie Dittweiler's. Further on, round a corner as it were, beyond Louise's, are Lady Churchill's, her maid's, and Colonel Ponsoiiby's rooms, all very fair-sized and comfortable. Close to my dressing- rooms is a staircase which goes upstairs to where Brown and our other people live. The rooms are very comfortably and simply furnished, and they Iiave put down new car[)ets everywhere. In the absence of poor Kanne, whom we are so sorry for, Jungbluth, the cook, acts as steward, and showed us over the rooms. We took tea and rested a little, and at twenty minutes to six drove out with the two girls (sweet Beatrice very happy and very good, the first time she had been without a governess) and Lady Churchill. We drove along the loch, which has always to be done, as there is no road on the Inver- trossaclis side further than Invciirossachs itself, and [&^ ^ r f ii :l C& 43- ^5i ( I20 ) crossed over the bridge at CoHantoglcford ccle bratcd in the '' Lady of the Lake," then to the rii^^ht down a steep hill and over the bridge by Kilniahog, where there are a few cottages and a turnpike, on through the Pass of Lcny, which is now (like every other burn and river) nearly dry, overhung by beautiful trees with very grand hills, reminding me much of Switzerland from their greenness, the rugged rocks, and the great amount of wood which grows at their base and a good way up. It reminded Louise and me very much of Pihitics \\\\h its meadows and fine trees on the way to Flergessvyl. We went as far as the beginning of Loch Lubnaig, a very fine wild, grand-looking loch ; turning there and going back the same way. The view of Loch Vennachar^ with the beautiful deep blue of Ben Vemie and the other hills, was lovely. We came in at half-past seven. Darling P^eatrice took her supper on coming in, but she came and sat with us while we were at dinner for a short while. Only four at dinner. We w^ent out foi a moment afterwards. Very mild and starlight. Louise went to bed. Jane read a little to me in the drawing-room, but I went upstairs soon, as I was tired. fi" r ■^ < 121 Thursday, September 2. A very fine, brlt^lit, warm morning. We de- cided to go on an expedition, but not to Loc/i Lomoici. as we should have to start so carl)-. Hr(!akfasted in the drawinof room with Louise and r)cairice. Then writing, etc. At twenty minutes to twelve I started in the sociable with Louise, I^eatrice, Jane Chuichill, and Colonel Ponsonby and Brown on the box, and drove (excellent post-horses, always only a pair) to Callander, but turned to the right short of it, and went on some liitle way. On coming to the top of a hill we saw Ben Ledi, a splendid hill ; to the north Ben Voir lie h, and to the east the heights of Uain Var, a pink heathery ridge of no great elevation ; and in the distance, rising up from the horizon, Dnn Myaf, and the Wallaee Monnnient on the Abbey Craig, near Stirling. We went across a moor, and then soon passed LoeJi Rns/cie, cjuite a small lake, llie country about here is rather lowland, but as we proceeded it was extremely pretty, with very fine trees and cornfields, and harvesting going on ; and soon after, descending a hill, we came upon .* .111 ^:i . i \ IM i ! a -a ( 122 ) tlie Locli oi'* Mmtcith'' (the only loch in Scotland which is ever called lake). It reminds one v ry much of Loch Kinnord near Ballatcr, and very li)w blue and pink hills rise in the distance. There are two or three Islands in it ; in the lari^e one, Inclima/ionie, you perceive anioni^st the thick woods the ruins of the ancient priory. Queen Alary lived there once, and there are monuments of t e Menteiths to be seen on it. To the right we passed the ruin of Rcdnock Castle, and to the left the gates of the Park of Rcdiiock, with very fine large trees, where Mr. Graham, the proprietor, was standing. We went on and passed the Clachan of Abcrfoyle (renowned in Sir Walter Scott's^ ** Rob Roy"), and here the snlendid scenery be- " gins — high, rugged, and green hills (reminding me again of Piiatus), very fine large trees and beautiful pink heather, interspersed with bracken, rocks, and underwood, in the most lovely pro- fusion, and lien Lomond towering up before us with its noble range. We went on perhaps a quarter of a mile, and, it being then two o'clock, we got out and lunched on the grass under an oak at the foot of Craig More. It was very hot, the sun stinn;innr, but there were manv lis^ht white 1 ! ^ e> r -fb ( 123 ) clouds in the blue sky, which gave the most beautiful efrects of lit'lit and shade on this mar- vellous coJo iring. After luncheon and walking about a little, not finding any good view to sketch, we got into the carriage (our horses had been changed), but had not gone above a few yards when we came upon Loch Ard, a;.d a lovelier [)icture could not be seen. Ben Lovumd, blue and yellow, rose above ihe lower hills, which were pink and purple with heather, and an li^thmus of green trees in front dividing: it from the rest of the loch. We got out and sketched. Only here and there, ■4* far between, were some poor little cottages with picturesque barefooted lasses and children to be seen. All speak Gaelic here. Louise and I sat sketching for half an hour, Beatrice running about merrily with Jane Churchill while we drew. We then drove on, and certainly one of the most lovely drives I can remember, along Lock Ani, a fine long loch, with trees of all kinds overhanging the road, heather making all pink ; bracken, rocks, high hills of such a fine shape, and trees growing up them as in Switzerland; the road rough and bad, with very steep bits of hill (but the post-horses went remark- ably well) overhanging the loch, which reminded ■a ^ cfJ -'-Qi ( '-M ) mc very nuich of the drive alons^ tlie Lake Ziii' in Sxvilzcrland. Altocrethcr, the whole drive aloni.' Loch Avd, then by the very small Loch Dow and th.e fine Loch Choii, which is very long, was lovely. The heather in full bloom, and of t!ie richest kind, some almost of a crimson colour, and arrowing in rich tufts along the road. One can see, by the mounds or heaps of stone, all along Loch Chon, where the Gias^vw waterworks are carried, but they have not disfigured the landscape. Emerging from this road we came upon the Loch Lomond Road^ having a fine view of Loch ArhLt, on the banks of which Helen MacGrcgor is said to have been born. The scene of our drive to-day is all described in " Rob Roy." Loch Arklet lies like Loch Callater, only that the hills are higher and more pointed. Leaving this litde loch to our left, in a few minutes we came upon Loch I\atrine, which was seen in its greatest beauty in the fine evening light. Most lovely! We stopped at Stronachlachar, a small inn where people stay for a night sometimes, and where they embark coming from Loch Lomond and vice versa. As the small steamer had not )et arrived, we had to wait for about a quarter of an hour. But there ^ . *c to fe ( >25 ) was no crowd, no trouMe or annoyance, and during the whole of our drive nothin^r could be quieter or more agreeable. Hardly a creature did we meet, and we passed merely a very few pretty gentlemen's places, or very poor cottages with simple women and barefooted long-haired lassies and children,- quiet and unassuming old men and labourers. This solitude, the romance and wild loveliness of everything here, the absence of hotels and beggars, the independent simple people, who all speak Gaelic here, all make beloved Scotland the proudest, finest country in the world. Then there is that beautiful heather, which you do not see elsewhere. I prefer it greatly to Sivitzerland, magnificent and glorious as the scenery of that country is. It was about ten minutes past five when we went on board the very clean little steamer " Rob Roy " — the very same we had been on under such different circumstances in 1859 on the 14th of October, in dreadful weather, th.ick mist and heavy rain, when my beloved Husband and I opened the Glasgow Walci'worh. We saw the spot and the cottajje where we lunched. We took a turn and steamed a little way up ft ■ff i ti :| i -^ m B . fi J i4 I ■ 1 1- - - — Mil ■ I -- -^- - ,-■-.. I ( 126 ) the bay calle 1 Gkn Gyle, where there is a splen- did glen beautifully wooded, which is the country of the MacGregors, and where there is a house which belonged to MacGregor of GUn Gyle, which, with the property, has been bought by a rich Glasgow innkeeper of the same clan. We turned and went on, and nothing could be more beautiful than the loch, wooded all along t'le banks. The rugged Den Ventte, so famed in the *' Lady of the Lake " (which we had with us as well as several guide-books, of which we find Black's far the best), rises majestically on the southern side of the lake, and looking back you see the Alps of Arrochar, which well deserve the name, for they are quite pointed and most beautiful ; their names are Den Vean, Ben Voirlich, Ben Eim, and Den Crash. Next came the \^€i\- kno'wn '* Silver Strand'' ''Helens A/^," which is most lovely, and the narrow creek so beautifully wooded below the splendid high hills, and the little wooden landing-place which I remembered so well ; and very melancholy and yet sweet were my feelings when I landed and found on the path some of the same white pebbles which my dearest Albert picked up and had made into a bracelet ft ^ # I a B- _l_ r^ " - - - .*» >■«■■■ .^Jii ( 127 ) ■ '■ M a^ ■^"-fi] for me. I picked up and carried off a handful myself. We had taken our tea on board on deck. We now entered two hired carriages, the girls and I in the first, with Brown on the box, and Jane Churchill and Colonel Ponsonby in the second. The evening was lovely, and the lij^hts and pink and golden sky as we drove through the beautiful Trossachs were glorious indeed — So wondrous wild, the whole niiglit seem The scenery of a fairy dream — and along Lmli Achray — the setting sun behind Ben Vemic, v/hich rose above most gloriously, so beautifully described by Sir W. Scott : The western waves of ebl'ing day Rolled o'er the glen the level way. Each purple peak, each flinty spire Was bathed in Hood ; of living fire. We passed the fine Trossachs Inn where Louise had stopped with Alice and Louis in 1865, and a lovely little church in a most picturesque position, and lastly the Brig of Turk. It is a long way round Loch Vennachar to Invcrtrossachs : you see the house for three-quarters of an hour before you W ^ M- • ' ' I a { '28 ) can get to it. Home at eight. The drive back was lovely, for long after the sun had set the sky re- mained beautifully pink behind the dark blue hills. A most successful day. Dinner as yesterday. I felt very tired. Friday, September 3. A very dull, dark thick morning, and the hills beyond Callaneler hardly visible. Still, no rain. Went up to my room and wrote a little, and at twelve took a walk in a very pretty wood quite close below the house, from several points of which there are beautiful views, but the atmosphere was too thick to see them to-day. . . . We lunched all together. ... At half-past three we started again (just as yesterday), and drove up the noble Pass of Leuy, past Kiltnahog, where a little boy tried to give me a nosegay which was fixed to a pole, and in trying to catch it Colonel Ponsonby let it fall. The little boy screamed " Stop stop ! " and ran in such an agony of disappoint- ment that I stopped the carriage, and took it from him to his mother's great delight. On our way we saw on a hill among woods Leny ^ ft -ff [Q- *i ^ ( 129 ) House (belonging to Mr. Buchanan Hamilton), where Sir W. Scott lived when he wrote " Rob Roy." We went along that truly beautiful Loch Liibnaig, driving along its windings like the Axenstrasse on the Lake of Liicernc, the high, jagged, and green hills rising precipitously from it. It is four miles long, and very romantic. There is a railway unfinished, only a single line, on the western side, and as it ran along the loch it again reminded me of the Axenstrasse at the points where it goes low near the water. The road leads under beautiful sycamore trees. We passed on the right a farmhouse called Ardhtdlary, where formerly the Abyssinian traveller Bruce used to live, and next entered Strathyre, a fine broad open strath, wooded and with cornfields, the heather on the hills quite pink. The village of Slrathyre is composed of a row of a few peasants' houses, with very poor people, and a nice well-built little inn. A little way on again you come to a picturesque little inn called the Khigs House, covered with pretty creepers and convolvulus, and here you turn short to the left and go up Balqiihidder^ i-^j 43- -ff I [& -"1 ( I w ) another most lovely glen, with a beautiful view of Lcr/i Voil with its beautiful sweeping green hills, the Braes of Balquhiddcr, the strath itself very rich with its fine trees and cornfields, the small river Balvaig running through it. We drove about two miles, passing some pretty cottages covered with creepers like the inn I mentioned, and stopped outside a neat-looking little village, the Kirklon of Balquhidder (twelve miles from Callander), composed of only a few cottages. We got out and walked up a steep knoll overhanging the road, on which, under a splendid plane tree (we passed some most beau- tiful limes just before), is the old kirk-yard with the ruins of the old church. We went at once to look at the tomb of Rob Roy — a flat stone on which is carved a figure in a kilt, and next to it a stone where his wife is buried, and on which a sword is rudely carved.* His son's tomb is next to his, but looks far more modern. We went on to look at a very curious old font, and then at two or three other tombntones. On one of these were some verses, wliich Mr. Cameron, the school- * These stones are supposed to be very ancient, and carved centuries before they were adapted to their present use. [1-^ cfi- ■a ( i3> ) master, an intelligent youni^ man, recited, and afterwards wrote out for nie.* We afterwards went into the very pretty new church, which is close to the old ruin. Nothing can surpass the beauty of the position of this spot, for it overlooks Loch Voil and a glen, or rather mere ravine or corry, with a hill rising behind it. We walked down again and re-entered our car- riage, driving back the same way, and passing about half a mile from the Kirktou, on our road back, the present burial-place of the MacGregors (whose country this is, or, alas ! rather was), which ♦ The words of the inscription are '.-^ ISABEL CAMBEIX, SrOUSE TO MR. RODERT KIRK, MINISTER, DIED 25 DECEMIiER, 16S0. SHE HAD TWO SONS, COLIN AND WILLIAM, HER AGE 25. Stones weep iho' eyes were dry ; Choicest do we IS soonest die : Their sun oft sets at noon, Whose fruit is ripe in June. Then tears of joy be thine, Since earth must soon resign To God what is divine. ..m \m Nasci est ivgrotare, vivere est sipo niori, ct m ;ri e.4 viverc. Love and Live. I ^11 K a -ff ti m\ I !' i ■ : a -^.rr, ( • 32 ) is a cliapcl standing in a wood, tlie wliolc cnclop-cd by a wall and iron gateway. We drove past the k'ings House a very short way, and then got out, scrambled up the hillside, sat down on a bank overhanging a burn, kindled a fire, and had our t(^a. This was on Lord Brcadalbane's property. XVe got hoine from this very interesting and beautiful drive by a quarter-past eight. The day had not been bright — dark and dull, but quite clear enough to see everything in this truly beautiful country. Dinner as before. We always sit in the draw- iiig-room, and Jane read out the newspaper to us. Sattirday, September 4. Up by half-past seven, and breakfasting at a quarter to eight. Got on my pony Sultan * at nine, the others walking, and went through the wood to the loch's edge, where we three orot into a small boat and were rowed across to the other side by the keeper and underkeeper. Brown sitting in the bow, Colonel Ponsonby and Jane * 1 rode him up to the top of the Righi (near Lucerne)^ 5,000 feet high, in 1S68. 4 i- ■-ff a- -Qi ( T 1 -> ) Cluirclilll goincf across in anotlicr very small boat rowed by one man. Here we got into our car- riage as before. Dear Beatrice enjoys it all very much, and is so good and cheerful. We drove on through the beautiful Trossar/is to Loch Katrine. It was a very dark thick morning ; no distance to be seen at all, and Ben Venue very im^^crfecl^y. We embarked by ten o'clock on board the steamer " Rob Roy," and steamed off for Stronachlachar. No distant view was visible, and the colour of the sky was really that of a thick November fog. However, by the time we reached Strouachiachar, it was much lighter to the left, towards where we were going. Here we got into two hired carriages again. Jane and Colonel Ponsonby preceding us this time. We drove along Loch Arklet, a lovely drive with pink heathered hills to the right, and gradually the mist cleared off, and allowed us to see ru the number of twenty-four. Some of them are large ; on Lnchlonaig Lsland the yews a^'e said to have been planted by Robert Bruce to encourage the people in the use of archery. Another, Lich Cai iliac k, is the ancient burial-place of the Mac Gregors. On the mainland we passed Coriiick Llill, and could just see Buchanan Ilonse, the Duke of Montrose's, and to the right the island of Inch Mnrrin, on which the Duke has his deer preserve. The sun had com^ out soon after we went on board, and it was blowing quite fresh as ^' xi If!; i a- 1 I ( '3'-> ) we went acfainst the wind. At two o'clock wc stopped off Fori )icl Ian for luncheon, \v'. :h wc had brouLjht with us and took belcw ii; ihe haiul- some ku'ge cabin, where fifty or sixty p< ")p]e, if not more, could easily dine. Co'one! F'unson] y w- D ■ mchcfl with us This over, we went to \)v: end of the lake to Ballorh, and here turniul. it I' -^ame very warm. To the left we passed some very pretty villas (castles they resembled) and places, amonc^st others Cavicroii (Mr. Smol- lett's), Arden (Sir J. Lumsden's, Lord Provost of Glasgow), Ross-DIiu (Sir J. Cokjuhoun's), the road to Glen Fritin, the islands of Inc.t, Coniia- chan, Inch Tavanach, the point of Stab Gobhlach, Lnss, a very prettily situated village, the mountain of Ben Dnb/i, and the ferry of Invernglas, oppo^ site Rozvardennan, Then Tarbet, a small town, where dearest Albert landed in 1847, and here beo:an the hig^hest and finest mountains, with splendid passes, richly wooded, and the highest mountains rising behind. A glen leads across from Tarbet to Arrochar on Loch Lonc", and here you see that most singularly shaped hill called the Cobbler, and a little further on the splendid Alps of Arrochar. All this and the way cg- ^ a -Q ff { ^37 ) in wliich the liills run into the lakr '-cmindcd me so much of the Nascn on the Lak*^ v' Lucerne. The head of the lake with the 'ery fine glen (G/cn Fa I loch), along- which you can drive to Oban, is magnificmt. We (Louise and I) sketched as best we could, but it is mo t difficult to do so when the steamer keeps moving on ; and we were afterwards much vexed we had not asked tb.em to o^o more slowly o we had to w^ait acrain for the " Rob Roy " stu-^mci at Stronachlachar, P^'om the head o{ L^ci' .oniond {\\\\q.\'q, is the Hotel of laverarnaii) \\ > turned ; we were shown a hole in the rock, on tue east side, which they called Rob Roys Cave, and landed at Invcrsnaid. The people (quite a small crowd) threw bunches of heather as we passed. Heather is everywhere the decoration, and there is indeed no lovelier, prettier ornament. It was in such full bloom. The mountains here are peculiarly fine from the sharp serrated out- line and wonderful clothinij of (jrass and trees. It was a very bright w^arm evening, and the drive back, which we had to take slcwly, not to arrive too soon, was extremely pretty. At Stronoch- Ljchar, both on embarking and disembarking, there were a few people collected. On board we ^a ^ Rf •: 11 Q- - — ..fi- t& ( ) had a.c^ain our U\\, :vm\ Mr. 1)1, lir, tlu; vcM'y ol)liL;- in]L!f j^^cntlcinanlikc ho.^t of the VrossacAs Inn (and possessor ol the Loch Katrine steamer), vlio was in attenckince each time, gave us some clotted cream. It was a splendid sail over this most lovely loch, and delii^dufiil drive back by the Trossachs. We L-ot into the br)at a^ain where we left it thi:; morning", and rowc:d across ; but this time it was most unpleasant, for it blew and was very rough, and the little boat rolled and danced. The second smaller one with the two others shipped water. Rode back and got up to the house by half-past seven. This was the only conlrctcnips to our most successful, enjoyable day. How dearest Albert would have enjoyed it! Dinner just as before, Jane reading the news- papers. This day year we weiU to th.e B) it I III: ass. Stinday, Scptciubcr 5. A dull muggy morning. Decided not to go to kirk, as it would have been very public. So at eleven rode (on Sultan) with dear Beatrice (on her little Beatrice) for an hour, first up at the back ff lTH ■— ' -B I -ff ( 109 ) of the farm, and then a Utile way on tlu^ beautiful pink hcatlu-ry aiul bracken liilks just bi-liind the house, and s:i\v Loch Druukic ahnost th'y from the droLiL;ht, and looked over to the Jhiif^- of Turk, then back b)- the stables to the house. Read the collect, epistle, and gospel, and the second lesson fur the da)', with the two i;irls, Beatrice read in''" the last-named. While we were at luncheon it rained, but it soon ceased, and the afternoon became quite fine and was very warm. At half-past five walked out with Louise, Beatrice, and Jane Churchill, stoppini^at the lodL,^e where Mclsaacs, the keeper, and his wife live Walked some way on, and then drove with Beatrice rovind a short way on the J rus- sac /is Roaci, comin"^ home at half- past seven. 1\ foil day, Se/^fcfii/cj' 6. Misty early, then beautiful and clear and very hot. Got up with a bad headache. At five minutes to eleven rode off with Beatrice, good Sharp goinij^ with us and havin.L'- occasional " collie-shanLnes " * * A Scotch word for quarrels or "rows," but taken from fights between " coUies." t -ff I ^i .1 i tl . # -Di ( MO ) with collies when wc came near cottag^es (A. Tlionison and Kennedy followinij). We rode out the same way we came hack yesterday, and then up the same hill overlooking Loch Driinkie — which really is nearly dry — and on down the other side of the hill, as fast as we could go along a rough but very pretty road, which brought us, over perfumed pink heather interspersed with bracken, to a spot where you get a lovely glimpse of LocJi Ac/way and Ben Venue. We then continued along a wood past a few miserable cottages, but as private as if I were riding at BalDwral, out into the high road just at the Brii^ of Tin'k\ and stopped at what is called '' Fergussoii s Inn,'' but is in fact the very poorest sort of High- land cottage. Here lives Mrs. Fergusson, an immensely fat woman and a well-known character, who is quite rich and well dressed, but will not leave the place where she has lived all her life selling whisky. She was brought out and seemed delighted to see me, shaking hands with me and patting me. She walks with a crutch, and had to sit down. We only stopped a very few minutes, and then went home as fast as we came, and got back by one. Cut Brovv-n and the other two t fl ^ € -n ( K" ) men were as hot as the day we went up iIk^ Rii^/n\ and it was indeed very hot. Our ride nuiu have been eight miles altogether. My head still aching. At three, after luncheon, we started just as yesterday, and drove the same way as last Friday up the Pass of Lcny by Loch Lubnai^^, Strat'tyre and the King's House : here, inst(\'\d of turning to the loft to BalqiihiddeVy we went straight on for four miles, till ue came to Lech Earn Head. It was a beautiful and very hot afternoon. We stopped at the inn, which is quite a small place commanding a beautiful view of Loch Barn, which was splendidly lit up, the loch deep blue and the hills all lilac and violet. Sir Malcolm * and Lady Helen MacGregor with their two little children received us at the door and took us upstairs. They have got a very pretty little drawing-room (looking on to the loch), which they have arranged nicely and comfortably. The two little girls are dear little things, Malvina four and Margaret two years old. Sir Malcolm wore the kilt. He is a captain in the Navy, and showed us some curi- osities brought home from New Zealand, also a bottle which is said to have belonged to Rob * He died in 1879. ' .u [& # cS-- — ^ ffi- ( >42 ) Roy, arifl was given to Lady Helen by an old man in the parish, and a silver quaich out of which Prince Charles Kdward had drunk, and which had belonged to Sir Malcolm's great-great-grand- father. Lady Helen is the late Lord Antrim's only child. Both were most kind and gave us some tea, and at half-past five we left on our re- turn. There w^j a small friendly crowd collected at the door, who cheered both when we arrived and when we left. We changed horses here, or at least very near, in 1842 on our way back from Taymoiilh. They said I mentioned the circum- stance in my book.* We drove through the grounds of Edinchipy which belongs to Sir Mal- colm IMacGregor (but was then let), on the way home, and came back the same road, reaching home by half-past seven. My headache, which had been very bad all day, got much better just before we got home. Tuesday^ September 7. Received a letter from Colonel Elphinstone, dated 22nd from Halifax, with excellent accounts • Our Life in the Ilig/ilcvids, p. 31, -ff rt ^0 ■ff tS- tS- ( 143 ) of dear Artliur. The passage had been a very good one; he had mixed with everyone on board, and l;een a general favourite — three hundred emigrants on board. Walked, and rode a little, while the others walked. Tired and feeling ill. It turned wet and continued so all the evening. We, however, determined to go to Loch Katrine, havincf ordered the steamer, and boats to row to the Silver Strand. So off I went with the ijirls and Lady Churchill just as on the other days, but when we got there it was too wet to do anything ; so we only w^ent on board the steamer, took our tea in the cabin below, a:id then drove back again by half-past seven. Wcdru'^uiay, September 8. A very bad night from a violent attack of neuralgia in my leg. I only got up after nine, and could hardly walk or stand, but was otherwise not ill. I took a little, but very little, breakfast, alone. I remained at home reading, writing, and resting on the sofa or in an arm-chair. I came down to luncheon, Brown helping me down and up, but took it alone with the cliildren in ihe drawing-room. Rested afterwards, and at twenty minutes to four t:] ^ I! * 'A V, "■ i rH-^ - I , ( '44 ) took a quiet but enjoyable drive with Jane Churchill. It was not very bright, nor the distance very clear, but there were occasional gleams of bright sunshine which lit up the fine scenery. We drove to Loc/i Menteitli, just the same way as on Thursday, and were surprised to find how short the distance was. After passing the gate of Rednock Castle we turned to the left and drove a short way close along the lochsidc past the kirk and small village (composec^ of only two or three houses) of Port Mcntcilh, getting a good view of IncJimaJioine on the wa\'. We stopped to take our tea (which had been made before we went out, but was quite hot still) outside Rednock grounds, and then drove back again, but took another turn through Callander, and then along a road (above which a number of pretty villas are built, and where you have a very pretty view) which comes out at Kiluiahog Turnpike. Then home by a quarter past seven. Found Sir William Jenner, whom we had sent for, arrived. I dined below (hobbling along a little better and downstairs without help) in the drawing-room with Louise and Jane Churchill. t& •-ff ( 145 ) ^ •-[? ^ TImrsday, September 9. I had a really very fair night, and on inciting up found I could walk much better, for which I was most thankful. I went down to breakfast as usual. Received again letters from dear Arthur and Colonel Elphinstone with excellent and favourable accounts of the good his presence had already done. At half-past eleven drove with Louise and Beatrice up the Pass of Leny as far as the commencement of LocJi Lttb/iaio; in- tendinp- to sketch, but it was too late. W^e niet fu'st two large coaches covered with peojjle on the narrowest part of the bridge going to Kiima- Jivg\ and then endless drov^es of wild-looking, and for the most part extremely small, shaggy High- land cattle with their drovers and d-jgs — most wild and picturesque — going to Falkirk Tryst. They stop for nights on the road — we saw some droves grazing on the lower parts of the hills on our way to LoeJi Earn Head—7\K\(\ the drovers get shelter with friends in the cotlai^es and villages ab(Uit. Home at half-past one. Planted two (very small) trees in front of the house, as did Louise and Beatrice also. Luncheon as yesterday, only with ff U! 1 I I IP 1 I a- ft i I ( 146 ) the children. My leg very stiff, so that, with great regret, I had to give up going to Loch Kah'i?ie for the last time, which I had so much wished. However, I did drive with Beatrice as far as the Trossachs Inn and back, and got a glimpse of the beautiful Trossacha and Loch Achray, with Den Venue rising gloriously above it. I even made a slight outline of it, and returned, quite pleased at Jiis, by half-past seven, stopping to make and take our tea not far from home, I remaining in the carriage. Felt better altogether, and was able to come to the usual dinner, to which also Sir W. Jenner came. Dear Beatrice sat with us during part of the dinner, as she had done almost every night. Brown (the only upper servant in attendance, as I brought no page), who waited at all my meals, and did all the outdoors attendance on me besides, with the greatest handiness, cheer- fulness, and alacrity, and the three very good footmen, Blake, Cannon, and Charlie Thomson (one of seven brothers, two of whom are also in my service, and one a gillie at Balmoral), did all the waiting at dinner and luncheon. Good Sharp was always in the dining-room, but remained quietly lying down. \ni I # f :]■ -a. ( '47 ) Friday^ Scptcnibcr lo. Raining early, wliich made me feel I had done right in giving up going by the Spitaly as I had intended up to yesterday afternoon. Felt, how- ever, better, and could walk with much greater ease. At half-past eleven we left Livertrossachs, the recullection of the ten days at which — quiet and cozy — and of the beautiful country and scenery I saw in the neighbourhood, thoucrh the last two days were spoilt by stupid indisposition, will ever be a vcr\' pleasant one. The two girls and I drove in a Callander carriage, with Brown on tl;c box. perched up alarmingly high, Jnne Churcliill and the two gentlemen having prec^:ded us to the station at Callander, All our luggage, ponies and all, went wit^ our train. We stopped outside Perth for lunch( i for a few mir: iLes — and Jane Churchill came ii again at Aberdeen for our tea — to enable Br< \ n to come and help us. When we reached Hater, where we got into two carriages, it bigan to rain. Reached Bui noral at half-past six. tg-- L 3 -ff S' ,. m Mil c& ^ ( hs ) Sheep Ci.irriNC, 1870. /?.//> Dwnx I Moiuiawjnne 13, 1870. Drove off at half-past eleven on past J. Thom- son s ho use. H ere, in the near •est adj oinino- field, close to the wall, all the sheep (mine) were in a Bi pen, and james Drown, tiie snepncrd, ana Mor- rison, my grieve at Inuergcldcr, assisted by others (one, a brother of the Morgans), took them out one by one, tied their legs together, and then placed them on the laps of the women who were seated on the ground, and who clipped them one after the other, wonderfully well, with huge scissors or clippers. Four were seated in a sort of half-circle, of whom three were Mrs. Durran, Mrs. Leys (both these did their work admirably), and Mrs. Morri- son, who seemed rather new at it, and had some difficulty with these great heavy sheep, which kid; ^ ff fci \ cB- ( 149 ) a ^oo(.\ (l(*al. The clippers must [.ikc thcin between our other their kn'H.'s, ant! it is very liard work. 1' women were si'.tinc;' ch)sc under the wall, also clippingr. Then the sheep were all marked ; and some, before bvini^ clipped, had to have their liorns sawn to prevent them growini^ into their heads. It was a very picturesque si*;"ht, and quite curious to see tlie splendid thick wool peel oii like a re^^ular coat. 3 LlJ W i '^ ff ■i"i I ■: I-' M (fl ( '50 ) Bktkotjiai. Of" Princkss Louisk to TiiK Marquis oi" l-u;;Nh, OcTouKK 3, 1S70. Bahiwral, October 3, 1870. This was an eventful clay ! Our dear Louise was enijaoed to Lord Lome. The event to(jk place durint^^ a walk from the Glassalt Sliicl to the Dim Loch. She had orone there with Janie Ely, tlie Lord Cliancellor (Lord Matheilex), and Lome. I had driven with Beatrice and the Hon. Mrs. Ponsonby X.Q PainLanick Wells, two miles from Ba/laier, on the south side of the Dee. whtM'e I had been many years ago. Unfor- tunately almost all the trees which covered the hills have been cut down. We got out and tasted the water, which is strongly impregnated with iron, and looked at the bath and at the humble but very clean accommo- ■^ 13- ^ ^ s c& ( «5i ) elation in the curious little old inn, which used to be very much frequented. Drown formerly stayed there for a year as servant, and then quantities of horses and goats were there. The same perfectly cloudless sky as on the two precedini^r days. We got home by seven. Louise, who returned some time after we did, told me that Lome had spoken of his devotion to her, and proposed to her, and that she had accepted him, knowing that I would approve. Though I was not unprepared for this result.. I felt painfully the thought of losing her. But I naturally gave my consent, and could only pray that she might be happy. ft !? i ^ ^ Ul- . ih I> & ( '52 ) ^ Communion Sunday at Crathii-:, 187 i. Baluioral, Sunday, NovcDibcr 13, 1871. A very bright niorning with deep snow. At twelve o'clock I went to the kirk with my two ladles (the Duchess of Roxburghe and Lady Ely), Lord Bridport being" also In attendance. At the end of the sermon began the service of the Com- munion, which is most touching and beautiful, and impressed and moved me more than I can express. I shall never forget it. The appearance of the kirk was very striking, with the tables in the cross seats, on eitlier side facing the pulpit, covered with a white cloth. Neither Brown, though he came with us, nor any of our Scotch servants sat behind us, as usual, but all below, as every one does who intends taking the sacrament at the " first table," A table, Cy.-. — EP i Kt ■f 3^ ■-il- f& ( '53 ) also covered w'ah a white clotli, was placed in front of the middle pew, directly facin^i;' the pulpit. The service was the same as that on ortlinary Sundays until after the sermon, exceptin_L^- that every psalni and pra)'er had reference to the Lord's Supi)er, and the sermon was on \\\q. perfect obedience of the Son (Hebrews ii. lo). The pra}'er after the sermcn was very short, after whicli Dr. Ta)lor delivered an address from the pulpit, in which he very beautifull)- in\ited all true penitents to receive the conimunit.n, tlie hardened sinner alone to abstain. It was donc! in a very kind and encouratj^inc,'' tone. Dr. Ta\lor adopted part of one of the EnL,dish i)ra)-ers, only shortened and simi)lified. . , . After this address — " the Fencini^ of the Tabic s," as it is called — the minister came down to the small table in front of the [)ulpit, where he stood with the assistant minister, and the elder son either side, and while the 35th Paraphrase was being sung the elders brought in the Elements, and placed tiiem on the table, viz. the bread cut into small pieces, and two laree ph ipi four large silver cups. The minister then read the -^ \ 'a t \l \ ,*.^\^. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 7 // A c/. & %' 5fn V] <^. 7 'cM c^; 7 >^ 1.0 I.I 1.25 [SIM IIM •^ i^ III 2.2 t IZ 12.0 Photographic Sciences Corporation 1= U 11.6 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 n^wrr: r ( '54 ) -^ words of the institution of the Lord's Supper, from I Corinthians xi. 23, and this was followed by a short but very impressive prayer of conse- cration. This done, he handed the bread first, and then tlie wine, right and left to the elders, Francis Leys (Brown's uncle), Symon "the merchant," Hunter, and Dr. Robertson, to dispense; himself givinor both to one or two people nearest to him, who were in the middle pew, where the Thomsons all sit generally, and in which, on this occasion, were old Donald Stewart and his wife (eighty-six and eighty-one, looking so nice and venerable), the young Donald Stewarts, the Thomsons, old Mr. and Mrs. Brown (he eighty-one and very much bent, and she seventy-one). Old John Brown and old Donald Stewart wore large plaids ; old Smith of Kintore was likewise in this pew. The bread was then reverently eaten, and the wine drunk, sitting, each person passing it on one to the other ; the cup being replaced by each on the table before them after they had partaken of the wine, and then the elder carried it on to the next pews, in which there were tables, until all those in that portion of the church prepared for 43— ■E^ ^ cS- nii ( >55 ) the Lord's Supper, had communicated. After which the elders replaced the Elements on the table before the minister, who delivered a short address of thankfulness and exhortation. He then o^ave out the 103rd Psalm, which was sung while the communicants were leaving the tables, to be occupied in turn by others We left after this. It would indeed be impos- sible to say how deeply we were impressed by the grand simplicity of the service. It was all so truly earnest, and no description can do justice to the perfect devotion of the whole assemblage It was most touching, and I longed much to join in it.* To see all these simple good people in their nice plain dresses (including an old woman in her mutch), so many of whom I knew, and some of whom had walked far, old as they were, in the deep snow, was very striking. Almost all our own people were there. We came home at twenty minutes before two o'clock. * Since 1873 I have regularly partaken of the Com- munion at Crathie every autumn, it being always given at that time. i ■E? ^ -ff a- ( 156 ) The " Spate," 1872. tj t Tuesday, J?i7ie 11, 1872. Brown came In soon after four o'clock, saying he had been down at the waterside, for a child had fallen Into the water, and the whole district was out to try and recover it — but It must be drowned long- before this time. I was dreadfully shocked. It was the child of a man named Rattray, who lives at C aim- 7ia- Craig, just above where the new wood-merchant has built a house, and quite close to the keeper Abercromble's house, not far from Monaltrie Farmhouse In the street. At a lltde before five, set off In the waggonette with Beatrice and Janle Ely, and drove along the north side of the river. We stopped a little way beyond Tynebaich, and saw the people wandering along the riverside. Two women told us that two children had fallen in (how terrible !), and that onci " had -&' tJ a- a ( 157 ) been gotten — tlie little een " (as the people pro- nounce "one"), but not the eldest. They were searching" everywhere. While we were there, the old grandmother, Catenach by name, who lives at Scutter Hole, came running along in a great state of distress. She is Rattray's mother. We drove on a little way, and then turned round. We heard from the people- that the two boys, one of ten or eleven and the other only three, were at Monaltrie Burn which comes down close to the farmhouse and below Mrs. Patterson's shop, passing under a little bridge and running into the Dee, This burn is generally very low and small, but had risen to a great height — the Dee itself being tremendously high — not a stone to be seen. The little child fell in while the eldest was fishinQ: ; the other jumped in after him, trying to save his little brother ; and before anv one could come out to save them (though the screams of Abercrombie's child- ren, who were with them, were heard) they were carried away and swept by the violence of the current into the Dee, and carried along. Too dreadful ! It seems, from what I heard cominor back, that the poor mother was away from home, having gone to see her own mother who was ,: vUi , -I C& —1:3 ^ I I" .1 I \ i j>;i ; f ■ 1 i i- 1 1 L* 1 a- ^ ( >5!5 ) dying, and that she purposely kept this eldest boy back from school to watch the little one. We drove back and up to Mrs. Grant's, where we took tea, and then walked up along the river- side, and heard that nothing had been found and that the boat had gone back ; but as we approached nearer to the castle we saw people on the banks and rocks with sticks searching : amongst them was the p^^or father — a sad and piteous sight — crying and looking so anxiously for his poor child's body. IVedncscIay, ywie I2. Drove up to the Bush to warn Mrs. William Brown never to let dear little Albert run about alone, or near to the burn, of the danger of which she was quite aware. She said her husband, William, had started off early at three this morn- ing. Some pcrople went down to Abcrgcldie and as far as the Girnoch to search, and others were up and below the castle. No word of the poor child being found. All were to start early to scarcli. -Bi ^ a 4i ( '59 ) Thursday, June 13. At half-past ten drove out in the waggonette with Beatrice and Janie Ely, and drove beyond Mrs. Patterson's "shoppie" a little way, and turned up to the right off the road behind the wood-merchant's new cottage, and got out just below Abercrombie the keeper's house, and walked a few paces on to the small cottage called Cairn-na-Craii^; at the foot of Craig Noerdie, in a lovely position, sheltered under the hill, yet high, with a beautiful view oi Lochnaoar. Brown went in first, and was received by the old grand- mother ; and then we went in, and on a table in t!ie kitchen covered with a sheet, which the) lifted up, lay the poor sweet innocent "bairnie," only three years old, a fine plump child, and looking just as though it slept, with quite a pink colour, and very litde scratched, in its last clothes — with its little hands joined — a most touching sight. I let Beatrice sec it, and was glad she should see death for the first time in so touching and pleasing a form. Then the poor mother came in, calm and quiet. t rl 21 -ff If i m i lB- --a ( '60 ) though she cried a little at first when I took her hand and said how much I felt for her, and how dreadful it was. She checked herself, and said, with that o^rcat resio^nation and trust which it is so cdifN'ing to witness, and which you sec so strongly here, "We must try to bear it; we must trust to the Almighty." The poor little thing was called Sandy. She herself is a thin, pale, dark, very good, and re- spectable-looking woman. She had no wish to go away tl at day, as the old grandmother told us, but her husband wished her to see her mother. She has one boy and two girls left, and the eldest and youngest are taken. They were playing at the burnside, but some way al ove the road, where there is a small bridge. As we were leaving I gave lier some- thing, and she was quite overcome, and blessed me for it. We walked down again, and then drove back, and walked at once past the stables to the river- side, where, on both sides, every one was assem- bled, four in the boat (Donald Stewart and Jemmie Brown amongst them), and all with sticks, and up and down they went, searching ^ # . f a- JO* a ( '6« ) under every stone. They had been up to the boat pool and back, but nothing appeared. I remained watching till one o'clock, feeling unable to tear myself away from this terrible sight. The poor father was on our side, William Brown amonorst the others on the other side. I sat on the bank with Janie Ely for some time (Beatrice having gone in earlier than I), Grant as well as Brown standing near me. When they came to that very deep pool, where twenty-two years ago a man was nearly drowned when they were leistering for salmon, they held a piece of red cloth on a pole over the water, which enabled them to see down to the bo:tom. But all in vain. The river, though lower, was still very high. At four took a short drive in the single pony carriage with Janie Ely, and back before five. Saw and talked to the schoolmaster, Mr. Lubban, a very nice little man, and he said that this poor child, Jemmie, the eldest, was such a good, clever boy. Every one shows so much feeling and kind- ness. It is quite beautiful to see the way in which every one turned out to help to find this poor child, from the first thing in the morning till the last at night — which, during these long ff c; -ff n " ! . 1 a- ^ ( >62 ) days, was very hard work — and all seemed to feel the calamity deeply. We heard by telegraph during dinner that the poor boy's body had been found on an island opposite Paimanicli, below Ballatery and that steps would be taken at once to recover it. Sattn'day, June 15. After luncheon, at a quarter to three, drove with the two children up as far as the West Lodge, and then just descried the sad funeral procession slowly and sadly wending its way along the road ; so we drove back again, catching glimpses of it as we went along, and drove on a little way beyond the bridge, when, seeing the first people not far off, we turned and drove back, stopping close to the bridge, and here we waited to see them pass. There were about thirty people, I should say, including the poor father, Jemmie and Willie Brown, Francie's brother, Alick Leys, Farmer Patterson, etc. The poor father walked in front of one of the coffins ; both covered with white, and so small. It was a very sad sight. Dr. Taylor walked last with another gentleman. He had of course been up to the house and a -J f . _l~.- & tg- a ( >63 ) performed the service there, as is always done throughout Scotland by all the Protestant deno- minations except the Episcopalian, and no service whatever near the grave.* We watched the sad procession as long as we could, and drove home again. * A change has taken place since this was written, and now (1883) a prayer is sometimes said as well at the grave. M « ff " ^; ! M a I "J ' I II w a- f& ( '64 ) Visit to Hoi.ykood and Edinburgh, August 13, 1872, Tuesday, Augitsi 13. At six I left sweet Osborne with Leopold and Beatrice, Marie Leiningen, and the Duchess of Roxburghe, Flora Macdonald,* Colonels Ponsonby and De Ros, Mr. Collins, and Fraulein Bauer. It was very warm. The yachts, which were out, had a very pretty effect. At Gosport, where we had to wait about ten minutes before landing, as we arrived too soon, I took leave of dear Marie Leiningen, who was to return to Germany next day. We had our own usual large travelling railway carriages, which are indeed charming. It was a splendid night. Sir W. Jenner joined us at Basingstoke, and at Banbury at half-past ten we stopped for refreshments, and lay down before twelve. * The Hon. Flora Macdonald, Maid of Honour, now Bed- chamber Woman. a # ' -^ -w a- -a ( '6s ) Weduesday, A it on si 14. I had a g^ood deal of rest, and was up and dressed by eight, or a Httle past. But we had already passed Melrose, and there was so mucli fog, and the air so thick, that we could see very litde. The last station (not in a village or town) was Foiintainhall, where old Mr. Lawson, the former Lord Provost of Edinburgh and famous seedsman, came up to the carriage, and some little girls presented Baby (as Beatrice is always called by us still) with a nosegay. We passed Porto- bello, and a few minutes more brought us to the very station — the private one, outside Edi7d)nrgli — which for eleven years my beloved Albert and I had always arrived at, and where we left it together eleven years ago. There it wai], all un- altered, and yet all so altered I The General, Sir J. Douglas,* the Lord Pro- vost, and other official people received us there, and we got into our carriage. The tw^o children and the Duchess of Roxburghe w^ent in the car- riage with me. • Commanding the forces in Scotland, \k t- -J, t: I ,1 M^ 1^ m H ; f 1 ■y'\\ a a iyi;< ( '66 ) It was a dull, gloomy, heavy morning, but a great many people were out, and all most enthu- siastic, reminding me forcibly and sadly of former days. We had an escort of the Scots Greys. We drove up to the door of the old, gloomy, but historical Palace of Holyrood, where a guard of honour with a band of the 93rd Highlanders were stationed in the quadrangle of the court. We got out, walked up the usual stairs, and passed through two of the large gloomy rooms we used to occupy, and then went past some passages up anodicr and very steep staircase to the so-called ''Argyll rooms'' which have been arranged for me, with very pretty light paper, chintz, and carpets (chosen by Louise). There is a suite, be- ginning with a dining-room (the least cheerful) at the farthest end, and then my sitting-room, a large and most cheerful room, the nicest of all, with very light paper ; next to this the bedroom, almost too large a room, and out of this the dressing-room. All open one out of the other, and have, except the dining-room, the same pretty carpets and chintzes ('red geraniums on a white ground). The page's room and a wardrobe and dresser's room are just opposite, across a small passage. I i f& --# a J. ^ 1 We three took breakfast directly in the dining- room. Our rooms are above the old rooms, and have the same look-out. It cleared up, and though still thick and hazy, the sun shone out brightly, and at a quarter to twelve I went out into the garden, going through our old rooms, which looked sadly deserted : all open and some few things removed from them ; the gloomy bedroom with its faded tapestry and green silk bed, and the wretched little dark box- room in which I undressed at night, all full of many recollections. I went through the long picture gallery, dovvn the small steps into the garden, where I met Beatrice, who walked with me. We walked about the garden, w^hich is im- proved, but terribly overlooked, and quite '-xposed to public view on the side looking towards the street. We walked about the fine old chapel with its beautiful window and its tombstones, and then went in — Beatrice and I with Brown (who was much interested by all) — conducted by the keeper, an intelligent sensible man called Anderson, and visited the rooms of Queen Mary, beginning with the Hamilton apartments (which were Lord Darnit^ 's rooms) and going up the eld staircase a ''.■■I'. i n i II ^- -ff ii I i Iff a ^ ( i68 ) ^^ to Queen Mary's chamber. In Lord Darnley's rooms there are some fine old tapestry and inter- esting portraits of the Royal family, and of the Dukes and Duchesses of Hamilton. There are some other curious old pictures in this room. We saw the small secret staircase which led up in the turret to Queen Mary's bedroom, and we went up another dark old winding staircase at the top of which poor Rizzio was so horribly murdered — whose blood is still supposed to stain the floor. We entered the Presence Chamber, the ceiling of which, in panels, is from the time of Queen Mary, and contains her mother's and her own initials and arms as Dauphineof i nee and Queen of Scotland, with Darnley's initials. ^T^^e Is the bed provided for Charles I. when he came to Holyrood to be crowned King of Scotland. Thence we were shown into poor Queen Mary*s bedroom, where are the faded old bed she used, the baby-basket sent her by Queen Elizabeth when King James I. was born, and her work-box. All hung with old tapestry, and the two little turret rooms ; the one where she was supping when poor Rizzio was murdered, the other her dressing-room. Bits of the old tapestry which covered the walls at -ff i ..:? B^ ;i I *l • 4 a ^ ( '69 ) the time are hung up in frames in the rooms. Beatrice is immensely interested by all she sees, and delig-hted with everything. At half-past five drove off in the open landau arid four with Beatrice, Leopold, and the Duchess of Roxburghe, the two equerries riding. We drove up through the Canongate, that curious old street with its vei^y high-storied houses, past Knoxs House and quaint old buildings, with the lowest, poorest people about, down Bajik Street, and eastward along Princes Street, that splendid street with its beautiful shops, hotels, etc., on one side, and its fine monuments on he other, the gardens and institutions and other parts of the town rising above it and crowned by the pictu- resque Castle \ then by Saint Andrew S.'.'ett, across Saint Ancfreiu Square (where Lord Mel- ville's statue is), along George Street, a fine wide street, at the end of which is Charlotte Square, where my dear one s Monument is to bj placed, and where I was to have stopped to look at the site. But the crowd, which was very great everywhere and would run with us (facilitated by the great steepness and slipperiness of the streets), as well as the great number of cabs and vehicles of all kinds a ^ t '■■}, lit V u it 11: 5 ■A • \ m ill [& a ( 170 ) which would drive along after us everywhere, made this impossible. We turned to the left with some difficulty — one or two carriages coming in contact with ours — and went on by Hope Street, Qneeiis Fc'/iy Street, where we took a wrong turn, and went bv Clarendo]i Crescent and Forres Street till we got to the Water of Leit/i, where we found we could not go on. VVe had to turn, with consideral^le difficulty, owing to the narrowness of the road, and go back again by Moray Place, IJei'iot Roiv, and thence down by Pitt Street on to Inverleith Roiu (o'ltside the town), past the Botanic Garden, then along the Queen s Ferry Road, Pilrig Street, and Lcilli Walk (which I remembered from our having taken the same drive in 1861), then along a broad street, under the Calton Hill, and Regent 7errace, past Holy rood, into the beautiful Queens Drive, right round Arthur s Seat with its fine crrass, ils rocks and small lochs. Unfortunately, however, no clear distant view could be obtained on account of the fog. Home to Holy rood at half-past seven. It was a fatiguing drive. The crowds were very great, but the people behaved remarkably well ; only they kept cheering I 5 B- -tl It It c fi' •; [fi — a ( >7i ) and shouting and running with us, for the postilions drove very slowly whenever there was the slightest descent, and there were many in the town, and one long one coming down home from the Queens Drive. A good many flags were out, but there were hardly any decorations. The equerries kept extremely well close up to the carriage, which was no easy task. Thursday, August 15. Again a very foggy morning. Breakfasted at half-past nine. Beatrice and Leopold started to go and see Roslin Chapel. Walked a little in the garden at half-past ten, and then sat for half an hour under the only tree which afforded shade and was not overlooked by the street, a thorn, with very overhanging long branches, on a small grassy mound or "hillock." Here I read out of a volume of Poems by the " Ettrick Shepherd," full of beautiful things (which Bro-vn had given me some years ago), and wrote till half-past twelve. At half-past five I started as yesterday with Beatrice, Leopold, and the Duch(\'^s of Rox- burghe, the two equerries riding, and took a very ff w I- ' i- i si I li I , Ml ik II i li a- ^ ( 172 ) long" — rather too long — drive. It would have been quite beauti/ul and most enjoyable from the very fine scenery with rich vegetation, fine trees, and hills, and dales, with the Pentlaiids in the distance, had it not been for a dark, heav)', leaden fog and sky like November, but warmer, which obscured all the distance in the most pro- voking way, and at one time even came down in a rather heavy shower. We went out by the Queens Drive, going to the right as we left Holyrocd. Numbers of people surrounded the entrance, and, as there is a long ascent part of the way, some of them, especially boys, ran along with us. We proceeded by the Liber ton Road, on past the villages of Sttaiton, Lassioadc (very pictu- resque, and which I Vv^ell remember from 1842), and Bonnyrigg, to Dalhotisie Castle, where we had visited the late Marquis and Marchioness from Dalkeith in 1842 (the Duchess of Buccleuch drove me over), an old Scotch castle in red stone, where, however, we did not get out. It had been raining, but we did not shut the carriage, and just as we had thought of doing so the rain ceased. From here we drove under a very fine viaduct along the South Esk, pact Newbattlc (not into -a ^ ^ -a .1 -ff a t& ^ ( 173 ) the grounds) — where there is an arch which was built for George IV. to drive through, but he never went there — on through the small town of Dalkeith, where many people, as indeed in almost every other place, had collected, into the Park of Dalkeith. Here, as well as everywhere in the neighbourhood, there are beautiful trees, especially some very fine sycamores. We drove up to the house, and got out, as I wished the children to see the rooms where we had lived. The staircase and the gallery where I held the Drawing-room I remembered well, as also the dining-room. Our former rooms were shown us ; but though the bed and even the washing-basin still exist, the rooms which had been arranged for us are altered. We visited it last in September 1859. The population of DalUith and of all the villages about here are colliers and miners, and are very poor. We came home straight, coming into the same road as we started by, and going down the hill of the Qtieens Drive. We collected again a goodly and most good-humoured crowd, and saw the little boys and girls rolling down the steep hill^ and people pouring in from the town to get a sight of us. cB- ( 174 ) -a * I' ' Friday, Ainrust i6. A thoroughly wet clay. At half-past eleven I walked out with Flora Macdonald (whose name attracted great attention in Edinburgh), right across the court to the stables, which are very good, and saw all belonging to them — harness- room, coach-house, etc. Then I looked into the guard-room next door, where the guard, who were called out and drawn up thinking I was coming by, did not know us. I went in behind them, and I found a sergeant (I think) of the 93rd in full dress, with four medals, and I asked him his } cars' service, which were twenty, and where he came from — " Perthshire" Two other men, who were cooking and had their coats off, were in the room where they also slept. The newspapers have reported an absurd conversation of mine with them, but none took place. We then walked back through the house into the garden, and finally came home through the chapel at half-past twelve. It was raining hard, but nevertheless we started at half-past four in the open landau, Beatrice f ^ ff bl \ G -a ? » ^ i ( 175 ) and tlie two ladles with me, the two equerries riding. We drove by way of Princes Street, which overlooks the Mound with its gardens and fine buildings, and is always so animated and full of people on foot and in carriages ; crossed the Dean Bridge, which commands a most beautiful view, though then it was obscured by the pelting rain ; passed Stezva7't\ Asylum, a fine new building, getting from the road a good view of another fine institution, Fettes College, built only wltiiln the last few years ; and so on to the ^^auer, and Lord Granville, and drove to Ballater, where Colonel Ponsonby, Sir \V. Jenner, and Mr. Collins met us. Besides Brown, who superintends everything for me, Emilie Dittweiler, Annie Mac- donald, Jemmie Morgan, my second piper Willie Leys, Beatrice's, Leopold's, and Lady Churchill's attendants, three footmen and Goddard went with us. We passed into the station at Aberdeen, which was immensely crowded. An address and the keys were presented by Provost Leslie ; then Lord Kintore (who gave me a nosegay and some fruit) and young Lord Aberdeen were presented. The B .! f& w ■d t) B= I fl^ 11 mil lit --a. ( >7Q ) clay was becoming fine, and it was excessively hot. From Aberdeen we went by a line totally new to me — past Inverurie, close past the hill of J^emuhie^ and got a good sight of the Buck of Cabrach and the surrounding hills, past Iluntly and the ruined Castle of Huntly to Keith, where the Banff Volun- teers were drawn up and there were many people close to the station, but no one on the platform. Here we were delayed by one of the doors, from the bedroom into the little dressing-room, refusin^r to open. Annie had gone through shortly before we got to Keith, and wlu^n she wanted to go back, the door would not open, and nothing could make it open. Brown tried with all his might, and with knives, but in vain, and we had to take in the two railway men with us, hammering and knock- ing away as we went on, till at last they forced it open. We were at Keith at 1.20, and at Elgin at 1.58. The station here was beautifully decorated ; there were several arches adorned with flowers and heather, and a platform with raised seats for many ladies. The Provost and the Duke of Richmond and Lord March were there. The Provost presented an address, and then I spoke to the Duke of Richmond, who told me that dear i-,K-r-«- NB W I 1; ;♦! ■ \ h. t' I f I r I a ^ -^ ( >s^ ) Uncle Leopold had received the freedom of tlie city when he was staying in the neighbourhood in 1 8 19. The ruins of the Cathedral are said to be the finest in Scotland, and the town is full of ancient recollections. No British sovereign has ever been so far north. The Provost's dauohtcr presented me with a nosegay. We stopped here about ten minutes. It was broiling hot. The corn and oats looked ripe, and were cut in many places. After this we took our luncheon (cold), and as we were sitting at the small table we suddenly found ourselves passing slowly, without stopping, the station of Fon'es, near which is the wild " muir" which Shakespeare chose as the scene of Macbeth's meeting with the witches. Nairn lies very prettily on the shore of the Moray Frith. We passed Ctillodcn, and the moor where that bloody battle, the recol- lection of which I cannot bear, was fought. The heather beautiful everywhere, and now the scenery became very fine. At half-past three we were at hiverness^ the capital of the Highlands^ the position of which is lovely. We stopped here for ten mi- nutes, but outside the station. There was an im- mense crowd, but all very well managed, and no ■ff ^ U I _^- ft — ff -Bj I I — ( 'S. ) squeeze or crush. There were numbers of seats in galleries filled with ladies, among whom I re- coc^niscd Mrs. Cluny Macpherson. Cliiny Mac- pherson himself was in command of the Volunteers. On the platform to the left (the Volunteers and the galleries with seats were to the right) was the Provost, Dr. Mackenzie, a fine-looking old man in a kilt, with very while ha'r and a long white bear J, who presented an address. L.ord Seafield, the Master of Lovat. Mr. Bailiie of Doc J. four, and his son Mr. Evan liaillie, were all there and I said a word to each. The Provosts grand-daughter pre- sented a bouquet. There was an inimense crowd at the back of the platform. As our train proceeded, the scenery was lovely. Near the ruins of the old Priory of Bcanly the river of tlie same rame fiows into the Beastly Frith f' and the fridi looks like an enormou.s lake with hills rising; above it wliich were reflected on the perfccdy still water. The light and colour- incf were nither crrev, but had a charmin^f effect At twenty minutes to four we reached Di/igzcall, where there were Volunteers, as indeed there were everywhere, and where another address * Lcauly, so called from the French " Beau lieu." ■ >i ni. ■"'■ \ W ' ! ' C& ( 'S2 ) was presented and also flowers. Sir J. Madieson, Lord Lieutenant of the count)', was named to me, also the Vice Lieutenant ; and some young ladies gave Beatrice nosegays. The position of Ding- wall, in a glen with hills rising above it, is ex- tremely pretty, and reminds me of a village in SzvitzcrlaiuL The head of the Croniartie Frith appears here. After this and passing slowly Tain and St. DtitliKs (called after the Cathedral there), we thought, as we did not stop, and were not to do so, that we would take our tea and coffee— which kept quite hot in the Norwegian kitchen — when suddenly, before we had finished, wc stopped at Bonar Bridge, and the Duke of Suther- land came up to the door. He had been driving the engine (!) all the way from Ihverness, but only appeared now on account of this being the boun dary of his territory, and the commencement of the Sutherland railroad. He expressed the honour it was to him that I was coming to Dunrobin. Lord Ronald L. Gower also came up to the carriage- door. There was a most excited station-master who would not leave the crowd of poor country- people in quiet, but told them to cheer and "cheer again," another "cheer," etc., without ceasing. ■a qj- ^? 1 r I % :„ ■a da- ft ( '83 ) Here the Dornoch Frith, which first appears at Tain, was left behind, and we entered the glen of the Shin. The railway is at a very high level here, and you see the Shin winding below with heathery hills on either side and many fine rocks, wild, solitary, and picturesque. The Duchess of Sutlierland's own property begins at the end of this glen. At six we were at Golspie station, where the Duchess of Sutherland received us, and where a detachment of the Sutherland Volunteers, who look very handsome in red jackets and Suther- land tartan Kilts, was drawn up. I got into the Duchess's carriage, a barouche with four horses, the Duke riding, as also Lady Plorence and their second son Lord Farbat, and drove through the small town — one long street like Dufftown — which is inhabited chielly by a fishing po[^ulation, and was extreir.ely prettily decorated with heather and flowers, a:i -. where there were many triumphal arches with Gaelic inscriptions (which I annex) and some very pretty English ones. •n us ■Vi \ " Ar Buidheachas do 'n Bhuadhaich." " Our gratitude to Victoria." f& -ff r ■ii e t& nzi ( 184 ) " Na h-uile lath chi's nach fhaic, slainte duibli 'is so'as "Health and happincis, far or near." (Literally — " Every day see \vc you, or see \vc not, health to you and hap}jincss.") "Ceud mile failte do Chattaobh." "A hundred thousand welcomes to Sutherland." " Failte do 'n laith Buidhe." " Hail to the lucky day." ** Better lo'ed you canna' be Will you no come back again ? '' Everywhere the loyalty and enthusiasm were very great. In about ten minutes we were at Dim- robin Castle. Coming suddenly upon it as one does, or rather driving down to it, it has a very fine imposing appearance with its very high roof and turrets, a mixture of an old Scotch castle and French chateau, Constance Westminster (the Marchioness of Westminster, the Duke's youngest sister) was at the door, and Annie Sutherland's little girl in the hall, which is, as also the staircase, all of stone, with a sort of gallery going round opening into a corridor. But I will describe this and the rooms to-morrow. 0= S ni'] [fi — t^ {? I ( 185 ) The Duchess took me to my rooms, which had been purposely arranged and handsomely furnished by the dear late Duke and Duchess for us both, and consist of a sittin^^-room next to the drawinof-room, with a little turret communicating by a small pas- sage with the dressing roon, which opens into the bedroom and another ro( m wh'.'h is my maid's room, and was intended for devest Albert's dressincr- room. I went to see Beatrice's room, which is close b)^ dow-n three, steps in the same passage. Frau- lein Bauer, and Morgan, her dresser, are near her. Brown lives just opposite in the room intended for Albert's valet. It was formerly the prison. Rested a little while, for I felt very tired. Dined at half-past eight alone in my sitting-room with Beatrice and Leopold, Brown waiting. Shortly afterwards Annie Sutherland came to see us for a little while, and later Jane Churchill. The children went early to bed. Ditnrobin, Saturday, September 7. I will now describe my rooms. They are very high ; the bedroom is the largest and very hand- some, with a beautiful bed with white and gold \:^ A, 'ti '■i > ,:' K l ! 1 '/ 'i J' i^ ' f ■ u • .1 *l il ■ ■;| i --.■■A' •■ :.f , ■ ■ - -- ) ; 11 ■ * ; . ■ i • (1 I : t m if i ; I [u a B- ^D ( i86 ) flowers and doves at each corner /just like one at Clievcdcii), with light blue furniture, and gold and white round the cornice of the ceiling ; pale blue and white panels ; blue satin spangled with yellow leaves (which look just like gold) on the walls ; and furniture and carpet to match. The dressing-rooin the same, but pale blue and pink silk fluted, on the walls. The sitting-room pale sea-green satin, with the cyphers of the late Duke and Duchess and their daui^hters on the ceiling;". The furniture of light wood, and the sofas, chairs, tables, etc., remind me greatly of Clievedcn and Sf afford Hoitse. The little boudoir has a small domed ceiling*, spangled with golden stars, and the same furniture. There are some pretty pic- tures in the sitting-room and prints in the other rooms. At half-past nine we breakfasted in the siiting-room, and scon after saw the Duchess. At twenty minutes to eleven, I walked out with the Duchess and Beatrice to the steps, of which there are several flio^hts, leadini^^ down to the garden, which is very pretty, and where there are fountains, and from here straight on to the sea, which is closer to the house, by half a mile 1 should say, than at Osborne. We walked along 4 I i: i! ■ ■^3 & i CJ ( >87 ) here, and then up and into the pretty byre for Ayrshire cows, and a little farther on to the dairy, a very nice, cool round one. The Duchess told Brown to open the sitting-room, and wc found it occupied by a policeman in bed, which we were not at all prepared for, and which caused much amusement. Florence, Jane Churchill, and Fraulein Bauer had joined us here, and shortly after the Duke did so too. We walked back through the kitchen garden, which is very well kept, and the Duke also showed us where he has a quantity of young salmon which are artificially liatched, and also a new apparatus for watering g;rass. We came home by the steps again. There is plenty of shade, but rather too many trees. The old part of the Castle is as old as the twelfth century. The late Duke enlarged it and added on the towers, and finished the new part in 1849-50. In at a quarter to twelve. A dull muggy day. We lunched as we breakfasted. Afterwards read- ing, etc., and at twenty minutes past four drove out in the waggonette (Bourner* driving, as I * My coachman and postilion, who has been thirty-eight years in my service. — 1883. ^ — ft ff i Hi ^ 1 m ! i I ii 1 I ■!■ 1 a- ^ ^ ( if^s ) had sent my own carrlaL;e and ponies) with the Duchess, Constai'ice Westminster, and Jane Churchill. We drove past the monument of the late Duke, which faces the Castle and is outside the gates, close to which is the Duke's private little station, used only by the fam'ly ; rather near, for it cannot be above five hundred yards from the house, but it is very well managed, so as to be but little seen. We drove by the four cross- roads turninif to the left i\\r 'owc^h Dunj'od in JVojii, which is really very pretty, with fine Scotch firs and other trees of all kinds, beech, oak, ash, anc' birch, above and below the drives, with quantities of lovely pink heather and ferns — some parts of the drive are rather steep — on to Bacchics, then by the Dittch Cottage, on to Bcnabhraghic r rive, and stopped at the four cross-roads to take our made tea and coffee, the warmth of which sur- prised Constance and Annie very much. We sau' some deer. Drove on by the same drive {Bc7i- adhrag/iie, the name of the hill on which the old Duke's very colossal statue stands). We stopped a little farther on to look at a fine view of the Casde and village, and to the right the hills which are seen farther inland, and the blue distant hills tf a -fti ( 1S9 ) above the coast of Ross-shire ; then came out at Citlmallie Lodge and passed through the village of Golspie with all its pretty decorations, and stopped at two cottages outside, when Annie called out a nice-looking girl who makes beautiful Shetland shawls in the one, and an oldish woman, a charac- ter, who worked me a book-marker and lives in the other (a double cottage under one roof). We drove through the Golspie BtLvn and dairy park, along the grass drive on the seashore below the woods, as far as Strathstcphen, and looking back had one of the finest views of the Castle, with the hills of Ca^nbiisruore rising behind, and, turning up into the Caithness high road, came back to the Castle. Home at half-past six. A dull evening. Tried to sketch a bit of sea-view. At a quarter past eight we had dinner in the dining-room with the Duke and Annie (between whom I sat), Leo- pold, Constance Westminster, the Granvilles, Jane Churchill, and Ronald. I felt strange — such a dinner in a strange place for the first time with- out my dear one ! Brown waited on me, and did so at all meals, attending on me indoors and out of doors, most efficiently and indefatigably. I :'i I '& # .'4 ir.Kt 3r m 1: > a -• — . — ^. -ttM. ..^-»., «.l *- -^^' ■ *— - 1 t- ( '90 ) Then went for a short time into the drawing- room, which is next my sitting-room. Here we were joined by Mrs. Sumner (Miss Kingscote by birth, half-sister to Colonel Kingscote and niece to Lord Bloom field), a great friend of the Duchess's and who is staying in the house with her husband, who is a great friend of the Duke's ; Constance Pitt, a younger sister of Mary Pitt, and travelling with her uncle and Lady Granville ; Dr. Fayrer (a distinguished physician, who was for two years in /mha)* Mr. Sumner, and Mr. Edwin Lascelles, brother to Mary. I remained for a few minutes, and then went to my room. Sunday, September 8. A fine bright morning. Breakfast as yesterday. Directly after it, at a quarter-past ten, walked with Beatrice along the Ladys Walk, as it is called, which commences near the Castle and goes for a mile and a half entirely amongst trees, very shady, i and overlooking the sea, and with paths leading down to the sea, and seats commanding lovely * He travelled with Alfred, and has written a remarkable book on snakes. a B -^-•- --ff ^ a ^^JU^^M^ »>«.-aift^JK« tfw ( ■?> ) views of the sea and distant coast. It was very warm, and the thickness of the adjoining woods made the air feel close. We walked back the same way, and got home at a quarter-past eleven. At twelve tliere was quite a short service performed by Dr. Gumming in the gallery which runs round the staircase, Dr. Gumming being opposite to us. It was over by a quarter to one. Annie then took mc up to her room, which is a very pretty one ; long, but not high, and very light, with a v^ery fine view above all the trees ; very simply furnished. Her dress- ing-room and bedroom equally nice and airy, like thos(i they have at Stafford House. The Duke's dressing-room is very simply and plainly furnished ; he is wonderfully plain and simple in his tastes. The Duchess took me along the passage to where Florence lives, and to the nursery where we saw little Alix in her bed, and then by a staircase, which belongs to the very old part of the Gasde, to the rooms which were the dear late Duke's and Duchess's, though the last time she came here she lived in my rooms. Everywhere prints of ourselves and of people I know. After this came down again. Luncheon as yesterday. At twenty minutes past four walked to the I 'tl f Hi If 'i ■ii: llil — ff ^ w i\ It: il cB- -D: ( 19^ ) nearest scat in the Laiiys lV(i/l\ and skctclK^d the view, and al)()nt half- past [\\'v. drown ont in the \va^_(i^onette with Beatrice and Lady Gran- ville. We drove throuL,di the Uppat Woods, alont^ the l)ig burn drive, past the Pictish Toivcr up to Mr. Loch's Memorial, wliich has the foIlowinLT inscription on it by the late Duchess : — TO THE HONOURED MEMORY OF JAMKS LOCEI, WHO LOVl'.n IN THE SF.P.F.NE EVENING OF HIS LIFE TO LOOK AROUND IIIM HERE. May his children's rhil(hcn gallicr here, and think of Iiiin whose life was spent in viiluous labour fur the land he loved and for the friends he served, who have raised these stones, a. u. 1S58. OUIIT JUNII 28" 1S55. The heather is very rich all round here. We got out and went into it, and there is a very fine view looking up Dunrobiti Glen and over the sea, and Birk Head, which is the extreme point of the land which runs into the sea. You also get a very pretty glimpse of the Castle at the end of a path cut through the wood. We drove down again, and before we were out of the lower wood, which is close down upon the sea-shore, we stopped to take tfe^— -^ I'i r —a ( 'W ) our tea and coffee, but were half devoured by midges. We tlien came out upon the high road, and got into the sea-shore road, about half a mile beyond where we went yesterday, and drove along it and in by the Dairy — home at seven. Resting, writing. Dined in our sitting-room with our two children and Annie. Afterwards we went into the drawing-room where the ladies and gentlemen were, but I only stayed a short time. Monday, September 9. Raining a little early in the day. After break- fast drove in the waggonette with Beatrice and Jane Churchill to the Kennel, a remarkably nice and clean one to the left, and rather farther on than the stables, which are close to the railway station. Mr. Macdonald, the head keeper (who is brother to our poor Macdonald, Albert's late Jager), whom I saw at Windsor two years ago, showed us over them. There are fine deer- hounds and pointers and setters. We visited the Macdonalds in their nice house, and saw their daughters, three of whom are very good-looking and remind me of their cousins. He is not the '5- W \ i ■..M ;,1 fe ^r? M > 51 i Lllj I c& fci- ( 194 ) least like his brother. From here we went to the stables, which are small, where my ponies were, and where we also saw some of Annie's ponies and horses. Then walked home, meeting the Duke and Ronald on the way. Two splendid Highland beasts, which are being fattened for the Christmas show, were brought up to the road for me to see. We passed the herd they belong to yes- terday, when driving. These beasts really are beau- tiful, and most picturesque, with their rough coats, shaggy heads, and immense spreading horns ; the greatest number are dun- and mouse-coloured. At twenty-live minutes past twelve I started with the two children and Annie for the laying of the first stone of the Memorial to be raised by the clansmen and servants to the memory of my dear Duchess of Sutherland, who was adored in Sutherland. We drove in the barouche and four. The rain had quite ceased. Everyone else had gone on before ; the Duke waited to help us in, and then ran on followed by MacAlister, his piper, valet, and confidential servant — a short stout man of sixty, I should say — an excellent man, and first- rate piper. We got out, and I went up on a platform, which was covered over and close to the a ^j *"^ ■w G ( 195 ) Stone, with the children, Annie, the Duke, Con- stance, and Jane Churchill. All the others, and mary spectators, stood around. Mr. Joass, the minister there, offered up a short prayer, and after it presented (but did not read) the Address. I then answered what I had thought over, but spoke without reading" : " It gives me great pleasure to testify on this occasion my love and esteem for the dear Duchess, my valued friend, with whose children I am happy to be now staying, and I wish also to express my warm thanks for the loyal and hearty welcome I have met with in S2itJierlandr This made me very nervous, but It was said without hesitating. Then the usual ceremony of spreading the mortar and of striking the stone witli a mallet was gone through. The Duke gave me a drawing of the intended Memorial, which is to be an Eleanor cross, with a bust of the dear Duchess, and a medal of her which Ronald L. Gower had struck. After this we got into the carriage again, amid the cheers of the people, and drove back. Only Leopold walked, and Constance took his place in the carriage. We were in, before one. Almost directly afterwards k- a 03 r -irt 1 I'Ji v% i • I \ ■» \\ '■' . « 'f 1 it 1^ ifl ( •9''> ) Beatrice and I went into the ante-room (where all the company who afterwards had hmcheon were as- sembled) with Annie and the Duke, who presented some people to me ; amongst others a very old lady, Mrs. Houston byname, who is between eighty and ninety, and was a great friend of the dear Duchess and of the Duchess of Norfolk. She was quite overcome, and said, '* Is that my dear Queen," and, taking the Duke's hand, "and my darling Duke ?" Luncheon as usual. After it saw Lord Granville. At a quarter past fon*- drove out in the waggonette, drawn by four of the Duke's hor.ses, with Beatrice, Annie, and Constance. It was fine though not very bright weather, and windy. We drove to the top of Benabhraghie, or the Monui7tent Hill, on which is the very colossal statue of the Duke's grandfather, the first Duke, who married the Countess of Sutherland, from whom this enormous property came. She died in 1839, and I re- member her quite well as a very agreeable, clever old lady. We drove through part of the wood by the way we went the previous days, up the big burn drive and through BacchieSy looking up Diinrobin Glen, which is very wild ; and the pink heathery hills, though not very high, and the ^- I •a ff ft [&- ( 197 ) a ;he he ■ff ^ moor, with distant hills, were ver}^ pretty. It is a long pull upwards on a grass drive, which makes it very hard work for the horses. Halfway up we stopped to take tea and coffee ; and before that, Brown (who has an extraordinary eyr for it, when driving quite fast, which I have not) espied a piece of white heather, and jumped off to pick it. No Highlander would pass by it without picking it, for it is considered to bring good luck. We got a very extensive view, though not quite clear, of endless hills between this and the west coast — all the Duke's property — where the Westminsters have two if not three forests of the Duke's. In fine weather seven counties are to be seen in the other direction, looking towards Ross-shire and the Moray Frith, but it was not clear enough for this. We saw distinctly Ben Rinnes, a highish hill that rises in the distance above a long stretch of low land extending into the sea which belongs to the Duke of Richmond. We drove down the hill the same way, but afterwards took a different turn into the high-road, and home by Golspie and the Lodge by seven. The dear pretty little girl came to see me. Beatrice brought -t? i \ \ ■^ I i ■, ' t. s ' r > I'M • i :'jl S' ' a — --'^1 ^ ( '98 ) in Lllah Grosvcnor, who had just arrived. Dined at a quarter-past eight in the dining-room, as on Saturday. The same people exactly, with the addition of Colonel Ponsonby. We had some sheep's head, which I tasted for the first time on Sunday, and think really very good. Remained a little while in the drawing-room, and the Duke presented Mr. Stanley, the discoverer of Living- stone. He talked of his meeting with Livingstone, who he thinks will require eighteen months to finish the work on which he is bent. Sir Henry Rawllnson was also there. Then went to my room and Jane read. Tuesday, September lo. Very fine. Our usual breakfast. At half-past ten get on my pony Maggie, Annie and Jane Churchill walking, and went to see the Golspie Bzcrii Falls. We made two mistakes before we got right. We went out by the usual approach down to the mill, and past die mill under the ^ great arch for the railway, over some very rough L tones in the river, and then along a path in the wood full of hazel bushes and trees of all -EP I m i fb c B- ft ( 199 ) kinds, till the glen narrows very much, and we came to a wooden bridge, where I got off and walked to the head of the falls — over several foot-bridges, along a small path overhung by high rocks and full of rich vegetation. It is extremely pretty, reminding me of Corricmtihie, only on a much smaller scale. I mounted my pony again, and rode home the same way about twelve. Very warm. We had a few drops of rain, but it re- mained very fine all day. At ten minutes to four started with the two children and Annie Sutherland in my waggonette for Loch Brora, which is nine miles off. We drove past the stables out on the main Caithness road, through the small fishing village of Brora, where all the people were out, and where they had raised a triumphal arch and decorated the village with heather. We turned sharp to the left, and came into a wild moor country, stopping for a moment at a place where one of the new coal mines which the Duke has found is beiner worked. One of these, near the sea, we had passed on Sunday. Then on, till we came very soon to the commencement of Loch Brora, which is seven miles in length, very narrow at first, and i ■' i.i , li -EP [g — ■EP ill I i' [fi- -a t& ( 200 ) out of which the Brora flows into the sea. The hills heighten as the loch widens, and to the left as we drove along the Carrol Hill rises very finely with bold rocks up above the loch. An hour's drive took us to the Fishing Cottage, a small wooden house, built like a chalet, which is just ofT the road, on the grass. Here we got out. The Duke drove his break, four horses in hand. They had never been together before, and it was not easy to drive them, for the road is full of turn- ings and rather narrow. Lord Granville sat on the box with him ; and Constance Westminster, Jane Churchill, the Duchess de San Arpino (who had just arrived, and is a great friend of the Duchess) and Lady Granville were inside, and two grooms sitting behind. The three young ladies, and Mr. Collins, and Colonel Ponsonby followed in the waggonette. They had started before us, but we caught them up at Brora. MacAlister had broiled some fish and got tea ready for us in a very small room upstairs in this little cottage, where there was a fire. I had my coffee. We ladies and Leopold all squeezed into this room. It was a very merry tea. The tea over, we all went down to see a haul of fish. It was very success- -ff ^iu a -ff ^ cS- ^ ( 201 ) ful ; quantities of brilliantly red char, trout, and two salmon, both of which had to be put back again. After this haul I went up and sat sketch- ing on the balcony while there were several more hauls, which Macdonald the keeper superintended, and some walked, and others rowed. The view, looking towards the Carrol Hill, was lovely, and the colouring beautiful. The ladies and gentlemen rowed across, havin^^ sent the carriages round, but I preferred terra fij'jua, and drove round the loch to where the Black-Water runs into Loch Brora, and is literally black ; we drove over it. The Duchess told us that there was a fine d-'ve into a wild country up that glen. We drove along the loch side, really a beautiful drive, under the Carrol Rock or Hill, through the Carrol Wood; Uie trees seem to grow remarkably well there. We saw some deer on the very top of the hills. As we drove along the loch, some high hills were seen rising up behind the low ones on the opposite side, one of which, called Ben Arlmin, is in the Duke's nearest deer-forest. We turned to the right, passing by moors which the Duke has cultivated wonderfully with the a -ff a ri! .tf a "^i ( 202 ) Steam plouirh, and came back through Uppai stopping near Mr. Loch's place, Uppat, wliere, in early days, the late Duke and Duchess used to live when they were Lord and Lady Govver. Mr. Loch's father was the commissioner for th^. late Duke, and the present Mr. Loch (whom I remember in a similar capacity at Worsley, Lord I'Lllesmere's, in 185 i) is commissioner to the present Duke. Mrs. Loch, and her daughter, and little granddaughter, wl>o gave me a nosegay, were there. And the Dol schoolchildren were drawn up outside the school. We got home through the Vv^oods at twenty minutes past seven. Dinner was at half-past eight in the dining-room, the same as before, only with the addition of the Duchess of San Arpinoand Sir Henry Rawlinson, and the omission of Lord Ronald L. Gower and Colonel Ponsonby. I must now describe the dinino-room. It is not a very large room, but a pretty one ; with wood panelling and a portrait of the first Duchess's father, the Earl of Sutherland, at one end, ai^l a beautiful chalk drawing, by Landseer, of two deer in the snow, one having been killed by the other. Stags' heads are round the room, and behind one (a very fine one) gaspipes have been introduced, I3r-.^ a ^ ( 203 ) which lli^lit up each point. In each panel along the sides of the room are paintings after Thor- waldsen's statues. By daylight the room is dark We had some haggis at dinner to-day, and some sheep's head yesterday. MacAh'ster had walked round the table each of the previous days playing, but to-day it was my piper,* Willie Leys ; and afterwards they played together in the next room. Went acrain for a little while Into the drawintj- room, which is handsome, and about the size of the dining-room, and cheerfully arranged with tables and ornaments. The paper on the walls is dark red. There Is a little turret at one end of it, and windows on two sides, and it opens into the ante- room, which again opens into the library. There Is a full-length picture of me in the ante- room. The dining-room is a detached room on the other side ; and the billiard-room Is close opposite to my sitting-room. Jane Churchill again read to me in my room. Wednesday, September ii. A dull rrorning. The military manoeuvres In tJie South seem to be going on very satisfactorily, * He left my service in 1876. -a ^ 'Hi 15 M ■ m " II '; ) I' 1:1 i IT' *l ft ii 'vli a ( 204 ) and everyone praises dear Arthur, his indefatigable real and pains. It is very gratifying. At a quarter to eleven walked with jane Churchill and the Duke down to the small museum in the garden, which is very nicely arranged, and where there is a very interesting collection of Celtic ornaments, some of which are quite perfect, and have been very well imitateJ, and of all sorts of odd and curious Celtic remains, weapons, utensils, etc., and a very fine large collection of all the birds found at or near Dunrobin. Mr. Joass, the minister, was there to explain everything to us. We took a short turn, and came home at half past eleven, as it rained. We met little Alix on her wee pony. We also saw the Duchess's Nor- wegian cariole and pony. (Busy choosing presents to give away ; and after our usual luncheon there was some more arranging about these presents.) Painting the view of the sea from my window. At ten minutes to four started in the waggonette, with the two children and Annie. The Duke, the other ladies, Ronald L. Gower, Colonel Ponsonby, and Sir Henry Rawlinson had gone on in the drag. We drove out by the West Lodge i through Golspie^ on the road (on part C^w^ •a ff I [B- a ^ ( ^05 ) of vrhlch we had come before) under the Siher Hill, a very pretty wooded road, and turned to the right across the Mound, an embankment con- structed by the first Duke to make a communica- tion across an arm of the sea, called Lock Fleets which comes in there. This Mound "spans Strathjleety Near it is a railway station. We then drove through a very pretty glen, with fine hills, to Dornoch, along the shore of Dornoch Frith, past Catnbusmore (though not near the house, which lies up in the wood at the foot of the fine hill of that name), on through woods for some way, till we suddenly emerged on lower ground and saw the steeple of Dornoch Church, formerly a cathedral. We turned sharp to the left, and went into Dornoch ; quite a small place, but the capital of Sntherland, now much out of the world, as the railway does not go near it. It is a small fishing town, smaller than Golspie. There was an arch with a Gaelic inscription, and the houses were decorated with flowers, heather, and green boughs, and many people 01: t. We drove to the door of the so-called cathedral ; though I had not intended doing it, I got out there, and walked up the # "I J I ♦» ! ■I i. ,!• ! l! C& fr ( 206 ) larg^c kirk. The late Duke's father and motlier arc buried there, as were sixteen Earls of Suther- land ; and there is a statue of the old Duke in marble. The cathedral was built by Gilbert de Moravia, Bishop from 1223 to 1260, at his own expense. St. Gilbert was related to the Sutherlands, who had then recently acquired that vast territory, '• the Southern land of Caithness!^ which now gives the title to their descendant, the present and third Duke. In a very ancient stone sarcophagus are the bones of Richard Murray, brother to the Bishop. We only remained a few minutes in the church, and then went out by another door, where we got into the carriage. There is a curious old tower opposite the church, which was part of the Bishop's Palace. The people were very enthusiastic, and an old fish- wife, with her creel on her back, bare legs and feet, and very short petticoat (we met many such about Dimrobin), began waving a handkerchief, and almost dancing, near the end of the place as we drove away. Brown motioned to her to come on, and threw her something, which the poor old thing ran to pick up. We stopped wheui we had regained the wood to take our tea and coffee, and ■a -i a ^ ( 207 ) were joined by the Duke's drag just as wc liad finished. We chano^cd our road, ^olng by Enibo and Skclbo, the model farm of the late Duke, and drove up to Cambusniore, the pretty little cottage of Mr. and Mrs. Batcson. There is a small garden in front. The two children got out, and so did all the others, but I begged to remain in the carriage, as I was tired. However, I after- wards got out ; and certainly the litUe cottage is most charmingly fitted up with deer's heads, pretty prints, and pretty things of all kinds. They asked me to write my name in a book, which I did, sittlnij hi the carrias^e. From here we drove back again the same way ; and the evening was very fine, and the sky beautiful, red and every possible bright colour. As we drove along, before reaching Canibttsmore we saw the high land of Cailhness, tx. good way beyond Brora. Back by seven. Dined with the two children in my own room, and then went for a short while into the drawing-room ; then wrote, and at half-past eleven left Dtinrobin, with the two children and Annie, in the Duke's carriage, the Duke (in the kilt) helping us in, ft}-- # « 11, ii ■' I ,'i I >= :i'\ cS- ~-{h ( 208 ) and then walking, with MacAlister after him, up the approach, straight to the private station, which is about five hundred yards from the house. There were many people out, and the whole v/as brilliantly illuminated by Egyptian and red and blue lights. At the station all the ladies and rcntlemen were assembled, and I wished them all good-bye, and then got into the train, having kissed Annie, and Constance, and the two girls, and shaken hands with the Duke, who, as well as the Duchess, had been most kind. It was half- past twelve before I lay down. Beatrice did so sooner. ' Thursday y September 12. I had not slept much, but the journey was very quiet. At eight we were at Ballater. A splendid morning. We drove off at once, Beatrice, Leopold, and I in one carriage, and reached dear Balmoral safely at a quarter to nine a.m. Felt as though all had been a dream, and that it was hardly possible we should have been only last nieht at Dunrobin^ and dined there. ta ^ [S- ^ ( 209 ) Dr.. Norman Macleod. \j\Tarchy 1873. — I am anxious to put on record all my recollections of my dear and valued friend Dr. Norman Macleod, who has been taken from us, and whose loss is more deeply felt every day. I have therefore made the following extracts from my journal since the year i86r, when my heavy misfortune brought me into very close con- tact with him.] Bahnoraly Sunday, May ii, 1862. Hurried to be ready for the service which Dr. Macleod was kindly going to perform. And a little before ten I went down with Lenchen and Affie (Alice bemg still in bed unwell) to the dining- room, in which I had not yet been. The ladies and gentlemen were seated behind me, the ser- vants, including Grant and some of the other •a ■ff I I \ 1 f- '"ft I ( 2IO ) Highlanders, opposite. And never was service more beautifully, touchingly, simply, and tenderly performed. There was the opening prayer, then the reading from Scripture, which was most beautifully selected as follows : the twenty-third chapter of Job, the forty-second Psalm, the four- teenth chapter of St. John, some of the first verges, and then from the twenty-third verse to the end, and the seventh chapter of Revelations to the end. All so applicable. After this came another prayer, and then the sermon, entirely extempore, taken from the twelfth chapter of the Epistle to the Hebrews to the thirteenth verse, also alluding to the tenth chapter, and occasionally turning to the Corinthians. The sermon was admirable, all upon affliction, God's love, our Saviour's sufferings, which God would not spare Him, the blessedness of suffering in bringing us nearer to our eternal home, where we should all be together, and where our dear ones were gone on before us. He con- cluded with another prayer, in which he prayed most touchingly for me. The children and I were much affected on coming upstairs. tg- ■EP ft a- Ti'tl I -mWiOii tl>»! •'■"-Tl-t^t-JC^ { 2" ) ■a liTonday, May 12. On coming home In the afternoon, Dr. Macleod came to see me, and was so clever, agreeable, kind and good. We talked of ocar Albert's illness, his readiness to go hence at all times, with which Dr. Macleod was much struck, and said what a beauti- ful state of mind he must always have been in — how unselfish — how ready to do whatever was necessary ; and I exemplified this by describing his cheerful- ness in giving up all he liked and enjoyed, and being just as cheerful when he changed to other circumstances, looking at the bright and interest- ing side of them ; like, for Instance, going from here to Windsor and from Windsor to London^ leaving his own dear home, etc., and yet being always cheerful, which was the reverse with me. He spoke of the blessing of living on with those who were gone on before. An old woman, he said, whom he knew, had lost her husband and several of her children, and had had many sor- rows, and he asked her how she had been able to bear them, and she answered : " Ah ! when he went awa' it made a great hole, and all the others 1% \ i»i if ;.'l' ^A ■EP ^ I 9 --4I1 I ill ;l i! i [& ( 212 ) went thi jugh it." * And so it is, most toiichlnqly and truly expressed, and so it will ever be with me. Balmoral, Sunday, August 24, 1862. At ten service was performed by Dr, Macleod downstairs, again very beautifully. His selections were very good : the hundred and third Psalm, part of the eleventh chapter of Isaiah, and then before his sermon, the fourth chapter of Philip- pians, sixth verse, which was the text : *' Be care- ful for nothing ; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God," and part of the eleventh chapter of St. Luke, fifth verse : " Which of you shall have a friend, and shall go unto him at midnight, and shall say unto him. Friend, lend me three loaves ? " As usual, it made a deep impression. After dinner, in the evening, I went over to * I since heat that this poor woman was not personally known to Dr. Macleod, but that her remark was related to him by Dr. Black, his predecessor in the Barony Parish, Glasgow. Her words were : " When he was ta'en^ it made sic' a hole in my heart that a' other sorrows gang lichtly through." ^■ a # a lingly with ^62. acleod ictions Psalm, \ then PhiUp- t care- er and quests )f the AHiich him riend, 1 deep /er to known by Dr. Her ; in my o -ff a ( 213 ) Mrs. Briicc's room, and there Dr. Macleod joined us, and was so kind, so comforting, and so cheering. He expressed great admiration of my dearest Albert's statue (the cast of which was standmg in the vestibule below). His eyes were full of tears, and he said his loss was felt more and more. I showed him a drawing of the mausoleum, and he said, " Oh ! /le is not there," wliich is so true ; and again, when admiring the photograph of the reclining statue by Marochetti, he added, " But I think /le is more like the statue below,'" which is a beautiful and a true idea. He looks so truly at the reality of the next life. Sunday, 3 fay 2., 1863. My poor birthday ! At a quarter past ten service was performed by Dr. Macleod. All the children but Baby there. He read the ninetieth and hundred and third Psalms ; part of the twenty-fourth chapter of St. Matthew, ninth verse: *' All hail." His sermon very fine, but he read it, not having had time to prepare one by thinking the subject over, or even by the help of mere notes. I saw him in the evening, and he was most kind and sympathising. a m 1 ■ if. I m \\ c: ^ ^«; U:'K ! I ^'1! ii I ■ I I 1 1 ' I 't :iti a tj ( 2'4 ) Sunday, October <^, 1864. At four, went to kirk with Lenchen and Augusta Stanley. Dr. Macleod performed the service admirably, and gave us a very striking ser- mon, all extempore, and appealing very strongly to the people's feelings. Saw good Dr. Macleod aftervvards, and was much upset in talking to liim of my sorrows, anxieties, and overwhelming cares ; and he was so kind and sympathising, so encouraging and full of that faith and Jiope which alone can comfort and sustain the broken heart. In his sermon he spoke of there being peace with- out happiness^ and happiness without peace, which is so true. Balmoraly Sunday, Jjine 11, 1865. At twelve, went (a great effort) to the kirk with the girls and the Duchess of Athole. I had only been once at the end of our stay last year in October, in the afternoon, and it made me very ner- -a # c& ^ ( 215 ) vous. Still, as no one expected me to go, it was better so. Dr. Macleod performed the service most impressively. His sermon was from i Thessa- lonians iv. lo. No one reads the Bible better than he does, and his prayers were most beautiful. In the one for me, which he always words so expres- sively and touchingly, he prayed for Alix and her dear babe very beautifully. The singing and the whole service brought tears to my eyes. I felt so ^lone ! All reminded me of former blessed- ness. , Balmoral ^ Saturday, October 14, 1865. After dinner Dr. Macleod gave us a long account of that dreadful Dr Pritchard,* and his interviews with him. Never in his life had he seen anything so dreadful as this man's character and his wontlerful untruthfulness. Dr. Macleod afterwards came upstairs, and read to Lenchen and me out of Burns most beautifully. * He had poisoned his wife and his wife's mother, and Dr. Macleod attended him in prison. a -EP itj % i . : % ifl ■.' ! ( - ;' 1) i '1 'M V at- 111 m •ff It' i i:ir I) r ^. yi .'I fl ( 216 ) Sunday, October 15, 1865. At twelve we went to the kirk, where dear Dr. IMacleod performed the service more beauti- fully than I evei heard it. The sermon was touchiiitr, and most strikino- and useful. It touched and struck all. The text was from Genesis iii. 13: "And the Lord God said unto the woman, What is this that thou hast done 1 " And then he showed how we atl had a secret life which no one knew but God, and showed the friofhtful danofer of livinof a life of deceotion till you deceived yourself, and no longer knew wrong from right. I wish I could repeat all he said, but it was admirable. Then in his beautiful prayers he brought in a most touching allusion to Lord Palmerston,''^ and prayed for him. • He was dying, and expired on October 18. 4-.- -a -ff I t cS- ^ ( 217 ) BalmoraU Siinday, Jitne 17, 1866. We went at twelve to the kirk, and Dr. Mac- Icod gave us a beautiful sermon from St. Mark ix. 38, etc. It was very fine, so large-minded iX.\\<\ charitable, much against party spirit and want of charity, and showed hov; thoroughly charity, in its highest form, existed in our Saviour. , .-f'*The Duchess of Atholeand Dr. Macleod dined with m^. He was so amiable, and full oi sympathy ; he also suffers much from constant work and worry, and must go abroad for relaxa- tion. Told him how much I required it, and that I came here for it, and had had a hard fight for it. He said he quite felt this, and entreated me — " as you work for us" — always to insist upon coming here. I said my dearest Albert had injured him- self by never giving himself enough rest ; and we spoke of the absolute necessity of complete relaxation occasionally, and of the comfort of it. a tf •i ii i'li r \y I . a ^ V 218 ) Balmoral, Sunday, September 16, 1866. The church was very full and the atmosphere very close. Dr. Macleod preached admirably, especially the latter part of the sermon, when he preached extempore, and spoke of our responsi- bilities which made us work out our salvation. God wished us all to be saved, but we must work that out ourselves. And we might by our own fault not be saved. The first part was read, he having told me the night before that he felt nervous, and must redd it. Balmoral^ Tkur'sday, September 20, 1867. Good Dr. Macleod (who arrived yesterday, for two nights) came to talk to me for some little time while I was sitting out. He spoke most kindly, and said enough to show how shocked he was at my many worries, but said also that he was convinced of the great loyalty of the nation, and that I should take courage. ■E? \ a- ^ -a ( 219 ) On the next day, the 21st, he came to take leave of me, as he was going to India, sent by tlie General Assembly to look after the missions. He is only going for six months ; still, his life is so valuable that it is a great risk. He was much affected in taking leave of me, and said, " If I should not return, I pray God to carry your Majesty through all your trials." Balmoraly Saturday y October 10, 1868. Mr. Van de Weyer and good Dr. Macleod, who is looking ill, and rather broken, and with a long beard, dined with us.* Sunday y October 1 1 . All to kirk at twelve. Christian and Franz f sat in the Abergcldie pew. Dr. Macleod per- formed the service, and I never heard a fin r * He had only lately returned from India, t The Prince and Princess Christian of Schlcswig-Holstein and the Prince and Princess of Teck were on a visit. ff s\ I .1 ■ .ft Ml ii % . li III i fl ( 220 ) sermon, or more touching prayer for me. The text, St. Luke ix. 33 : '• Peter said unto Jesus, Master, it is good for us to be here . . . not knowing what he said." Saw Dr. Macleod, who talked, as also last nic;ht, of India, and of the disturbance in the Church. > * Balmoral, Sunday, Jtme 6, 1 869. To kirk with Louise, Leopold, Baby (Beatrice), and Christian. Dr. Macleod (who arrived last night) performed the service, and admirabh', speaking so much to the heart. The prayers were beautiful, and so was the sermon. It was so full of truth and simple good advice, telling us to act according to the spirit of what is told us, and according to what we felt was right. The text from I Peter iv. 21. Afterwards saw dear Dr. Macleod, whom I find a good deal altered and aged. He is Moderator of the General Assembly for this year, and spoke with much pleasure of the unanimity prevailing, and of the good feeling shown towards him ; and regretted much this Irish Church Bill. t. -a ff cfl- ^ ( 221 ) Balmoral, Sunday, October 3, 1869. At twelve, went with our children to the kirk. Dr. Macleod preached a fine sermon, and gave us tvyo beautiful prayers as usual. The text was from Matthew xxvi. 30. I saw Dr. Macleod before dinner. He is o^reatly alarmed for the Established Church of Scotland, as he fears that an attempt will be made to pull that down also ; though, thank God, there is no difference of form or doctrine there, and were this to happen, the Free Church and United Pres- byterians, with the present Established Church, would become one very strong Protestant body. I also asked him about Lord Lome, and he said he had a very high opinion of him ; that he had long known him, and had prepared him for con- firmation, that he thought very highly of him, and had a great respect for him, and that he had fine, noble, elevated feelings. a 4 iii< : t ' ■;! ■? \ \- i , ■j ; t i ill I V ' i 1 ji : kt' '; If ■I a tfi- ill til II I ■i« I m 1 1 ( 222 ) Sunday^ October 2, 1870. A very fine morning after a frost. The sun intensely hot. Dear Leopold breakfasted with us out of doors. Sat out for a short while. To the kirk at twelve. It was not so stifling. Dr. Mac- leod gave us such a splendid sermon on the war, and without mentioning France, he said enough to make every one understand what was meant (when he pointed out how God would punish wickedness, and vanity, and sensuality ; and the chapters he read from Isaiah xxviii., and from Ezekiel, Amos, and one of the Psalms, were really quite wonderful for the way in which they seemed to describe France). It was all admirable and heart-stirring. Then the prayers were beau- tiful in which he spoke of the sick, the dying, the wounded, the battlefield, and my sons-in-law and daughters. We all came back deeply impressed. ■a J c6- •-■ ^ ( 223 ) Monday, October 3. Dr. Maclcod came to wish me good-bye. He yesterday again told me what a very high opinion he had of Lord Lome, how good, excellent, and superior he thought him in every way, and the whole family so good. p Balmoral^ yune — , 187 1. Dear Dr. Macleod was unable to come during my present stay here, having been unwell in the winter. He has gone abroad to Ems, Balmoral, Sunday, November 5, 1871. At a little before twelve, went to kirk with Baby and Janle Ely, for the first time after a very severe illness — a great pleasure to me who am so fond of going to the dear little church here. Brown helped me up and down the steep stair- case, but I found no great difficulty. Dr. Mac- ■a ff '■ (1 ; •.1 i I ! ■ li '^ V ^ 1 ^^ i 1 ■ , c& ^ ( 224 ) leod (who arrived yesterday evening at the Castle) performed the service, which he made purposely rather short for me. He gave us a beautiful sermon, the text from St. Matthew vi. 9 : " Our Father, who art in heaven ; " and he preached upon the great importance, as well as comfort, of our looking on God as a Father, and not as a judge or " magistrate," to use a homely phrase. He also gave an admirable explanation of the Sacrament, which he announced was to be given next Sunday, explaining that it was not a miracle, which people often consider it to be. Back by a quarter-past one, much edified. He came to see me before dinner. Monday, November ^, 1871. Had a long and satisfactory talk with Dr. Mac- leod after luncheon to-day again. ft ■ff a- ^ ( 225 ) Balmoral, Sunday, May 26, 1872. To kirk at twelve, with Baby and the ladies, etc. Dr. Macleod preached a very fine ser- mon, full of love and warm feeling, upon future life and hope. The text was from St. Matthew V. 9, " Thy kingdom come." But I was grieved to see him looking ill. After luncheon saw good Dr. Macleod, who was very depressed and looking very ill, and will- ingly sat down at my request. He said he was quite broken down from hard work, and would have to give up his house in Glasgow (where he has not a moment's rest), and his Indian mission work, etc. He feels all this much, but it is unavoid- able. He did too much. He has never recovered from the effects of his visit to India. He is, however, golnc^ to America for some months, and has refused everything in the way of preaching and lectures. He talked much of a future life, and his certainty of there being a continuation there of God's educa- tional purposes, which had commenced in this world, and would work on towards the final triumph of fr ood over evil, and the extinction of sin. i r if : 1^1 tl i I ;!i ■( '^ 'h 1; ^ a a- a ( 226 ) Balmoral, Monday, May 27, 1872. Saw and wished good Dr. Macleod good-bye, widi real regret and anxiety. Towards the end of dinner, yesterday, he cheered up, having hardly talked at all during the course of it. Balmoral y Sunday, June 16, 1872. We had come home at five minutes past eight ; I had wished Brown good-night, and was just going to my dressing-room, when he asked to come in again and say a few words to me. He came in, and said, very kindly, that he had seen Colonel Ponsonby, and that there was rather bad news of Dr. Macleod, who was very ill, in fact that they were afraid he was dead I Oh ! what a blow ! How dreadful to lose that dear, kind, loving, large-hearted friend ! My tears flowed fast, but I checked them as much as I could, and thanked good Brown for the very kind vvay he broke this painful and most unexpected news to "B [fl- ( 227 ) me. I sent for and told Leopold, who was quite stumped by it, and all my maids. Every one was most deeply grieved — the Duchess of A thole, Janie Ely, Miss MacGregor, Colonel Ponsonby, and Dr. Taylor, who was so overcome as hardly for some time to be able to speak. The loss, he and we all felt, was quite irreparable. Dr. Taylor knew (which I did not) that he had been very ill for a week, and that he might die at any moment, and that the long and most admirable speech which he made in the Assembly had been far too much for him. That was on the 30th. Still we all hoped that rest would have restored him. How thankful I felt that I had seen him so lately ! When the Duchess came upstairs, we could speak of litde else. After she left, and I was alone, I cried very bitterly, for this is a terrible loss to me. Monday, J tine 17. When I awoke the sad truth flashed upon me, which is doubly painful, as one is unaware of the reality on first waking. After breakfast, when I thought of my dear friend Dr. Macleod, and all he had been to me — ctu Q» ft -^ f\ 1 1 K; ? >i I 11 \:\ i' , [& a ( 228 ) how in 1862-63-64 he had cheered, and com- forted, and encouraged me — how he had ever sympathised with me, and how much I always looked forward to the few occasions I had of seeing him when we went to Balmoral, and that this too, like so many other comforts and helps, was for ever gone — I burst out crying. Yesterday evening we heard by telegraph from Mr. Donald Macleod (for the fir<:t news came from the Glascrow telegraph clerk to Warren *) that his dear brother had died at twelve that morning. I telegraphed to all my children, and could think of nothing else. I try to dwell on all he said, for there was no one to whom in doubts and anxieties on religion I looked up with more trust and confidence, and no one ever reassured and comforted me more about my children. I re- member that he expressed deep satisfaction at hearing such good accounts of them. . . . And then he seemed so full of trust and gratitude to God. He wrote a beautiful letter to Janie Ely on his birthday (June 3), in answer to my in- quiries after him, of which I annex the copy. His words seemed almost prophetic! • My (wn telegraph clerk. ^- ff -a to in- l>py- --ff a- ( 229 ) -a 4 ymte I. 1872. Dear Lady Ely, — Whether it is that my head is empty or my heart full, or that both conditions are realised in my experience, the fact, however, is that I cannot express myself as I feel in replying to your Ladyship's kind — far too kind — note, which I received when in the whirl- wind or miasma of Assembly business. Thanks deep and true to you, and to my Sovereign Lady, for thinking of me. I spoke for nearly two hours in the Assembly, which did me no good, nor, I fear, to any other. I was also to preach yesterday. As I have nice summer quarters, I much hope to recruit, so as to cast off this dull, hopeless sort of feeling. I ought to be a happy, thankful man to-day. I s.m to-day sixty, and round my table will meet my mother, my wife, and all my nine children, six brothers, sisters, and two aunts — one eighty-nine, the other seventy-six ; and all these are a source of joy and thanksgiving ! Why such mercies to me, and such sufferings as I often see sent to the rest on earth } God alone knows ! 1 don't see how He always acts as a wise, loving, and impartial Father to all His children. What we know not now, we shall know hereafter. Let us trust when we cannot trace. God bless the Queen for all her unwearied goodness ! I admire her as a woman, love her as a friend, and reverence her as a Queen ; and you know that what I say I feel. Her courage, patience, and endurance are marvellous to me. (Signed) N. I\Iacl::ol. ^ % i >.c. ■ ''J • ; cfi- ft ( 2;?o ) I 1 1 March 1873. Dear Dr. Macleod likewise came to Balmoral, and preaciied there, on the following occasions : October 11, 1863, May 24, 1864 (my birthday, after his visit to the Holy Land\o\\ May 27, 1867, and on May v. ^ '9. When I last ^•.iw him I was greatly distressed at his depression and nlness, and instead of my looking to him to cheer and encourage vie, I tried to cheer ////;/. He said he had been ordered to give up all work, and to give up his house at Glasgotv, merely continuing to preach at the Parony CJmrch ; and that then they gave him hopes of a recovery, but it was not at all certain. He must give up the Indian Mission, which was a great sorrow to him ; and he meant to take the opportunity of resigning it in person, to say what he feit so strongly, though others might not be pleased. He meant to go to America in August, merely to recruit his health and strength ; and he had refused every invitation for dinners, or to lecture or preach. He had not much confidence, he said, in his recovery, but he might be wrong. All was in God's hands. " It is the nature of B- -rt a ( 2jl ) IUgblanders to despond when they arc ill," he added. He hoped God would allow him to live a few years linger, for his children, and to be ^ble to go on with " Good Words." Me dwelt then, as always, on the love and goodness of God, and on his conviction that God would give us, in another life, the means to perfect ourselves and to improve gradually. No one ever felt so convinced, and so anxious as he to convince others, that God was a loving Fat-..i, who wished all to come to Him, and to pr icL )f a living personal Saviour, One who lov .1 l , as a brother and a friend, to whom all could and should come with trust and confidence. N ^ne ever raised and strengthened one's faith more than Dr. Mac- leod. His own faith was so strong, his heart so large, tjiat all — high and low, weak and strong, the erring and the good- — could alike find sym- pathy, help, and consolation from him. How I loved to talk to him, to ask his advice, to speak to him of my sorrows, m) anxieties ! But, alas ! how impossible I feel it to be to give any adequate idea of the character of this good and distinguished man ! So much depended on his personal charm of manner, so warm, genial. ■a ^1 'ii :i- M n" it. Ii ■tt ■ff t i i'^^^il i i a- -a ( 232 ) V ,: and hearty, overflowing with kindness and the love of human nature ; and so much depended on himself, on knowing" and living with him, that no one who did not do so can truly portray him. And, indeed, how can any one, alas, who has not known or seen a person, ever imagine from de- scription what he is really like ? He had the (greatest admiration for the beauties of nature, and was most enthusiastic about the beautiful wild scenery of his dear country, which he loved intensely and passionately. When I said to him, on his last visit, that I was going to take some mineral waters when I went south, he pointed to the lovely view from the windows, looking up the glen of the Dee, and said : " The fine air in these hills, and the quiet here, will do your Majesty much more good than all the w^aters." His wife, he said, had urged him to come, though he felt so ill. " It always does you good to go to Balmoral!' she told him. He admired and loved the national music of his country, and wrote the following description of it, most kindly, as a preface to a book of Pipe Music published by my head piper, William Ross : — ^ ff a- — ■ — I* ■ ^ ( 233 ) a THE BAGPIPE AND ITS MUSIC. By the Rev. Dr. Norman Macleod. The music of the Highlands is the pibroch of the great war-pipe, witli its fluttering pennons, fingered by a genuine Celt, in full Highland dress, as he slowly paces a baronial hall, or amidst the wild scenery of his native mountains. The bagpipe is the instrument best adapted for summoning the clans from the far-off glens to rally round the standard of their chiefs, or for leading a High- land regiment to the attack amidst the roar of battle. The pibroch is also constructed to express a welcome to the chief on his return to his clan, and to wail out a lament for him as he is borne by his people to the old burial-place in the glen or in the sainted Isle of Graves. To those who understand its carefully composed music there is a pathos and depth of feeling suggested by it which a Highlander alone can fully sympathise with ; associated by him as it always is with the most touching memories of his home and country ; recalling the faces and forms of the departed ; spreading forth before his inward eye panoramas of mountain, loch, and glen, and reviving impressions of his early and happiest years. And thus, if it excites the stranger to laughter, it excites the Highlander to tears, as no other music can do, in spite of the most refined culture of his after life. It is thus, too, that what appears to be only a tedious and unmeaning monotony in the music of the genuine pibroch, is not so lo one under the magic influence of -ff '1,1 i if . V; ■ U j! f, a ( VA ) Highland as?>oclation.s. Tlicrc is, indeed, in every pibroch a certain monotony of sorrow. It pervades zven the " welcome," as if the younc^ chief who arrives recalls the memory of the old chief who has departed. In the " lament " we naturally expect this sadness; but even in the " summons to battle," with all its fire and energy, it cannot conceal what it seems alrcad)' to anticipate, sorrow for the slain. In the very reduplication of its hurried notes, and in the repetition of its one idea, there are expressions of vehement passion and of grief — "the joy of grief," as Ossian terms it, which loves to brood upon its own loss, and ever repeats the one ilcsolate thought which fills the heart, and which in the end again breaks forth into the long and loud agonising cry with which it began. All this will no doubt seem both meaningless and extravagant to many, but it is never- theless a deliberately expressed conviction. The characteristic poetry of the llii^hlands is Ossian, its music the pibroch ; and these two voices embody the spirit and sing the praises of " Tir na'm Beann, na'n Gleann's na Gaisgeach " (" the land of the moun tains, the glens, and the heroes "), I said I was sure he would rejoice to tliiiik that it was a Highlander who had seized O'Connor,* and he replied, " I was deeply thankful to hear it." * The young man who rushed up to my carriage with a peti- tion and a pistol in Buckingham Palace Garden on February 29, 1872, and was seized by Brown. -a q^ ■ff [S-^- ^ ( 235 ) He possessed a keen sense of wit and great a|)prcciation of humour, and had a wonderful power of narrating anecdotes. He had hkewisc a marvellous power of winning people of all kinds, and of sympathising with the highest and with the humblest, and of soothing and comforting the sick, the. dying, the afHicted, the erring and the doubt- ing. A friend of mine told me that if she were in great trouble, or sorrow, or anxiety, Dr. Norman Macleod was the person she would wish to go to! And so it was! One felt one's troubles, weaknesses, and sorrows would all be lovingly listened to, sympathised with, and entered into. I detected a sign of illness in dear Dr. Mac- leod's accepting, contrary to his ordinary usage, my invitation to him to sit down, saying he could not stand well ; and I afterwards heard he had com- plained greatly of fatigue in walking back from the kirk. I said I feared India had done him harm. He admitted it, but said, ** I don't recrret it." I expressed an earnest hope that he would be very careful of himself, and that on his return at the end of October he would take Balmoral on his vay. Wlien I wished him good-bye and shook hands a 4 I ' 1 1 .i 1 I- I I I n: I i n i 1 # ( 236 ) With him, he said, " God bless your Majesty," and the tears were in his eyes. Only then did the thought suddenly flash upon me, as I closed the door of my room, that I mii^^ht never see this dear friend again, and it nearly overcame me. But this thought passed, and never did I think, that not quite three weeks after, his noble, pure spirit would be with the God and Saviour he loved and served so well ! I have since heard t' '. - ' .11 ^;li !:i I'lii i ur- G t& ( 238 ) Visit to Inverlochy, 1873. Tuesday^ September 9, 1873. Got up at ten minutes to seven, imd breakfasted with Beatrice at twenty minutes past seven. The morning tvas splendid. At five minutes past eight I left Balmoral with Beatrice and Jane Churchill in the landau and four (Brown on the rumble) for Ballaler, whither General Ponsonby and Dr. Fox had preceded us. We had our own comfortable train ; Jane Churchill came with us. Emilie Dittweiler, Annie Macdonald, Morgan, and Maxtead (Jane's maid) went in the dresser's compartment, and Francie with dear Noble,* with Brown next to me. After crossing the Bridge of Dun, where we were at half-past eleven, we had some cold luncheon, and by a quarter to one we were at Stanley Jtinction^ where we left the * Another favourite and splendid collie. a ■ff cS^ -4=; ( 239 ) main line from Aberdeen to the south, and turned into the Highland Railway. Here, alas! the distance became indistinct, the sky grey, and we began fearing for the afternoon. At one we passed the really beautiful valley of Diinkcid, catching a glimpse of the cathedral and the lovely scenery around, 'which interested Beatrice very much, and made me think of my pleasant visits and excursions thence ; then passed opposite St. Co lines, the Duchess's farm, by Dalo^uise, and saw the large Celtic cross at Logierait, put up to the late Duke of Athole; \\\itVi. Pitlochry \ after which we passed through the magnificent Pass of KilliekraiiJcie, which we just skirted in our long drive by Loch Tay and Loch Tuvnncl, in 1866. The dull leaden sky which overhung Dnrkeld continued, and soon a white veil began to cover the hills, and slight rain came down. We passed close by Blair, which reminded me much of my sad visit there in 1863, when I came by this same line to visit the late Duke ; and I could now see the great improvements made at the Castle. From here the railway (running almost parallel with the road by which lue went so happily from DalioJiinnu the reverse way in 1S61) passes '&- -ff I % ■\ A \ u ! I i f cf3- — HI ( 240 ) Dulnaspidal Station — a very lonely spot — then up Drumouchter, with Loch Garry and Loch Ericht, fine and wild, but terribly desolate and devoid of woods and habitations, and so veiled by mist and now beating rain as to be seen to but very little advantage. Next comes Dahvhinnie Station, near the inn where we slept in i86r, having ridden over from Balmoral to Glen Fishie, and thence down by Newton More ; consequently, the dis- tance across the hill is comparatively nothing, though, to avoid posting in uncertain weather, we had to come all this way round. At thirty-five minutes past two we reachcvl Ki?ij^tissie. The station was decorated with flowers, heatlier, and flacfs, and the Master of Lovat (now Lord Lieu- tenant of Inverness-shire) and Cluny Macphcrson (both of course in kilts) were there. We waited til all our things were put into our carriage, and then got out, in heavy rain at that moment. We three went in the sociable. General Ponsonby and Brown on the box, Dr. Fox and my maids in the waggonette, the other maids and Francie with the dog and the remainder following in two other carriages. We passed through the village of Kingussicy where there were two triumphal t^..- % Ml ■ff a-- ^ { =4' ) arches and decorations, and some of Cliiny's men drawn up, and then turned sharp to the Iv.h up amongst the hills, through the very poor long vil- lage of Ncwto7i More (which Annie Macdonald, whose late husband came from there, had never seen, but which ee'^ had driven through in 1861), and on amongst desolate, wild, heathery moors. The road skirts the Spcy, which meanders through a rich green valley, hills rising grandly in the distance and on either side. We passed the rock of Craig Dhu, and a castle amongst trees, where there was an arch, and the owner and his family standing near it, and where a nosegay v/as pre- sented to me. Next we came to Cluny Castle, at. the gate of which stood Mrs. Macpherson with her family. We stopped after we had gone past, and she came and presented me with a nosegay. From here the road was known to me, if I can call going once to see it in I047 knowing it. \/ery few inhabitants, and not one village after Ncivton More, only miserable littl jottages and farmhouses, with a few people, a ;'ery friendly, scattered about here and there We changed horses first at Laggaii Bridge, h .ig crossed the -Spey over a large stone bridge, which I well a 4:3 Iff •M ■rl| I \\\ I 'j^ M,! j ,i ',, ■^ III 1' 1 II i » % m I I i j- 1 t tfl ( 242 ) remember ; it is near Strathmashie. Here we stopped a few minutes ; ar.d a little girl presented me with a nosegay, and the innkeeper gave Brown a bottle with some wine and a orJass. We were preceded the whole way by the postmaster of Banavie, who supplied the horses ; he was called McGregor, and wore a kilt. We had only a pair of horses all along and after the first stage — excellent ones. The roads admirable — hardly any hills, though we drove through such a hilly, wild country. The rain had ceased, and only occa- sional showers came on, which did not prevent our seeing the very grand scenery, with the high finely pointed and serrated mountains, as we drove along. Shortly after changing horses we left the river and came to the beautiful Lock Laggan, seven miles in length, along which the drive goes under birch, mountain-ash laden with bright berries, oak, alders, in profusion, and is really beautiful. I was quite pleased to see the loch again after twenty-five years — recognised it and admired its beauty, with the wooded promon- tories, its litde bays, and its two little islands, its feiry (the only communication to the other side), and the noble hills, the two Ben Alders, ffl-- ft -ff &- "*l!] ^ ( 243 ) We stopped, soon after passing the ferry, In a very secluded spot at five, and had our (made) tea in the carriage, wlilch was very refreshing. We at length came opposite Ardverikie, which I so well remember, recalling and relating, as we now drove along, many of the incidents of our month's stay there, which was as wet as this day. Sir John Ramsden, who has bought the property, was standing with some other people by the roadside. At th^ •N? :\ \ 0^ ^V > 33 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY. 14580 (716) 872-4503 V a ij ( 24S ) turned another way, and Brown said nearly put us into a ditch ! but we soon got all ri^^ht a;>;ain, having to go on a little way to turn. We went along the upper part of Lcy/i Eil, the sea loch, on wlu'ch Fort Williavi stands It is very narrow at first, and then widens out into a large broad loch as you approach the head of it, bej'ond which is the very fine range of the Moidart Hills, high and very serrated and bold. These are close to Glen Finnan. The road is excellent and not hilly, though it skirts the hills the whole time and is very winding, with much w'ood, so that you drive a good deal under trees, ash, oak, alder, and the mountain ash which is now laden with red berries. The brio^ht heather, orrowinor in tufts of the richest colour mixed with a great deal of high tall bracken which is beginning to turn, has a lovely effect. Here and there were some very poor little huts, most Tiiiserable, of stone, wretchedly thatched with moss and grass, and weeds growing on the roofs, very dirty and neglected-looking, the litde fields full of weeds choking the corn, and neglected bits of garden, bushes and brambles growing into the very window ; and yet generally the people who looked most poor had a cow ! -ub -I? [& ""Sj ( 249 ) We passed Fassifcrn, which belonged to the father of the Colonel Cameron killed at Qua Ire Hj'aSy now merely a farmhouse, and surrounded by fine trees. 1 thnik the drive to near the head of the loch must have been nearly ten miles! It was a beautiful drive, in spite of the frequent very heavy showers of rain. We came home at twenty minutes to eight. Good accounts of Leopold, but the weather has been had. Dined as yesterday Played on the piano with Beatrice in the drawing-room, and then we went upstairs. Thursday, September 11. A pouring wet morning after a pouring wet night. Could not go out all the morning, h, however, cleared up in the aftenioon, and became very bright and fine. Just as we decided to go out at a quarter past four, it began raining again ; however, as I left with Beatrice and jane in the sociable, it cleared, and was very fine for some time. We drove out the way we came on Tues- day as far as Speaii Bridge, and then turned sharp to the left along the Spean, under fine trees which abound in the valleys, and in view of scattered [&-■ tf ill 'A '■ \n •St if .1 < NVM 'I i t t « -; f in. I *^^^ ■4 *. 'II ' ''I /'{ 'i Mi.. t ! ; i I, li^; H r~ I ii t& ^ •* ' '- ■' " • { *54 ) (as we went up) is the deer forest ; to the right he has sheep. Both sides are beautifully wooded all along^ the lower part of the fine hills which rise on either side, and the trees are all oaks, which Cameron of Lochiel said were the " weed of the country," and all natural — none were planted. A good many grow up all the hollows and fissures of the hills and rocks. Right ahead, where we turned, was seen a fine conical-shaped hill called Scotir- na-naij and to the left Glenmally, to the nordi Muir Logan, and Gitisach and Gerarnan on either side. Before we c^ime to the turning we three had our tea, which was very refreshing. I tried to sketch a little, but the sun shone so strongly that I could not do much. Mr. Cameron, who was with Lord Elgin in China, came and explained everything, and talked very pleasantly. His father had to let this beau- tiful place, and Lord Malmesbury had it for fifteen years. The Cannings used to go there, and I often heard Lady Canning speak of its beauties, and saw many pretty sketches which she made there. Thirteen years ago his father died, and he has lived there ever since. Alfred was there in i S63. ft -EP a -a ( '255 ) It was, as General Ponsonbv observed after- wards, a striking scene. " There was Lochiel," as he said, '* whose grcat-grand-uncle had been the real moving cause of the rising of 1745 — for without him Prince Charles would not have made the attempt — showing your Majesty (whose great- great-grandfather he had striven to dethrone) the scenes made historical by Prince Charlie's wan- derings. It was a scene one could not look on unmoved." Yes ; and / feel a sort of reverence in ijoinof over these scenes in this most beautiful country, which I am proud to call my own, where there was such devoted loyalty to the family of my ancestors — for Stuart blood is in my veins, and I am 7WW their representative, and the people are as devoted and loyal to me as they were to that unhappy race. We landed at the little pier, but walked over the small bridges (the carriages following) — on which a piper was playing — a few hundred yards to a gate (on the side opposite to that by which we came), where we got into the carriages rig:un. We drove through a beautiful road called the Dark Mile— ddivk from the number of very fine ■ff i Ij if ^: ' II 14 I > k i H f 1 I I I n r a ft ( 256 ) trees which overhanc^ it, while on the left it Is overshadowed by beetling rocks with a rich tangled undern^rowth of bracken and heather, etc. The heather grows very richly and fully in these parts, and in thick tufts. We saw here the cave in which Prince Charles Edward was hid for a week. We came out of this road at the end of Loch LocJiy, which looked lovely in the setting sun, and drove along the water's edge till nearly where we joined the road by which we had come. It is all Lochiel's for a long way — a splendid possession. And now came the fmest scene of all — Ben Nevis and its surrounding high hills, and the others in the direction of Loch I^aggan, all pink and glowing in that lovely after-glow [A/pen- gliiheii), which you see in the Alps. It v/as glorious. It grew fainter and fainter till '.he hills became blue and then grey, and at last it became almost quite dark before we reached Banavie, and we only got home at a quarter-past eight. As we drove out I sketched Ben Nevis from the carriage. Quantities of letters. The post comes in after eight and goes out at ten, which is v.ery in- convenient. Our usual little dinner only, about nine. 6- ►4 iS- ( 257 ) SaUirday\ September 13. Another splendid morning, of which we were very glad, as we meant to go to Glencoc, which was the principal object of our coming here. Our nice little breakfast as usual. Sketching. At eleven we started, just as yesterday, Francie Clark* and Cannon going on the box of the second carriage. We drove through Fort William, on as we did yesterday morning by Achiiitee, and down the eastern side of Loch Eil, which was beautifully lit, the distant hills intensely blue. The cottages along the roadside here and there hardly deserve the name, and are indeed mere hovels — so low, so small, so dark with thatch, and over- grown with moss and heather, that if you did not see smoke issuing from them, and some very ragged dirty old people, and very scantily clothed, dishevelled children, you could not believe they were meant for human habitations. They are very picturesque and embedded in trees, with the heathery and grassy hills rising above them, and * My Ili^Mand servant since 1870, and cousin to Brown. a --ff :i 1' I II 4l i 'if tl i i i; I .1 i •4 v|! r]r^ 1 i,! II 1 1 ] '1 !l If 11 i i 1:1 a- Hi ( 25S ) remliKlcHl mc of Sivitzcrland, There were poor Utile fickls, fuller (^{ weeds ihan of corn, much laid by the wet, and frequently a "calvie" or "coo" of the true shai,^jL;y Hi^^hland character was actu- ally feeding in them. The road, which runs close above the loch, com- mands an excellent view of the fine noble hills on the opposite side of the loch. At Covran Pcny* (eleven miles) are seen across the loch Cona^ /en /dnd Ai^dgoitr, Lord Morton's, at the entrance of a very fine glen. He has bought a large property in these parts, which formerly belonged to the Macleans. South of Comui Ferry the loch is called Loch Ltnnhe, and the road turns inland westwards, soon after passing up along the shore of Loch Lcvcii, which is, in fact, also an arm of the sea. After three miles we passed a few cottages called Onich, the high hills of Glcncoe beginning already to show. All was so bright and green, with so much wood, and the loch so calm, that one was in perpetual admiration of the scenery as one went along. Four miles more from Corran Ferry brought us to Ballachtdish at a little before one o'clock. The situation of the hotel — the large one — on the * Here Alfred got his very favourite Skye terrier Corran. 4^- i_H cS~* ( 259 ) opposite side, at the foot of the hills close to the ferry, is extremely pretty. There was a smaller and less handsome inn on the north side, by which we had come. Here we got out, after all our things — cloaks, bags, luncheon baskets, etc. — had been removed from the carriage, which we had to leave, and walked down to the boat. The small nrmber of people collected there were very quiet and well behaved. Beatrice and Jane Churchill and I, with General Ponsonby and Brown, got into the boat, and two Highlanders in kilts rowed us across to the sound of pipes. On the opposite side there were more people, but all kept at a very respectful distance and were very loyal. A lady (a widow). Lady Beresford, who owns the slate quarries, and her daughter, in deep mourn- ing, were at the landing place, and one of them presented me with a bouquet. We got at once into two carriages (hired, but very fair ones), Beatrice, Jane, and I in a sort of low barouche, Brown on the box. We had a pair of horses, which went very well. The two gentlemen occupied the second carriage. The drive from BallacJiulish, looking both ways, is beautiful, and very Alpine. I remember Louise, and also Alice, making seme c0 — e S 1 # M' hM II .11 ,1 £ 'rl ' ~;=f ) ? if.: :!S r ( 260 ) sketches from here when they went on a tour in 1S65. We went on, winding- under the hii^h green hills, and entered the village of Ballaclndishy where the slate quarries are, and which is in- habited by miners. It was very clean and tidy — a long, continuous, straggling, winding street, where the poor people, who all looked very clean, had decorated every house with flowers and bunches or wreaths of heather and red cloth. Emerging from the village we entered the Pass of GlcncoCy which at the opening is beautlf'.illy green, with trees and cottages dotted about along the verdant valley. There is a farm belonging to a Mrs. MacDonald, a descendant of one of the unfortunate massacred Mac Donalds. The Cona flows along the bottom of the valley, with green "haughs," where a few cattle are to be seen, and sheep, which graze up some of the wildest parts of this glorious glen. A sharp turn in the rough, very winding, and in some parts precipitous road, brings you to the finest, wildest, and grandest part of the pass. Stern, rugged, precipitous mountains with beautiful peaks and rocks piled high one above the other, two and 4] a -ff V I i a a ( 261 ) three thousand feet hi^h, tower and rise up to the heavens on either side, without any signs of habi- tation, except where, halfway up the pass, there are some trees, and near them heaps of stones on either side of the road, remains of what once were homes, which tell the bloody, fearful tale of woe. The place itself is one which adds to the horror of "■'■ j thoucrht that such a thinor could have been conceived and committed on innocent sleeping people. How and whither could they fiy .f* Let me hope that William III. knew nothing of it. To the right, not far on, is seen what is called OssiiUis Cave ; but it must be more than a thou- sand feet above the glen, and one cannot imagine how any one could live there, as they pretend that Ossian did. The violence of the torrents of snow and rain, which come pouring dow^n, has brought quantities of stone with them, which in many parts cover the road and make it very rough. It reminds me very much of the Devirs Bridge, St. Gol/iard, and the Goschencn Pass, only that is higher but not so wild. When we came to the top, which is about tLi miles from Ballachulish, we stopped and got out, and we three sat down under a low u- li :■:>■■ I ^r" \ 111 a-'- i} ( 262 ) wall, just below the road, where we had a splendid view of those peculiarly fine wild-looking peaks, which I sketched. Their Gaelic names are N'a tri Peathraichean (the Three Sisters), but in English they are often called " Faith, Hope, and Charity!' We sat down on the grass (we three) on our plaids, and had our luncheon, served by Brown and Francie, and then I sketched. The day was most beautiful and calm. Here, however — here, in this complete solitude, we were spied upon by impudently inquisitive reporters, who followed us everywhere ; ' t one in particular (who writes for some of th( ^cotch papers) lay down and watched with a te^^scope and dodged me and Beatrice and Jane Churchill, who wr^re walking about, and was most impertinent when Brown went to tell him to move, which Jane herself had thought of doing. However, he did go away at last, and Brown came back saying he thought there would have been a fight ; for when Brown said quite civilly that the Queen wished him to move away, he said he had quite as good a right to re- main there as the Queen. To this Brown answered very strongly, upon which the impertinent indi- -C # a a { 263 ) vidual asked, " Did he know who he was ? " and Brown answered he did, and that ** the highest iientlemen in Ens^land would not dare do what he did, much less a reporter " — and he must move on, or he would give him something more. And tlie man said, " Would he dare say that before those other men (all reporters) who were coming up?" ■ And Brown answered "Yes," he would before "anybody who did not behave as he ought." More strong words were used ; but the others came up and advised the man to come away quietly, which he finally did. Such conduct ought to be known. We were there ne-^^ly an hour, and then began walking down a portion of the steep part. The parish clcrgymari, Mr. Stewart, who had followed us up, and who had met us when we arrived at Ballachulish, explained the names of the hills, and showed the exact place of the dread- ful massacre. He also said that there were many Episcopalians there from the old Jacobite feeling, and also Roman Catholics. There was seldom frost In the glen, he said, but there was a good deal of snow. tg- ■ff I a t . ^— . — » — i. I ( 264 ) A short distance from where Osslan*s cave is shown there is a very small lake called Loch Treachtan, through which the Cona flows ; and at the end of this was a cottage with some cattle and small pieces of cultivated land. We drove down on our return at a great pace. As w^e came through BallacJmlish the post-boy suddenly stopped, and a very respectable, stout- looking old Highlander stepped up to the carriage with a small silver quaich, out of which he said Prince Charles had drunk, and ;dso my dearest Albert in 1847, and begged that I would do the same. A table, covered with a cloth and with a botde on it, was on the other side of the road. I felt I could hardly refuse, and therefore tasted some whisky out of it, which delighted the people who were standing around. His name, we have since heard, is W. A. Cameron. We drove to the same small pier where we had disembarked, and were rowed over again by two Highlanders in kilts. The evening was so beau- tiful and calm that the whole landscape was reflected in the lake. There is a high, conical- shaped hill, the commencement of the Pass of Gleitcoet which is seen best from here ; and the L -5 r-1 < — I — •- B- ( 265 ) range of hills above Ardgoiir and Corran Ferry opposite was of the most lovely blue. The whole scene was most beautiful. Three pipers playtd while we rowed across, and the good people, wlio were most loyal and friendly, cheered loudly. We re-entered our carriages, and drove off at a quick pace. When we were on the shores of Loch Eil again, we stopped (but did not get out) to take tea, having boiled the kettle. The setting sun cast a most glorious light, as yesterday, on Ben Nevis and the surrounding hills, which were quite pink, and gave a perfectly crimson hue to the heather on the moor below. The sky was pink and lilac and pale green, and became richer and richer, while the hills in the other direction, over Fort William, were of a deep blue. It was won- derfully beautiful, and I was still able to make, or at least begin, a sketch of the effect of it, after we came home at a quarter to seven, from Beatrice's window. Resting and writing. Leopold has had far less fine weather for his excursion than we have had. ft -ff I 1 1 >j.i * . if t |i' ■1 J' [fi- -a ( 266 ) Stmday, September 14. It was dull, and there had been some rain, but it cleared, and the day was fine, though not bright. At twenty minutes past eleven walked out with Beatrice. We walked first to look at the kitchen garden, which is large, and has some very nice hot-houses with good grapes. From here we went out by the lodge, meeting not a soul, and past the farm, going down a road on tlie left to a small burn, over which there is a foot-brid^-e. Finding, however, that it only led to a keeper's house, Brown advised us to return, which we ac- cordingly did, coming by the back and the stables, and in at ten minutes to one o'clock. Rested, wrote, and then read prayers with Beatrice, and part of Mr. Campbell's * sermon, which Beatrice was so pleased with that she copied it entirely. Luncheon as usual. Painted and finished the view lookincr towards Fort Williani. At five drove out with Beatrice and Jane Churchill in the waggonette. We drove past the * The newly appointed minister at Crathie. ^ cO- — a ( 267 ) distillery ; and then just beyond the bridc^e, which must be very little over two miles from Inverlochy, we turned off the main road. We drove up for four miles alon^; the Nevis, a fine rapid burn rollinij over larore stones and almost forming- cascades in one or two places, under fine trees with very steep green hills rising on either side, and close under and alon!7 the base of Beit Nevis, which rose like a giant above us. It was splendid ! Straight be- fore us the glen seemed to close ; halfway up we came to a large farm, the drive to which is under an avenue of ash trees. But there is no other habi- tation beyond this of any kind ; and soon after the trees become fewer and fewer, though still a good many grow at the burnside and up the gullies of the hills. Sheep we'- ' grazing at a great heighit. The road bccamiC so rouQ^h and bad that we o-ot out and walked almost a mile, but could go no farther. V/e were delighted with the solemn soli- tude and grandeur of Glen Nevis \ it is almost finer than Glencoe. There was no one when we first entered the glen, but as we walked back w^e met several people coming out to look. After getting into the carriage again, I stopped a little to take a rough sketch. 4 ff \\ V^' a I 1 ( 268 ) ^ The farm belcno^s to Mrs. Campbell of Monzic^ only daujj^hter of the late Sir Duncan Cameron of Fas^ifern, who owns a good deal of Ben jVa'/s. Every hill has a name, but I cannot remember them, though I have them written down by the keeper at hiverlochy. As it was still a little too early to go home, we drove as far as the Fort and turned back, coming in at a quarter past seven. Writing. The post comes in at a most inconve- nient hour, a little past eight. Dinner as usual. My favourite collie Noble is always downstairs when we take our meals, and was so good, Brown making him lie on a chair or couch, and he never attempted to come down without permission, and even held a piece of cake in his mouth without eating it, till told he might. He is the most " biddable " dog I ever saw, and so affectionate and kind ; if he thinks you are not pleased with him, he puts out his paws, and begs in such an affectionate way. Jane Churchill read. ft ^ [&- ( 269 ) a Monday y September 15. The mist hung about the hills, but the sun struggled through. It was very mild and became beautiful. We decided to go up Glenfmnan and to lunch out. Painted and finished two other sketches looking up Loch Eil and towards Bana- vie, arid then wrote, after which at a quarter to twelve took a short turn in the grounds with Beatrice. At twenty minutes to one started with Beatrice and Jane Churchill in the sociable (Brown going each day of course with us on the box), the two gentlemen following (with Francie Clark and Charlie Thomson), and drove past Banavie through Cor pack and up Loch Eil. When we had come to the head of the loch, the road turned towards the right, winding along through verdant valleys, with that noble range of AToidart before you, rather to the left. In one valley, which be came very narrow after passing a large meadow in which they were making hay, we turned into a narrow sort of defile, with the stream of the Finnan (lowing on as slowly as an English river, ^' ff V I [& -a ( 270 ) with trees and fir trees on the rocks, and iinHke anything I had seen in Scotland, and tiien you come at once on Loch SJiiel (a freshwater loch), with fine very high rugged hills on either side. It runs down twenty miles. At the head of the loch stands a very ugly monument to Prince Charles Edward, looking like a sort of lighthouse surmounted by his statue, and surrounded by a wall. Here it was that he landed when he was brought by Macdonald of Borradale — whose descendant, now Macdonald of Glenaladale, has a house here (the only habitation to be seen) — to wait for the gathering of the clans. When Prince Charlie arrived at the spot where the monument stands, which is close to the loch and opposite to Glenjinnan (the road we came going past it and on up a hill to Arisaig, twenty-five miles farther on), he found only a dozen peasants, and thought he had been betrayed, and he sat down with his head in his hands. Suddenly the sound of the pipes aroused him, and he saw the clans coming down Glenjinnan. Soon after the Macdonalds appeared, and in the midst of a cheer- ing host the Marquis of Tullibardine (Duke of Athole but for his attainder) unfurled the banner ta^ # p- na ( 271 ) of King James. This was in August 1745. In 1746 poor Prince Charles was a fugitive hiding in the mountains on the sides of Loch Arkaig and Loch Shit I. As we suddenly came upon Lvch Shiel from the narrow glen, lit up by bright sun- shine, with the fine loncj loch and the ruLiiied mountains, which are about three thousand feet high, rising all around, no habitation or building to be seen except the house of Glcnaladalc, which used to be an inn, and a large picturesque Catholic church, reminding one, from its elevated position to the right and above the house, of churches and convents abroad, I thought I never saw a lovelier or more romantic spot, or one which told its history so well. What a scene it must have been in 1745 ! And here was /, the descendant of the Stuarts and of the very king whom Prince Charles soucrht to overthrow\ sittinor and walkiuQf about quite privately and peaceably. We got out and scrambled up a high hillock off the road, where I lunched \vith Beatrice and Jane Churchill and then sketched, but did not attempt to colour. We walked about a little, and then came down to the road to speak to Mr. Macdonald of Gknaladale, whom General Pon- ■a ff !! H!| 1 li» n 'f f ■ :;i ! a ^-Cb ( 272 ) sonby had been to speak to, and who had never seen me. He is a stout, robust-looking High- lander of about thirty and a widower. He is a Catholic, as are all the people in this district. The priest is his uncle, and lives with him. He showed me some curious relics of Charles Edward. An old fashioned, strange silver snuff '* mull " which had been given by him to Macdonald's ancestor, with the dates 1745 and 1746 engraved on it, for at Borradale Prince Charlie slept for the last time in Scotland', a watch which had belonged to him, and a ring into which some of his fair hair had been put, were also shown. Tb.is is the district called Moidari, and from the highest hills the Is/e of Sky c. is seen distinctly. Lord Morton's property comes up close to Loch Shiel, and to the right are Lochiel, etc., and Mac- donald of Glenaladales in front, at the head of the loch. The family used to live at Borradale near Arisaig, but acquired Glenaladale from the former Macdonalds of Glenaladale who emigrated to Prince Edward's Island after the Forty- five. Beatrice, Jane Churchill, and Brown went up with Mr. Macdonald to the top of the monument, g — -ff in ' [& ^ ( 273 ) but said the ascent was very awkward and diffi- cnlt. G'Micral Ponsonby had been into the church, and said it was very expensively and handsomely decorated, but we have since heard there are only about fifty people n the nei^^hbourhood. We k:ft this bcauLilul spot about half-past four, having spent two hours there. The evening was not so bri';ht as on Friday and Saturday, and there was no after-glow on the hills, Ben Nevis having its top covered with mist, as it often has. The horses were tired, and went rather slowly. I observed a flower here, which I have not seen with us at Balmoral, viz., instead of tiic larofe white daisies * — " Marguerites," as the French call them, and of which such numbers are seen in the ficLIs in England — there is a large yellow one.f just the same in form, only the petals are bright yellow. The heather, as I before observed, is of a very full and rich kind, and, as we drove along, we saw it on the old walls, growing in the loveliest tufts. We met those dreadful reporters, including the man who behaved so ill on Saturday, as we were * Chrysattthcmum Leitcanihemiim, White ox-eye daisy, •j- Chrysaftthemu?n segetuniy Yellow ox-eye or corn mari- gold. ■a •1=3 'I ti '\ 1 1 41 i < 1: I 1* i I '< i 1 '1 ! a ^ ( 274 ) coming back. We got home at twenty minutes past six. Had some tea. Wrote and put every- thing in order. All had been settled about money to be given, etc. Our last nice little dinner, which I regretted. Came up directly after and wrote. Tuesday, September i6. Had to get up by seven, and Beatrice and I breakfasted at a quarter to eight. The morning was fine. The real name of the place used to be Torltmdy, which is the name of the " lochie," or " tarn,'* below the house, in the middle of which there is a little island on which there are ducks. The property, which is very large, sixty-four miles in extent, was purchased from the late Duke of Gordon by the late Lord Abinger, who began a house, but it was burnt down ; the present Lord built this one, in fact, only ten years ago, and added to it since. He has called it Inverlochy Castle^ after the old fortress, which is supposed to have belonged to the Pictish kings, but the present ruin is thought to date from the time of Edward L The Marquis of Montrose defeated the Marquis a # '^^.. a-r ^ { /o ) of Arofv^f" tlie^'e in 1645, an incident clcscribcd in Sir Walter Scott's "Legend of Montrose." At a qMcirter-[)ast eight we left Invcrlochy Castle, where we had spent very pleasant days. The gentlemen had Qone on before. We drove to Banavie, where a good many people were assembled, and stepped on board the steamer which was on the Caledonian Canal. Here were Lord and Lady Abinger, whom I thanked very mucn for their kindness. I left an illustrated copy of my book and prints of Albert's and my portraits at Inverlochy for Lord Abinger. She is an American lady from the Southern Slates, a Miss Macgruder, and they have five children, of whom one only is a boy. They left the steamer, and we began moving. The steamer is called the " Gondolier." It is built on the same principle as the one we had on Loch Lomond, with a fine large cabin with many windows, almost a deck cabin (though it is down one flight of steps), which extends through the ship with seats below, open at the sides far forward. In this large cabin sixty-two people can dine. We remained chiefly on deck. We steamed gently along under the road by which we had driven from Gairlochy and T f a & I I I »*;■■ "mm • I, :'i i ! Is ): \ ; !^ I ■ a t ( 276 ) Achnacarryy Lochiel's to the left or west, aiul Lord Abinger's to the right. Ben Nevis, urifortu- nately, was hid in the mist, and the top invisible, which we hear is very generally the case. We came to one lock, and then shortly afterwards to Gairlochy, after which you enter Loch LocJiy. The Caledonian Canal is a very wonderful piece of engineering, but travelling by it is very tedious. At each lozk people crowded up close to the side of the steamer. As the river rises from Banavie to Loch Oich (which succeeds Loch Lochy), the canal has to raise the vessels up to that point, and again to lower them from Loch Oich to Inverness. The vessel, on entering the lock from the higher level, is enclosed by the shutting of the gates. The sluices of the lower gates are raised by small wind- lasses (it was amusing to see the people, including the crew of the steamer, who went on shore to ex- pedite the operation, which is not generally done, run round and round to move these windlasses), and holes are thus opened at the bottom of the lower gates, through which the water flows till the water in the lock sinks to the lowest level. The lower gates are then opened, as the water is on the lowest level, while the upper gates keep back a -^ a --ff fl- ^ ( 277 ) the water above. The same process raises the ships in the lock \vhich ascend. About five or six feet can be raised or depressed in this manner at each lock. (I have copied this from an account General Ponsonby wrote for me.) As we entered Loch Loc/iy, which looked beauti- ful, we saw v.'here Lech Arkaig lay, thou^^h it was hid from us bv hit/h ijround. The hills which rise from LocJi Lochy are excellent pasture for sheep, but the lower pans are much wooded. After ei,;ht miles' sail on Locli Lochy we came to Loch OUh, which is entered by another lock at Lagi^ait. 1 lere Mr. and Mrs. Ellice (who isafu'st cousin of the Greys) were waiting, and came on board. They had wished me to get cut and drive round their fine place, Lnvcrgarry, to rejoin the steamer at the next lock, but I declined, preferring to remain quietly on board, though tlie process of going through the locks is slow and necessarily tedious. It is nervous work to steer, for there is hardly a foot to spare on either side. Mrs. Ellice went on shore again, having given us some fine grapes, but Mr. Ellice remained on board till the next lock, Ciillochy. A road much shaded runs along the side of the loch, and here we passed ■a ^ 11! ■I 8 i-.i ■II I'i . : i : ; 1 I i cS- ( 2/0 ) the small monument by its side, put over the well into which a number of h^'ads of some of the Mac- Donalds, who had murdered two of their kinsmen of Keppoch, were thrown after they had been killed in revenge for this act, by order of MacDonald of the Isles. It was erected in 1812. We next came to the old ruined castle of Invcrgarry, embosomed in trees, close to which, but not in si;^ht, is ]\Ir. Ellice's new house. Me has an immense deal of property here on both sides. The hills rise hi-h. and one conically shaped one called Ben Tii'i towers above the rest. At Cnllochy i\Ir. Ellice left the steamer. Mr. Brewster, formerly Lord Chancellor of h^eland and nearly eighty years old, was standing on the shore here. Francie and one of the policemen got out with good Noble, and walked to meet us again at Fort Atif, where there was again some delay and a great many people, and where there was a triumphal arch. Here on this very day thirty-six years ago my beloved Albert passed, and he saw poor Macdonald the Jager here, and took a lil If: ; n :'2}-! 1' '.. ill ■.■5. ■ ■{ -xk ' . 1 1' i ! a- a I I 3S n ! ( 282 ) where no Sovereign had been seen since my poor ancestress Queen Mary. The mixture of half state and humble travelling (we being in our common travelling dresses) was rather amusing. The evening was beautiful, and Inverness looked extremely well on the blue Moray Frith. We passed a magnificent building, which is the county Lunatic Asylum. We had to drive six miles to the town, through a small portion of which only we passed, and had to drive quickly, as it was late. The streets were full of decorations and arches, and lined with volunteers. Great order pre- vailed, and the people were most enthusiastic. The fine-looking old Provost was there, and the Master of Lovat, who walked up along the station with us. A great squeeze, which Brown, having a great heap of cloaks etc. to carry, had some difficulty in getting through. But everyone, including the dog, got safe in, and we travelled by train as before. We went the same way as last year, but never stopped till we got to Keith, where last time our door got wrong. After this, about six, wo had some warm tea and cold meat, whi^h was very refreshing. A fine evening. ^ — ff a &-- ■a poor 11 ] Sen ( 283 ) We reached Ballater at five minutes to nine, and started at once in the open landau and four, preceded by the outrider with the lamp. There were a few drops of rain, but very slight. At twenty minutes to ten we reached Balmoral safely, very thankful that all had gone off so well. ^- e^ 'A 1 . ' I ! \ I ■ •(1^ \ I fi ■ ; Hi a ( 284 ) Homecoming of their Royal Highnesses the Duke and Duchess of Edinburgh, August 1S74. •a u t ■n f t& Saturday, Angust 29, 1874. At a quarter to two started in the landau and four with Beatrice and Lady Abercromby, Brown in full dress on the rumble. It was raining, so we kept the carriage shut, but there were decided symptoms of clearing, and by the time we reached Ballater the sun began to shine, and the rain ceased as I got out. The train with Alfred and Marie had already arrived, and Marie got out as I advanced. Alfred was already out of the carriage. I kissed them, and then, with Marie, Alfred, and Beatrice, got in again, the carriage being open, and it was very fine. Marie wore a brown travelling dress with a # c5'""T -a ( 285 ) hat. When \vc reached the bridge we went slowly. The Ba //a^er comp:iny of volunteers, to the number of thirty (kilted in Farquharson tartan), were next it, and from here to the arch, and beyond it, stood all our people in full dress with their families, and all the tenants of the three estates with theirs, also the ladies and gentlemen. The pipers walked in front playing, and our keepers and others, wh.o wore full dress, on either side (Brown remaining in his place on the carriage), followed by all the other people. In this way we proceeded through the arch up to Ba/?7wra/, just as when Helena arrived, only then there were fewer people. Leopold was in his carriage. We got out at the door of the Castle, and then Dr. Robertson proposed the health of Alfred and Marie, v/hich was drunk by all with cheers. Then two reels were danced, after which we took Marie and Alfred to their rooms down- stairs, and sat with them while they had tea. ! fr ' Lj I r ' I II a ■MM^MM^^tai ft ( *S6 ) Departure of the Prtnce of Wat.fs from Abergeldie before leaving for India. Bahnoraly Friday, Sf timber 17, 1S75. Coming home from our drive at twenty minutes past seven, we had passed Bertie's carriage in the Balloch Bute, but we heard no sound of a carriage when we went downstairs for dinner a little before nine, and Alix [Princess of Wales] had also not arrived. Their people having come, we consulted with Charlotte KncMvs * what to do, and sent to beg Alix to come and order Bertie's things to be brought to the Castle. At length, at half-past nine, Bertie arrived, very hot, having lost his way and. been separated from the others. • Lady to the Princess of Wales, eldest daughter of General Sir William KnoUys, K.C.B., for many years at the head of the Prince of Wales's iiOUSLhold. "5- ■^ a a ( 2S7 ) I If liad j^ot four staL^s (and had been lucky alto- gether), and he asked us to go to dinner. VV^e accordingly sat down — Lenchcn, Beatrice, Jane Churchill, and Lord Carnarvon. Christian had gone on to look after Bertie, but he soon returned. Only at ten did Alix arrive, and at ten minutes past ten, Bertie ; and we did not get up from dinner till half-past ten. All the ladies and gentlemen came into the drawing-room after dinner, and all felt that this terrible parting was hanging over us. At eleven I took Bertie and Alix upstairs, and talked over various details of this anxious journey to India. Then it came to the saying good-night, and Bertie sent for Lohlein and Brown to come and take leave of him. I saw how that began to try him, and it grieved them. He shook hands with both, and I felt nearly upset myself when Brown shook him by the hand, and said: "God bless your Royal Highness, and bring you safe back!" He also wished my maids good-bye, who were standing there. Poor dear Alix seemed to feel it much, and so did I, as I embraced them both several times, and said I would go to see them off next morning. 4 I ^ w . 1^ ; In I I ! I a ( ^^^ ) Saturday y September i8. • A dull and rather raw morninnr. Breakfasted alone (as Beatrice was not quite well, with a sort of chill) at nine in the cottage. At half-past nine I drove off with Lenchen to Abergeldic. There we found all in considerable confusion. BerLie was out in tlic garden, where we waited a little while, and then I went up, and found poor Alix putting up her things in her bed- room — the little girls there — the maids not yet off. At length, at a quarter-past ten, they left. Dear Bertie wished all good-bye. Our ladies and gentlemen and all the people were assembled outside. , Poor dear Beatrice was the only one absent. Christian had gone on before. Bertie shook hands with all ; I wished him every possi- ble success, and that God would bless and pro- tect him during this long and anxious journey to the East. It was very sad to see him drive off with Alix and the boys (the little girls followed in another carriage), not knowing wha- might not happen, or if he would ever return. May God bless him I k^- a # ( 289 ) Visit to Inveraray, September 1875. Tuesday, September 21, 1875. We had a family dinner at twenty minutes to nine. At a quarter past ten left Balmoral with Beatrice and Jane Churchill, Brown on the rumble. We reached Ballater by eleven, when we took the railroad. General Ponsonby and Sir W. Jenner met us there. Emilie, Annie, Morgan (for Beatrice), Francie Clark, and the footmen, Cannon, Charlie Thomson, and Heir, went in attendance, as well as Baldry and three men of the police. The horses (six) with Bourner, Hutchinson, and Goddard with the luggage, had gone on in advance. We started immediately, and very soon after lay down. We went steadily and slowly, but I did not sleep very well. ■a -ff ! |l i m; .ill : ; I \% I '•I' 'if i l» ;. li I '\\ cfl- -q fr l!] ( -90 ) Inveraray, Wednesday, September 22. At eight we reached Tyndriun, a wild, pic- turesque, and desolate place in a sort of wild glen with green hills rising around. Here we break- fasted in the train, Brown having had tho coffee heated which we had brought made with us, and some things coming from the nice-looking hotel. The morning was beautiful, just a little mist on the highest hills, which cleared off. There are a few straggling houses and a nice hotel at this station, where we got out and where Lord and Lady Breadalbane met us, as this is his property. The day was beautiful. We got into the sociable (that is, Beatrice, Jane Churchill, and I) with a pair of posthorses. Brown and Francie Clark on the box, the two gentlemen and four maids in a waggonette following, and further behind the unavoidable luggage with the footmen, etc. The road lay up a broad glen, with green hills on either side, on one of which are lead mines belonging to Lord Breadalbane. It was very winding, very rough, and continually — _gi a- -D. ( 291 ) up and down, and we went very slowly. Looking back, behind Tyndnim was a fine range of hills which are in the forest of the Black Moinit. Passed the entrance of a broad glen with mrny trees called Glenorchy (the second title of Breadal- bane), and saw all along where the railway is being made. A small stream flows at the bottom. To the left we saw Ben Ltiie; then as we descended, the country became more arJ more beautiful, wiili trees and copsewood sprinkled about, till we came to Dalmally, lying embosomed in trees, with Bcji Crnachaii and its adjacent range rising close be- fore us, with the bluest shadows and tints on all the heights, and the sky pure and bright with a hot sun, though a o^ood deal of air. Lookin-,'^ back we still saw the other green hills from which we bad come. As it approaches Dalvially the road goes under trees till you reach the inn, which stands quite alone. The church is beautifully situated at the bottom of the glen, and is surrounded by trees. There was no large crowd here, and the people behaved very well. Dalmally is thirteen miles from Tyn- drum. Four horses were put on here to drag us up the first hill, which was long and high, cud tfl- u a 4 f •VA Hi!: k !l :'i m 'J f i .il i|- • I .1 " < • , .1 ii ii t 11 i 1 il i ! I ! i t a ( 292 ) brought us in view of Loch Awe, which looked beautiful. Here the leaders were taken off. Loch Awe extends back a good way, and we could just see Kilchtnni Castle, of historic celebrity, and the beautiful head of the loch with high hills on the right, and the islands of Innishail and Arachonc, besides many smaller ones. On the first-named of these is said to be buried an ancestor of the Argylls. The loch is thirty miles in length, and as it stretches out and widens the hills become much flatter. We drove quite round the head of Loch Azue, then passed Cladich, and here the ground became very broken, and high hills wc^-e seen in the background, towering above the nearer ones. Bracken with birch and oak, etc., grow profusely among the green hills and rocks, much as they do near Inverlochy, Loch Ed, etc. Here and there were small knots of people, but not many. About five or six miles before Inveraray, at a place called Crais-na-Schleacaich, at the foot of Glen A ray, where the Duke's property begins, four of our own horses were waiting, and here dear Louise and Lome met us, looking pleased and well. Lome rode, and dear Louise got into her pony-carriage and drove after us. We soon a r --a ( 293 ) after came to an arch with a Gaelic inscription — " Ceud niille Faille do'n Bhan Rhiwhinn do o Inerara" (A hundred thousand welcomes to the Queen to luvcratay). A very stout tenant's wife, Mrs. McArthur, presented me with a nosegay, which a child she held in her arms gave me. On w^e went along Gicri A ray, the road as we approached Inveraray Castle being bordered on either side by trees. When we reached the gate there were two halberdiers, whilst others were posted at intervals along the approach, dressed in Campbell tartan kilts with brown coats turned back with red, and bonnets with a black cock's tail and bog- myrtle (the Campbell badge). With them were also the pipers of the volunteers. In front o( the house the volunteers in kilts and red jackets, and the artillery volunteers in blue and silver, of whom Lome is the colonel, were drawn up, and a good many spectators were assembled. The Duke and Duchess of Argyll and their six girls were at the door : the outside steps are now under glass and made into a sort of conservatory. The Duke and Duchess took us upstairs at once to our rooms, part of which are Louise's ; very comfortable, not large but cheerful, and ^- -JI3 \\\ :li I ;^ a -a ( 294 ) havinsf a beautiful view of Loch F\nc. It was one when we arrived, and we lunched at two, only Louise, Beatrice, and Lome, in a nice room (in fact the Duchess's drawing-room) with tapes- try, at the foot of the stairs. Brown (who has attended me at all the meals since we came here) waited, helped by two or three of the Duke's people. After lunch we went into the large draw- ing-room, next door to where we had lunched in 1847, when Lome was only two years old. And now I return, alas! without my beloved Husband, to find Lome my son-in-law ! In the drawing-room I found Lord and Lady Dufferin (who are staying here) as well as Sir John and Lady Emma McNeill. She is the Duke's only sister, and he a very fine old man (now eighty), v/ho was formerly my minister in Persia. Went upstairs to rest and sketch the splendid Ard- kbii^lass Hills, from the window of the little turret which forms my dressing-room. Then had tea, and at half-jjast five drove out with Louise and Beatrice by the lodge called Cvcitablulle, through part of the wood or forest where the beeches are splendid, as also the spruces, on past Ballacha- nooran, by the upper road, green hills, trees, oaks. ^ ■ff a ( 295 ) ferns, and broken ground all along*, like at Loch Eil, past AchnagoiU, a little village lying close under the hill, to the Doiiglas Water, a small rapid stream. Here we turned back and went along this pretty little mountain stream, past some cottages and a small farm, and then came upon the shore of Loch Fyne, the drive along which is lovely. As we drove, the setting sun bathed the hills in crimson, — they had been golden just before, — the effect was exquisite. Looking up and down the shores, the view was lovely, and the reflections on the calm surface of the lake most beautiful. We drove back through the small town of Inveraray, which is close to ^i^e gates of the Castle, and looks pretty from ni^. vvindow with its small pier, where we landed in 1847, and near to which there is a curious old Celtic cross. There are two inns, three churches, and a jail, for it is a county town. On coming home we walked a little in the garden close to the house, and came in at ten minutes past seven. Resting. Writing. Dinner at half-past eight in the room in which we lunched. The Duke and Duchess, Louise, Ueatrice, and Lady Churchill dined with me. ^- a ff ! '!■■ iP • I » I HI i i Hi 1 ; i »i - .''1, r - - a ( 296 ) Then went for a short while into the ch'awing-- rooni, wliere, besides the family, which included Lord Colin, were Dr, MacGregor, Mr. Donald Macleod, and Mr, Story (all clergymen staying in the house), and the following gendemen : Lord Ardmillan (who was there for the assizes), Mr. Campbell, of Sionefield (Convener of the county of Argyll), Mr. and Mrs. Hector Macneal, of Ugadale, etc. Mr. Macneal showed me a brooch which had some resemblance to the BroocJi oj Lornc^ and had been given by King Robert Bruce to one of his ancestors. % ■ Thursday, September 23. This sad anniversary, when my beloved sistei* was taken from me, whom I miss so continually, returns for the third time. A fine morning. Breakfasted in my sitting- room at a quarter to ten with Louise and Beatrice. My sitting-room is generally Louise's bedroom, which had been specially arranged by her for me, and in the recess the Duchess had placed a picture oi Balmoral, copied from A. Becker's picture. This opens into a small apartment, generally used as ■i fl- ^& ■b ( 297 ) Lome's dressings room, in which my maid Annie sleeps and the two maids sit, next to which comes the bedroom, at the end of which is the nice cozy Httle turret-room with two windows, one of which looks on the loch with the very fine An^kif.'oiass Remote in front, and the other on the front door, the bridge, and splendid trees. My dresser, Emilie Dittweiler, 's next door to my bedroom, and Beatrice next to her in Louise's sittinof-room. At a little after eleven I walked out with Louise and Beatrice along the approach, and then turned up through the wood and up the lower walk of DtinaqiLoich, the hill opposite the house, which is wooded nearly to the top, on whicli is a tower, and walked alonor under mai^nificent trees, chiefly beeches and some very fine spruces, that reminded me of Windsor Park and Rcin- Jiardlsbrimn. We walked on some way, passed a well and a small cottage, where the poultry is kept, where there is a funny good-natured woman called Mrs. McNicholl, who kissed Louise's hand and knelt dovn when I came up, and said to Louise, when she heard I was coming. " Hov/ sliall I speak to her?" We went into the littl-.^ cottage, where another old woman of eiglity lives. B" c| J - ' ! ■! t : a- ^ ( -^9^ ) She lookrcl so nice and tidy with i: iv;:in -Ahiic miitcii. We th(M"i walkf^d down and can?e b-ick alono" the. ri\cr, which liows quite close, vj the house into the sea, and is full of fish., We v/erc in at twenty minutes to one. Luncheon at two, just hke yesterday. The day was dull, but quite fair and clear. D. awing" and painting. At a quarter-past four drove out with Louise, Beatrice, and the Duchess, in my waggonette, driven by Bourner. After going for some dir.tance t!ie same way as yesterday afternoon, we turned into a wooded drive, leading to the G/c/f of Essa- c/iosaji, where there are the most beautiful spruces, and some silver firs which reminded me in height and size of those on the road to Ebersiciii, near Baden, and on by what they call the Queen's drive, made for me in 187 1, past Lechkenvohr, whence there is a fine view of the loch and surroundinqf hills, Ben Em, Ben Bnie, etc. The road is very steep going down to the Curling Pond and Black Bull Collage ; then over Carloiinan Bridge down to some falls, and back along the approach to the Dhtt Loch, under the avenue of fine old beeches, v/hich, joining a.s they do, almost form an aisle. Eleven, alas ! were blown down two years ago : 'U rR— • - -a ( 299 ) they were pl.7iitcd by the Marquis of Atyyll two hundred years ago. You come rapidly upon the Dim Loch, a small but very pretty loch — a com- [)lete contrast to our D!nt Loch, for this is sur- rounded by green and very wooded hills, with the extremely pi-et'y and picturesque GLii Shira in the background, which is richly wooded. \V(! drove alon/ the ri^-ht bank of the Shira River. up as far as the small farm of DriDu Lee, most prettily situated en the hillside some way U[), passing one or two otlier farms — one especially, a very strange old building. We took our (made) tea, and Elizabeth (the Duchess) greatly admired the convenient arrangement (viz. the bag into which cups etc. are fitted), and then drove back the same way and along the shore road. Home at ten minutes to seven. A charming drive, but there was a ver)' high and cold wind. Louise, Beatrice, the Duchess of Argyll, Lord and Lady Dufferin, and Sir John and Lady Emma McNeill dined with me, as yesterday. Went a<^ain for a short while into the drawing- room, where the Duke presented some other people — the sheriff, Mr. F. A. Irvine of Drum (in Aberdecnsiiire), Mr. J. IVIalcolm of Poltalloch (a ^- -ff 1 I, . 1 '\ w 1. 1 I ■ r 1 , i ; r 1 1 ' , i i ' 1 . i, \ ,>i n i f! 11 i j 1 ;■ ^ i i i 1 ) !■ • 1 • 1 i 1 ■ , !' r ! i' i ;h 1, . ^ 1 i ■ i . Hi 1 I 1 a- -ft] [& ( .^oo ) fine-loc)kInii[ m:\n, wliosc son. a tall Inro^c man, diiictl licre yesterday, and whose daii^^;litrr has JList married I\Ir. Gathornc Hardy's son), and Sir G. and Lady Home, who live just outside the town : he is sheriff-depute, and she a niece of Sir F. Grant. Went upstairs with Heatricct and Jane Churchill, Louise always remainin|.i; below. Friday, Scpttiubcr 24. Raining^ and blowing". Breakfasted with my two dear daughters. The rain ceased, and at a little past twelve I walked with Louise and Beatrice up by the lodge at the stables, which are in the " Cherry Park,'' and looked at our horses and Louise's, and saw a little dog, the daughter of Louise's poor old Frisky ; and then walked along at the back of the stables, where the trees are very fine — most splendid silver firs — and then back by the kitchen-garden and the straiglitost path, past a magnificent Scotch fir of great heiglit and circumference. In at twenty minutes past one. It was dull and dark. At a quarter past five, after tea, started witli Louise, Beatrice, and Jane Churchill in the rain, -^ ^ ( 301 ) wliich turned to a lu^avy cl{nvn[)()iir. \Vc drove up the way we had previously \vah4 ) and then went up to where the glen closes, and on the brae there is a keeper's cotta^^^e, just above which are the remains of a house where Rob Roy lived for some time concealed, but on sufferance. His army or followers were hidden in Gldi Sliira. We got out here to look at some fine falls of I'le river Shira, a linn fiillfno- from a heiL>ht to which footpaths had been made. Then drove on a little farther, and stopped to take our tea. We stopped twice afterwards to make a slight sketch of this lovely green glen, so picturesque and peace- ful-lookinir, and then to take another view from the lower enil of the Dhu Loch, in which Louise helped me. She also sketched the glen, and had done a sketch this morning. She has such talent, dear good child, and I felt so sad to leave her. The evening was quite fine, it having cleared up and all the heavy clouds vanished when we arrived at the head of the glen. In at twenty minutes past six. Busy arranging papers, painting> etc. Besides Louise and Beatrice, the Duke and Duchess, Lady Dufferin and Mr. J. Campbell dined with me. Went again into the drawing-room and toolc leave of the Dufierins, who were to go next day. Jt- B" f ^ ( 3'5 ) He starts on the 8th for Canada, Dear Louise came up with me to my room, and stayed a litde while talking with me. Wednesday, September 29. Vicky's and Fritz's eni^ai^ement day — ah'tatly twenty years ac^o ! God bless them ! Got up l)efore eight, and at half-past eij^ht breakfasted for the last time with dear Louise and Beatrice. Then dressed before half-past nine aiul went downstairs. The early morning was fair, ihouL^h misty, but unfortunately by half-past eight ihe mist had come down and it rained. It was decided that the horses should cfo back overland (having had such a terrible journey from the diffi- cult embarkation and landing) by Dalinally, stop ping all night at Tyndrtmi and coming on next clay. The van was to go by sea. Some of the things belonging to our toilettes (which were in far too cumbrous boxc-s) we kept with us. 1 took leave of th.e wl'.ole famiK' * incluch"ncr the INIcXeills. and, with a heavy heart, of my darling Louise. It rained very mucli as we ch'ove off, and for some time nfterv/ards, to make it more melancholy. * lilizabcih, DlcIicss of Argyll, died May 25, 1878. a T '! 't (1 ill « ' :'•' 1^1 I I : ;:n ; i ■ I :^ ^ ( 3'6 ) We left Inveraray at half-past nine, and drove out by the same gateway as on our arrival, but afterwards went along the sea-shore to the head of the loch. We then turned to the right, still along the lochside, and changed horses at twenty minutes to eleven at a small inn called Cainidow, where the dear little Campbell children are staying, and who were at the window — such lovely children ! There were a few people collected, and the harness as well as Mie horses had to be changed, and a pair of leaders put on to pull us up the long steep ascent in Glenkinolass. This caused a delay of ten minutes or a quarter of an hour. It rained rather heavily, the mist hanging over the hills most provokingly. We passed Ardkinglass (Mr. Callander's), and then turned up to the left through the very wild and desolate Glenkinglass. The high green hills with hardly any habitations re- minded me of the Spital of Glenshee. The mi^t lifted just enough to let one see the tops of the hills below which we were passing. The road was steep, and, just as we were getting near the top, the leaders, which had repeatedly stopped, refused to pull any farther, reared and kicked and jibbed, so that w(i really thought we should never get on, a 4 ^ ( 317 ) and should perhaps have to sleep at some wayside inn. But we stopped, and Brown had the leaders taken off near a small tarn, called Loch Reslel, and he and Francie walked. We then got on much better. A little farther en we passed a few scat- tered huts, and at last we reached the top of this long ascent. The rain, which had been very heavy just when our plight was at its worst, stopped, and the day cleared. At the summit of the pass is the spot called Rest and be thankftil, from an inscription cut upon a stone by the regiment that made the road, which was one of the military roads to open up the Highlands constructed by Government under the superintendence of Marshal Wade. The stone still remains, but the words are much defaced. Here we came upon the splendid steep wild pass of Glen Croe, something like Glcncoe, but not so fine and the road much steeper. It reminds me of the Devil's Elbow, and even of the DcviTs Bridge in the Goschcnen Pass on the St. Gothard. We got out and walked down the road, which goes in a zigzag. A few people who had walk(!d up from the coach were standing there. As at Glencoe the stream flows in the hollow of the pass, and t a --ff ! I 3>1 1 ri' .:! ■ I i ■ '1 I r 6- B- •^r: ( 318 ) there were some cattle and a house or two. The sun even came out all at once and lit up the wild grand scene. We got into the carriage near the bottom, and drank Fritz and Vickv's healths. There was no more heavy rain, diough there were frequent showers succeeded by most brilliant sunshine. We drove on under and by trees, and savv high hill-tops, including the peak of /Jc/i Lomond, and then came upon Loch Long, a sea loch, which we sailed up in 1847, and drove part of the way along the shore, on the opposite side of which lie A^^'ochar and several pretty villas. We went round the head of the loch, where stood Lady Welby (formerly Victoria Wortley) and her children, and drove along under an arch near the bridge, passing through the village of Arrochar, which is in DiLmbartonshirc, and here had a very good view of the celebrated Cobbler, or Ben Arthur. We next changed horses at Tarbel, quite a small village, where there was a sort of arch, composed of laurels and flowers stretched across the road. There were a good many people here, who pressed hi upon us a good dt^al. Here General Ponsonby presented Mr. H. E. Crum Ewing, Lord 'LiQ.wiQWdiWi oi Dumbartojishire. He ■ff £H; a ( 319 ) preceded us a lltdc way in his carriage, and then followed us. The drive along Loch Lomond, which we came upon almost immediately after Tardef, was per- fectly beautiful. We wound along under trees on both sides, with the most lovely glimpses of the head of the loch, ard ever and anon of Loch Lomond itself below the road ; the hills which rose upon our right reminding me of Aberfoyle, near Loch Ard, and of the lower part of the Pilatns. Such fine trees, numbers of hollies growing down almost into the water, and such beautiful capes and litde bays and promontories ! The loch was extremely rough, and so fierce was the wind, that the foam was blown like smoke along the deep blue of the water. The gale had broken some trees. The sun lit up the whole scene beautifully, but we had a few slight showers. It reminded me of Sivitzerland. I thought we saw everything so much better than we had formerly done from the steamer. As we proceeded, the hills became lower, the loch widened, and the many wooded islands appeared. We next changed horses at Imss, quite a small village — indeed the liule inn stands almost alone, and they drove us ta- 4 i ■'!! ■'\ ii ■'i ; i ! n ■■ i a- ■a ( 320 ) close up to it, but there was a great crowding and squeezing, and some children screamed with fright ; two presented nosegays to Beatrice and me, and a poor woman offered me a bag of ** sweeties^ F'rom here we drove along past the openings of Glen Luss and Glen Finlas, which run up amongst the fine hills to the right, the loch being on our left, and the road much wooded. There are slate quarries close to Ltiss. About two miles from Lnss we drove through Sir J. Colquhoun's place, Rossdhn, which commands a beautiful view of Ben Lomond and the loch, and drove up to the house where Highland volunteers were drawn up, and where we stopped without getting out of the carriage, and I received a nosegay from a little girl, and a basket of fruit. Sir J. Colquhoun's father was drowned two years ago in the loch, crosslnof over from an island where he Lad been shooting, and the body was not found for a fort- night ; the keepers with him were also drowned. We drove on, passing several other places, and everywhere were arches of flowers, flags, etc., and the poorest people had hung out handkerchiefs for flags. We were followed by endless "machines" full of people, and many on foot running, and our ^ -EP a tfl -t:; ( 321 ) horses were bad and went very slowly. However, as we approached Balloch, through which we did not pass, but only went up to the station, though the crowds were very great, perfect order was kept. The militia was out, and we got quite easily into the train at a quarter-past three. Here again a nosegay was presented, and Mr. A. Orr Ewing, member for the county, and Mr. Smollett, the Convener, whom we had seen on board the steamer six years ago, were presented. Bulloch is a manufacturing place for dyeing, and is connected with the trade in Glascrow. We had some cold luncheon as soon as we got into the train. Our next stoppage was at Stirling, where there was an immense concourse of people, and the station prettily decorated. The evening was very fine, the pretty scenery appearing to great advantage, and the sky lovely. After this it got rapidly dark. We stopped at Perth and at the Bridge of Dim, where Jane Churchill got into our carriage and we had some tea ; and then at Aber- deen, where it poured. At twenty minutes to ten we arrived at Ballater, and at once got into our carriage, and reached Balmoral at twenty-five minutes to eleven. ■ff I 'I 'j! ! !!| ! t .ill '5 4^ a 322 Highland Funeral. October 1875. a r. ; Thursday, October 2\, 1875. Much grieved at its being a worse day than ever for the funeral of Brown s father,* which sad ceremony was to take place to-day. The rain is hopeless — rhe ninth day! Quite unheard of ! I saw good Brown a moment before breakfast ; he was low and sad, and then going off to Micras. At twenty minutes to twelve drove with Beatrice and Janie Ely to Micras. As we drove up (unfortu- nately raining much) we met Dr Robertson, and all along near the house were numbers of people — Brown told me afterwards he thought above a hundred. All my keepers, Mitchell the blacksmith {(rova Clackanturn), Symon,. Grant, Brown's five * He had died on the i8th, aged 86, at Micras, opposite Abergeldie, on the other side of the river. 43-- B' [& ft ( 323 ) uncles, Leys, Thomson (postmaster), and the forester, people below Micras and in Aberarder, and my people ; Heale, Lohlein (returned this day from a week's leave), Cowley Jarrett, Ross and Collins (sergeant footman). Brown and his four brothers,* including Donald (who only arrived last night, and went to the Bush, his brother William's farm), took us to the kitchen, where was poor dear old Mrs. Brown sitting near the fire and much upset, but still calm and dignified ; Mrs. William Brown was most kind and helpful, and the old sister-in-law and her daughter ; also the Hon. M. West, Mr. Sahl, Drs. Marshall and Profeit, Mr. Begg, and Dr. Robertson, who came in later. The sons, and a few whom Brown sent out of the kitchen, were in the other small room, where was the coffin. A small passage always divides the kitchen and the sitting- room in this old sort of farmhouse, in front of which is the door — the only door. Mr. Campbell, the minister of Crathie, stood in the passage at the door, every one else standing close outside. As soon as he began his prayer, poor dear old Mrs. Brown got up and came and stood near me — able to hear, though, * The fifth, Hugh (who, since May 1883, has been my Highland attendant), was then in New Zealand. ^ Y a ff 4; ; ! f ! i :\ i ; 1! [& ( 324 ) alas! not to sec — and leant on a chair diirlnQf the very impressive prayers, which Mr. Campbell gave admirably. When it was over, Brown came and begged her to go and sit down while they took the coffin away, the brothers bearing it. Every oiie went out nd ^^'lo ^ed, and we also hurried out and just sav; diem place the coffin in the hearse, aud then ^ve vev> '^n to a hillock, whence we saw the sad procession AXv-ding its way sadly down. The sons were there, whom I distinguished easily from their being near good Brown, who wore his kilt walking near the hearse. All walked, except our gentlemen, who drove. It fortunately ceased raining just then. I went back to the house, and tried to soothe and comfort dear old Mrs. Brown, and gave her a mourning brooch with a little bit of her husband's hair which had been cut off yester- day, and I shall give a locket to each of the sons. When the coffin was being taken away, she sobbed bitterly. We took some whisky and water and cheese, according to the universal Highland custom, and then left, begging the dear old lady to bear up. I told her the parting was but for a time. We drove quickly on, and saw them go into the kirk- h^- a # r£h' -a ( 325 ) yard, and tlirow^h my glasses I could see them cairv t'le coffin in. I was i^^rieved I could not be i.i the kirk yard Saw my good Brown at a little before two. He said all had gone off well, but he seemed very sad ; he had to go back to Micras to meet all the family at tea. All this was terribly trying for the poor dear old widow, but could not be avoided. Already, yesterday morning, she .^^ several of the wives and neighbours to tea. E , y one was very kind and full of sympath ii d Brown was greatly gratified by the respect shown to him and his family to-day. ■ r I j 'f .;• \ • ^ ■ff I I I ; f 1 I C± C0- -Eb ( 326 ) UNVKIMNr, OF THE StATUE OF THE pRlNCE CoxNsoRT AT Edinburgh, 1876. IJolyrood, August 17, 1876. Beloved Mama's birthday. How often she came to Edinburgh for a few- days on her way to and from Abergeldie, and how much she always liked it ! We arrived yesterday morning at Edinburgh at eight o'clock. Had had a good night. Unfortu- nately the weather was misty, and even a litde rain fell. No distance could well be seen. Dear Ardiur came to breakfast (always in uniform).* At eleven o'clock went and sat out till half-past twelve, under an umbrella and with screens, on the side of the Abbey facing Ai^thtcrs Seat. Wrote * He was then Major in the 7th Hussars, and living at the Piers Hill Barracks, near l^dinburgh, where his regiment was quartered. -EP fh -a { 327 ) and signed, Brown ulways helping to dry the signatures. Read also in the papers a very nice account given in the "Courant" of what passed yesterday. Many interruptions. The day improving. Crowds flocking into the town, troops marching, bands playing — ^just as when any great event takes place in London. The last time that my dearest Albert ever ap- peared in public was in Edinbiirgh on October 23 [1861], only six weeks before the end of all, when he laid the first stone of the new Post Office, and I looked out of the window to see him drive off in state, or rather in dress, London carriages, and the children went to see the ceremony. It was in Edinburgh, too, that dearest Mama appeared for the last time in public — being with me at the Volunteer Review in i860, which was the first time she had driven with me in public for twenty years ! Dear Arthur could not come to luncheon, as he was on duty. At half-past three we started in three carriages : Beatrice, Leopold, and I in the third ; Brown (in full dress) and Collins behind ; Leopold in the Highland dress; dear Arthur, com- ^- ■ff II ; ' 9S i m i II e- {3- ( 3:S ) I I! manding' tlu; full SoV(!nM<^n's escort of the 7th Ilussars, riMinLT next to me. We drove out to the rii^ht — by Abdey Hill, tlie Regent /uhu/, Pnnees Street, then turning; into St. Andreiv Square, alonij^ George Street to Charlotte Square. Enormous crowds everywhere clustcr- \Vig upon the Calton Hill and round and upon all the hi'j^h monuments. The decorations were beautiful along- the streets and on the houses, Venetian masts with festoons of flag's on either side of Princes Street and St. Ancireiv Street. St. A)idreiv Square also was beautifully decorated, and the few inscriptions were very touching and appropriate. The day was quite fair, though dull (which, however, under the circumstances, was better than a very scorching sun like yesterday) and heavy, and not clear as to distance. The crowd, which was all along most hearty and enthu- siastic, was densest at Charlotte Sqtiare. The Duke of Buccleuch received us, and the Royal Archers kept the ground. We walked up to a dais handsomely arranged, where I stood between Beatrice and Leopold (who were a little behind me). Dear Arthur's sense of duty was so great, that he would not dismount t& -^ Lth- a ( 329 ) and stand near mo, but remained with tlie escort which he commanded, and which waited near our carriage. 'I Mu: hidies and gentlemen, Mr. Cross (Home Secretary), etc., standing behind them; the Committee, with the Duke of Buccleuch at their head, below. A larije enclosure railed off was full of spectators, including all the highest and principal [)eople, the Duchesses of Athole rtiul Roxburghe, the Dowager Lady Ruthven, Sir Thomas l^iddulph, etc. ; and our maids also were there, but I saw none of them. The ceremony began by a short prayer (which was somewhat disturbed by a great noise made by the crowd) offered up by Dr. Milligan, one of the Deans of the Chapel Royal. Then my dearest Albert's Chorale, with words like a National Anthem, was beautifully sung by a choir, accom- panied by the band of the 79th, led by Professor H. Oakeley, Mus. Doc. and Professor of Music in the University of ^^//^^//r;'//. The Duke of Buc- cleuch then presented the Executive Committee, of which he himself is Chairman, and which con- sisL-dofSir J. McNeill, G.C.B., Sir William Gibson Craig, Sir Daniel McNee, Dr. Lyon Playfair, and Mr. W^illiam Walker. After this, the Duke of ; :! I ■'■ I ; I I fa ■^ h f r^ I [&--* --R] ( 30 O ) Buccleiich read a very pretty address, in wliich, besides my beloved Husband, dear IVIama was alluded to, and I read a reply. Mr. Cross then declared that I wished the Statue (an equestrian one) to be unveiled, which was done most successfully, without a hitch. The effect of the monument as a whole., with the groups at the angles of the peciestal, is ' ery good. The Coburg March was played, and its well-known strains* ever bring back dear and sweet memories. Mr. Steell, the sculptor, was presented, and this was followed by the singing of another beautiful chorale, with touching words and music, the latter composed by Professor Oakeley, who is a v/ondcr- ful musician, and plays beautifully on the organ. We then, followed by our own suite, the Committee, and Mr. Steell, walked round the Statue and ex- amined the groups of bas-reliefs. The three sculptors who had executed the groups w^ere also presented. Brown followed us round, having stood behind us the whole time. He was deliijhled with the reception. * This March was always played for dear Albert, and was originally composed for our grand-uncle, Field-Marshal Prince Francis Josias of Saxe-Coburg-Saalfeld. Cl-i- . CT •-— ♦ ^ (33^) We drove back by Sotith Charlotte Street and Princes Street. The horses of the Yeomanry and even some of the Hussars were very restive, and kept pkingin^ and whirhng round upon our horses. One of the Hussars, in particukir, got in between our horses, and nearly caused an accident. We got back by ten minutes to five o'clock. We looked out of the window to see Arthur* ride off, and then I knighted Mr. Steell, who looked very happy. He has now long white hair — such a kind, ijood man ! I also kniad our luncheon, and dear Noble came in and was so good and quiet. At twenty five minutes past one stopped at Keith, where we had stopped in 1872, and where we had then been obliged to take two people into the carriage to open a door through which the maids passed, and box of the carriage, so that when he came to Bahnoral about a fortnight afterwards, it v/as very bad, and he was obliged to take care of it for some days previous to the fresh journey. ■^ tg- ^ Silt A rS-- ft ( 339 ) \v!i!cli li:ul crot fix(xl.* 'I'lie volunteers and a niiniln-r of [X'oplc were waitiiitr for us here. About I\cit!i the corn was sadly destroyed, but around l"-l^^ii it was better. Soon after this ap- peared the lovely hills of the Moi^ay Frith — really beautiful : the land-locked sea so blue, with heavy fields of yellow corn (harvesting going on) in the undulatinij oround, with trees and woods here and there, formed a lovely picture. An old ruined church [Kinloss Addcy) we passed to the right, and Forres at eighteen minutes past two. Then A^aini, l)'ing low on the Frith, but very picturesque with the hills rising around. Near here poor Jane Churchill's sister, Cecilia Brinck man, died on August i 6, which is the cause that dear Jane is not with us now. The heather was so brilliant, and the sea, though very rough, was blue, which had a lovely effect ; but the bracken, and even the trees, have begun to turn here, as well as with us. Good crops about here. We passed near Fort Geoi'ge, which lies very prettily on the shore of the Frith, but where we did not stop, and Culloden. At three minutes past three passed through Inverness, where many people were out, * Vide Expedition to Dunrobin, p. 178. fS- I 9 .-ff 4 1 . i I i I; ' r '"1 ! n \ n 1 h 1, •!! w i'(! \V i a — [b ( 340 ) and went quickly past Beauty. As far as DhipvaU we had travelled precisely the same way in goin;j^ \,o Dunrobinm 1872. At twenty minutes to four reached Diw^zvall, charmin*j^ly situated in a glen, where we stopped, and where there were a good many people waiting for us. Here Sir Kenneth and Lady Mackenzie of Gairloch met us with their three children, two boys and a girl. He is a pleasing courteous person, and wore the kilt. He has an immense property about here, and all round is the Mackenzie conntry. Lady Mackenzie is the elder sister of Lady Gran- ville, and excessively like her. Soon after this we took tea, which was pleasant and refreshing. From Dingwall we turned to the left, and, instead of going on by the main line to Tain, went through the celebrated Strathpeffer, which is extremely pretty — a wooded glen with houses and cottages dotted about ; then on through a wild glen, with hills, partly rocky, but with grass, heather, and bracken, and some trees running up amidst them. The railway goes along above and at some dis- tance from the village, proceeding by way of Stniih Bran and Loch Lnichart, There were occasional showers, with gleams of sunshine always between. g- ■ff as Diunvall ay in goinLj^ lutes to four .1 in a glen, rerci a good c& ^ •ft ( 3-4. ) We left the railway at Achiiashccn, where* we arrived at a quarter to five, and where there are only a small station and two or three littl 'ot- tages. We three hulies gut into the s()c!al)le (Brown and Cannon on liie box), the two gende- men and diree maid ds tolI( owiuL^ in the wa<'i>onette .-^^. and the other servants in " traps." Sir Kenneth Mackenzie came as far as this small station, where tl lere were a Gaelic inscription and some { arrancre f, m lesioons. 11 ie twenty miles tlrive )laids l1i from here, through a desolate, wiki, and perfectly uninhabited coiintr)', was beraitiiul, tliouidi unk^r- lunately we had heavy showers The first [)art winds along Loch Rusijnc (Ciaelic Chroisg), a long narrow loch, with hills very like thore at the Spital and at Glen Mitich rising on either side. Looking back you see the three high peaks of Scoiir-ua-VuilHu. Tlie road continues al(;n<^ an- Other small loch : mid then from the top of the hill you go down a very grand pass called Glen Dochart. flere Loch Marce came in view most beautifully. Very shortly after this you come upon the loch, which is grand and romantic. We changed horses at Kinlochcwc, a small inn, near to which is a shootiu'j- lodae, v/hich was for some time rented -ff '.I I I- ) I il IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) /. ,> '9 l\' fl- -a ( 346 ) curiously tumbled about, grass, fern, and heather growing up their sides, with rocks at the tops — ■ curious serrated, knobbed hills. Passed a small loch called Padnascaily, out of which runs the Kerne IVa/er into anotlier litll'^ loch. Here the road winds along almost like the roads in Switzerland, and is very precipitous on one side, passing above the fme falls of the Kerric, of which there are two or three successions, with fme rocks and wooded banks, throuoh which the river seems to force its way. As Brown truly observed, it was like GleiifesJiie ; only Glenfesliie has no road, but a very narrow path, where one has to ford. Looking back before you come to the falls there is a fine view of Ben Ery. We drove quite down this pass to Kerriesdale^ at the bridge of which is a very pretty spot with wooded hills leading on to Gairloch. We turned, as it was late, and drove back the same way, getting home by half-past seven. It was dull, and grey, and dark, but did not rain till we came back. The Duchess finished readinof Thiers' life. -» — — ►- li... CT^ ( 347 ) Friday, September 14. An awful storm of rain, with wind, all night and a good part of the morning. Breakfasted as y^.'sterday. At length we two went out. and walked for more than a mile on tlie road by which we drove yesterday. The rocky hills, rising above the road, with the fine trees and undergrowth beneath them, remind me of the Lioiis Face, and of the Trossaclis and Loch EH. It cleared, the rain ceased, and the day became fine, but very hot and oppressive. In at twenty minutes to one. The view from my little sitting- room is quite beautiful, Be]i Sleack on one side, and the splendid loch, with the other fine rocky mountains and green island, on the other. One would like to sketch all dav. More telegrams. At half-past three we started in two carriages, we three ladies in one, and the two orentlemen in the wa^r^onette (Brown with us, and Francie with the next). We went just the same way as yesterday, but changed horses at Kerries Bridge, and turning to the left went a short way down a bad road, through a small wood of oaks, to -a tf M -J ■ I ^ ilfi I, ii I I! h § [fl-^ .-£-.- ^ ( 343 ) S///('/i/aij^, wlicrc there is a small cottaateson live. But there is no road heycMid, and we had to turn and (jo back aQain. We hen drove over the brids^e by a lovely wood c( larch and other trees, through which How; a small liver, and ascended a hill, passing" by Floivcrdalc to Gairloch, wdiich is on the sea. It consists of only a very few houses dotted about — the kirk, manse, bank, and on the highest point the hotel. The hills immediately to the right and left of the fme bay are not very high. But high wooded hills are at the back of the Galrloch, which is open to the Atlantic, Here we turned round and drove straight back again the same way, the few in- habitants having come out to greet us. After passing Kernes Bridge, we stopped to take our (made) tea. The afternoon and evening were beautiful. We got home at a quarter to seven. The post comes in at a quarter to four and at half-past nine. The climate is very warm and muggy. Dinner as usual. After dinner played with Beatrice on the piano. -ff 1 IJ 1 a- ^ -ti ( 349 ) Saturday, Scpfcnibcr 15. A fair morning. Up early after a very [rood night. There is a perfect plague of wasps, and we are obliged to have gauze nailed down to keep these insects out when the windows are open, which, as the climate is so hot, they have to be constantly. I had to put on quite thin things again. Decided, after some little doubt, to make an expedition for the day to Torridotiy described as fine and wild. There was a heavy shower before we started. Had been sketching and fainting. At half past twelve we started in the waggonette, with Beatrice, the Duchess (who is delighted with everything), and General Ponsonby and Brown on the box. The day was very fine ; we had only two or three showers, which lasted a few minutes. We drove on to Kifilochewe, where we took fresh horses, and a capital pair of bay ones we had. The sun was brilliant, and lit up the magnificent scenery beautifully. Halfway we crossed the bridge of Gritdie (from which Ben Sleach is seen to advantage), a very pretty rapid ■^ '!: H m rr (■ p M \ a- a ( ;3^ ) ' ' I? burn, with fine fir trees, and a glen runnlnq- up to the riirht — i.e. to the south. At Kiiilochcivc we turned up to tlie right by the stream of Garry\ mountains towering up, as we advanced, Hke mighty giants, and coming one by one and un- expectedly into view. To the left we passed a pretty, small loch, called Loch Clare, which runs back into a wooded glen at the foot of high hills. Sir Ivor Guest has a shooting-lodge near, and you can just see a small house amongst the trees. Soon after this the grand, wild, savage-look- ing, but most beautiful and picturesque Glen of Torridon opened upon us, with the dark mural precipices of that most extraordinary mountain Ben Liughacli, which the people pronounce Li.i- rac/i. We were quite amazed as we drove below it. The mountains here rise so abruptly from their base that they seem much higher than our Aberdeenshire mointains, although, excepting Den Sleach (3,216 feet) and a few others, the hills are not of any remarkable height, and the level of the country or land itself is barely a hundred feet above the sea, whereas Balmoj'al is eight hundred feet to begin with. All the hills about Loch Marce and this glen, and elsewhere in this neisrhbour- CQ- ■ff a B- ( 35> ) hood, are very serrated and rocky. Ben Liarach is most peculiar from its being so dark, and the rocks like terraces one above the other, or like fortifications and pillars — most curious ; the ^^len itself is very flat, and the mountains rise very abrupdy on either side. There were two cottages (in one of which lived a keeper), a few cattk?, and a great many cut peats. We came to the Upper Loch Torrid on ^ which is almost landlocked and very pretty. In the distance the hills of Skye were seen. Village there really is none, and the inn is merely a small, one-storied, '* harled" house, with small windows. We drove beyond the habitations to a turn where we could not be overlooked, and scrambled up a bank, where we seated ourselves, and at twenty minutes to three took our luncheon with good appetite. The air off the mountains and the sea was delicious, and not rnuggy. We two remained sketching, for the view was beautiful. To the right were the hills of Skye^ rising above the lower purple ones which closed in the loch. To the south, nearly opposite to where I sat, was Applecross (formerly Mackenzie property), which now belongs to Lord Middleton, and the high ft i'l I: ^ If \ If: i !l ! I 'I ('>] ^:r I ■ *l If ' \i n ' : |, ! [£H 4i { /» »• o ) ■^' mountains of /)r;/ Ilcc/^lish and Ben DauipJi, with, in the distancv; northwards, the \vliit(! | ;'aks of Inn IJarac/i. We were nearly an hour sittin;^ there, and we j^ot down unwillini;ly, as it was so fine and such a wild uncivilised spot, like the iiw*\ (;f the workl. There was a school, standini,^ detaclied by itself, which had been lately built. The pr()[)erty here belongs to a Mr. Darroch, whose- two little bo)s rode past us twice with a orooni. An old man, very tottery, passed where I was skctchinij^, and I asked the Duchess of Rox- burghe to si)eak to him ; he seemed strange, said he had come from Am rica, and was going to EiiQ^land. and thought Torridon very ugly ! We walked along, the people came out to see us, and we went into a little merchant's shop, where we all bought some trifles — ^just such a "shoppie" as old Edmonstons, and the poor man was so nervous he threw almost everything down. I got some very good comforters, two little woven woollen shawls, and a very nice cloak. We had spoken to a w^oman before, but she could not understand us, only knowing Gaelic, and had to ask another younger woman to help. A little farther off the road, and more on the J irfW*i^-v«'.«A'>.P.fliwY v^.:>««MO'^ rri I Dauiph, \\.(.\ 1 (!aks iir sittini; IS it was , like the stand ill!.;" ely built. Darroch, :e with a cd where s of Rox- mge, said ij^oing to y! it to see It's shop, t such a ooor man ng- down. ;le woven We had :ould not d had to e on the •a -ff ■& ( 353 ) slope of the hill, was a row of five or six wretched hovels, before which stood bareleogcd and very ill- clad children, and [)oor women literally squattint on the ground. The people cheered us and seemed very much pleased. Hardly any one ever comes here. We had now to get into the carriage, and one of the horses was a little restive ; but we soon started off all right, much interested by our ad- ventures. We admired the splendid mountain again on our way back, and enjoyed our expedi- tion very much. One very short shower we had, before coming to Kinlocheive, where we again changed horses, and were home at our nice little house by nearly seven, when Beatrice and I had some welcome tea. Later our usual dinner ; then Beatrice played, and we afterwards played together. -a Sunday, Scpfciuher i6. A moct beautiful bright morning, with a slight cloud overhanging Ben Sleach, which is very often not clear at the top. There was a heavy shower, which came on quite unexpectedly. We walked out at half past eleven, and after some three A A j:3 1*1 1 ( * li 'i I I 5li 1^1 .'■' 1^ f-^ I \: .1 .1:: I'' ii ^ 1 lis >'i ,l!l. a ^ -a ( 354 ) hundred yards turned up a path to the right, off the road to Kiiilochewe, under oak and rowan trees, through very wet grass and fern, to where stood two very poor-looking low cottages. We looked into one, out of which came a tidy-looking woman, but who could hardly understand or speak a word of English. We then looked into the second, where Baldry lodged ; it was wet and muddy, almost to the door, and the inside very low and close, but tidy. The *' gudewife " came up and spoke to us, also like a foreigner, with difficulty. She was a nice, tidy-looking woman, and gave her name as Mrs. McRa,^, and the place is called ''Slio7'achr She knew us — at least Brown told her it was the " Bhan Righ " with her daughter, and gave her some money. We returned as we had come, and went on some way in the other direction, coming in at twenty minutes to one. Read prayers, etc. There is no kirk nearer than Kinlochewe and Gairlock, and people had been seen passing on foot as early as half-past seven to Gairloch. At half-past four Beatrice, the Duchess of Roxburghe, and I started in a four-oared gig, steered by Hormsby the land- lord, a very nice, quiet, youngish man, and rowed --S n c& ^ ( 355 ) -^ to the /s/e of Marce {'' Eilan ULiree''), which is not visible from the house, being- concealed by some of the larger islands. Contrary to what is stated in the Guidi, it is the smallest of them. It was delightful rowing through these wooded and rocky islands, with the blue, calm loch — not another sound but the oars — the lovely blue and purp^T, distant hills on the one side, and the splendid peaks of Ben Sleach and its surrounding mountains on the other. The boat was pushed on shore, and we scrambled out and walked throuq^h the tanoled underwood and thicket of oak, holly, birch, ash, beech, etc., which covers the islet, to the well, now nearly dry which is said to be celebrated for the cure of insanity. An old tree stands close to it, and into the bark of this it is the custom, from time immemorial, for every one who goes there to insert with a hammer a copper coin, as a sort of offering to the saint who lived there in the eighth century, called Saint Maolruabh or Mulroy. The saint died near Applecross in 722, and is said to have rested under a rock, which is sl'll shown, close to Torridon. Some say that the name of Maree w^as derived from " Mulroy!' others A A 3 ■^ 3 ■I 1, '■V m ;i \ it I I cfi-^" a ( 35'^ ) from " Mary^ We hammered some pennies into the tree, to the branches of which there are also rags and ribbons tied. We then went on to where there are some old grave-stones : two belonged to the tomb of a Norwegian or Danish princess, about whose untimely death there is a romantic story. There are also modern graves, and only eight years ago one of the family of the McLeans was buried there, tlic island being their buryir.g- place. The remains of the old wall of the monastery are still to be seen. The island is barely a quarter of a mile across at the widest part, an«^ *^ot above half a mile in circumference. Some oi • lareer islands have red deer on them. We walked aioiig the beach and picked up stones, then rowed back as we had come. It took about twenty minutes. Four very respectable-looking men (one a very good-looking young farmer) rowed the boat. After landing, we got into the waggon- ette and drove to a bridge just beyond where the trees cease on the Gairloch Road, about two miles from the hotel. Here we first took our tea, and then got out and scrambled up a steep bank to look at a waterfall, a pretty one, but very inferior to those in our neighbourhood at Bal II r:i_- •ff s- t ( 357 ) -E moral ; wr.lkcd down again and drove borne by a qiiarter-i)ast seven. Readinq: ; writino. Beatrice's room is a vcrv pretty one, but very hot, being over the kitchen. Brown's, just oi)posite, also very nice and not hot, but smaller. After dinner the Duchess of Rox- burghe read a little out of the newspapers. Saw Sir William Jenner. Monday, September 17. A splendid bright morning, like July! Have had such good nights since we came, and my own comfortable bed. Sketche ' and painted after breakfast. At ten minutes past eleven walked cut with Beatrice the same way as yesterday, and turned up to the right and looked at the farm, where the horses for the coach are kept. This coach is like a great break, and is generally full of people ; we met it each morning when out walking. We then went on past Talladalc, where lives the old man to whom we spoke on Thursday, and whom we saw^ orct off the coach this mornin^x- having been to GairlocJi for church, of which he is an elder. Here three or four very poorly dressed bairns were standing and sitting about, and we -i I ' ■ 5; 5 i': ! i a '& ( 35R ) gave them biscuits and sandwiches out of the luncheon-box. The midges are dreadful, and you cannot stand for a moment without being stung. In at twenty minutes to one. I remained sketching the lovely views from the windows in the dining- room, and then sketched the beautiful mountain also. After luncheon some doubt as to what should be done, but decided not to go to Pool Ewe, beyond Gairloch, but on to Kerries Bridge to meet the good people who had asked permission to come over from Stornoivay, in the Isle of Lewis, to see " their beloved Oueen." Drew a^ain. At ten minutes past four we two and the Duchess of Roxburghe started in the waggonette, General Ponsonby and Brown on the box. We went by the same pretty winding road ; but the Kerrie Falls were not nearly so full as on Friday after the heavy rain. As we approached Kerries Bridge, we saw a number of people standing on the road, and we drew up to where they were and stopped the car- riage. General Ponsonby presented the minister, Mr. Greenfield, who had come over with them. They sang " God save the Queen " with most ■ffj »— J — ^ J mountain { 359 ) loyal warmth ; and their friendly faces and ring- ing cheers, when we arrived and when we left, were very gratifying. It took them three hours to come over, and they were going straight back. There were two himdred and fifty of them of all classes, from the very well dressed down to the poorest, and many fishermen amongst them. We met many of these on Saturday coming back from having sold their fish, and also on the coaches. As we returned, we met the coach where there was only just room to pass. We stopped after we had got up to the top of the hill, overlooking the falls, and took our tea (already made, and brought with us), but were much molested by midges. We drove to above Slaiterdale, where there is such a splendid view of the loch and of Bc7i Slcach ; and the hills looked so beautifully pink. We walked on down to the small waterfall which we visited yes- terday, and then drove home (General Ponsonby having walked back) by half-past seven. Reading and writing. Continued telegrams. General Pon- sonby and Sir William Jenner dined also with us. Got a few trifles from Gairloch, though very few were to be had, to give as souvenirs to my ^ a ff i ! M-' ^ I '1 I I.' .6n [& a ( 360 ) good people. Brown's leof. thoiiiT^h ho had to stand so much, did not hurt him, which I was thanklul for, and he has waiLed at all our meals, made my coffee in the morning, etc. I was sorry it was our last night here, and would have liked to stay two or three days longer ; but dear Arthur has been, since Saturday, at Balvwral^ and he must leave again on the 29th. Have enjoyed this beautlliil spot and glcrious scenery very much. The Utile house was cozy and very quiet, and there were no constant interruptions as at heme. Only dear Beatrice suffered much from rheumatism, which was very vexatious. Nearly opposite is a INlr. Banks's place, called Letter Eive^ which he lets. Tiicsday, September 18. A wet, misty morning, no hills whatever to be seen. Got up early and breakfasted at half-past eight, and at a quarter to nine we left with regret our nice cozy little hot^l at Loch Maree, which I hope I may some day see again. Changed horses at I{^iiilocheive. The beautiful scenery was much obscured, but it got better as we went on, though it was not a really fine day. At a little before t& .-ff a c& ( 361 ) lialf-past eleven we reached Achuashccn, where Mr. (now Sir Alexander) Matheson, M.P. (who is chairman of the railway company, and has property farther north), met us. Here we got into the train, and went on without stopping to Diui^ivall ; StrathpcJJer, and Castle Leoci, which belongs to the Duchess of Sutherland, partly hid- den among trees, looked very pretty. The lochs of Luichart and Garve are most picturesque. We stopped at Dingzoall, and Keith, and Dyce [unc- tion as before. We had our luncheon at one o'clock, before coming to Keith, and tf^a after the Dyce Jtmction. Dear Noble was so good on the railway, and also at Loch Maree, where he came to our meals ; but he was lost without his companions. We reached Ballater at six. A very t!n*eaten- ing evening. Such dark, heavy clouds, and the air much lijT^hter than 2X Loch Maree. We reached Balmoral at a quarter to seven. Dear Ardiur received us downstairs, and came up with us and stayed a little while with me. He had been out deer-stalking these two days, but got nothing. ■^ ■ff V \ \ \\\\ ti S!l« ! r ( 362 ) t'] Visit to Broxmoutii. !^ ^ \ Friday, August 2iy 1S78. Had to dine at half-past five. At six o'clock, with much regret, left dear 0.^b?rne, with Beatrice and Leopold, and embarked on board the " Alberta " at Trinity Pier. We had a delightful passage, but the weather looked very threatening behind us. Passing close to the "Osborne," we saw Bertie, Allx, the boys, and the King of Denmark standing on the paddle-box. As we steamed across we saw the poor " Eurydice " lying close off what is called ^^ No Mans Land''' as we had seen her the dav of the Review, in fearful contrast to the beautiful fleet ! We at once entered the railway train ; poor Sir J. Garvock (who has resigned) was too ill to appear. We stopped at Banbury for re- freshments, and I lay down after eleven o'clock. At Carlisle (at five or six in the morning) Lord k tf 1 we saw a — •nr: ^ ( 363 ) Bridport, Harriet Phipps, and Mary Lascelles (who had joined at Banbury)^ Fraulcin Bauer, and two of my maids left us to go to Bahnoral, while Janie Ely, General Ponsonby, Sir W. Jenner, Mr. Yorke, Brown, Emilie, Annie, and three foot- men went on with us to BroxmoiUh, Saturday, August 23. Had not a very good night, and was suffering from a rather stiff shoulder. It was a very wet morning. At Dzinbar, which we reached at a quarter to nine (where the station was very prettily decorated), were the Duke and Duchess of Roxburghe, the Grant-Sutties, the Provost, and Lord Haddington, Lord- Lieutenant of the county. We got into one of my closed landaus — Beatrice, Leopold, the Duchess of Roxburghe, and I — the others following, and drove through a small portion oi D^inbar^ Lord Haddington riding to BroxDumth, about a mile and a quarter from Dunbar. People all along the road, arches and decorations on the fev/ cottages, and very loyal greetings. ■ff ii ' [ \ i I \ n:\ I !l t 1 f 1; i a ( 364 ) The park is fine, with noMc trees and avenues. It is only a quarter of a mile from the sea, which we could see dimly as we drove from Dunbar. The house is an unpretending^ one, the exterior something like Clareniont, only not so handsome, and without any steps leading up to the entrance. It has been added to at different times, and was much improved and furnished by the Duke's mother, who lived there. It is built on a slope ; consequently on one side there is a story more thnn on the other. The house is entered by a small hall, beyond which is a narrow corridor with windows on one side and doors on the other. Turning- to the left and going straight on, we came to my sitting-room (the Duchess's ov.m sitting-room), with bow-windows down to the ground, and very com- fortably arranged. Next to it, but not opening into it was Beatrice's sitting-room, a very hand- somely furnished room — in fact, the drawing-room. On the other side of the hall is the dinin':>-room — very nice and well furnished, but not large. Just opposite Beatrice's room is the staircase, also not large, and below it you turn to where Leopold had a room. The staircase lands on a corridor like the lower one. My bedroom is just over the t& .»— I — t^ ^ a — ^ ( 0"3 ) sittino^-room, with a nice little dressinof-room to the ri_G^ht next to it (the Duchess's room). Next to the bedroom on the other side my two maids' rooms, then Janie Ely's, and beyond Bratrlce;'s, and the maids' at the end ; just outside the corri- dor, Brown's. All most comfortable. We came down almost directly ao-ain, and had (we three) an excellent breakfast in the dining-room. I'rown waited on us with a footman, Cannon, who had oone on before. Charlie Thomson, Lock wood, and Shorter (a new footman) came with us. As it was raining I did not go out, but soon afterwards went upstairs. After dressing, came down and rested, and read and wrote. Saw Lady Susan Suttie and her two very pretty daughters, Harriet (Haddie), like Susan Dalrymple, only much darker. Rested on the sofa, and while there received the very startling and distressing account of dear Madame Van de Weyer's death, which atifected me much. It came direct and was given me straight, there being no telegraph in the house. At home this would not have hap- pened. Sent to tell Brown, who was very much shocked. She was not, of course, the friend her beloved ■^ ff 1 rM 1 I ■, ; ■ii c:r ( 36G ) and honoured liusbaiid was ; but we saw so much of her with him ever since 1840, and so much of them both when they were at Abcrgcldie in 1867, 1 868, and 1 8 70. They were always most kind to us and to our children, who grew up with theirs; and when my great sorrow came, who was kinder and more ready to help than dear M. Van de Weyer ? Then, after his and his poor son Albert's death, she talked so openly to me, and I tried to comfort her. Dear pretty Neiv Lodge,^ kept just as he left it, was ever a pleasure for us to go to, as there was still a sort of reflected light from former times, when he charmed every one. To feel that for us it is gone for ever is dreadful, and upset me very much. Another link with the past gone! — with my beloved one, with dearest Uncle Leopold, and with Belgium \ I feel ever more and more alone! Poor Louise Van de Weyer, who has been everything to her mother since Albert's death, and Nellie, how I feel for them! It was only on the 1 6th that their sister Alice was married to the youngest brother of poor Victoria's husband, Mr. Brand. I had tea with Beatrice, and at a quarter-past * It is close to Windsor. ^ cg^.- ■^ a- -Bi [uarter-past ( i^7 ) five, tlie weather haviiiL;' cleared, drove out with her, the Duke of Roxljur^he, aud Leopold ; Lady Ely, the Duke, General Ponsonby, and Mr. Yorki; in the second carriage, and Lord Haddington on horseback in his uniform. We drove to and through DiDiLar, escorted by the Easi Lothian Yeomanry. The town was beautifully decorated and admirably kept. There were triumphal arches, and many very kind inscriptions. We tinT»ed into the park in front of the house, formerly occupied by the Lord Lauderdale of that day, facing the old Castle of Dunbar (of which very little remains) to which Queen Mary was carried as a prisoner by Bothwell after the murder of Darnley, and where lies the harbour — a very small one. Thence past the old watch-tower hill, called Knockcuhair, where some gipsies — in fact, the "gipsy queen" — from Novivood had encamped ; and where we saw several women, very dark and rather hand- some and well dressed, standing close to the wall. On through the small villages of Bclhavcn and West Barns by the paper mills, a large and rather handsome building, turning from the high road to the west lodge of Biel, Lady Mary Nisbet Hamil- 1^ ^a # f •i 1 I a I ( 368 ') ton's (dear Lady Augusta Stanley's elder sister) and past the house (a dull-looking stone one, but the park is fine), and by Belton, ]\Ir. Baird Hay's, to Broxburn. Home by seven. There was a thick fog (or " haar," as they call it in Scotland) from the sea, which obscured all the distance, with occasionally some rain, but nothing to signify. Only ourselves, the Duke and Duchess, and Janie Ely to dinner, in the same dining room. One of the Duke's people attended, b«"sides Brown and one of our footmen. Went to my room soon after. Wrote a letter, but went early to bed — by twelve o'clock. ft « M Sunday, August 25. A fine hot morning. After breakfast, walked with Beatrice down under the trees to the left, along a broad walk next to the Broxburn, on to the end of the walk which led to the garden wall', on which roses were growing, and which is quite on the sea, which was of a deep blue. The rocks are very bad for boats. There is a walk along the top of the rocks that overhang the sea — the Links, This road poes on to Dtinbar. which, witli its fine Cg_. -ff IkL^ '. '■■aV CJ ( 3C9 ) ^ chiircli that stanJs so high as to be a landmark, is well seen from here. We walked back again, and I ScU out near the house on the grass, under one of the small canopies which we had brought with us, and signed papers and wrote. At twelve there was service in the dining-room, performed by Mr. Buchanan of Dunbar ^ who had been for some little time tutor to Lord Charles Ker. Ivcatrice, Janie Ely, the Duke and Duchess, General Ponsonby, Mr. Yorke, and the Duke's upper servants were present. It was very well performed. Afterwards wrote and rested. Se- lected presents for the servants in the house, and things from Diuibar for my people. At a quarter-past five, after tea, drove out with Beatrice, the Duchess, and Janie Ely, in the landau and four. The afternoon very bright and fine. We drove on towards England, in the oppo- site direction from yesterday's drive and parallel to the sea, though well inland. The sea of a deep blue, but a haze so dense that the distance could hardly be seen. We drove past Baring Hill (Sir William Miller's) to Dujiglass (Sir Basil Hall's), a most beautiful place with splendid trees, firs like those near ih^ Belvidere in Windsor Park, t • » 1 i 1 I ■ ii I'l I I i s f! ' I J! ii i ■'I Lir ( 370 ) sycamores, beech, oak, etc. The road passes above a deep ravine, it the bottom of which flows the Brox, and past the ruins of an old abbey or castle. The house itself (at the door of which we stopped for a few minutes to speak to Sir Basil and Lady Hall) is a laro^e, rather dreary-looking- stone house with columns. It must formerly have belonged to the Home family. The distance was so hazy that, as we drove there, we could with great diffi- culty faintly discern St. Abb's Heaf/* and the point on the Wolf's Craig mentioned in the " Bride of Lammermoor." Coming back we took a long- round inland, down steepish hills, through the very picturesque villages of Brankcston and Innerivick. Home at half-past seven. Dinner as yesterday with the Duke and Duchess of Roxburghe, with the addition of Lord Haddington and Genera! Ponsonby. Lord Haddington's father (who was fo^ a short time one of my lords in waiting, but never took a waiting) was brother to the late beautiful Marchioness of Breadalbane (wife of my dear old Lord Breadalbane), to the present Dowager Lady Aberdeen, to the late Lady * Belonging to Mr. Home Drummond Moray of Blair Drummond and Abercairny. 4- t] # r" --Qj ( Z7^ ) Pol.vart^, and the present D )\viger Lady Ash- hnrnham. After diiiner the other g^entlemen were pre- sented, incuKrin'^T^ Mr. Buchanan, who seems a very nice person. Then went to my room, and Janle Ely stayed with me a short while. Monday, Aiigm^t 26. Again this dear and blessed anniversary returns, and again without my beloved blessed One! But he Is ever with me in spirit. When I came down to breakfast, I ijave Beatrice a mounted enamelled photograph o{ our dear Mausoleum, and a silver belt of Montenegrin workmanship. After breakfast I gave my faith- ful Brown an oxidised silver biscuit-box, and some onyx studs. He was greatly pleased with the former, and the tears came to his e}es, and he said "It Is too much." God knows, it is not, for one so devoted and faithful. I gave my maids also trifles from Dunbar \ and to Janie Ely, the gentlemen, and the servants a trifle each. In remem- brance of the dear day and of the place. Walked out at half-past ten with Beatrice and ^ 8^7 ff t ! • rfi L^ i f ) ! ( 3/2 ) the Duchess to the very fine kitchen-garden, and into the splendid hothouse where they have ma;^- nificent grapes. The peaches are also beautiki!. From here we walked again along the burnside to the sea, the Duchess's pretty and very amiable collie (smaller than Noble, but with a very hand some head), Rex, g'oing with us. We looked at the " Lord Warden" (Captain Freemantle) which arrived yesterday from SpitJiead, where we saw her in the Fleet. Sh j had been guardship last year. There is a pretty view from this walk to the sea over a small lake, with trees, beyond which Diinlar is seen in the distance. Then I sat out in the garden and wrote. After that, when Beatrice re- turned from a walk near the sea with the Duchess, I went to look at the gravestone of Sir William Douglas, which is quite concealed amongst the bushes near the lawn, The battle oi Dunbar took place (September 3, 1650) close to BroxmoiUh, and Sir Walter Scott says Cromwell's camp was in the park ; but this is doubtful, as it is described as on the north of the Broxburn. Leslie's camp was on Donne Hill, conspicuous for miles round. When the Scottish army left their strong position on the r^-. rliTW^lBi ■ It iTi I ^—\ — 13 [fi- ft ( 373 ) hill, they came to the low ground near the park wall. Cromwell is said to have stood on the hillock where the tower in the grounds has been built, and the battle must have been fought close to the present park gate. I afterwards planted a deodara on the lawn, in the presence of the Duke and Duchess. Indoors near one o'clock. Directly after our usual luncheon we saw Lad)' Susan Suttie with her two youngest ch!kl:-en — Victoria, eleven years, and a boy of nine — and afterwards Lortl an ' Lady Downiont and their two fine children — the eldest, Margaret, three, and the youngest, Victoria, nine moiitlis. The boy did not come. At half-past three started with Beatrice, Leopold, and the Dtichess in the landau and four, the Duke, Lady Ely, General Ponsonby, and ]\lr. Yorke going in the second carriage, and Lord Maddington riding the whole way. We drove through tlie west part of Dunbar, which was very lull, and where we vvere literally pelted with small nosegays, till the carriage was full of them, by a number of young ladies and girls ; then on for some distance past the village oi Be! haven, Knoch- inJale Hill, where were stationed, in their best ■ff I; ! ^ li ■ 1 a -a ■ { 374 ) attire, the queen of the gipsies, an oldish woman with a yellow handkerchief on her head, and a )oungish, very dark, and truly gipsy-like woman in velvet antl a red shawl, and another woman. The queen is a thorough gipsy, with a scarlet cloak and yellow handkerchief round her hea 1. Men in red hunting coats, all very dark, and all stand- ing on a platform here, bowed and waved their handkerchiefs. It was the English queen of ihc gipsies from Norzvoody and not the Scottish border one. We next passed the paper mills, where there were many people, as indeed there were at every little village and in every direction. We turiied to the right, leaving the Traprain Law, a pro- minent hill, to the left, crossed the Tyne, and entered the really beautiful park of TymuoJiani — Lord Haddington's. More splendid trees and avenues of beech and sycamore, and one very high holly hedge. The drive under the avenues is very fine, and at the end of them you see the sea (we could, however, see it but faintly because of the haze). We passed close to the house, a handsome one, half Elizabethan, with small Scotch towers, and a very pretty terrace garden, but did 4J sh woman ^ad, and a ke woiium n" woman, arlet cloak :a 1. Men all stand- .ivcd tlicir -^en of the ;ish border here there •e at every A^e turPied nu^ a pro- Ty/iey and nil o ham — trees and one very e avenues ou see the ly because t house, a lall Scotch n, but did L ! a- ( ir:^ ) not get out. Driving on through the park, which reminded me of Windsor and Windsor Forest, we again came upon the high road and passed by Wkite/cirky a very fine old church, where numbers of people were assembled, and very soon after we saw through the haze the high hill of North Der- ivick LazOy looking as though it rose up out of the sea, and another turn or two brought us to Ta)i- tallon, which is close to and overhangs the sea. We drove along the grass to the old ruins, which are very extensive. Sir Hew Dalrymple, to whom it belongs, received us, and took us over the old remains of the moat, includincr the old gateway, on which the royal standard had been hoisted. Lady Dalrymple (a Miss Arkwright) received us. No one else was there but Sir David Baird, who had joined us on the way on horseback. Sir Hew Dalr)'mple showed me about the ruins of this very ancient castle, the stronghold of the Douglases. It belonged once to the Earl of Angus, second husband to Queen Margaret (wife of James IV.). and v.'as fmally taken by the Covenanters. It was unfortunately so hazy that we could not distinguish the Bass Rock, though usually it is •a I i ^ ^ \ a -a I ( 376 ) quite distinctly seen, being so near ; and all the fine surrounding coast was quite invisible. There was a telescope, but we could see nothing through it ; it was, besides, placed too low. Seated on sofas near the ledge of the rock, we had some tea, and the scene was extremely wild. After this we left, being a good deal hurried to get back (as it was already past six), and returned partly the same way, by Buining Wood, also belonging to Lord Haddington (which reminds one of Wi7idso7' Forest), but which we could not drive through, through Tyningham village to Bellowford, where the cross road turned off. This brought us sooner back, and we reached Broxniout/i by twenty-five minutes to eight. Lord Haddington riding the whole way. We dined at half-past eight, only the Duke and Duchess of Roxburghe with ourselves. At ten or eleven o'clock we left Broxviouth with regret, as we had spent a most pleasant time there. We went in the same carriage (a landau), the Duchess of Roxburghe with us, and were driven by the same horses which had been out each day, including this day's long drive, the postilion Thomson riding admirably. Dunbar "5 [fl -a ( zn ) was very prettily illuminated, and the paper mills also. We took leave of the kind Duke* and Duchess with real regret, having enjoyed our visit gready. All had gone off so well. * He died April 23, 1879. ■I ^ ■1 i [& ■^ ( 378 ) DiCATH OF Sir Thomas BiDDULnr, at Acer- GEL.DiE Mains, SEiTLMUhR 28, 1878. ■i lVcd:iesday, September 25, 1S78. At twenty minutes to five drove in the waggon- ette with the Duchess of Roxburghe and Harriet Phipps to the Glen Gelder Shield and haJ tea "here; and then drove to Abcrgildic Mams, where Sir Thomas Biddulph had been very ill for a week. We got out, and I went upstairs and saw Mary (Lady) Biddulph. Sir William Jenncr came into the drawing-room, and said Sir Thomas would like to see me. I went to his room with Sir William, and found Sir Thomas in bed, much the same as when 1 saw him on Saturday, looking very ill, but able to speak quite loud. He said " I am very bad ! " I stood looking at him, and took his hand, and he said, " You are very kind ._j:3 s— ( 379 ) to me," and I answered, pressini^^ liis hand, " You have always been very kind to j;/c\' 1 said I would come acrain, and left the room. a Saturday, Scpiciubo' 2 8, 18 78. At eleven o'clock started off with Beatrice for Abcrgeldie Mains to inquire after Sir Thomas. I went upstairs, and Blake, the former nurse, came in much distressed, sayim^ how ill he was. Then she asked if I would like to look at him, v.hich I did from the door. We (Beatrice and I) were both much upset. We left, intending to re- turn in the afternoon, and got back to Balmoral by a quarter to twelve. Sat writing in the garden - cottage. While I was writing, at a quarter to one Brown came round with a note in his hand, cr)'- ing, and said " It's all over!" It was from Sir William, saying that dear "Sir Thomas passed away at twenty minutes past twelve. Lady Biddulph as well as the children were with him to the last." We were so distressed tnat we had not remained at the house, and Brown so vexed and so kind and feelinu;-. Dreadful ! Such a loss ! Dear Sir Thomas v;as such an excellent, honest, . ^- I [fi — -fh i& ( 380 ) uprlfT^ht, wonderfully unselfish and disinterested man — so devoted to me and mine. Under a somewhat undemonstrative exterior, he was the kindest and most tender-hearted of men. Mow terrible Is this loss for his poor, poor wife and the children who adored him ! Thursday, October '^y 1878." A most lovely, almost summer day, and very warm. At a quarter-past ten drove with Bea- trice, the Duchess of Roxburghe, and Lady Ely (Harriet Phipps, Fraulein Bauer, and the gentle- men having gone on before), to Abergeldie Mains. V/e got out and went into the dining-room, where the coffin was placed. Poor Mary Biddulph and her two children received us there. Her brother, Captain Conway Seymour, l ..d the female servants, ourselves, and the ladies were present. No men came into the room ; they remained in the hall, the door being left open. Mr. Campbell came in a few minutes afterwards, and performed a short but very impressive service, just reading a few verses from Scripture, and offering up a beautiful prayer. The coffin left the house directly after, ^ a- ( 3S1 ) followed by Captain Conway Seymour. IVrtie and his three orondemen, Lord Brid[)ort, General Ponsonby, Sir William Jcnner, and Dr. Profeit * fcjllovved in carriacjes to Ballatcr, as also did Lord Macduff and Colonel Farquharson. We sat a little while with poor Mary, and then left. Lady P)iddulph and her children went in the same train with the honoured remains of her dear husband to Windsor, • My Commissioner since November 1875 ; an excellent rnan, universally beloved. ■ft \ '1 I f 1 \\ ^ *ii Mit^ >■'■■! rw^m M ^ m . a ^ ti ( 3S2 ) Memorial Cru'ss to the Prixcess Alice, Gramj Duchess oe Hesse. Balmoral^ May 22, 1879. We arrived at Dalmoral 2i\. a quarter-past .hree. At a quarter to six walked with Beatrice to look at the Cross which I have now put up to my darling Alice. It is In Aberdeenshire granite, twelve feet three inches high. It is beautiful. The inscription is : — TO THE DEAR MEMORY OF ATJCE, GRAND DUCHE^'S OF HESSE, I'rincess of Great Britain and Ireland, Born April 25, 1843, Died De*:. 14, 1S7S, THIS IS ERECTED BY HER SORROWING MOTHER QUEEN VICTORIA. • Tier name shall live, though now she is no more," ' U a -f: ( 3S3 ) We then walked on to Donald Stewart's, where we went in ; thence down to Grant's. In both places they were quite overcome to see us after darling Alice's loss, and poor Grant began sobbing and could not come into the room where we were.* The arrival at Balvioral to-day was most sad. Everything came before me — the dreadful anxiety about little Ernie,f the sorrow about dear little May.J and the anxiety about the others. And, to crown all, the thought of darling Alice gone, and, after her, dear little Waldie.^ • Grant died November 17, 1878, in his 70th ycnr, at Robrec, close to Balmoral, where he had lived since 1875, when he was pensioned, and where we went very often to see him. I visited him almost daily during the last days of his life, and was present at the funeral service at his house (No- vember 21). He is buried in the churchyard at Braemar. t Alice's son, who, with four of his sisters and his father, was lying ill of diphtheria in November. X Dear Alice's youngest child, who died of diphtheria November 16, 1878. We received the news while we were at Balmoral. § Prince Waldemar, the Crown Princess of Germany's third and youngest son, who died of diphtheria on March 27 of this year. !ii |! IB- -ff a- - — a ( 3S4 ) Death of the Prixce Imterial. June 1879, Balmoral Castle, Thitrsaay, June 19, 1879. At twenty minutes to eleven Brown knocked and came in, and said tliere was bad news ; and when I, in alarm, asked what, he replied, " The young French Prince is killed • " and when I could not take it in, and asked several times what it meant, Beatrice, who then came in with the telegram in her hand, said, " Oh ! the Prince Imperial is killed!" I feel a sort of thrill of horror now while I write the words. I put my hands to my head and cried o^.t, " No, no ! it cannot, cannot be true ! It can't be ! " And then dear Beatrice, who was crying very much, as I did too, gave me the annexed tele- gram irom Lady Frere : — tfi «^ . . .- .-1 -rf^ # [& ■a { 385 ) Govern jpie?tt House, Cape Town^ June 19, 1879. To General Sir Henry Ponsonby, Balmoral Castle. — For the Information of Her Majesty the Queen. The melancholj^ tidings have been telegraphed from Natal, that the Prince Imperial, when out on a re- conna'ssance from Colonel Wood's camp on the ist ^:>{ June, was killed by a number of Zulus concealed in a field in which the Prince Imperial and his party had dismounted to rest and feed their horses. No official particulars yet received by me. The Prince Imperial's body found and buried with full military honours at Camp Itclezi, and after being embalmed will be con- veyed to England. This precedes the press telegrams by oiie hour. I have sent to Lord Sydney to beg him, if possible, to break the sad intelligence to the Empress before the press telegrams arrive. To die in such an awful, horrible way ! Poor, poor dear Empress ! her only, only child — her all gone I And such a real misfortune I I was quite beside myself ; and both of us have hardly had another thought since. We sent for Janie Ely, who was in the house when he was born, and was so devoted to him ; and he was so good ! Oh ! it is too, too awful ! The more one thinks of It, aie worse it is ! I was i|^ V C&-. — c c ^ I & i >^^^ ) In t!u' c'twtc'st ilistit'ss. rMi>\vn si> ill'.tirsst'il : oviMN ot\c* i]uitc* sluniu\l. Cu>t to hcA \c\y \mc ; it was dawiunii! aiul littU* sK'cp ilivl I «'('t. /• > .'..'..' r, '■ ,'; V.'' ?l>. II.\vl .1 \\\k\, vc^{]c'\^ \y'\yht, h.iunli'vl h\ thi-. .iwtiil CX'cMll. ScHMHu; ihosC lu>liul /'llhlS vv>ll'.t,ll\ll\ lulolC nu\ M\d thinkim; o( ihc. |Hu>f I'lnpit'ss. \vlu> du\ uoi vol know it. Was up in jmh)i1 time M\ .uw^ssion ikn , tojtN t\Vi> \o.ns a\\o ; l>»it no thoui^ht ot it in piosimuo ot this liii-luhil 0\ cMlt. 1 Lul wrltttMi many t(*loi>ran\s last iits^ht. C>i\" iMint* trom l.oiil S\iln('N\ sa\ini» he was t'oii\;' t.lown i\u"l\ this iiu>rnir.i; lo Imwk tliis th<\hllnl lunvs to tiu^ |>oi>r atthctrcl mothtr. I low thcul fill ! Rt\'rivo(.l ilisii ("SSOl 1 aiul honiluul toloi'iani? from si>nir ot iii)- rliiklicn. llcaitl l)y tclci^ram also tVoin Sir Statloi\l Norllut)to that tlu* news anivod in tho lloiist' ot Connnons ; that iniich s\inpathy had hccn shown. It camt* to Colonel St.mloy. 'roU<;ia;^luil to many. Tackcvl m)- boxos with Hrown. Was so horii- ticd, Alwa}s, at /ut/;//(>rj/ in May or June, 1^ B ( ) vli (Millul i\(\\ ■.. t»i new •. «(i MMr., ttunc. t»l>lir. l»c jmiI oil i Al l\V<"Mt> MUMUtr-. p.c.t HM.lM Strw.nt '. .iiul i\o[ »>nt !»» '..\\ 'Muxnl !>>«•. " .r. well .»•. to the riolcit.. AwA '.|o|tj»('«l .it {\\v tlooi »»l tlw .ll M I ll I .ll \i>|> tt» w i-.h IMi'., . 'N moi\ I'ootI h\c. .iii«l .il .o .it iMown'-. hou'.c, to t.ikr lc.»\ r «i| tlic I I m; l» Hi ow II . lloMic .It l\V(nl\ ininiitr-. jm-.i twcKc. W'litm^; \ri (M\ fi I .1 tri (•«•! .iin I I oni I ohI Sv.l \»lnrv. '..IV iti>; th.il lie li.id itiloiincd the poot Jen l'ii)|)i ()| these «lie.i(llul n (••.'« ( \v lie ( oiiM Dot IwImv It loi some liine, .iiul w.e. .illei w .11 J-, nnile nvei \vl\<*line«l I low tiK'.ulliil ! Took liiiielieoii witli Itcilii I (' in IMV il.uliiu' .AIlMit'". loom IwMtiiir w.r. iiiik li iiji-.el, .e III l.-.-.l w ,ill weie I veil lilo'.c wlio iliti Mot l.now iIk III l«'lt the «h<|»e'.t '.\'iii|».illiv, ;intl wei<* in .1 '.l.it*' o| < »nr>tei n.ilion. lie vv.rt '.o }»()o(l .iinl '.() niiM h l»elov<'«l. .So •■li.ni}'/- tli.il. as l.r>t time, onr (le|).ii Iiik* '.hoiild Ix >..i<|i|eiir J, as. iiulecil, it has lieen «*vciy ye.n, .it Ir.r.l loi- three or lonr )y the oreiincni <• ol .i'.l one, |anle |'',Iy ami l.*ila I'.troll (lull ol leelinj'J };<*in}; with -U..- < « • a- a ( 388 ) Beatrice and me. It was a pity to leave when everything was in its greatest beauty. The lilacs just preparing to burst. Near Ballater there was a bush of white lilac already out. The dust dread- ful. Very little whin, and far less of that beautiful broom, out, which was always such a pretty sight from the railway at this time of the year. We reached Aberdeen at twenty-eight minutes to four, and soon after had our tea. At the Bridge of Dun we got newspapers with some of the sad details. Thence we turned off and passed again close to the sea by Arbroath, East Haven, Carnoustie (where poor Symon went and got so ill he had to be taken back), all lying low, with golf links near each, and the line passing over long grass strips with mounds and small in- dentations of the sea, such as are seen near sands, where there are no rocks and the coast is flat ; but the ground rises as you approach Dimdee. We reached the Tay Bridge station at six. Immense crowds everywhere, flags waving in every direction, and the whole population out ; but one's heart was too sad for anything. The Provost, splendidly attired, presented an address. Ladies presented beautiful bouquets to Beatrice ta •ff a a ►n at SIX. ( 3^'J ) and me. The last time I was at Dundee was in September 1844, just after Affie's birth, when we landed there on our way to Blair, and Vicky, then not four years old, the only child with us. was carried through the crowd by old Ren wick.* We embarked there also on our way back. We stopped here about five minutes, and then began going over the marvellous Tay Bridge, which is rather more than a mile and a half long-f It was begun in 187 1. There were great diffi- culties in laying the foundation, rmd some lives were lost. It w j finished in 1878. Mr. Bouch, who was presented at Dundee, was the engineer. It tool- vz, I should say, about eight minutes going over. The view was very fine. The boys of the training-ship, with their band, looked very well. The line through the beautifully wooded county cf Fife was extremely pretty, especially after Ladybank yunction, where we i * Sergeant footman at the time, who died in 187 1. t The Tay Bridge was destroyed in the same year (1879) in ihe gale of the niglit of December 29, when a whole train witii upwards of cijhty passengers was precipitated into the Tay. 4^- T a -fi] ( 390 ) stopped for a few minutes, and where Mr. Balfour of Balbirnie brought a basket of llowers. We met him and his wife, Lady Georgiana, in Scot- land \v\ 1842. We passed near Loch Leven^ with the ruined castle in which poor Queen Mary was confined (which we passed in 1842), stopping there a moment and in view of the " Lomondsy* past Dollar and Tillicotiltry, the situation of which, in a wooded green valley at the foot of the hills, is quite beautiful, and reminded me of Italy and Switzerland, through Sanchie, Alloa, all manu- facturing towns, and then close under Wallace's Mojiument. We reached the Stirling Statiojt, which was dreadfully crowded, at eighteen minutes past eight (the people everywhere very enthu- siastic), and after leaving it we had some good cold dinner, which reminded me much of our refreshments in the train during our charming Italian journey. We got Scotch papers as we went along, giving harrowing details (all by telegraph) from the front, or rather from Natal to Cape Town, then by ship to Madeira, and thence again by telegraph here. Of nothing else could we think. Janie Ely got in at Beattock Stnnmit, and went ■B- # a- ( 391 ) with us as far as Carlisle. She showed us a Dun- dee paper, called the "Evening Telegraph," ^vhich contained the fullest and most dreadful accounts. Monstrous ! To think of that dear young man, the apple of his mother's eye, born and nurtured in the purple, dying thus, is too fearful, too awful ; and inexplicable and dreadful that the others she aid not have turned round and fought fo him. It is too horrible I -Qi fQ^- ^ a— ^ ( 392 ) Home-coming of their Roval Hiciinksses THK Dl'KE and DuCIlLbS OF CoNN AUGHT. Sei'tember 1879. , Balmoral Castle^ Friday, September 5, 1S79. At two I started oft' with Beatrice and Janie Ely (Sir Henry Ponsonby and General Gardiner having gone on to Ballaler) in the landau and four, the postilions in blue, outriders in red, Brown in full dress, and Power behind our carriage. We ar- rived at four minutes to three, and waited in the carriage till we heard the train (special) was approaching, when we got out. In two or three minutes more they were there, and dear Arthur and Louise Margaret stepped out, and were warmly embraced by us. I gave her a nosegay of heather. She had also received others. The guard (Royal Scots) were out. -a -ff cB" — -a ( 393 ) When we reached the Bahuoral brldq^e, we went at a slow pace, passing under the arch com- posed of moss and heather, on which was wrought, in flowers, " Welcome to Balmoral " on one side, and " Ceiid mille P'ailte " on the other, " A. W." and " L. M." on the outside of each ; and there all the people stood — all our kilted people. The ladies and gentlemen, including Lord Chelmsford and Mr. Cross, Christian Victor, and Albert (Helena's boys), and also the Misses Pitt, were there. Arthur spoke a few words from the carriage, and then Dr. Profeit said a few words ; after which, preceded by the pipers playing, and all our kilted men and the rest following, we went at a very slow foot s pace to the Castle. At the gate three pretty little girls of Colonel Clarke's (Bertie's equerry staying at Birkhall) threw nosegays into the carriage, one being of marguerites. Every one who was there followed on foot. Only Captain Fitzgerald came with Arthur and Louise Margaret. When we got out, everybody having come up, Dr. Profeit proposed Arthur's and Louischen's ^ -ff c& Hi^i ( 394 ) health, which every one drank with cheers. Arthur thanked. Then we went in, and Arthur, Louis- chen, and the two boys took tea. with us in the library. cg- -ff B: =?. Artlnir ur. Louis- US in the -ff [& •~-a Q- ( 395 ) His RovyM. Hictiness tiik Dukk of CoiNnaucjut's Caiun. Monday, September ^, 1879. A fine morning^. Breakfasted with Beatrice, Arthur, and Louischen in the garden cottage, and at eleven we started for Arthur's Cairn, I on my pony "Jessie," Beatrice walking to the top. We were met by Arthur and Louischen, and went on to near the cairn, to the right of Campbell's path. I got off when we were near it ; and here were assembled all the ladies and gentlemen, also Dr. Profeit, the keepers and ser- vants belonging to the place with their families, and almost all our servants from the house. When we had got to the top and had our glasses filled, and were standing close to the cairn, Dr. Profeit, with a few appmpriate words compli- mentary to Arthur, and with many good wishes th ff a- -a ( 396 ) for both, proposed their health, which was drunk with three times three. Then Arthur, with great readiness, relurned thanks in a little speech. My health followed, also with loud cheering; and then Brown said they ought to drink the health of Princess Beatrice, which Cowley took up and proposed ; and it was received with many cheers. Fern (who with the other dogs was there) re- sented the cheering, and barked very much. We all placed a stone on the cairn, on which was inscribed — Arthur Duke of Connaught and Strath f.arne, Married to Princess Louise Margaret of Prussia^ March 13, 1879. After a few minutes we left, I walking down the whole way. We stopped at Dr. Profeit's on our way down, and here I got on my pony again. 4- -^ ~£ii ''^ ; drunk ;h great speech, g; and health up and cheers. ;re) re- i. We :h was XNE, down :its on again. i ■ff ^" V c i [fi- ^ ■-R] ( 397 ) Visit to the Glev Gelder Siiiel, Balmoraly October 6, 1879. At ten minutes past four drove with the Empress Eugenie * (who had driven up from Abergcldie) in the victoria to the Glen Gelder Shiely or Ruldh na Bhan Righ (the Queen's Shiel). The evening was perfectly beautiful, warm, and clear, and blight. The Empress was pleased with the little Shiel, which contains only two small rooms and a little kitchen. It stands in a very wild solidary spot looking up to LocJmagar, which towers up immediately above the house, though to reach Lochnagar itself would take a very long time. We walked on along the footpath above * The Empress was staying at Abergeldic, to which I had urged her to come for a little quiet and change of air after her terrible misfortune. — ff r 1 ■ [fi ( 398 ) the Gclder for a mile and a half, the dogs, which had come up, following us, and the Empress talked a great deal, and most pleasantly, about former times. When we came back to the little Shiel, after walking for an hour, we had tea. Brown had caught some excellent trout and cooked them with oatmeal, which the dea** Empress liked extremely, and said would be her dinner. It was a glorious evening — the hills pink, and the sky so clear. We got back at twenty minutes past six, and the Empress drove back to Abergeldie with her lady. A f& ^ [fl ^ ( 399 ) Victory of Tel-el-Kebir and Home-coming OF THEIR Royal Highnesses the Duke and Duchess of Albany. September 1882. U Monday, September 11, 1882. Received a telegram in cipher from Sir John McNeill, marked very secret, saying that it was "determined to attack the enemy with a very large force on Wednesday." How anxious this made us, God only knows ; and yet this long delay had also made us very anxious. No one to know, though all expected something at the time. Tuesday, September 12. Drove at ten minutes to five, with Beatrice, Louischen, and Harriet, to the Glen G elder Shiel, where we had tea, and I sketched. The sky was so beautiful. We walked on the road back, and ^ ■^ 1 I r ( 400 ) came home at twenty minutes past seven. How anxious we felt, I need not say ; but we tried not to give way. Only the ladies dined with us. I prayed earnestly for my darling child, and longed for the morrow to arrive. Read Korner s beautiful " Gebet vor der Schlacht," " Vater, ich rufe Dich" (Prayer before the Battle, *' Father, I call on Thee"). My beloved husband used to sing it often. My thoughts were entirely fixed on Egypt and the coming battle. My nerves were strained to such a pitch by the intensity of my anxiety and suspense that they seemed to feel as though they were all alive. Wednesday y September 13. Woke very often. Raw and dull. Took my short walk, and breakfasted in the cottage. Had a telegram that the army marched out last night. What an anxious moment ! We walked after- wards as far as the arch for Leopold's reception, which was a very pretty one, and placed as nearly where it had been on previous occasions, only rather nearer Middleton's lodge, and thence back to the cottage, where I sat and wrote and signed, etc. Another telegram, also from Renter, saying ■a iB-- ^ ■a How led not s. d, and orners ter, ich .ther, I to sing Egypt trained ty and li they •13- Dk my Had night. after- -ptlon, nearly , only •ack to :d, etc. saying a- ff -a ( 401 ) that fighting was going on, and that the enemy had been routed with heavy loss at Tel-cl-Kcbir. Much agitated. On coming in got a telegram from Sir John McNeill, saying, ** A great victory ; Duke safe and well." Sent all to Louischen. The excite- ment very great. Felt unbounded joy and grati- tude for God's great goodness and mercy. The same news came from Lord Granville and Mr. Childers, though not yet from Sir Garnet Wolseley. A little later, just before two, caine the following most welcome and gratif^^ing telegram from Sir Garnet Wolseley : — hviaha, September 13, 18S2. Td-el-Kehir. — From Wolseley to the Queen, ^ Bal»ioral. Attacked Arabi's position at five this morning. His strongly entrenched position was most bravely and gallantly stormed by the Guards and line, while cavahy and horse artillery worked round their left flank. At seven o'clock I was in complete possession of his whole camp. Many railway trucks, with quantities of supplies, fallen into our hands. Enemy completely routed, and his loss has been very heavy ; also regret to say we have suffered severely. Duke of Connaught is well, and behaved admirably, leading his brigade to the attack. B- D O a- ::\ i 402 ) Brown broug-ht the telegram, and followed me to Beatrice's room, where Louischen was, and I showed it to her. I was myself quite upset, and embraced her warmly, saying what joy and pride and cause of thankfulness it was to know our darling safe, and so much praised ! I feel quite beside myself for joy and gratitude, though grieved to think of our losses, which, hovvever, have not proved to be so serious as first reported. We were both much overcome. We went to luncheon after this, havino- sent many telegrams, and receiving many. At ten minutes past three drove with Beatrice and Lady Southampton to Ballater. We got out of the carriage, and the train arrived almost immediately, and Leopold and Helen stepped out; she was dressed in grey with bonnet to match. The guard of honour, Seaforth Highlanders (Duke of Albany's), out, and many people. Leo- pold and Helen got at once into the landau with us two, and we drove straight to Balmoral. At the bridore Louischen and Horatia* were waitingf in a carriage, and followed us. Beyond the bridge, and when we had just passed under the arch, • The Hon Horatia Stopford. ^ ff V >> [& fl ( 403 '^ the carriafje stopped, and Dr. Pro^eit said a few words of welrnne, for which Leopold thanked. Here everybody was assembled — al> our gentle- men and ladies, and those from BirkJiall and th«^ Mains, and all the tenants from the three estates, all our servants, etc. The pipes preceded, playing the " Highland Laddie," Brown and all our other kilted men walking alongside, and before and behind the carriage everybody else close following — and a goodly number they were. We got out at the door, and went just be^-ond the arch, all our people standing in a line headed by our High- landers. A table with whisky and glasses was placed up against the house, next to which stood all the ladies and gentlemen. Dr. Profeit gave Leopold's and Helen's healths, and after these had been drunk. Brown stepped forward and said, nearly as follows : " Ladies and gendemen, let us join in a good Highland cheer for the Duke and Duchess of Albany ; may they live long and die happy ! " which pleased every one, and there were hearty cheers. Then I asked Leopold to propose '* The Vic- torious Army in Egypt',' with darling Arthur's t& ■ff !;! f ( 404 ) health, which was heartily responded to, and poor Louischen was quite upset. After this Dr. Profcit proposed " The Duchess of Connaught," and at Brown's suggestion he also proposed " The little Princess." The sweet little one had wit- nessed the procession in Cha[)man's (her nurse's) arms with her other attendants, and was only a little w.iy off when her health was drunk. This over, we went in and had tea upstairs in my room — Louischen, Beatrice, and I. Louischen had received a very long and most interesting letter from Arthir about that dreadful march on the 25th (dated 26th, but finished later). A telegram from Sir Garnet Wolseley to Mr. Childers, with fuller accounts, arrived. The loss, thank God ! is not so heavy as we feared at first. A bonfire was to be lit by my desire on the top of Craig Gowan at nine, just where there had been one in 1856 after the fall of Sevastopol, when dearest Albert went up to it at night with Bertie and Affie. That was on September 10, very nearly the sam«" iime twenty- six years ago f Went to Louischen, who read me portions of Arthur's long letter. The descripiion of his and t a €P [0- -& ( 405 ) the officers' sufferings and privations, as well a^ those of the poor men, made me miserable. Only ourselves to dinner; and at nine Beatrice, Louischen, Lady Southampton, and the gentle- men, and many of our people, walked up (with the pipes pla) ing) to the top of Craig Gowafi — rather venturesome in the dark ; and we three (Leopold, Helen, and I) went up to Beatrice's room, and from there we saw the bonfire lit and blazing, and could distinguish figures, and hear tb'" cheering and pipes. They were soon back, and I went and sat with Beatrice, Louischen, and Lady Southampton, who were having a little supper in Louischen's room. Endless telegrams ! What a day of gratitude and joy, but mingled with sorrow and anxiety for the many mourners and the wounded and dying ! t& & B ( 406 ) Conclusion. A few words I mii.^t add in conclusion to this volume. ' The faithful attendant who is so often men- tioned throu^^out these Leaves, is no longer with her whom he served so truly, devotedly, untiringly. In the fulness of health and strencrth he was snatched awav from his career of usefulness, after an illness of only three days, on the 27th of March of this year, respected and beloved by all who recognised his rare worth and kindness of heart, and truly regretted by all who knew him. His loss to me (ill and helpless as I was at the time from an accident) is irreparable, for he de- servedly possessed my enfire confidence ; and to say that he is daily, nay, hourly, missed by me, e ^ & a n to this en men- D longer ivotedly, he was 2SS, after >f March all who )f heart, IS at the • he de- and to by me, cS- a ( 407 ) whose lifelong gratitude he won by his constant care, attention, and devotion, is but a feeble ex- pression of the truth. A truer, nobler, trustier heart. More loyal, and more loving, never beat Within a human breast Balmoral : Ncrcember 1883. ^ ^ ^