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 TRAVELOGUES 
 
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 TRAVELOGUES
 
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 ENGLAND 
 
 
 BURTON HOLMES 
 TRAVELOGUES 
 
 
 
 WHITE HOUSE, PUBLISHERS 
 
 
 
 CHICAGO 

 
 Copyright, 1922, by E. Burton Holmes 
 All rights reserved
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 2056055
 
 NGLAND 
 
 BRITAIN emerged from the 
 World War as Greater Britain. The British 
 Empire stood the strenuous test. Britons fought and 
 won like Britons. Britannia's ruling of the war-time waves was 
 glorious and just. Civilization owes an increased debt of grati- 
 tude to her British champions the English, Scottish, Irish, Welsh, 
 Canadian, Australian, and Colonial sons of Greater Britain. Nobly 
 they bore themselves splendid in their dauntlessness, undismayed 
 in defeat, magnanimous in victory. 
 
 It is therefore with a new and more sympathetic interest that we 
 turn to a consideration of the British Isles the little archipelago 
 that has mothered the most masterful of modern races the 
 English-speaking, peace-loving, fair-fighting, and unconquerable race
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 that has extended its dominion around the world and, through its 
 American kindred, has created in the United States the richest and 
 most powerful of modern nations. 
 
 England is not Great Britain. England is not the British Empire, 
 but England is and must remain the heart and soul of the world- wide 
 federation of free peoples who speak her language, cherish her ideals, 
 and give her loyal, respectful, self-respecting, and intelligent alle- 
 giance. 
 
 There is something thoroughbred about England, something that 
 men of other nations are impelled to admire and respect even though 
 they may resent and pretend to ridicule it. Nowhere in the world is 
 there a land so rich in gentlemen. 
 
 The country itself is as well-groomed in appearance as the English 
 gentleman. You may search Kipling's Orient from Bombay to 
 Mandalay and fail to find a "greener, cleaner land" than England. 
 
 Not very verdant, however, are the cliffs that mark the place 
 where, in one sense, England begins Land's End. But those cliffs 
 are clean, washed by the waves and swept by the winds of the Atlantic. 
 Land's End is, literally, one of the ends of England. It is the western- 
 most extremity of Cornwall, 
 which county is itself 
 a great peninsula, 
 seventy-five miles 
 in length, jut- 
 ting westward 
 from t he 
 southern 
 edge of 
 England. 
 
 Once 
 upon a 
 time 
 Cornwall 
 stretched 
 
 A GOOD PLACi 
 TO HK.1N
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 LAND S END 
 
 farther westward. 
 The Scilly Isles, 
 now twenty -five 
 miles off Land's 
 End, once formed 
 a part of the Cor- 
 nish mainland. 
 The intervening 
 region vanished 
 centuries ago. It 
 was known as the 
 "Land of Lyon- 
 esse." According 
 to the ancient 
 chronicles, that 
 legendary coun- 
 try, with its hun- 
 
 THE WESTERNMOST CLIFFS OF CORNWALL
 
 8 ENGLAND 
 
 dred and forty parishes, its cities, towns, and villages, its smiling 
 fields and wonderful old castles, sank out of sight beneath the waves. 
 In one of those now submerged Cornish castles dwelt and ruled the 
 patient old King Mark, whose young bride, the fair Iseult of Ireland, 
 became enamoured of the brave knight Tristram -the messenger 
 sent by the aged King to bring her from her Irish home across the 
 Channel. Wagner has told of that great love in "Tristan and Isolde." 
 
 WHERE THE SEA TAKES TOM. 
 
 We are assured that the story of the sunken land of Lyonesse is not 
 all legend. There are proofs evident and visible that sections of this 
 coast have risen and fallen in the course of ages. Just as the Norman 
 coast near Mont St. Michel has changed its level, so too the coast of 
 Cornwall near that curiously similar church-crowned island called 
 St. Michael's Mount, is known to have been subject to mysterious
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 ST. MICHAEL'S MOUNT 
 
 and yet perfectly natural risings and fallings which to geologists are 
 not at all astonishing. 
 
 St. Michael's Mount is best known to fame as the stronghold of 
 the grim giant Cormoran, who to the delight of every boy we ever 
 
 THE LITTLE TOWN OF LOOK
 
 I0 ENGLAND 
 
 knew, was slain gloriously by that prince of our boyhood heroes, Jack 
 the Giant Killer. 
 
 The whole south coast of England is one long stretch of beauty. 
 Bold cliffs, softly rounded and carefully cultivated hills, long level 
 beaches of clean wholesome sands, pretty little towns, beautiful big 
 villages, picturesque seaport cities - all these attractions combine or 
 
 1LFRACOMBE
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 ii 
 
 THE BRISTOL CHANNEL 
 
 alternate in giving to the English Riviera a charming, comfortable 
 beauty all its own. 
 
 The climate is astonishingly mild even in winter when the rest 
 of England shivers, the sunny south coast is often bathed in an atmos- 
 phere of sunshine and warmth reminiscent of the Mediterranean 
 Riviera in the south of France. 
 
 For the traveler who does not love the sea, the south of England 
 offers the inland delights of Devonshire, one of the most beautiful of 
 all the English counties. As we traverse its deep-cut lanes and peer 
 through garden gates at impossibly picturesque thatched cottages, we 
 begin to understand why Englishmen are always talking about the 
 delights of a week-end "down in Devon." 
 
 To go "down in Devon" is to go deep into the heart of beautiful 
 old England. Or, if the traveler wishes to combine the calm joys of 
 inland Devon with the exhilaration of sea breezes he will find at 
 Ilfracombe an ideal place of sojourn. The word "combe" means
 
 12 
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 IN QUAINT CLOVELLY 
 
 "a hollow between steep hills" and Ilfracombe lies between steep 
 hills, and, backed by steep hills, it looks out on the dancing waves of 
 the Bristol Channel. 
 
 Not far away some twenty miles or so there is an even love- 
 lier north Devon beauty spot. Its 
 name is as pretty as the place 
 itself Clovelly. Clovelly is 
 one of the most charming 
 little places in all Eng- 
 land. According to the 
 guide book, only six 
 hundred and twenty - 
 one persons enjoy the 
 privilege of dwelling 
 in Clovelly, but thou- 
 sands of other per- 
 sons come to Clovelly 
 
 CLOVELLY FROM THE PIER
 
 ENGLAND 13 
 
 every season to enjoy the hospitality of its pretty white houses with 
 their bright green doors and lattices opening upon the one and only 
 street of this delightful village. The street is almost like a flight of 
 stairs with, at the top, the high green hills of Devon and at the 
 bottom the deep blue waters of Bideford Bay. 
 
 Hospitality is the profession of Clovelly. The brewing and serv- 
 ing of tea is the chief local industry. The entertainment and refresh- 
 
 CLOVELLV READY FOR THE TOURIST INVASION
 
 I4 ENGLAND 
 
 ment of the passing stranger is the end and aim of nearly every native 
 of the village. Clovelly is always glad to see the passing stranger. 
 The stranger unless he is insensible to the appeal of beauty and 
 the lure of local good-will - 
 is always glad to see 
 Clovelly. 
 
 It is worth 
 while t o 
 linger in 
 a place 
 like this 
 and watch 
 the passing 
 procession of 
 visitors the 
 little crowds of 
 busy trippers that 
 
 COnie and gO from day to day. THE ONE AND ONLY STREET 
 
 UP STAIRS AND DOWN IN CLOVELLY
 
 ENGLAND 15 
 
 One day's enthusiastic audience is very like another's. Everyone 
 seems to say and do the very same things that everyone else has 
 said and done here, day after day, since tripping to pretty places 
 by the sea became the pastime of the British people. 
 
 The traveler who "stays over" for a few days finds an easy road to 
 distinction. He acquires the dignity of an old settler; visitors look 
 up to him as an authority on local sights. He becomes the familiar 
 
 ALONO THE ENGLISH RIVIERA 
 
 friend of the elect six hundred and twenty-one citizens of this tiny 
 show place. He discovers the home of the housewife who brews the 
 best tea the haunt of the tenderest of all the toasted muffins the 
 source of the most marvellous of all the local marmalades and jams. 
 He may, it is true, tire of the local cuisine. But after a summer of 
 travel along the byways of Britain it is our impression that the local 
 cuisine of one town is the universal cuisine of the country. Every-
 
 i6 
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 where, every day, bacon and eggs for breakfast. Good bacon and 
 good eggs, but always bacon and eggs and porridge the latter 
 not appealing to the Yankee palate. Everywhere, every day, for 
 luncheon, cold joint and a boiled potato. For dinner, hot joint and 
 a boiled potato. One comes to dread the "twice daily" of the inevit- 
 able boiled potato. Every day for seven weeks and there are 
 forty-nine days in seven weeks we met that British boiled potato 
 twice daily at luncheon and at dinner. That totaled ninety-eight 
 
 nOWN IN DEVON 
 
 meetings. Of course, we have nothing against the boiled potato as 
 a boiled potato; but as a daily diet that is another story. But 
 Britons don't appear to mind nor to suspect that a dash of variety 
 in potato matters might not come amiss. 
 
 When we ventured to express ourselves in the hearing of an Eng- 
 lish lady, concerning this, to us, inexplicable monotony of fare she 
 looked at us in wonder, and inquired, "But how would one cook a 
 potato if one didn't boil it?" and then, while we were trying to
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 find an answer, she added, with a flash of inspiration "or bake it?" 
 We suggested that in our humble opinion, a potato might, without 
 disrupting the British Empire or disturbing the Entente Cordiale, 
 be served German fried, mashed, French fried, saute, hashed brown, 
 
 THE BEACH OF MANY COSY CORNERS
 
 lg ENGLAND 
 
 stewed in cream, hashed au gratin, Lyonnaise, souffle, rissole - or 
 even in the form of crisp Saratoga chips. The lady looked at us as 
 if to say, "Dear me, these mad Americans" - and proceeded to do 
 her duty by the standardized boiled potato, which had impelled us 
 to the above outburst of suggestions. 
 
 In justice to the British provincial cuisine it must be said that 
 
 ON THE SILVER SANDS 
 
 the joints are good joints and the potatoes good potatoes it's the 
 deadly monotony of the fare that is depressing. 
 
 But there is no monotony in the feast of beauty that is spread 
 before the traveler in the south of England. The exquisitely finished 
 aspect of the country, the absence of industrial scars, the picturesque- 
 ness of the old-time towns and villages make touring a delight. And 
 yet strong indeed must be the traveler's "wanderlust" to keep him 
 on the move in England when there are so many charming places that
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 invite him to lay aside his pil- 
 grim staff, and settle down 
 to spend the season. 
 
 Let him beware 
 the lure of Tor- 
 q u ay with its 
 semi-tropical, 
 palm bordered 
 streets and its rocky, 
 
 cosy corners on the 
 beach. Let him 
 be strong to resist 
 the joyous tempta- 
 tions of the silver 
 sands at Weymouth, 
 or at Bournemouth. 
 Let him be 
 wise 
 
 SUMMER JOYS
 
 20 
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 enough not to yield to the sophisticated citified attractions of 
 Brighton and the other seaside suburbs of overcrowded London. 
 Let the true traveler avoid "resorts" and hie him to the interest- 
 ing towns and lesser cities of old England where her great Cathedrals 
 
 rise like glorious and beautiful reminders of a calmer and more 
 restful age. 
 
 Typical of many other medieval English towns, but with a charm- 
 ing "Early English" atmosphere all its own, is Salisbury, the county 
 town of Wiltshire. There we 
 may lunch in good old Eng- 
 lish fashion at a famous 
 tavern at the ap- 
 petizing sign of 
 "The Haunch of 
 Venison." From 
 its windows we 
 may feast our 
 eyes upon the 
 
 THE roULTRT CROSS
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 21 
 
 quaint design of the old Poultry 
 Cross a market cross much 
 more elaborate than those we 
 find in other English towns. 
 The curious structure 
 marked the center of the 
 old-time market where 
 earlier generations of Wilt- 
 shire folk trafficked in 
 cackling hens and crow- 
 ing roosters. Its arches 
 doubtless sheltered many a 
 worthy housewife of ye olden 
 time during the frequent showers 
 that are an almost daily matter-of-course 
 in wet old England. The design of the Poultry Cross is good 
 late-Gothic but the architectural glory of Salisbury, the great 
 
 UNDER 
 THE 
 CROSS 
 
 A FAMOUS TAVERN
 
 22 
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 ST. ANNE S GATE 
 
 Cathedral, is Early English. Its spire, the loftiest in England 
 four hundred and four feet high is visible for many miles as you 
 approach across the fairly level country round about ; but once in the 
 narrow streets of the town, the traveler looks in vain for its tapering 
 cross - crowned tip so successfully do the low two- and three- 
 story buildings of 
 the unchanging 
 town obscure the 
 most aspiring and 
 inspiring monu- 
 ment of Salisbury's 
 pious and artistic 
 past. 
 
 The great 
 Church 
 
 AFTER SERVICE
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 THE NORTH GATE 
 
 rises from the velvety level of a park-like inner minster-yard called 
 the Cathedral Close. This quiet, restful Close is shut off from 
 the calm of the town itself by walls that are in certain places 
 incorporated in the mass of the surrounding structures. Old gates, 
 each with a special character one might almost say a special 
 personality give access to the Close and as we pass beneath 
 the arches of St. Anne's or of the North Gate, we feel that we are
 
 24 ENGLAND 
 
 entering an out-of-door architectural museum of which the Cathedral 
 is the dominating masterpiece. 
 
 It is quite fitting that a grand old church should rise, not from the 
 midst of a commerce-ridden quarter, but from the midst of a fair 
 
 SALISBURY CATHEDRAL
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 expanse of Nature's 
 green, with pretty, 
 homelike houses set 
 all round about, but 
 at a piously respect- 
 f u 1 distance. S o 
 does the Salisbury 
 Cathedral rise in its 
 perfection, acknowl- 
 edged as the most 
 graceful and sym- 
 metrical of all the 
 English Cathedrals 
 and as the most 
 consistently and 
 characteristically 
 
 A THIRTEENTH CENTURY PORTAL
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 English of them all. 
 It was begun in the 
 year of our Lord 1220, 
 and, strange to say, 
 completed within the 
 brief period of forty 
 years. Cathedrals as 
 a rule are centuries in 
 building but Salis- 
 bury's famous fane 
 stands as a glorious 
 exception to the rule 
 a great Cathedral de- 
 signed, erected, and 
 completed within the 
 space of two-score 
 years. Thus the tap- 
 ering spire at which 
 we look to-day has 
 stood there, lifting its 
 cross against the sky, 
 or seeming to plunge 
 it deep into the mir- 
 roring depths of the 
 little River Avon (not 
 Shakespeare's Avon, 
 but another one of 
 the several English 
 streams that bear that 
 familiar name), for 
 nearly seven centuries. 
 But what are seven 
 centuries in a land as 
 old as England! With- 
 
 THE LOFTIEST OF ENGLISH SPIRES
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 27 
 
 in seven miles of Salisbury there stands a temple of worship dating 
 back as closely as modern man may compute its age nearly 
 thirty-seven centuries! That temple is the most imposing mega- 
 lithic monument in Britain, a memorial of a vanished race, of a 
 forgotten faith and of a religion unremembered. 
 
 Stonehenge is a colossal and enduring mystery. The wise men 
 of successive -^""^fc^ centuries have 
 
 striven ^^^ ^^i to solve 
 
 A LOVE OF A COTTAOE 
 
 this mystery, but in vain. There is no authentic record upon 
 which to rely. The name is said to be derived from a name given 
 by the Saxons " Stanhengist " meaning "Hanging Stones." 
 
 No man knows for what purpose these great stones were erected 
 on the low hill that looms above the wide and wind-swept Salisbury 
 Plain. Some say that Stonehenge was a memorial to four hundred 
 nobles executed in the year 472 A. D. Others insist that it was the 
 tomb of Constantine the Great, first of Christian Roman Emperors
 
 28 
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 and founder of Constanti- 
 nople. Various au- 
 thorities equally 
 worthy of a 
 ere dence 
 assure us 
 that 
 S tone- 
 h e n g e 
 was a 
 Roman 
 temple, a 
 Tuscan shrine, 
 a Danish mortu- 
 ary memorial, a circle 
 for Druidic serpent worship, 
 or a Saxon sepulchral sanctuary. 
 But the theory latest advanced, and to us the most reasonable, is 
 that Stonehenge was a temple for the worship of the sun. The 
 
 STONFHENGE 
 
 COLOSSAL TRILITHONS
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 29 
 
 arrangement and orientation of the mighty blocks suggest that 
 the mysterious temple was a colossal prehistoric sun-dial and calen- 
 dar stone, erected with careful regard to the direction of the sun's 
 appearance on the morning of the summer solstice. 
 
 Many of the monoliths have fallen. One of the mighty trili- 
 thons a great gateway formed of three stones collapsed on the 
 last day of the year 1900 A. D. The fall of another was recorded a 
 hundred and three years before. 
 
 The outer circle consisted originally of thirty colossal "sarsens" 
 supporting gigantic lintel stones. The inner circle of smaller 
 "blue stones" has nearly disappeared. Within this was a horseshoe 
 of five huge trilithons and within this a lesser horseshoe of nineteen 
 "blue stones." 
 The open ends of 
 these two horse- 
 shoes faced the 
 east. At some 
 distance eastward 
 from the temple 
 rises an isolated 
 monolith now 
 called the "Friar's 
 Heel." It was 
 undoub t edly 
 placed there to 
 enable the priests 
 of the sun and 
 the few favored 
 worshipers stand- 
 ing in the midst 
 of the temple, to 
 sight the exact 
 point on the 
 
 A MYSTERY OF YESTERDAY A MIRACLE OF TO-DAY
 
 30 ENGLAND 
 
 horizon where the sun would rise on the morning of the summer 
 solstice. The traveler standing there on a modern midsummer 
 morning will note that the sun rises nearly in line with that huge indi- 
 cating arrowhead. Now we know that in the course of centuries, 
 owing to astronomical causes, there has been a change in the direc- 
 tion of that line. Thus it has been possible to compute the age of 
 
 LIKE A MIGHTY PREHISTORIC SUN-DIAL 
 
 Stonehenge by ascertaining at what period in the past the sun would 
 have appeared to rise precisely in line with the "Friar's Heel." Scien- 
 tific calculations fix that period in fact the very day with dis- 
 concerting precision, as Midsummer Day in the year 1680 B. C. Thus 
 the cyclopean masses of Stonehenge must have been reared, by 
 unknown men employing means to us unknown, more than thirty- 
 six centuries ago or, that we may better sense the remoteness of
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 THE FRIAR'S HEEI. 
 
 the date, let us say four hundred years before Rameses the Great 
 set up his obelisks and the mighty monoliths of his colossal temples 
 in the Egypt of the Pharaohs. It is with a thrill of wonder that we 
 look through one of the titanic trilithons which opens like a portal 
 of the fathomless past and 
 see, framed there against 
 the blue of the heav- 
 ens, British mil- 
 itary aviators 
 cleaving the 
 ancient sky 
 of Britain 
 with man- 
 made wings 
 of modern 
 air-craft. Theii 
 
 IN WILTSHIRE
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 CASTLE COMBE 
 
 DEEP IN ENGLAND 
 
 flight turns our 
 thoughts from the 
 unfathomed past, 
 hopefully toward 
 the unfathomed 
 future of our race. 
 But sufficient 
 unto the present 
 day are the prob- 
 lems and the joys 
 thereof - - and on 
 we travel through 
 this land of Eng- 
 land which is so old 
 and at the same 
 time so new at 
 least to me. Strange
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 33 
 
 to say it is only 
 after a quarter of a 
 century of travel 
 around and up and 
 down our interesting 
 earth, that I now 
 find myself for the 
 first time tast- 
 ing the joys, 
 seeing the 
 
 sights, and marvel- 
 ing with the sur- 
 prised enthusiasm of 
 one who has dis- 
 covered something 
 new, at the beauty 
 of delightful rural 
 England. Even 
 the ancient Ro- 
 man Baths of Bath 
 are very new to me. 
 
 QUAINT CORNERS OF CASTLE COMBE 
 
 These famous baths remind 
 us that Britain's earliest 
 civilization came to her 
 from Rome that Romans 
 brought to this far-off island 
 of the pale barbarians the 
 arts and pleasures and con- 
 veniences of ancient Rome. 
 They introduced the good- 
 ly and the godly custom
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 5^ 
 
 of the daily bath -a custom which Britons have perpetuated to 
 the lasting benefit and credit of a cleanly, well-washed and 
 self-respecting race. No unwashed nation can be ever truly 
 great. No one will ever know how much the greatness of Great 
 Britain is the direct result of the individual Briton's devotion to his 
 daily tub -even though for generations it has been at best only a 
 round tin tub full of chilly water, laboriously carried up several 
 
 THE ROMAN BATHS AT BATH 
 
 flights of stairs by the long-suffering "slavies." May Britons who 
 have fought the good fight for personal cleanliness, generation after 
 generation, against all the discouraging odds of inadequate facilities 
 and antiquated plumbing devices, receive in due time their well-merit- 
 ed reward in the form of countless porcelain tubs that are tubs and 
 hot running water that runs, and is hot and other advantages now 
 long since enjoyed by the denizens of the skyscraping cliff dwellings 
 of America. Think of the centuries of discomfort that have inter- 
 vened for civilized man blessed with a desire to keep his body 
 clean between the yesterday of the marble baths of ancient Rome
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 35 
 
 and the to-day of 
 the tiled bath 
 rooms of the ultra- 
 modern U. S. A. 
 
 Bath was in the 
 eighteenth century 
 the most fashion- 
 able watering place 
 in England, fre- 
 quented by the 
 elegant world of 
 the day, whose 
 amusements and 
 diversions were or- 
 ganized and super- 
 vised by the 
 famous fop Beau 
 Nash, who as mas- 
 ter of ceremonies 
 made himself the social sovereign in the kingdom of local vanities. 
 He was the Ward McAllister, the Harry Lehr and the Berry Wall 
 of his time all three in one. His fame is not to-day as wide as 
 that of the better known dandy of the succeeding generation, Beau 
 
 Brummel but he was in every 
 way an abler man. He lived 
 a frivolous but far more use- 
 ful life and unlike Beau 
 Brummel died a decent 
 death. His memory 
 is still honored by the 
 town of Bath which 
 owes to his practical 
 administration of its 
 
 PIPES LAID BY ROMAN PLUMBERS 
 
 A BATH CHAIR
 
 36 ENGLAND 
 
 eighteenth century follies so large a share of its twentieth century 
 
 prosperity. 
 
 Another place where Romans bathed in ancient days is marked 
 to-day by that glorious little town of Wells with its glorious great 
 church. "Wells" it is called because of the springs or wells to which 
 the place owes its earliest fame - wells of health-giving waters prized 
 
 IN LONGLEAT PARK 
 
 by the Romans believed in by the ailing folk of the middle ages 
 but not enjoying any modicum of modern favor. Wells is a place 
 that delights the eye. No town in England offers a more complete 
 or pleasing picture of the art and exquisite good taste of the ecclesi- 
 astic builders of the Golden Age of Early English architecture. The 
 Wells Cathedral is very easy to look at not in the slang sense of 
 that phrase but literally easy to behold and to admire from many
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 37 
 
 satisfying points of view. To stand in a narrow street and stretch 
 one's neck and strain one's eyes in efforts to see and analyze the glory 
 of a great cathedral is to risk losing patience with the builders who 
 have so badly set a gem of architecture that its beauty must be sensed 
 rather than seen. At Wells, however, one may lie upon the green- 
 sward of the quiet, spacious Close and gaze up at that wonder-wall 
 
 ON THE ESTATE OF THE MARQUIS OF BATH 
 
 of the fac/ade where in their canopied niches stand more than six 
 hundred figures of angels, prophets, saints and bishops, kings and 
 queens and honored benefactors of the Church. Six hundred heav- 
 enly personages or noble men and women of this earth are there por- 
 trayed in stone, their various forms so ranged and juxtaposed as to 
 present on one great sculptured page "a compendium of both the- 
 ology and history."
 
 3 8 ENGLAND 
 
 Above those nine tiers of silent but eloquent images rise the towers 
 of the beautiful cathedral, as yet unfinished in fact never to be 
 finished. Like Notre Dame in Paris, this English church has stood 
 so long without its projected spires that to add spires and thus com- 
 plete the design of the old architects would be an act of what might 
 be termed constructive vandalism. Although imposing from every 
 point of view this medieval art-creation is comparatively small. Its 
 satisfying impressiveness lies in the happy grouping and harmonious 
 beauty of its many and diverse 
 
 features. *** **"" ^^ Unusual in 
 
 WELLS CATHEDRAL 
 
 design and in beauty is the octagonal Chapter House - approached 
 from the church by a peculiar flight of stairs that suggests an inclined 
 wavy sea of stone. The well-worn steps tell of six hundred years of
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 39 
 
 THE CHAPTER HOUSE OF WELLS 
 
 constant use. The nave of the Cathedral is unique; not by design but 
 through what might be termed a fortunate misfortune. While in 
 construction the four piers of the great tower threatened to collapse. 
 The master-builders, inspired by alarm, happily hit upon a novel 
 and unique expedient for bracing and supporting those piers 
 without blocking the vistas of the nave 
 and transepts. They built 
 between the weakened 
 piers four pointed 
 arches, springing 
 from the level 
 of the pave- 
 ment. Upon 
 them they built 
 four other 
 p o i n ted 
 arches 
 
 
 THK FACADE OF SIX HUNDRED STATIJK*
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 THE INVERTED ARCH 
 
 upside down. Thus the stability of the higher arches was assured 
 and thus the Wells Cathedral has been blessed with forms of unique 
 beauty, framing but not blocking the noble perspectives from entrance 
 to altar and from transept to transept. Moreover the dominant lines 
 of these double arches present to the mind of every worshiper a most
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 appropriate symbol a huge 
 St. Andrew's Cross for Wells 
 Cathedral is dedicated to St. 
 Andrew. He died upon a cross 
 in form unlike that of his Mas- 
 ter for the cross on which 
 Andrew was crucified was
 
 ENGLAND 
 42 
 
 shaped like a letter X:-a cross of this unusual form is known 
 as a Crux decussata or decussate cross. 
 
 The sight-seeing pilgrims of to-day perpetuate the prosperity of 
 the taverns of the town which were once supported by the pilgrims 
 of old who came to pray. Numerous bands of British tourists are 
 brought to town in fleets of big motor-driven char-a-bancs. They 
 view the beautiful cathedral, climb the wavy stairs of the Chapter 
 
 THE GREAT GATE OF THE EPISCOPAL PALACE 
 
 House, pass out from the Cathedral Close through the Penniless 
 Porch (where beggars sat in olden days) and, entering the noble 
 portal of the Episcopal Palace, wander in the lovely park around the 
 Bishop's picturesque abode. Then after they have bought sets of 
 post cards and refreshed themselves at the local inns, they clamber 
 into their respective motor busses, and roll away, over good English 
 roads, to see more of the sights of their beloved England. 
 
 Of course they visit Glastonbury, which is less than six miles from
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 43 
 
 Wells. There is more to tell of than to see at Glastonbury but the 
 structures that have survived the turmoil of the ages are eloquent 
 of the venerable and holy things that are no more but to which 
 the place owes its ecclesiastical fame. Vanished of course is the first 
 church that marked the site the little church built of wattle 
 and of wood by none other than Joseph of Arimathaea, who, so 
 says the monkish legend, was sent from Gaul by Saint Philip as 
 
 TOURISTS SEE THE SIGHTS 
 
 leader of a band of twelve apostles to evangelize Britain. One evi- 
 dence of his coming long survived that wattled sanctuary. It was 
 the famous Thorn of Glastonbury which he planted here (some say 
 it sprang from his holy staff) in the first century. It flourished until 
 the Puritan fanatics of the Reformation cut it down. 
 
 Nor will the pilgrim of to-day find any trace of the tombs of good 
 King Arthur and sweet Queen Guinevere, who, if we are inclined to 
 credit legend, were buried here, when the hill called Glastonbury Tor
 
 44 
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 was in reality an island called by the legend- 
 ary name of Avalon. But standing boldly 
 forth against the sky is the stone tower on 
 the Tor where Henry VIII hanged the 
 last abbot of the famous Glastonbury 
 Abbey. And equally solid and visible 
 to-day are the ruins of the later 
 churches and other edifices of the 
 ancient institution that had its begin - 
 
 CLASTONBURY TOR 
 
 ning in the tiny shrine set 
 up by the good merchant of 
 Arimathea nearly two 
 thousand years ago. And 
 
 of especial interest to the 
 hungry and thirsty traveler 
 
 there is the quaint old 
 Pilgrims' Inn, where while 
 the chops are grilling and 
 
 the "bitter" being 
 
 MUTILATED SPLENDOR 
 
 drawn we may talk of the past of 
 Glastonbury and be glad that in 
 speaking of it we do not 
 have to use its ancient 
 Saxon name of Glaes- 
 tyngabyrig or its still 
 more ancient name of 
 Ynysyr Afalon by which it
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 45 
 
 ISB 
 
 GLASTONBURY ABBEY 
 
 was known to the early Britons. But speaking of inns and chops 
 and ale we naturally think of cheese and of course the cheese 
 
 THE GEORGE INN FOR PILGRIM
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 served in this neighborhood is 
 the famous cheese of Ched- 
 dar. The nearby town 
 of Cheddar where that 
 cheese was born 
 more than two 
 hundred years ago 
 lies near the en- 
 trance to the 
 grandest gorge 
 in England 
 a long wind- 
 ing defile shut 
 in by the tower- 
 ing Cheddar 
 Cliffs, in which 
 are the famous 
 and fantastic 
 Cheddar Caverns. 
 
 IN THE CHEDDAR GORGE
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 47 
 
 Apropos of cheese cheddar 01 other, we learn on going to 
 the encyclopedia that intellectual delicatessen cupboard that 
 the familiar expression "That's the cheese" in no way refers to 
 that favorite food of mice and men. We should say "That's the 
 cheez" the word "cheez" being from the Urdu language of old 
 India and meaning "thing." Thus does the thoughtful thumbing 
 of an encyclopedia richly reward the seeker after truth. 
 
 CHEDDAR, WHENCE COMES THE CHEESE 
 
 There are in England two world-famous towns which may be 
 regarded as living, corporate, and infallible encyclopedias. They are 
 the University towns of Oxford and of Cambridge. In either of these 
 celebrated seats of learning the seeker after truth will find at his com- 
 mand the stored-up wisdom of past ages and the latest revelations of
 
 48 ENGLAND 
 
 modern research. Well may the alumni of a great university regard 
 it as their "Alma Mater" - literally their "Fostering Mother." 
 
 Oxford is to the eye one of the most beautifully satisfying towns 
 in England. It is an exposition of period architecture almost un- 
 rivalled in the world. It is a liberal education - artistically speak- 
 ing just to look at Oxford. Nor can we hope in these pages to do 
 more than look at Oxford, for to study in detail even the outward 
 
 
 aspect of the twenty-two colleges that combine to form the University 
 of Oxford, would call for many thousands of pictures and entire vol- 
 umes of descriptive text. Therefore we are content merely to stroll 
 along "the High," one of the noblest streets in England enjoying 
 the vistas that are unfolded as we advance, and admiring, as others 
 have done before us, "the stream-like wanderings of this glorious 
 street." We pause before the picturesque portal of the Church of 
 St. Mary the Virgin, recalling that within the Church the unhappy
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 49 
 
 "i HI HIUN" 
 
 Amy Robsart, murdered \\ih- of Robert Dudley, Karl of Leicester, 
 was laid away beneath the Choir in 1560. At every turn we are re- 
 minded of >ome famous name in history or literature or art. Uni- 
 versity College in the High was the Alma Mater of poor Shelley. He
 
 5 
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 was never graduated; he was expelled in 1811 because of his 
 essay on "The Necessity of Atheism." The faculty was not proud of 
 Shelley at least not ^^^"^^^^ then but to-day his 
 college proudly ex- ^^ ^^^ hibits to all visitors 
 
 a marble memo- j ^yrial of the youth- 
 
 ful poet. The j A \ largest, although 
 
 not the oldest / ilfl Bki 1 of the Oxford 
 
 THE TOM GATE OF CHRIST CHURCH 
 
 colleges, is Christ Church. The tower of the old Tom Gate dom- 
 bates the famous Tom Quad - the most spacious of the many 
 
 ICICWATSR QUADRANGLE AND THE LIBRARY
 
 college quad- 
 rangles. High in 
 the tower hangs 
 "Great Tom," a 
 bell that weighs 
 seven and one-half 
 tons. Every night 
 at just five min- 
 utes after nine 
 those seven and a 
 half tons of metal 
 vibrate to the tra- 
 ditional one hun- 
 dred and one 
 strokes that give 
 the signal for the 
 dosing o: all the 
 college gates of all 
 the twenty-two 
 colleges that lie 
 
 VIN*R\lt STQNtS 
 
 *^^$fiS 
 
 ^ISSSI^ 
 
 *wif3i^ 
 
 /HKISf OHl'RCH Mk'AOOW 
 
 within sound of 
 the booming of 
 Oca t Tom. 
 
 Cardinal Wol- 
 sey founded Christ 
 Church in 15.14. 
 Samuel Johnson, 
 the Duke of Wel- 
 lington, John Rus- 
 kin, Gladstone, and 
 King l-\l\vard YU 
 were numbered 
 among its under-
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 THE SHELDON1AN THEATER 
 
 graduates. The boy who may some day reign as Edward VIII spent 
 his college days at Magdalen College. In one corner of its quiet
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 S3 
 
 ST. MARY MAGDALEN COLLEGE 
 
 old quadrangle we see the ivy -draped windows of the rooms occupied 
 by Edward, Prince of Wales, eldest son of George V and future 
 King of England and Emperor of India. 
 
 Under the walls of this same beautiful old college flows one branch 
 
 THE IVY-DRAPED WINDOWS OF THE PRINCE OF WALES' ROOMS
 
 54 
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 LIBRARY OF MERTON, MOST ANCIENT IN ENGLAND 
 
 of the little Cherwell River to join the Thames a little farther on. 
 Along its banks lies a section of that famous deeply shaded path 
 where Addison was wont to wander, more than two hundred years 
 ago. We think with admiration of his perfect prose as we follow 
 that poetic path, still known as Addison's walk.
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 55 
 
 That tree-arched path beside the tree-arched river is to us as 
 suggestive of scholastic calm as the ancient oak-arched halls of the 
 venerable college libraries. Calmest and richest in its atmosphere 
 of mellowed learning and age-old cultivation is the library of Merton 
 College with its laden book racks which subdivide it into so many 
 cosy nooks for quiet study or profound research. Absolute calm 
 broods here even during the exciting days of Commemoration Week, 
 when outer Oxford is thronged with visitors come to witness the 
 processions and ceremonies that mark the end of the term called the 
 summer term although it ends in June. 
 
 Summer in England is a season of delight and the River Thames 
 is the scene of the most delightful doings of that delightful season. 
 All fashionable 
 England seems to 
 say with one ac- 
 cord in the words 
 of the old hymn 
 "let us gather at 
 the river the 
 beautiful, the 
 beautiful, the 
 river" and a 
 good part of the 
 British population 
 gathers literally on 
 the river, paving 
 the placid stream 
 with a mass of 
 punts, canoes, and 
 little motor craft 
 cruising at times 
 in such close for- 
 mation as almost 
 
 THE OCTAOON HOUSE
 
 - 6 ENGLAND 
 
 to hide the waters of the aristocratic stream. Congestion of river 
 craft is especially acute in the various locks that lift and lower 
 these flotillas of pleasure from one reach of the canalized Thames to 
 another. At Boulter's Lock on Ascot Sunday, thousands of specta- 
 tors gather to watch the leisurely passing of a floating pageant of 
 luxury. But the greatest of great days on the river come with the 
 
 BOULTER S LOCK
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 57 
 
 Henley Regatta early in July. Than the Thames presents an as- 
 tounding motion picture, glorious in color, scintillating with the sun- 
 shine of bright skies, bright eyes, and the glint of flashing oars and 
 
 paddles. There are of 
 course boat races to 
 give a special thrill 
 of excitement from 
 hour to hour but 
 all day long we may 
 enjoy the quiet, joy- 
 ous, lasting thrill 
 born of this pleasing 
 picture of the very 
 pleasant life lived 
 by thousands of 
 nature-loving pleas- 
 ure-seekers who 
 seek and find real pleasure on their best beloved river. 
 
 There is a very human quality about the Thames. More truly 
 
 
 A PICNIC IN A PUNT 
 
 ASCOT SUNDAY
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 A HOUSE BOAT 
 
 than any other river that we know, it seems to be in sympathetic 
 touch with the hearts and minds of the men and women who love it 
 and play with it to-day. It seems to have had sympathetic under-
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 59 
 
 standing of the great princes, prelates and nobles of the past whose 
 gilded barges it once bore upon its breast whose medieval castles, 
 palaces, and mansions are still mirrored in its modern depths. The 
 Thames remem- bers and reflects 
 
 most clearly to those who look upon it with eyes focused on the past, 
 the haughty mightiness of the great Wolsey "the proudest prelate 
 who ever breathed." It was at Hampton Court that he held his 
 court in the great palace which 
 is still the largest palace in 
 all England. His king 
 the violent and envious 
 Henry whose ap- 
 petite for wives was 
 equalled only by his 
 appetite for palaces, 
 looked upon Hampton 
 Court to covet it. In 
 
 A FLOATING VILLA
 
 6o 
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 those days a palace coveted by a king 
 was not a thing that a wise Car- 
 dinal would care to have in his 
 possession. Wolsey was wise. 
 Hampton Court was offered 
 to the Royal British Blue- 
 beard and accepted. 
 To-day it is a home for 
 indigent royalties poor 
 relations of the Crown, who 
 are granted lodgings, rent 
 free, in certain portions of 
 the palace. Other portions, 
 with the gardens, have be- 
 come the playground of the 
 prosperous proletariat which 
 throngs the park and the picture 
 galleries every sunny and even 
 every soggy Sunday in the year. 
 
 EVENING ON THE THAMES 
 
 HAMPTON COURT
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 61 
 
 WOLSEY S GIFT TO HENRY VIII 
 
 Twentieth century Pilgrims from America must always find this 
 old palace of special interest, for here was held in 1604 the Hampton 
 Court Conference, at which King James I, in response to the peti- 
 tions of the Puritans, burst 
 forth: "I shall make 
 them conform them- 
 selves, or I will 
 harry them out 
 of the land, or 
 else do worse." 
 Th us Hampton 
 Court Palace 
 might be called the 
 birthplace of New 
 England, for it was this 
 determination of James' to 
 "harry them out of the land" 
 which drove the Pilgrims of the seventeenth century first to Leyden 
 and then on to found settlements in a more hospitable new England. 
 A few miles farther from London, but still on the charming Thames, 
 is Windsor, the chief residence of British sovereigns for ages long. 
 Here before the 
 Norman Conquest 
 was a residence of 
 the Saxon kings. 
 
 Dominating the 
 castle is the famed 
 Round Tower, 
 eighty feet high, 
 built by Edward 
 III to receive the 
 Round Table of 
 the knights of the 
 n e w 1 v formed 
 
 THE PALACE
 
 62 
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 WINDSOR CASTLE 
 
 Order of the Garter. According to Froissart, the chronicler, he 
 selected this site because it was on the summit of this very mount 
 that King Arthur was wont to sit with his Knights of the Round 
 Table. 
 
 To-day the "most noble" Order of the Garter is still a most noble 
 and exclusive fraternity. To be a Knight of the Garter is a distinc- 
 tion accorded to but 
 few. The Sovereign 
 of Great Britain 
 and the Prince 
 of Wales and the 
 flower o f modern 
 British chivalry, to 
 the number of not 
 more than 
 half a 
 
 tflH 
 
 hundred 
 
 
 THE ROUND TOWER
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 compose this most noble order of to-day. The insignia and 
 costumes of this most exclusive of fraternities are elaborate and 
 gorgeous. The young Prince of Wales when arrayed for his induc- 
 tion was a picture of old time sartorial splendor. He wore the 
 white-lined mantle of blue velvet the hood and coat of crimson 
 velvet the hat of black velvet with its white ostrich plumes from 
 which a heron plume of black stands stiffly forth; around his 
 neck was the collar of gold of twenty-six pieces each like a 
 coiled garter with the pendant badge of Great George killing the 
 dragon; the "lesser 
 George" appeared 
 upon the broad blue 
 ribbon over the 
 prince's shoulder; 
 the eight - pointed 
 star gleamed on his 
 left breast, and on 
 his left leg just be- 
 low the knee was the 
 garter itself of 
 azure velvet gold- 
 edged and gold-let- 
 tere d with the 
 familiar but often 
 ill-pronounced 
 motto, "Honi 
 soil qui mat 
 y pense" 
 "Shamed be 
 he, who evil 
 here imputes" 
 as Edward 
 III, founder 
 of the order, 
 
 BATTLEMENTS OF ROYALTY
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 THEIR MAJESTIES
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 exclaimed as he picked up and placed upon his kingly knee the 
 dainty garter, dropped at a dance by the fair Countess of Salisbury, 
 in the gay old days of the fourteenth century. If we ask why the 
 King of England was so graceful a master of Gallic phrase, we must 
 remember that his mother, Isabelle, was a princess of France. 
 
 Some serious authorities assure us that the order does not owe its 
 origin to this uncertified incident, but to the fact that Richard Coeur 
 de Lion tied leathern garters to the legs of his fighting knights in 
 Palestine, as binding reminders that they should fight to win 
 and win they 
 did thus 
 making the 
 garter a fit 
 emblem for a 
 chivalri c 
 order. 
 
 The garter 
 also became in 
 later centuries 
 the emblem 
 of a Tavern. 
 In Shakes- 
 peare's time 
 Windsor had 
 about seventy 
 taverns, the 
 most famous 
 of which was 
 the Garter, 
 presided over 
 by the genial 
 taverner 
 who will 
 live im- 
 
 H. R.H. THE PRINCE OF WALES ON THE OCCASION OF HIS INDUCTION TO THE MOST NOBLE ORDER 
 
 OF THE CARTER
 
 66 
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 mortal as "mine host of the Garter." There Sir John Falstaff 
 was wont to empty countless tankards of foaming ale, the while he 
 told the world what a mighty man Sir John Falstaff was. There, 
 as mine host said, were "his chamber, his house, his castle, his 
 standing-bed and truckle bed; 'tis painted about with the story of 
 the Prodigal, fresh and new." 
 
 From Windsor and its scenes reminiscent or suggestive of royal 
 splendor it is only a little way to the heart of English simplicity. In 
 the midst of the English Midlands is another Mecca for Americans 
 the old Jordans Meeting House of the Society of Friends. There 
 in the burying ground stands a simple tombstone bearing the name of 
 William Penn the great Quaker founder of Pennsylvania. 
 
 Son of a gallant fighter an admiral in the good graces of King 
 
 Charles II the young Penn became 
 one of the great leaders of the 
 peace-loving Quakers. His 
 life was one of striking 
 contrasts. As a pious 
 child he had visions 
 of heavenly glory; 
 as a youth he dallied 
 for a time amid the 
 gayeties of the court 
 of Louis XIV at 
 Versailles return- 
 ing to England, ac- 
 cording to Mr. 
 Pepys, "with t h e 
 vanity of the French 
 garb and affected 
 manner of speech 
 and gait." As a man 
 he wielded a stern 
 and trenchant re-
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 ligious pen; and as a 
 statesman he became 
 the founder and the 
 governor of a great 
 commonwealth in the 
 New World which he 
 wished to have known 
 as "Sylvania" a 
 name to which the 
 King insisted on pre- 
 fixing "Penn" in honor 
 of his friend and credi- 
 tor, the gallant 
 Admiral S i r 
 William Penn, 
 who was the 
 father of the 
 father of the 
 City of Broth- 
 erly Love. 
 
 From Jor- 
 dans it is 
 
 THE HORSESHOE CLOISTERS 
 
 but a short ride to the little village famous as 
 the birthplace of John Bunyan. In Elstow, not 
 far from the city of Bedford, the author of 
 Pilgrim's Progress first saw the light, in Novem - 
 ber, 1628. The house in which he lived, not the 
 one in which he was born, is the one well- 
 labelled landmark of the place. Bunyan was 
 the illiterate son of an itinerant tinker, but he 
 became one of the most powerful preachers of 
 his time, and in Pilgrim's Progress he com- 
 
 AT THE ROYAL PORTALS
 
 68 
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 THE OLD JORDANS MEETING HOUSE 
 
 posed a book which has served many a 
 wandering soul as a spiritual 
 and moral Baedeker. 
 
 Thus in touring 
 England, at every 
 turn the traveler is 
 greeted by some 
 thing, some house, 
 some place, perhaps 
 merely some monument, 
 evocative of some great 
 familiar name. The name of 
 
 WHERE QUAKERS MEET 
 
 Sulgrave is not 
 familiar, but 
 the dignified 
 mansion 
 that is 
 known 
 
 THE GRAVE OF WILLIAM PENN
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 69 
 
 as Sulgrave Manor takes on a meaning for us when we learn that 
 the Washingtons of Sulgrave were direct ancestors of George Wash- 
 ington, first President of the United States. The history of Sulgrave 
 
 ELSTOW, WHERE JOHN BUNYAN WAS BORN 
 
 Manor goes back to the days of the Dooms- 
 day Book, that great survey of England 
 by which William the Conqueror at- 
 tempted to learn the financial resources 
 of his new kingdom. The connection of 
 the Washingtons with Sulgrave appears 
 to have begun in 1539, when one 
 Lawrence Washington, of the town 
 of Northampton, bought the estate for 
 the sum of 321 145. lod. He was 
 trained to the law, but had become a 
 
 BUNYAN S COTTAGE
 
 7 o 
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 THE PARISH CHURCH OF SULGRAVE 
 
 wool merchant and like most wool merchants, apparently a 
 prosperous one. He was twice elected mayor of Northampton, and 
 seems to have been held in high regard by his friends and neighbors. 
 
 Lawrence Washington's eldest son, Robert, succeeded to the manor 
 on the death of his father in 1584. Robert Washington had six sons 
 and three daughters by his first wife, and three sons and three daugh- 
 ters by his second wife. Robert's eldest 
 son, Lawrence, was the father of the 
 Rev. Lawrence Washington, two 
 of whose sons, Lawrence and 
 John, migrated to America 
 and settled in Virginia in 
 1658. John Washington 
 was the great-grandfather 
 of the first President of 
 the United States. 
 
 All save a few of us will 
 have to read the above 
 
 IN SULGRAVE
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 paragraph more than once befo/e we get a good grip on its 
 contents: geneological details always make hard reading. 
 
 Sulgrave Manor passed out of the hands of the Washington 
 family in 1610, when Robert, son of the first Lawrence, sold the estate 
 to his nephew, Lawrence Makepeace. It passed through many hands 
 in the next three centuries, until in 1914 it was purchased by the 
 British Peace Centenary Committee. The funds for this purchase 
 were provided by a small group of public-spirited Britons, who deeded 
 the estate to a board of trustees, in perpetual trust for the American 
 people. 
 
 The manor house is 
 a two - storied lime- 
 stone building, roughly 
 L- shaped, the base of 
 the L being part of the 
 original home built by 
 the first Lawrence 
 Washington. Over the 
 doorway, in the two 
 spandrels, are the arms 
 of the Washington 
 family, those stars and 
 stripes of his fore- 
 fathers which undoubt- 
 edly furnished the 
 inspiration for the 
 Stars and Stripes of 
 the flag of the young 
 country which proudly 
 claims George Wash- 
 ington as father. The 
 poet Tupper, in 
 
 THE EECTORY
 
 7 2 
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 words more poetical than truthful, makes Benjamin Franklin tell 
 the story: 
 
 SULCRAVE MANOR 
 
 "Yes, Nathan, I proposed it to the Congress. 
 It was their leader's old crusading blazon. 
 Washington's coat, his own heraldic shield, 
 He never heard of it till fixed and done, 
 For on the spur when we must choose a flag, 
 Symboling independent unity, 
 We, and not he all was unknown to him 
 Took up his coat of arms and multiplied 
 And magnified it every way to this 
 Our glorious national banner." 
 
 At the western end of the village is the 
 parish church, dedicated to Saint James. There 
 one may see in front of the seat that once be- 
 longed to the owners of the manor house, a grey 
 
 ELCOMING 
 VISITORS
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 73 
 
 THE ANCESTRAL HOME OF THE 
 WASHINGTONS 
 
 slab, with three old brasses 
 let into it. At the top of 
 the slab, is a thin plate, 
 bearing the Washington 
 arms. The inscription on 
 the brass follows: 
 
 "Here lyeth ye bodys of 
 Laurence Wasshington Gent. 
 & Amee his wyf by whome 
 he had issue iiii sons & vii 
 daught's We laurence dyed 
 ye .... day of .... ano 15.... 
 & Amee deceassed the vi day 
 of October ano dni 1564." 
 
 Evidently the husband 
 ordered the slab placed after 
 his wife's death, and left 
 blank spaces for the date of 
 his own death. But his suc- 
 
 THE WASHINGTON COAT OF ARMS
 
 74 
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 cessors seem to have thought little of such details and neglected 
 to have the inscription completed. 
 
 Only five miles from Sulgrave is a spot of which every English- 
 speaking child hears long before becoming aware that such a person as 
 
 THE "COCK HORSES" OF TO-UAY
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 75 
 
 George Washington ever lived. 
 For what child has not been ad- 
 vised time and again to "ride a 
 cock-horse to Banbury Cross"? 
 We look with reminiscent en- 
 thusiasm upon the modern 
 Banbury Cross, a little cross on 
 a fairly tall Gothic spire, mark- 
 
 ing a crossroads near the center 
 of the town. In vain we watch 
 for the cock-horse but motor- 
 cycle side-cars pass by the dozen, 
 or halt at the garage opposite 
 the town hall to purchase 
 "petrol" or renew a tire. 
 
 Greenwich is another British 
 
 ON THE MERIDIAN OF GREENWICH
 
 7 6 
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 place-name familiar to us all from childhood. It thrills us there- 
 fore to stand in Greenwich and presumably upon the world- 
 famous meridian of Greenwich, the zero line of terrestrial geography. 
 The buildings of the Royal Observatory, most of them dating from 
 1675, mark the spot where in one sense time begins and ends - 
 where East in truth meets West and Orient and Occident are one. 
 
 THE GREENWICH ROYAL NAVAL COLLEGE 
 
 The sturdy, honest-faced, old Standard clock at the Observatory 
 gate marks Greenwich time the time sacred to all the thousands 
 of conscientious skippers who at this moment are sailing the seven 
 seas. The navigator who does not know what time it is at Green- 
 wich is as good as lost but we know that aboard every worthy ship 
 to-day afloat, there is a carefully guarded chronometer, infallibly 
 correct, upon the dial of which two faithful hands are marking Green- 
 wich time. For the traveler who cannot spare time to go to either
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 77 
 
 SONS OF SEAMEN 
 
 of the poles, I can recommend the zero line at Greenwich as a giver 
 of a geographical thrill that is worth while. 
 
 It was in the now vanished Royal Plaisance of Greenwich that 
 the much-to-be-married Henry VIII was born and there, too, his 
 manly daughter, good Queen Bess, was brought into a troubled world. 
 
 AFTER YEARS 
 OF HONORABLE SERVICE
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 A COURT AT CAMBEIDO1 
 
 THE FITZWILLIAM MUSEUM
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 79 
 
 In Greenwich, the great Nelson, hero of Trafalgar, savior of his 
 country, lay in state after his famous and to him fatal victory. 
 The British Navy feels at home in Greenwich. The vast hospital 
 and Royal Naval College on the site of the vanished palace the 
 Royal Naval School with its wholesome horde of a thousand sturdy 
 sons of seamen and marines the training ship on shore and the 
 myriad ships from the far ends of the earth that glide past Green- 
 
 ST. JOHN S COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE 
 
 wich up the winding Thames toward the great port of London all 
 these things endear the place to men whose lives are lived upon the 
 deep in the service of the far-flung British Empire. 
 
 Less famous than the Thames, but equally dear to many British 
 hearts, is the little river Cam, on whose banks stands the University 
 of Cambridge. Most beautiful of the many bridges of "Cam-Bridge" 
 is the Bridge of Sighs, joining the spacious piles of St. John's College. 
 This was the college of Cecil, Lord Burghley, Wentworth, Roger 
 Ascham, Wordsworth and Lord Palmerston to name only a few
 
 8o 
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 THE BACKS ALONG THE CAM 
 
 of its notable alumni. But every one 
 of the colleges of Cambridge has 
 distinguished sons, and the ros- 
 ter of their alumni reads like 
 a list of the leaders in every 
 field of human enterprise. 
 Particularly is this true 
 of Trinity, the largest col- 
 legiate foundation in 
 Cambridge, and larger 
 than any in Oxford. Isaac 
 Newton, Byron, Macauley, 
 Tennyson, were all Trin- 
 ity men, but as the Ency- 
 clopedia Britannica carefully 
 explains to the seeker for 
 knowledge, the eminent 
 
 CLASSIC CHIMNEYS
 
 ENGLAND 81 
 
 alumni of Trinity are really "too numerous to admit of 
 selection." 
 
 Cambridge is a city of unusual charm and dignity. Keenly to 
 appreciate that charm, the visitor must glide along the Cam, between 
 those stately gardens which are called with a lamentable lack of 
 the respectful admiration they deserve, simply and brutally "The 
 
 THE TUDOR ARMS ABOVE THE GATE OF CHRIST'S COLLEGE 
 
 Backs," because they are behind the colleges. The gate to Christ's 
 College, where John Milton and Charles Darwin studied, epitomizes 
 architecturally the medieval dignity of Cambridge. 
 
 Emmanuel College, in Cambridge, has one alumnus whose name 
 is best known because of his connection with another university in 
 another city of Cambridge, in New England for it was the bequest 
 from John Harvard of some three hundred books and one-half the 
 value of his estate, amounting to less than four thousand dollars,
 
 82 
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 THE HARVARD HOUSE AT STRATFORD-ON-AVON 
 
 was aroused through the efforts of Miss 
 Marie Corelli, who had rescued the fine old 
 building from oblivion and decay. Thus 
 the Harvard House takes its place, in all 
 its quaintness and dignity, among the 
 sights of Stratford, to show us what the Strat- 
 ford homes were like in Shakespeare's time. 
 
 that was commemo- 
 rated in the naming of 
 Harvard College. The 
 home of John Har- 
 vard's mother, Kather- 
 ine Rogers, still stands 
 in Shakespeare's town 
 upon the River Avon. 
 For more than three 
 hundred years it has 
 stood there, but it has 
 been known as the Har- 
 vard House only since 
 1909, when it was 
 purchased by Mr. Ed- 
 ward Morris of Chi- 
 cago, and presented by 
 him to Harvard Uni- 
 versity, to be preserved 
 as a memorial of John 
 Harvard. His interest 
 
 JOHN HARVARD
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 THE HOME OF JOHN HARVARD'S MOTHER 
 
 FY BY EDWARD MORRIS
 
 84 
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 The Shakespeare home itself the house in which he lived his 
 wedded life and doubtless wrote his greatest plays was almost with- 
 out question, very like in aspect to the Harvard House, but alas it 
 has completely disappeared. It was known as New Place. It was 
 demolished by a strangely thoughtless clergyman into whose posses- 
 sion it had come. This happened in the year 1759 when there was 
 
 THE SHAKEPEARE HOUSE 
 
 unfortunately no enthusiastic lady novelist to protest against the 
 threatened vandalism no American capitalist to purchase and pre- 
 serve the structure which would have become a heritage so precious 
 for all lovers of the Bard of Avon. 
 
 But the house in which the eyes of Shakespeare opened upon the 
 world that was one day to acknowledge him its master dramatist, still 
 stands as a shrine to which thousands of grateful pilgrims make their 
 annual way. No fewer than thirty thousand visitors knock at the
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 THE STAIRS DOWN WHICH THE BABY SHAKESPEARE DOUBTLESS TUMBLED 
 
 WHERE YOUNG WILL SHAKESPEARE SPENT HIS BOYHOOD DAYS
 
 86 
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 IS THE ROOM WHERE HE WAS BOR 
 
 when men demanded homes that 
 would endure and shelter 
 many successive gener- 
 ations. Of course 
 much careful restora- 
 tion has been lavish- 
 ed on the precious 
 little pile that shel- 
 tered Shakespeare's 
 early youth; it has 
 been tended and 
 watched over with 
 an almost religious zeal 
 
 door in the course of 
 every twelvemonth ; 
 but the wear and tear 
 of sixty thousand rev- 
 e r e n t , and ofttimes 
 hurried feet, have left 
 no brutal marks upon 
 the floors or stairs of 
 John Shakespeare's 
 well - constructed and 
 well-cared for cottage. 
 The paternal cottage 
 is in fact composed of 
 two cottages brought 
 under one roof old 
 timbered dwellings 
 conscientiously put to- 
 gether by the carpenters 
 and builders of an age 
 
 HOLY TRINITY
 
 ENGLAND 87 
 
 by the officers and employees of the "Birthplace Trust" which now 
 owns and controls it. For perfect, meticulous house-keeping, com- 
 mend me to the worthy guardians of the Shakespeare cottage. No 
 insect is allowed to dig its fangs into the hallowed timbers no 
 rain-drop to steal insinuatingly between the shingles of the roof 
 no cobwebs are allowed to sway in cozy corners no mildew 
 
 THE BUST OP SHAKESPEARE LOOKS DOWN 
 
 ARE'S GRAVE
 
 88 
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 or dry rot to attack hidden vulnerable places. Everything 
 is scrupulously scrubbed, religiously rubbed, painstakingly pol- 
 ished; and, to the horror of many a conservative and warm-blooded 
 Briton, the place is actually kept warm and livable in winter by 
 means of an American installation of hot water radiators. The rooms 
 
 THE SHAKESPEARE MEMORIAL
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 89 
 
 on the ground floor are so crowded with interesting souvenirs of the 
 poet and his times as to produce the effect of a museum rather than 
 that of a private dwelling; but up-stairs things have a more home- 
 like look and there we find an atmosphere more pleasingly domestic. 
 Very simple, very bare and yet very impressive is the little upper 
 chamber in which Shakespeare was born on the twenty-third day 
 
 of April, ^^ 1564. Little 
 
 J -^^***** -l ^**^^^^^ 
 
 did she ^^^*^ ^^^^ dream 
 
 THE COTTAGE OF ANNE HATHAWAY 
 
 the mother of the child whose first cry was uttered in this 
 humble room so many years ago that even after the passing of 
 three full centuries, an endless procession of admiring humanity 
 would be flowing in and out of the low narrow door that the 
 world would make of this house a shrine of pilgrimage, because 
 of the amazing genius of the babe so like to other English 
 babes who then lay mewling in her arms. But still they 
 come, thirty thousand and more each year, from the farthest
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 WHERE THEY SAT BY THE FIRE 
 
 corners of the Eng- 
 lish-speaking 
 world, to enter with 
 respectful hush, 
 this upper room 
 wherein her baby 
 boy was born. We 
 come to-day, 
 among the rest, 
 to pay our humble 
 share of the bound- 
 less tribute that 
 humanity so gladly 
 pays to him who voiced so clearly and so revealingly the thoughts, 
 ideals, and aspirations that dwell, silent, undefined or inarticulate 
 within us. It is the vast and deep humanity in Shakespeare that 
 draws all the human race to him. He made himself one of the 
 great spokesmen of mankind and men have listened to him and 
 will listen to him, gladly and responsively, so long as his words 
 glow upon the pages of human understanding. 
 
 Between the cradle and the grave he traveled far, touching in his 
 
 plays the farthest 
 ends of the narrower 
 world of his own 
 day and touching, 
 from time to time, 
 in his poetic flights, 
 the very stars. And 
 yet his cradle and 
 grave are situate 
 within the limits of 
 one little English 
 town. His last sleep,
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 like his first, is on the banks of the Avon, in Stratford amid the 
 scenes of his childhood, his maturity, and his life's end. His bones 
 rest in the chancel of the Church of the Holy Trinity which, like 
 the Birthplace itself, is now a 
 shrine to which come pilgrims 
 from many lands. Forme 
 twenty-eight crowded years had 
 passed since I had entered the 
 little sanctuary. I had not 
 
 THE LOVE PATH OF THE POET
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 been in Stratford since I had come as a boy of sixteen in the 
 course of my first European tour. Yet nothing seems greatly changed. 
 Everything is as it used to be with one exception. The famous 
 tinted bust of the poet recognized as one of the few reliable, con- 
 vincing likenesses of the great one has been screened by a thick 
 screen of plate glass. I ask the sexton why the image has been thus 
 enclosed as in a show case. He glances suspiciously at the ladies of 
 our party and replies, "It's because of the Suffragettes, Sir; you never 
 
 can tell what they 
 may be doing next, 
 Sir; they might 
 come bombarding 
 him because he 
 never asked for 
 votes for women." 
 The old inscription 
 on the slab in the 
 pavement beneath 
 which he lies still 
 quaintly curses him 
 who shall attempt 
 to move his bones 
 still blesses him 
 that spares those 
 stones. 
 
 Could he rise 
 and wander forth 
 from the old 
 church to contem- 
 plate the Stratford 
 of our day, he 
 would not feel him- 
 self a stranger in 
 his native town. 
 
 HOW TO ''BURN A CANDLE AT BOTH ENDS*'
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 93 
 
 The Avon River still flows gently past the green lawns and the 
 gloriously green gardens of old Stratford; in it are mirrored the same 
 venerable trees that graced its banks when he was wont to wander 
 there. He would see very little that would be new or strange 
 to him save the conspicuous bulk of the great Memorial that bears 
 his name. Within it he would find a library filled with the thousands 
 
 of books that men have written about him and his writings. There, 
 too, he would find a museum filled with souvenirs of him, and a 
 theater, on the stage of which his plays have annual presentation. 
 
 It is only about a mile from Stratford to the tiny village where the 
 author of Romeo and Juliet did his own love-making. At Shottery 
 dwelt the presumably fair and unquestionably mature Anne Hatha- 
 way to whom the as yet uncelebrated Stratford youth paid court.
 
 94 
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 WARWICK CASTLE 
 
 Shakespeare was eighteen years of age and Anne confessed to twenty- 
 six when they were married. The cottage home of the Hathaways 
 
 THE VELVET LAWN
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 95 
 
 stands to-day in all the quaintness and 
 beauty of its sixteenth century design. 
 It is perhaps the prettiest cottage in all 
 England, and one of the 
 most frequented, for tourists 
 come by thousands to 
 see the very fireside 
 
 where the 
 creator of the 
 S o n n e t s 
 wooed and 
 won the dam- 
 sel o f his 
 choice. 
 
 TOWERS OF 
 WARWICK
 
 Q6 ENGLAND 
 
 Even to-day we find a very charming damsel waiting to greet 
 us at the gate. She leads us in and from room to room, ex- 
 plaining in fascinating dialect the many curious and interesting 
 details of the perfectly preserved old dwelling. She shows us the 
 wooden door of the brick oven, the heavy pewter .plates ranged on 
 the shelves and the square wooden dishes with hollows for the salt 
 
 KENILWORTH 
 
 cut in the corners. She shows us also a real old fashioned "rush- 
 light" in its holder, or "clip candlestick." It was in candlesticks like 
 this, she tells us, that people used to "burn the candle at both ends" 
 and she proceeds to show us how it was done. The wick is made 
 of the dried pith of a rush dipped in oil or tallow and is very long and 
 slender; it is held by the "clip" of the crude iron candlestick and, as 
 it burns, it must be moved upwards from time to time, requiring
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 97 
 
 almost constant attention. It gives at 
 best a very feeble light, and therefore 
 extravagant folk were wont to fix 
 both ends of the wick in the clip and 
 thus literally "burn the candle at both 
 ends" as the saying had it. 
 
 From this humble but historic 
 home the traveler usually goes direct- 
 ly to another equally historic home 
 but one very far from humble. It 
 is Warwick Castle, one of the noblest 
 and at the same time most home- 
 like fortified palaces of the feudal 
 period. It lifts its towers high above 
 a lovely stretch of the River Avon. The oldest of its towers 
 Caesar's Tower was reared shortly after the Norman Conquest. 
 Here was the home and stronghold of Richard Neville "The Last 
 of the Barons" and the most famous of the Earls of Warwick 
 
 "MY HOUSE" 
 
 A LAND OF HOMES
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 "the good fighter but poor general" - the 
 skillful manager of men who helped to seat 
 and unseat Edward IV and for a time 
 reseated Henry VI on England's 
 throne the masterful spirit of 
 his time who perished in defeat in 
 1471 but is still remembered for 
 his victories and still called by the 
 proud epithet of "King Maker." 
 Only about five miles by road from 
 this perfectly preserved and exquisitely 
 maintained citadel of the great Warwick stands 
 e shattered, ivy-clad ruin of another famous Eng- 
 lish castle made doubly famous by the familiar novel to which it 
 gave its name. The Kenilworth that rises before our imagination 
 at mention of the name, is the Kenilworth of Walter Scott rather 
 than the Kenilworth of Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester and one- 
 time host of England's Virgin Queen. Scott has peopled for us the 
 lordly halls and chambers of this now almost formless abode of 
 Elizabethan splendor. His prose evokes the living past brings 
 
 LUGGAGE LABELS 
 
 A WESTMORLAND WAY STATION
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 99 
 
 THE MAIN STREET OF BURTON 
 
 before our mental vision the events and incidents of a far-off 
 gorgeous age almost as vividly as the film of modern kinematog- 
 raphy brings to our eyes the things that we have heard of but have 
 never seen and makes them real to us. 
 
 THE TOWN OF BURTON IS VERY MUCH LIKE THE TOWN OF HOLME
 
 100 
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 Despite its many castles England is primarily a land of homes 
 of homes that have been homes for generations. The child of to-day 
 who speaks of "my house" is nearly always the descendant of fore- 
 bears who have called the same structure "my house" since it was 
 built by the founder of the family long centuries ago. 
 
 Personally I have some reason to suspect that the "my house" 
 of my remote ancestors was in Westmorland. A hint of this came 
 
 N THE LAKE COUNTRY 
 
 to me many years ago, in 1900, while en route to the Passion Play 
 at Oberammergau. In the railway carriage was a British matron 
 embarrassed with the many bags and bundles that accompany the 
 touring subjects of her far-flung monarchy ; in the confusion of arrival 
 I volunteered to handle some of this impedimenta, and in lifting one 
 piece of luggage I noted some old English railway labels pasted upon 
 it. One of these interested me because such letters as were visible
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 seemed to spell my name. There was the B-u-r-t and just far enough 
 along there was the 1-m-e. My curiosity aroused, I asked permission 
 to remove the outer label and there beneath it was an older label 
 reading "BURTON AND HOLME, L. and N. W. Ry." I present 
 my card by way of explanation. The lady in return explains that 
 the two little Westmorland towns of Burton and Holme are served 
 by one station with a hyphenated name. Naturally, when I found 
 myself many years later motoring through the Westmorland country, 
 I did not fail to visit and photograph the station and the towns that 
 bear with the exception of the final "s" my name. 
 
 Not far beyond these name- 
 sake towns of mine we find 
 ourselves in the heart of 
 one of the most cele- 
 brated scenic regions 
 of all England the 
 Lake District, home 
 of the poets of a recent 
 past and the beloved 
 
 THE HOTEL
 
 102 
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 playground of the 
 beauty - lovers of 
 the present. The 
 English Lakes, in 
 the northwestern 
 corner of the King- 
 1 dom, are very lit- 
 tle lakes indeed. 
 Grasmere itself, 
 upon the shores of 
 which we spend a 
 pair of happy days, 
 is but one single 
 mile from end to 
 end, and only about eight hundreds yards across. But it is beauti- 
 ful so beautiful that poets who have charmed the world with 
 
 IS DOTE COTTAGE 
 
 DOVE COTTAGE AT THE END OF THE LANE
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 103 
 
 THE GRASMERE CHURCH 
 
 their words, have been happy to spend 
 their years within the green bowl 
 formed by the low gentle moun- 
 tains that rise around about it. 
 So many poets have suc- 
 cumbed to the charm of this 
 region that we now speak of 
 "The Lake School of Poetry," 
 and of the "Lake Poets." 
 The founder, and for a long 
 time the master of this 
 school, was William Words- 
 worth. Of his eighty years upon 
 this planet Wordsworth elected to 
 spend three-score in this exquisite para- 
 dise of inspiration. For nine years from 
 1799 to 1808 he lived in Dove Cottage at the 
 end of a pretty little Grasmere lane. Dorothy, his sister, dwelt 
 there with him; hither, too, came Coleridge and Southey and 
 DeQuincey. Dove Cottage was for those nine years the rendezvous 
 
 of those artists in 
 words who painted 
 with their pens im- 
 mortal pictures of 
 the beautiful lake 
 country which they 
 loved so much and 
 understood so 
 well. Wordsworth 
 died in 1850. His 
 simple grave is in 
 the crowded 
 churchyard of the 
 Grasmere Church. 
 Near him lie Mary, 
 
 WORDSWORTH S ORAVE
 
 104 
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 the 
 
 his wife, and Dorothy, his best-beloved 
 sister, critic and companion. 
 
 Another genius great lover 
 of beauty in all forms sleeps 
 in another churchyard near 
 another lake. John Ruskin 
 sleeps at Coniston beneath 
 a Celtic cross, not far from 
 his lakeside home at Brant- 
 wood. Tennyson once dwelt 
 on the shore of that same 
 lake; in fact the poets of Eng- 
 land were all i n love with 
 England'slakes. Shelley and Keats 
 and Matthew Arnold often came 
 seeking inspiration in the beauty of 
 lovable and lovely region a beauty that lies not 
 only in the lakes and landscapes but is expressed 
 in a thousand charming ways by the villages, the highways, the 
 woodlands, and the byways. The country seems like a vast private 
 park in which fine animals have been turned out to pasture. The 
 sheep and cattle that seem to place themselves with artistic dis- 
 crimination, at just the right spot in the scene to complete the 
 
 composition of the picture we are 
 in the act of making, may 
 be regarded b y t h e 
 traveler as ideal 
 " artistic proper- 
 ties" but to the 
 hard-h eaded 
 farmers and 
 breeders like 
 those w e find a s- 
 sembled at the fair of
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 105 
 
 Ambles'de, these same artistic properties 
 represent very practical and negotiable 
 belongings in which reside rich possibil- 
 ities of prosaic profit. 
 
 And yet we learn that the poetic 
 beauty of their corner of old England is 
 very dear to these serious-looking folk 
 whose stern British physiognomies we 
 study with interest as they study with 
 the air of experts, the fattened ovine 
 prize-winners in the various sheep-pens. 
 In 1883 there was established a Lake 
 District Defence Society, the object of 
 which was, in the words of its constitu- 
 tion "to offer a powerful and consoli- 
 dated opposi- 
 
 BRITISH BLONDES 
 
 tion to the in- 
 troduction of 
 unnecessary 
 railways into the Lake District, and to all 
 other speculative schemes which may ap- 
 pear likely to impair its beauty or destroy 
 its present character." 
 
 We of the ever-changing new world are 
 prone to criticise the conservatism with 
 which the English regard all efforts to alter 
 the established ways of doing things. We 
 like to try out new devices ; they are content 
 with the time-tried installations that their 
 fathers found to their old-fashioned liking. 
 Of this fact we were reminded when we 
 one day discussed with a most intelligent 
 Englishwoman, the important matter of 
 keeping one's house warm in winter. She, 
 as the principal of a well-known boarding 
 
 AN ENGLISH FACE
 
 io6 
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 school for girls, had just completed the equipping of a new and "very 
 modern" dormitory building of a hundred rooms in which as she 
 proudly informed us there were one hundred fire-places one little 
 coal-burning grate in every room! "Dear me, no!" she exclaimed, as 
 we expressed surprise that she had not installed a central heating 
 plant. "No, I wouldn't have those horrid steamy pipes running all 
 over the place! Each girl can have her own cosy little fire." 
 
 SHF.EP FAIR
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 107 
 
 So every cold day, 
 one hundred little fires 
 were to be kindled 
 and after giving forth a 
 cheerful smudge, pro- 
 ceed like every grate 
 fire that I have ever 
 tried to nurse in Eng- 
 land to expire and 
 
 GOOD JUDOES OF WOOL AND MUTTON 
 
 classic 
 
 chill, so char- 
 acteristic of the British 
 interior, triumphant in 
 its suggestion of a sep- 
 ulcher for the living. 
 
 But happily the 
 average American 
 pampered by the all too 
 efficient heating appa- 
 ratus of his own hotel 
 or home rarely suffers
 
 ENGLAND 
 108 
 
 the discomforts of the British winter. He comes as we have come in 
 summer when the tepid charm of the sun-warmed English out-of-doors 
 keeps him continually in the open where he finds so many allurement 
 that his own land can never offer him. 
 
 As for the excellent roads, they seem to have been created 
 pressly for the pleasure of the motorist, except the steep rough mile 
 or more that leads over the Honister Pass. We had been warned at 
 the hotel that the descent from the pass was "absolutely impossible 
 for motor cars," and so we garaged our car for the day and for 
 safety's sake embarked for this wild ride on one of the coaches 
 operated by the local stables. With ostentatious care the driver 
 negotiates the fearful incline from the summit; as we touch bottom 
 safely we breathe sighs of relief. Our sighs are echoed by the honks 
 of a tin something that has come sneaking down behind our coach, 
 and there, safe and sound, at the foot of a descent regarded as "im- 
 
 "THE KIND GREEN COUNTRY'
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 109 
 
 HONISTER PASS 
 
 possible for motor cars," is one of those inevitable, unafraid, and 
 indestructible American contrivances commonly known as a flivver ! 
 But afterall.the ideal way to tour the Lake District is not by motor 
 
 coach and four. 
 Traveling in this de- 
 i g h t f u 1 1 y old- 
 fashioned way we 
 have time to 
 see, to taste, 
 and to enjoy 
 the quiet 
 beauty o f the 
 scenes through 
 which we make our 
 
 "COACH AND FORD"
 
 no 
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 lazy way. Let us be glad that there is left one lovely region where 
 the old-time four-in-hand still has its place upon the modern road. 
 For a word-picture that suggests and reveals much of the 
 peculiar charm of the English country-side, I cannot do better 
 than to bring before you these paragraphs from a novel by 
 Beatrice Grimshaw, who tells us of scenes that lie "under the 
 gentle English sun, soft and glittering as spun glass. The shadows 
 are English shadows, blurred, uncertain, blue. There is nothing 
 in the world so green as this English grass, sloping up beyond the 
 grey, moss-painted garden walls, field after field inclined against 
 the sky. Oh, the gentle country, the kind green country, how 
 it purrs at you as it lies there basking in the tepid sun! It has no 
 harm in it it would never do you ill, this tamed and fattened 
 England. Other countries you have to handle with care, or they 
 may strike at you with claws of plague and fever; they pounce upon 
 you with tornadoes, they bite you, sting you, earthquake and torrent
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 in 
 
 "THIS TAMED AND FATTENED ENGLAND*' 
 
 you out of existence. All the time, whether you remember it or 
 whether you do not, they are out after you. They mean to get 
 you if they can. But this England it wants us to pet it, I could 
 swear!" This voices perfectly the unforgettable impressions that 
 we carry with us as we leave the English Lakeland. 
 
 Although we have merely glided with modern haste from lake
 
 112 
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 to lake and shrine to shrine, through this compact but enormously 
 significant little earthly paradise of the poets of a calmer, happier 
 yesterday, we feel all the richer, spiritually, for our brief, hurried con- 
 tacts with its memory-hallowed places and its classic expressions of 
 natural beauty. 
 
 So, too, our longer journey from Land's End at the southwestern 
 tip of Britain, hither to these northern dales that skirt the hilly bor- 
 derland of the old Scottish kingdom, has given us a fuller, richer con- 
 cept of the land that men call England. 
 
 To see and know all England as it should be seen and known, would 
 be the task of a long, strenuous, and studious life. We have but 
 glimpsed the. glories historic, artistic, scenic, and heroic of this 
 land that has meant so much to Humanity and to Civilization. But 
 we have seen and learned enough, even in the course of our haphazard 
 pursuit of the picturesque and striking things that appeal to the 
 pleasure-seeking wanderer, to fix us firmly in our faith that without 
 England the Earth would be a poorer planet the history of Human- 
 kind, a story lacking one of its grandest chapters and Civilization, 
 a thing that had failed in its world-girdling destiny.
 
 SCOTLAND
 
 % fc 
 
 r 
 
 GOTLAND 
 
 'T A HE conspicuous part which Scotland has 
 * played on the great stage of human 
 activities is manifestly out of all proportion to the area of 
 Scotland and to the numbers of her sons. That a people 
 numerically far less considerable than the population of London 
 should have left so deep an impression on the world's history, re- 
 ligion, literature, and industry, inspires an admiring and a sympa- 
 thetic interest in the homeland of that people. Every year thousands 
 of eager travelers throng to visit the historic sites, the religious 
 shrines, the literary landmarks, and the industrial centers of Scotland. 
 To leave England and cross the border into Scotland is like com- 
 ing out of a carefully kept park into the real wide open country. In
 
 u6 
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 England the traveler feels the charm of studiously finished scenery, 
 as he motors along the perfect roads between the accurately clipped 
 hedges, beyond which lies the sleek and well-groomed landscape, 
 dotted' with model villages or dominated by the towers of great 
 cathedrals. In Scotland he feels the charm of a land not yet com- 
 pletely tamed by man, a land of ruder aspect, wider vistas, freer air. 
 
 IN SCOTLAND 
 
 The customs, too, were once upon a time far freer than in Eng- 
 land, if we are to credit what we have heard of Gretna Green, a village 
 just three-quarters of a mile beyond the English boundary line, a 
 place to which eloping English couples formerly came to marry in 
 the freer Scottish way. According to the freer Scottish law, a mar- 
 riage might be "constituted by declarations made by the man and 
 woman that they presently do take each other for husband and 
 wife." The intending bride and groom had only to declare their 
 wish to belong to one another. Witnesses were not required by Scot-
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 117 
 
 GRETNA GREEN 
 
 tish law, but it was customary to call them in, because their presence 
 simplified the matter of evidence. The village blacksmith of Gretna 
 Green, whose forge stood at the cross-roads, was 
 a most willing and ever available witness. He 
 kept an informal marriage register and made 
 a very good thing out of it, for the happy 
 couples who left their names therein 
 never failed to leave some practical token 
 of their gratitude. Thus the worthy 
 blacksmith helped to weld the chains 
 for about two hundred couples every 
 year. Since 1856, however, business has 
 been somewhat slack, because a new law 
 passed in that year requires one of the 
 twain to reside in Scotland for three weeks 
 before the troth may be plighted, even at 
 the anvil. Thus the anvil now offers no greater
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 A COUNTRY POST OFFICE 
 
 advantages in the matter of expedition than the altar, and the 
 present-day blacksmith devotes his time to shoeing horses. 
 
 From Gretna Green good roads invite us northward, through a 
 
 bare and open pasture region alive 
 with woolly flocks. The 
 sheep bred in this region 
 are chiefly Cheviots, a 
 breed which takes its 
 name from the range of 
 hills stretching along the 
 boundary between Scot- 
 land and England. The 
 Cheviot breed is very hardy 
 and the straight wool is 
 very close-set. The unshorn 
 sheep on the range have a 
 rather unwashed look, and as 
 
 "GOOD MORNING!"
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 119 
 
 we watch the operations at a shearing camp we learn that much 
 grease and dirt comes off with the wool. It is not unusual for the 
 weight of a clip to be only 30 per cent net wool. 
 
 The lamb is first clipped at the age of eight or ten months, for 
 "lamb's wool." Later clips give what is known as "wether wool." 
 
 Certain breeds ^^ of sne ep will 
 
 u ^^*""*^ "-^-^ 
 
 yield as ^^ ^-\ much as 
 
 THE SELKIRK RILLS 
 
 ten or twelve pounds of wool per head. When mechanical clippers 
 are used one skilled man can clip two hundred sheep a day, but 
 we find the shearers working with the old-style shears. The coat 
 comes off in a single piece, retaining the form of the shorn animal; 
 at first glance it looks as if the poor creature had been skinned alive. 
 These woolly coats are rolled and stowed in big bags holding
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 SHEARING TIME IN THE sn KIRKS 
 
 a hundred weight. The freshly shorn animals look strangely clean 
 
 and white as they slip from the shearing benches. 
 
 As we motor northward the rolling region takes on a barer, bleaker 
 
 look. At times no sign of human habitation can be seen. Then 
 
 suddenly we round 
 a bend and find our- 
 selves confronted 
 by a company of 
 youthful clansmen, 
 armed with Indian 
 clubs and c o m - 
 manded by a grace- 
 ful Scottish damsel. 
 They are the pupils, 
 she the teacher of a 
 little highland 
 school. Except the 
 BUSY SHEARS school house there
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 121 
 
 SHORN CHEVIOTS 
 
 WOOL SACKS 
 
 is not a building anywhere in 
 sight. Some of these chil- 
 dren come every school- 
 day many miles on foot 
 from their scattered 
 homes. "Yes," said 
 the teacher, "it is 
 hard in winter 
 time." 
 
 We took a pic- 
 ture of the 
 entire 
 " faculty " 
 and the 
 " student 
 body " 
 of this
 
 122 
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 CHAPEL HOPE SCHOOL, ST. MARY S LOCH 
 
 isolated educational institution, the Chapel Hope School, of St. 
 Mary's Loch, Yarrow, Selkirkshire. I kept my promise to send 
 them a few copies of the photograph. In acknowledgment I had a 
 letter from the young "faculty," in which, after thanking me, she 
 
 THE ENTIRE FACULTY AND STl-'UENT BOD 1 *
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 123 
 
 says with charming Scotch directness, "If you could send six pictures 
 more, each child would have one." And then she adds with Scotch 
 hard common sense, "but if you do not send the pictures the children 
 can very well do without." 
 
 From young Scotland our thoughts were soon turned to old Scot- 
 land for that same night we slept near Melrose Abbey, the most ar- 
 tistic and most famous reminder of the Catholic era of pre-Reforma- 
 tion days. The Abbey has been repeatedly destroyed by warring 
 
 THROUGH THE PASS 
 
 armies, repeatedly rebuilt and rebeautified. Reformers, in their 
 pious zeal, have profaned and defaced it in the name of their religion. 
 But to-day, painstakingly restored, its broken stones replaced one 
 upon another, the Abbey stands as a pathetic reminder of the piety 
 and art that reared it, the brutality and intolerance that wrecked it, 
 and the belated repentant appreciation of its beauty that assures to- 
 day the conservation of its lovely shell. 
 
 Within the Abbey, near the chancel, is a memorial startling in its
 
 I24 SCOTLAND 
 
 simplicity, yet dramatic in its evocation of the heroic age of Scot- 
 land. It is a modest stone upon which a heart of bright red immor- 
 telles has been placed by pious hands. The words "Bannockburn" 
 and "Rest, Brave Heart" tell us that here lies the heart of Bruce. 
 Here, beneath the ancient pavement, the Scots of old buried the heart 
 
 MELROSE ABBEY 
 
 of their beloved hero, Robert the 
 Bruce, who was crowned King of 
 Scotland in the year 1306, won the 
 great fight against the English at 
 Bannockburn in 1314, and died a 
 year after his title as sovereign of 
 independent Scotland had been 
 definitely recognized by England in 
 the treaty of 1328. 
 
 WHERE THE HEART OF 
 ROBERT BRUCE LIES BURIED
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 The story goes 
 that Robert had 
 made a vow to un- 
 dertake a pilgrimage 
 to the Holy Sepul- 
 c h e r but finding 
 himself at the point 
 of death before he 
 could fulfill the vow, 
 he begged his faith- 
 ful friend and fol- 
 lower, James Doug- 
 las, to convey his 
 heart to Jerusalem. 
 Douglas set out, 
 bearing the heart of 
 the Bruce, but per- 
 ished fighting 
 against the Moors 
 
 FIVE HUNDRED YEARS OF AGE 
 
 in Spain. Happily his precious luggage 
 was not lost; the heart was saved, 
 brought back to Scotland and 
 interred beside the altar of 
 the Abbey. Proof that this 
 tale is true came to light in 
 1821, when the tomb of 
 Bruce at Dunfermline was 
 opened and examination of 
 the skeleton revealed a sev- 
 ered breast bone severed 
 five hundred years before, 
 for the removal of the heart. 
 
 THE CHOIR OF MELROSE
 
 126 
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 SCOTT S NOBI.E MANSION 
 
 The ruin of another famous Abbey, only a few miles from Melrose, 
 contains the tomb of one, to whose world-famous novels we owe most 
 of our notions of Scotland and her history. Sir Walter Scott's last 
 resting place is in the aisle of the ruined north transept. The Abbey 
 estate belonged ^^^^^^^^^^^ at one time 
 to h i s ^^^^ ^^^^ ancestors, 
 
 THE RIVER TWEED AT ABBOTSFORD
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 127 
 
 AT ABBOTSFORD 
 
 but was lost through 
 their extravagance. Sir 
 Walter used to say: "We 
 have nothing left of Dry- 
 burgh, except the right 
 of stretching our bones 
 there." In life the novel- 
 ist dwelt in dignified 
 splendor on his estate of 
 Abbotsford, in a noble 
 mansion that he built on 
 the banks of the River 
 Tweed. There Scot- 
 land's literary potentate 
 reigned and entertained 
 like a medieval king and 
 wrote and labored like a 
 modern captain of 
 
 WHERE THE AUTHOR OF WAVERLY WROTE
 
 128 
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 APPROACHING EDINBURGH 
 
 industry literary in- 
 dustry. His popularity 
 was unrivaled by that 
 of any living poet or 
 prose writer. His pro- 
 ductivity was equal to 
 that of five or six of 
 his most prolific con- 
 temporaries. Yet he 
 found time to devote 
 three hours every day, 
 for twenty -five years, 
 to routine legal and 
 clerical work as Clerk 
 of the Session and as 
 Sheriff, which offices 
 brought him a 
 considerable 
 income. 
 
 UKYBURGH ABBEY
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 129 
 
 His literary earnings were for 
 those days enormous. 
 While turning out the 
 Waverly Novels, two 
 or three a year, 
 anonymously, as 
 'The Great Un- 
 kno wn," 
 heat 
 the 
 
 same time publish- 
 ed so much fine 
 prose and poetry 
 over his own name 
 that no one could 
 suspect him of be- 
 ing the author of 
 "Waverly" and 
 the n um erou s 
 stories that fol- 
 
 OOTHIC DETAIL
 
 I30 SCOTLAND 
 
 lowed that popular tale and became famous as the Waverly Novels. 
 For one man to produce so vast a literary output appeared a physical 
 impossibility. He even went so far as to review, as Walter Scott, 
 his own novels by The Great Unknown. He was very fair and just 
 in his criticism of those novels and used his reviews as a means of 
 
 MODERN EDINBURGH
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 THE ROYAL INSTITUTION 
 
 explaining the motives of the mysterious author and clearing up 
 misunderstandings an opportunity that any writer of to-day would 
 prize. The foreign books upon his shelves remind us that he had 
 mastered French and Italian before he was fourteen, and German a 
 few years later. He read five times as much as the average thought- 
 ful man reads in a lifetime, and yet found time to play the hospitable 
 
 PRINCES STREET
 
 132 
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 A DORIC COLONNADE 
 
 laird to hosts of guests in his baronial castle and to carry on two 
 quite distinct and separate literary campaigns. Like most men of 
 artistic temperament he was no business man. The failure of his 
 
 publishing partners ruined 
 him. At the age of fifty- 
 five he found himself bank- 
 rupt, confronted 
 with obli- 
 
 1N THE 
 
 ATHENS OF THE NORTH
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 133 
 
 ions of about seven hundred 
 thousand dollars. He resolved to 
 pay every penny, earning the en- 
 tire sum with his pen. In two 
 years he had made and 
 paid two hundred thousand 
 dollars. Then in failing 
 health, he wrote on and 
 on and finally when too 
 weak to write he dictated. 
 Ivanhoe was dictated in 
 agony by the dying 
 novelist. The great debt 
 ' was nearly paid when, 
 mercifully, his mind failed 
 
 and left him with the com- 
 w 
 forting delusion that he had 
 
 successfully completed his task. 
 his last year the government 
 placed a ship at his disposal and he was 
 taken for a cruise around the Mediterranean. 
 Thence in 1832 he hastened home to end, at Abbotsford, in his 
 beloved Scotland, a life than which few nobler, richer, and more 
 admirable lives 
 have left their im- 
 press on the his- 
 tory and letters of 
 a nation. 
 
 It is fitting that 
 the most con- 
 spicuous m o n u - 
 ment in Scot- 
 land's capi- 
 tal should 
 
 CALTON HILL 
 
 rHE UNFINISHED TEMPLE 
 OMMEMORATINO WATERLOO
 
 134 
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 be a beautiful memorial 
 to Walter Scott. It is 
 superbly placed; to 
 right and left stretch 
 long lovely gardens gay 
 with flowers while 
 from his seat beneath 
 the graceful Gothic 
 spire Sir Walter looks 
 down upon the ani- 
 mate d panorama of 
 Princes Street that 
 prince of streets and 
 proudest of all Edin- 
 burgh's thoroughfares. 
 It is one of the most 
 characterful avenues in 
 the world. As a bus- 
 iness street it is one-
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 135 
 
 sided. "It is but half a street!" exclaimed a jealous citizen of 
 Glasgow. Commerce, it is true, claims but one side of Princes 
 Street; beauty and grandeur claim the other the beauty of the 
 Princes Gardens and the grandeur of the classic Grecian struc- 
 ture of the Royal Institution with its superb Doric colonnades. 
 Beyond the delicate spire of the Scott Memorial rises the tower of 
 
 WAITING TO SEE THE KING AND QUEEN 
 
 the North British Railway Hotel, heavily modern in design and 
 in the distance, on the crest of Calton Hill, the colossal columns of 
 an uncompleted Parthenon are lifted against the sky. A reproduction 
 of the Parthenon was to have crowned this Scottish acropolis of the 
 "Athens of the North." This was to have been a national monu- 
 ment commemorating the victory of Waterloo but the subscrip- 
 tion list promptly met its Waterloo when it was submitted to the 
 consideration of the canny Scottish public. Calton Hill is rich in 
 ill-assorted monuments. One, like a lighthouse, is the Nelson Mon-
 
 136 
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 ument, honoring the hero of the great naval victory over Napoleon's 
 fleets in 1805 off Cape Trafalgar. Another resembles an Egyptian 
 obelisk; others recall successive architectural epochs. All this me- 
 lange of styles contributes, as a Scotch guide book says, "in no small 
 measure to that bold and defiant architectural discord which consti- 
 tutes the genius of Edinburgh." The sky line of the city offers to the 
 
 THE NATIONAL GALLERY AND THE OLD CITY ON THE CASTLE HILL 
 
 eye a delightful diversity of silhouette. We may turn from the severe 
 "classicalities" of Calton Hill to survey the charmingly quaint 
 " medievalities" of the long ridge that rises toward and seems to 
 culminate quite naturally in the grim and famous castle of the Scot- 
 tish kings, superbly set upon the rocky summit. 
 
 Edinburgh Castle looms high above the old town and the new. 
 It is one of the great sights of the world, one of those things that 
 stamp themselves forever in the memory of every traveler. It is
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 137 
 
 superb from every point of view. It seems to rise like some citadel 
 of medieval romance in lonely, frowning isolation even as we view 
 it from the busy confusion and modernity of Princes Street. 
 
 It was upon the easily defended summit of the Castle Rock that 
 some early chieftain of some barbarous, prehistoric clan must have 
 reared the first crude stockade under the protection of which his 
 
 EDINBURGH CASTLE AND THE WEST PRINCES STREET GARDENS 
 
 people built the mud and fagot hovels of the village to which cen- 
 turies later Edwin, King of the invading Northumbrians, gave the 
 name of "Edwin's Burgh" whence the "Edinburgh" of to-day. 
 
 Until the days of the Stuarts, Edinburgh was regarded as a rough 
 border stronghold but in the fifteenth century it had become the 
 recognized capital of Scotland and the center of Scottish culture. 
 
 By this time the stockade had become a granite castle sur- 
 rounding and protecting the palace of the Scottish kings. To-day
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 
 FROM THE CASTLE HILL 
 
 this grand old castle is the 
 dominating sight of 
 the great modern 
 city that spreads 
 away from the 
 i base o f t h e 
 historic rock. 
 The deep and 
 serene gar- 
 dens that lie 
 yT within the shad- 
 ow of the castled 
 cliff are man-made gar- 
 Their site was once 
 the Nor'Loch. The 
 
 dens. 
 
 the bed of a lake 
 
 waters of this lake of yesterday were drained away, and into the 
 
 depression were poured the verdant glories of the gardens of to-day. 
 
 The traveler's first "close-up" of the castle itself is enjoyed from 
 
 AT THE BASE OF THE CASTLE ROCK
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 139 
 
 the spacious esplanade or drill yard which spreads its surprising level- 
 ness on the high ridge before the eastern gate. Loquacious guides 
 Scotchmen can be loquacious when there is money in it lead 
 the traveler under the portcullis and up winding passage ways and 
 through the various solid old constructions that make up this historic 
 royal stronghold. They show us the old regalia of Scotland includ- 
 
 THE STRONGHOLD OF THE SCOTTISH KINGS 
 
 ing the sword of Robert Bruce and other precious "Honors of Scot- 
 land." They lead us into the "wee room" of Queen Mary where the 
 baby who became James the First of England first saw the dimness 
 of a murky day. We lean out of the tiny window from which the 
 royal babe was lowered in a basket to be conveyed in secrecy to the 
 surer security of Stirling Castle. This James the First of England 
 was also James the Sixth of Scotland or, as sometimes written by the
 
 140 
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 wicked wits of his day, "James I. 6." To grasp the humor of this 
 form - take down your Bible and turn to the 6th verse of the first 
 book of the General Epistle of St. James. There you will find re- 
 flected the character of this son of the dastard Darnley and the 
 
 EDINBURGH CASTLE AND THE ESPLANADE 
 
 fickle Mary Queen of Scots. "For he that wavereth is like a wave of 
 the sea driven with the wind and tossed. For let not that man think 
 that he shall receive anything of the Lord. A double-minded man is 
 unstable in all his ways." James was even "unstable on his pins" 
 as well as in his policies. 
 From the "wee room" 
 we are led to the impres- 
 sively restored Banquet- 
 ing Hall, and thence to 
 another tiny room asso- 
 ciated with another 
 Scottish queen, the 
 smallest chapel in
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 141 
 
 Great Britain and the old- 
 est ecclesiastical "pile" 
 in Scotland ; it bears the 
 revered name of 
 that good Saxon 
 princess, M a r - 
 garet, queen o f 
 Malcolm of t h e 
 Big Head. It is 
 only i6H feet 
 long by icH feet 
 wide. It is used 
 now principally for 
 the baptismal cere- 
 monies of the children 
 of soldiers garrisoned in the 
 glorious old Castle on this height. 
 In front of the Chapel is the 
 big gun called Mons Meg. It bears a Belgian name, and came, so 
 legend runs, four hundred years ago from that Belgian city near 
 which so many gallant Scots fell in the early days of the World 
 War. It is of strange construction, made of a bundle of wrought 
 iron bars, encircled by scores of external iron rings. It fired a 
 solid shot of granite twenty inches in diameter and weighing 330 
 pounds, but its range of fire is not stated. 
 
 The mile-long street that leads from the Castle down past St. 
 Giles' Cathedral with its crown of stone, to the Palace of Holyrood 
 at the far end of the Canongate, is sometimes called the Royal Mile, 
 for up and down its length the royal folk 
 of olden times were wont 
 to make their way in state 
 between their newer royal 
 dwelling of Holyrood and 
 their ancient royal for- 
 
 ST. MARGARET 8 CHAPEL 
 
 THE OLDEST BUILDING IN EDINBURGH 
 
 MONS MEG
 
 142 
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 tress. Thus they were sure to pass the doorway of the most signifi- 
 cant of Scotland's churches the Cathedral of St. Giles. It has 
 been Catholic and Protestant. Mass has been said at its forty old- 
 time altars. John Knox has preached from its reformed pulpit. 
 Protestants pray in its modern pews to-day. Memorials to the 
 
 ST. GILES' 
 
 great dead of Scotland adorn its aisles and chapels. It has become 
 the Westminster Abbey of the northern kingdom-or North Britain 
 
 as Scotland is sometimes called. The 
 exterior is impressive; the tower is 
 crowned by arches and pinnacles 
 that simulate a crown of stone. 
 The interior is 
 strangely 
 
 JJ beautiful. 
 
 Some one has 
 
 THE HEART OF 
 MIDLOTHIAN
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 THE GRAVE OF 
 JOHN KNOX 
 
 PARLIAMENT SQUARE 
 
 said that "Presbyterianism has quietly 
 acquiesced in the old Catholic conception of 
 ecclesiastical architecture" and that "the 
 present appearance of the interior would have 
 sadly shocked the good, earnest old Covenanters 
 who strove so hard and conscientiously to eliminate 
 the beautiful from religion." 
 
 Between the church and the old Parliament House, now the Supreme 
 Court of Scotland, there is a spot in the pavement marked with an in- 
 set of the letters I. K. and the figures 1572. The date gives us a clue. 
 The I is an old-time J. It stands for John, the K for Knox. Here 
 then lies John Knox who, as Stevenson says, "made Scotland over 
 again in his own image the indefatigable, undissuadable John 
 Knox. He sleeps within call of St. Giles', the church that so often 
 echoed to his preaching." The church-yard is now Parliament 
 Square; all signs of other tombs have been obliterated. The only
 
 144 
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 monument in sight is a bronze equestrian statue of King Charles the 
 Second, who turns his back upon the plate in the pavement that marks 
 the grave of the reformer. 
 
 The traveler who keeps his eye upon the pavement of old Edinboro' 
 will discover many reminders of the vanished past. A heart outlined 
 in paving stones marks the site of the old Tolbooth prison, immortal- 
 
 THE HOUSE OF JOHN KNOX 
 
 ized by Walter Scott in the "Heart of Midlothian." That ancient 
 goal, where Erne Deans was held in durance vile, was finally demolished 
 in 1817. Farther on, a circle in the pave- 
 ment marks the spot where 
 in the cruel old days of 
 superstition, witches were 
 burned in public in 
 the Canongate within 
 
 WHERE WITCHES 
 WERE BURNED
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 THE BOOK SHOP IN JOHN KNOX 8 HOUSE 
 
 sight of the windows of 
 the house which was the 
 home of Scotland's great 
 and strenuous reformer. 
 John Knox's house is 
 now one of the double- 
 starred sights of Edin- 
 burgh to which tourists 
 are proudly and thrift- 
 ily conducted by the 
 canny cabbies of the 
 capital. One day as a 
 particularly Presbyterian 
 jehu reined up at the 
 door and solemnly an- 
 nounced to his fare a 
 hurried Jewish tourist 
 
 ANOTHER CLOSE
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 from New York "This, Sir, is the 
 house of John Knox"--he noted 
 that the fare did appear impressed. 
 In dignified, deliberate tones he 
 reiterated the inspiring infor- 
 
 mation. The alien Hebrew 
 glanced at the house and 
 queried carelessly , "Who 
 was John Knox?" The 
 cabby gripped the box seat, 
 turned red and pale by turns 
 and thundered to his 
 shrinking passenger, "Mon 
 - do ye never read your 
 Bible?" 
 
 Opening off the Royal 
 Mile are countless "closes," 
 or steep alley-ways, ^that 
 afford striking glimpses of 
 
 STEEP, NARROW STREETS, CALLK1 
 "CLOSES" OR "WYNDS"
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 147 
 
 the lower city. The ancient buildings, pierced by these slits and 
 separated by these flights of public stairs, were once the abode of 
 Edinburgh's nobility and fashion, but the fine folk of to-day live in 
 the new city far below, and leave these former haunts of elegance 
 to the plain people the very plain and very poor people of to-day. 
 
 CANONCATF. 
 
 Many of the houses in Canongate date from the middle of the six- 
 teenth century. Canongate was once a separate borough, and it 
 had a motto, "Sic Itur ad Astra," perhaps the bitter tribute of some 
 weary climber to the eight- and ten-story buildings which prevail in 
 this ancient neighborhood. And, as if to prove their age, the many 
 little "closes" vent their ancient odors on the public way. Here had
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 THE WHITE HORSE INN 
 
 dwelt, doubtless, the Scottish wanderer who when overcome by home- 
 sickness was wont to exclaim, "Sweet Edinboro', I can smell thee noo." 
 In the White Horse Close is the famous White Horse Inn, once 
 the best hotel in town, and frequented, as Scott tells us, by the noble-
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 149 
 
 THE WHITE HORSE CLOSE 
 
 men and gentlemen who followed Bonnie Prince Charlie when he came 
 in 1745 to claim the throne of Scotland and dwelt for a brief space as 
 Scotland's King in Holyrood, the adjacent palace of his ancestors. 
 
 OLD HOLYROOD PALACE IN 
 THE MODERN SLUMS
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 THE PALACE AND THE CHAPEL 
 
 This grim fortress-like abode of royalty lies now next door to the slums 
 of Edinburgh. Modern royalty, when in residence there, has for its 
 neighbors the poorest of the poor. The history of Holy rood Palace 
 reads like a melodrama of royal recklessness and crime, in which the 
 leading players are Mary Queen of Scots and her murderous band of 
 husbands and lovers, whose deeds, despite the glamour of romance, 
 seem strangely kin to the doings of the lower criminal classes of to-day. 
 
 Much has been written in 
 defense and much has 
 been written in 
 abuse of the fair 
 young widow of 
 Francis II of 
 France who at 
 at the age of 
 nineteen re- 
 turned from 
 
 QUEEN MARV's 
 BATH
 
 SCOTLAND 15! 
 
 the gayeties of Paris to the grimnesses of her Scottish capital, which 
 must have been indeed a grim place in those early days. 
 
 'Tishard to picture one who had been queen in France dwelling 
 contentedly in the four forbidding rooms of Holyrood which are 
 shown to us to-day as the apartments of the much-loved Mary. We 
 can more easily visualize her in the audience chamber, disputing with 
 John Knox, who has left a tribute to her "proud mind, crafty wit, and 
 
 HOLYROOD PALACE 
 
 indurate heart against God and truth." In the bed-room may still 
 be seen the actual bed on which she slept. It was in this apartment 
 that the Queen was dining with her favorite, David Rizzio, when the 
 assassins, tools of Darnley, her second husband, dragged the terror- 
 stricken Italian secretary from her side and stabbed him to death. 
 Formerly a dark stain on the floor was pointed out to visitors as 
 Rizzio's life blood, but now the morbidly curious must be satisfied
 
 IS2 SCOTLAND 
 
 with a brass plate marking the spot. Henry Darnley, who was her 
 distant kinsman, is perhaps the least attractive figure among all the 
 players in Queen Mary's tragedy of love. Insolent and selfish in his 
 triumphs, weak and cowardly in adversity, he was, as Swinburne says, 
 "a hapless and worthless bridegroom." Even before Bothwell's 
 henchman strangled him he sank into comparative obscurity, for the 
 Queen had already turned from him. The exchange of Darnley for 
 
 A "PLAYGROUND" FOR THE POOR 
 
 Bothwell may have seemed advantageous for a time, for Bothwell was 
 strong and able, but he was also coarse and imperious. The marriage 
 of Bothwell and Mary was the beginning of the end, for only a few 
 weeks later their army was defeated, Mary surrendered herself to the 
 Scottish nobles who had revolted, and Bothwell fled from Scotland. 
 Then followed an almost continuous captivity of nearly twenty years 
 - and at last the tragic release of her spirit, by order of Elizabeth 
 in 1587, on the block at Fotheringay.
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 153 
 
 Adjacent to the palace are some of the slummiest slums to be 
 found anywhere in Scotland slums the like of which should not be 
 found anywhere in this rich, wonderful world of ours. The horrid 
 tenements of the Cowgate are jammed deep into the sordid depths of 
 poverty's abyss. In pictures these hopeless homes look fairly livable 
 and decent; but photography glosses over much and fails to register 
 the awful atmosphere of this congested quarter. Then, too, the out- 
 
 ward neatness of the streets and "closes," the sanitary whitewash, 
 and the well-swept pavements give a too favorable visual impression 
 of what is in reality abjectly miserable in aspect. We noted with 
 pitying eye the one spacious "playground" of the neighborhood; the 
 children who can play amid such forbidding surroundings must be 
 possessed of preternatural blitheness or must be ignorant of all the
 
 154 
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 brighter things of life. This modern civilization of ours is an exas- 
 perating puzzle. It gives us this horrid "playground" in the slums 
 and it gives us at the same time all the surpassing structural splendors 
 of this impressive "Modern Athens." Of these we note with admira- 
 tion the Usher Hall, a magnificent concert auditorium, the gift of a 
 millionaire distiller and the M'Ewan Hall, an equally magnificent 
 lecture auditorium, the gift of a millionaire brewer. Thus Edinburgh 
 may be said to owe its temples of music and oratory indirectly to the 
 unquenchable thirst of the Scots (and their friends and neighbors), 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY OF EDINBURGH
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 and more directly to the munificence of those philanthropists who 
 have found the mission of assuaging that thirst so richly profitable. 
 Another Edinburgh institution which owes much to generous 
 benefactors is the University. It was founded in 1583 under a royal 
 charter granted by King James VI, and is the youngest of the four 
 great Scottish universities. The grounds include the site of the old 
 church of St. Mary-in-the-Field, the scene of the murder of Henry 
 Darnley. The present main building, enclosing a spacious quad- 
 rangle, is in the classical style, erected from designs by Robert Adam, 
 the great Scottish architect and furniture designer. The corner stone 
 was laid in 1789, but the dome, crowned by the bronze figure of Youth 
 bearing the torch of Knowledge, was not completed until 1883, the 
 tercentenary of the university's foundation. Like the other Scottish 
 universities, this institution benefits from the $10,000,000 trust fund 
 established in 1901 by Andrew Carnegie.
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 The thoughtful trav- 
 eler will note with in- 
 terest in the crowded 
 old Calton Burying 
 Ground, A the 
 
 CALTON HII.L FROM THE 
 NORTH BRIDGE 
 
 austere mausoleum of David 
 Hume, the philosopher, historian, 
 and economist who enunciated 
 some of the underlying principles 
 of modern economics. David 
 Hume was one of the first to 
 point out the true relation be- 
 tween money and wealth. 
 "Money," saidHume,"is none of 
 the wheels of trade; it is 
 the oil which renders 
 the motion of t h e 
 wheels more smooth 
 and easy."
 
 SCOTLAND 157 
 
 The gist of Hume's economic philosophy, that "everything in the 
 world is purchased by labor, and our passions are the only causes of 
 labor," might have been approved by that great American whose 
 statue in bronze stands in incongruous juxtaposition to the mauso- 
 leum of the philosopher. A noble bronze figure of Abraham Lincoln 
 stands here as a memorial to the many brave men of Scottish descent 
 who, in the days of civil strife between the North and South, fought 
 and died for the preservation of the Union under the flag of which 
 they had lived and prospered in the new world. On the pedestal is a 
 quotation from one of Lincoln's speeches, "to preserve the jewel of 
 liberty in the framework of freedom." This turns our thoughts to 
 another Edinburgh cemetery, which is a landmark in the age-long 
 
 A HISTORIAN AND A MAKER OF HISTORY
 
 158 
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 struggle to preserve the framework of freedom. For it was m Grey- 
 friars Churchyard, on February 28, 1638, that the Covenanters 
 adopted and signed that solemn bond by which they defied King 
 Charles I and Archbishop Laud, and bound themselves, let come 
 what might, to maintain the Presbyterian doctrine as the sole re- 
 
 GREYFRIARS 
 
 ligion of Scotland. 
 Persecutions, t o r - 
 tures, imprisonment, 
 even death, had no 
 terrors for them. 
 There, too, in Grey- 
 friars Churchyard, 
 as if inspired by their 
 example of forti- 
 
 -W^: 
 
 THE PRISON OY THE COVENANTERS
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 tude, lived and died 
 that faithful dog, whose 
 story has been told in 
 the most touching of 
 a 1 1 dog - biographies, 
 "Greyfriars Bobby." 
 The stone beside 
 which that tireless 
 little guardian slept, 
 night after night for 
 fourteen years, guard- 
 ing his master's grave, 
 is to us an even more 
 eloquent memorial 
 than the fountain near 
 the gate, bearing 
 his effigy in 
 bronze. 
 
 Ofttime? 
 we hear a 
 Scot refer affec- 
 tionately to Edin- 
 burgh as"Auld Reekie." 
 
 GREYFRIARS BOBBY 
 
 Americans might well call Pittsburgh 
 "New Reekie," for "reek" is a very 
 pure Scotch term for atmos- 
 phere that is not pure, 
 but is smoky, and liter- 
 ally reeks with reek. 
 Seeking purer 
 air the traveler 
 may make his 
 way to the sub- 
 
 WHERE THE FAITHFUL 
 DOG KEPT VIGIL
 
 :6o 
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 urban fishing village of New Haven, on the shores of the Firth of 
 Forth. There dwells a fisher population said to be descended from 
 a colony o f Scandinavians who 
 settled on the Firth long centu- 
 ries ago. The fish-wives of 
 New Haven still swing 
 their thick, full Scan- 
 dinavian skirts, and 
 their tow-headed 
 children smile at us 
 with the blue eyes 
 of the old-time Vikings 
 of the North. 
 
 On beyond New Haven, 
 farther up the Firth, there looms the 
 great Forth Bridge, the first of great 
 
 cantilever bridges. It is a wonderwork of man, so vast, so intricate, 
 so overpowering, that it almost takes rank in impressiveness with 
 
 NEW HAVEN ON THE FIRTH OF FORTH
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 161 
 
 the great works of Nature, 
 bridge is more than a mile and 
 half long, and the spans, of 
 1,710 feet, are the widest 
 in the world, with the ex- 
 ception of those on the 
 
 The 
 
 great bridge across 
 the St. Lawrence 
 near Quebec. The 
 rails of the Forth 
 Bridge lie 160 feet 
 above the water; 
 the tops of the 
 spans, 360 feet. 
 Thirty -eight thou- 
 sand tons of steel 
 were used in the 
 construction of the 
 bridge. It was
 
 162 
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 completed in 1889, after seven years of work and an expenditure of 
 more than fifteen million dollars. 
 
 Among the many castles 
 that rise like milestones of 
 history along the tour- 
 ist highways of the 
 Scotland of to-day 
 looms the square, 
 sombre ruin of 
 the palace of 
 Li n I i t hgow, 
 another fortified 
 home of Scottish 
 royalty, the older 
 portions of the 
 structure dating 
 from the fifteenth
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 163 
 
 century. There in St. 
 Michael's Church, just out- 
 side the palace walls, King 
 James IV was warned by 
 an apparition (at least so 
 tradition says) of the dis- 
 aster which was about to 
 overtake him at Flodden 
 Field. A little chamber at 
 the top of the tower on the 
 northwest corner is known 
 as Queen Margaret's Bow- 
 er, because here waited 
 and watched in vain the 
 good queen, while the Scot- 
 tish army was annihilated 
 and her husband killed by 
 the forces which her 
 brother, King Henry VIII 
 of England, had sent to oppose them. But Linlithgow is best 
 
 SPANNING THE FIRTH OF FORTH
 
 I6 4 
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 L1NLITHGOW PALACE 
 
 cally shared with Edinburgh the 
 rank and privileges of a capital 
 city, and Stirling Castle 
 from the days of Alexander 
 I, at the beginning of the 
 twelfth century, to t h e 
 union of England and 
 Scotland in 1603, was 
 closely connected with 
 the fortunes of the rulers of 
 Scotland. No visitor can 
 
 known to us be- 
 cause in another 
 chamber of the 
 palace was born 
 Margaret's grand- 
 daughter, destined 
 to fill so large and 
 so conspicuous a 
 place in history as 
 Mary, Queen of 
 Scots. 
 
 But far more 
 interesting, and far 
 more significant in 
 Scottish history, is 
 another castle a 
 few miles farther 
 from Edinburgh. 
 The town of Stir- 
 ling for several 
 centuries practi-
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 165 
 
 come to Stirling without repeating to himself the immortal lines 
 of Robert Burns: 
 
 Scots, wha ha'e wi' Wallace bled, 
 
 Scots, wham Bruce has often led, 
 
 Welcome to your gory bed, 
 Oj to victory. 
 
 Now the day and now's the hour; 
 
 See the front o' Battle lour. 
 
 ANOTHER HOME OF SCOTTISH ROYALTY 
 
 For from the heights of Stirling Castle a statue of the Bruce looks 
 down upon seven famous Scottish battlefields. It was at Stirling 
 Bridge in 1 297 that the Scotch under Sir William Wallace defeated 
 the English invaders. The night before the battle Wallace camped 
 near the hill called Abbey Craig, on which now stands the national 
 memorial to him. On the morning of September n, 1297, the 
 English began to cross Stirling Bridge. Wallace held his army in
 
 1 66 
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 leash until about half the English forces had crossed; then he loosed 
 the attack. The English were thrown into utter disorder, and those 
 who remained on the south side of the Forth fled in panic after first 
 setting fire to the bridge. Wallace pursued the fleeing English, and 
 raided the north of England as far as Newcastle. 
 
 Returning to Scotland he was elected guardian of the Kingdom 
 
 STIRLINO CASTLE 
 
 and in statesman-like fashion set himself to the task of securing order 
 in the affairs of his count ry . But peace was not to be. Within a year 
 the English king, with an overwhelming force, advanced northward, 
 and after much maneuvering compelled Wallace to give battle at 
 Falkirk, another of those seven battlefields which lie within sight of 
 Stirling Castle. Defeated, Wallace fled, burning Stirling Castle and 
 the town behind him. For several years his history is then obscure
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 167 
 
 THE BRUCE 
 
 but in 1305 he was captured and carried in chains to London. He 
 reached London on August 22, was tried at Westminster the next day, 
 and before nightfall had been found guilty and executed with savage 
 cruelty. Scotchmen will never forget how that bold son of the 
 heather-cov- _^^^** B ""^^fc^ ered country
 
 1 68 
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 A GATE OF STIRLING CASTLE 
 
 answered his accusers who sought to brand him as a traitor. Wal- 
 lace replied that he could not be a traitor to the King of England, 
 for he had never sworn fealty to him, and had never been 
 his subject. 
 
 Wallace did not free Scotland, but his memory became an inspira- 
 tion to the Scottish people. A decade after his death they achieved 
 their independence under the leadership of Robert the Bruce, whose 
 
 WITHIN THE WALLS
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 169 
 
 heart, as we remember, lies buried at Melrose Abbey. On the field 
 of Bannockburn, June 24, 1314, the Scots under Bruce defeated a 
 great force of the English led by King Edward II, and thereby won 
 Scottish independence, although it was not until 1327 that Edward III 
 
 FROM STIRLING S CITADEL
 
 170 
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 by the Treaty of York, 
 formally agreed that 
 "Scotland, according to 
 its ancient bounds in 
 the days of Alexander 
 III, should remain to 
 Robert, King of Scots, 
 and his heirs, free and 
 divided from England, 
 without any subjec- 
 tion, servitude, claim, 
 or demand whatso- 
 ever." 
 
 Thus was Scotland's 
 long fight for freedom 
 won, and thus the 
 dream of Wallace be- 
 came a political real- 
 
 ity. BUmS COttfidcd tO 
 
 his readers that "the story of Wallace poured a Scottish prejudice 
 into my veins which will boil along them till the floodgates of life 
 shut in eternal rest," and resolved "to make a song on him" 
 Burns gave us those rousing lines addressed to "Scots wha ha'e 
 wi' Wallace bled." Those lines form a monument to Wallace even 
 more enduring than the noble tower of stone that rises on the hill 
 of Abbey Craig. From the high battlements of that National 
 Monument to Wallace the traveler may look out upon a splendid 
 and historic panorama which includes Stirling Castle, Stirling 
 Bridge and the scenes of several of those momentous battles which, 
 although insignificant in point of numbers engaged, were su- 
 premely significant in shaping the history of Scotland. 
 
 While lingering amid these scenes, so rich in reminiscent interest, 
 we chance upon a volume in which we find set down a choice collection 
 of classic examples of Scotch humor so delightfully amusing that I 
 
 WILLIAM WALLACE, FROM AN AUTHENTIC PORTRAIT
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 171 
 
 cannot refrain from "cribbing" just a few of them for the delectation 
 of those who may not have read or heard them. Immortal is the 
 thrifty Scotsman's honest and sincere condemnation of our glorious 
 Niagara as "naething but a perfect waste o' water!" Calvinistic 
 is the pious declaration made in reproving a too optimistic preacher 
 
 THE NATIONAL MONUMENT TO WALLACE
 
 172 
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 GEORGE SQUARE, GLASGOW 
 
 "a kirk without a hell's no worth a dockin." Deep is the Scot's dis- 
 like of "paper ministers" who read their sermons, as witnesseth the 
 following protest: "I have three objections to this sermon: first 
 it was read; second it wasna weel read; third it was no worth read- 
 ing." Equally deep is the Scot's reverence for the abstruse: "But 
 did you understand the ser- 
 mon?" "Understand it! 
 I would not pre- 
 sume to under- 
 stand it!" 
 
 Preachers must 
 be prepared for 
 blunt speeches ' 
 from the pews. 
 To one who 
 had advised a 
 drowsy hear- 
 er to take a 
 pinch of snuff, 
 
 THE WATER 
 WAGON
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 it 
 
 A CORPORATION TRAM 
 
 was flung back the suggestion "Wad 
 no be better to put the snuff 
 into the sermon?" 
 
 Another dominie arriving 
 at the church drenched to 
 the skin and worried about 
 catching cold was reassured 
 by a parishioner "Jest get 
 up and begin and you'll 
 soon be dry enough." 
 
 But despite these 
 classic jests the Scot 
 takes his religion very 
 . seriously. The municipal 
 motto of one of Scotland's 
 greater cities is, "Let Glasgow flour- 
 ish by the preaching of the Word." Glas- 
 
 A SUBWAY STATION
 
 174 
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 gow has flourished and is to-day one of the world's most interesting 
 and at the same time most unattractive cities. 
 
 It is curious that the two great cities of Scotland should be so 
 unlike. Edinburgh, with its castellated towers, is one of the world's 
 beautiful cities; Glasgow, with its chimneys at every street-end, one 
 
 GLASGOW UNIVERSITY
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 KEI.VINCROVE 
 
 of the least beautiful. Human nature is often perverse. A man will 
 stop and stare ten minutes at a pretty woman, while ten worthier 
 ladies pass unnoticed; so the traveler who lingers for two weeks 
 contentedly in Edinburgh 
 will try to "do" Glasgow 
 between two trains. In as- 
 pect Glasgow is a modern 
 city, although its history goes 
 back at least to the twelfth 
 century. 
 
 The success of the Glasgow 
 corporation in operating the 
 municipal street car system 
 has furnished the text for 
 many a reformer's sermon on 
 municipal ownership of pub- 
 lic utilities. Glasgow has 
 also accomplished wonders 
 in the rehousing of her poor. 
 
 WHERE LEARNING DWELLS
 
 i 7 6 
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 But if Glasgow fails to lure the traveler, Glasgow's river, the Clyde, 
 is worthy of the traveler's grateful recognition as the cradle of so 
 many of the splendid ships that have made modern ocean travel so 
 pleasant and so speedy. The Clyde is literally a man-made river. 
 The transformation of an inland city, on a shallow creek, into one 
 of the world's greatest seaports 
 
 and ship- ^^^^^ ^^^^fc- building 
 
 GLASGOW BRIDGE 
 
 centers is one of the miracles of modern times. A hundred years 
 ago the river was not three feet deep at Glasgow. Now sea-going 
 ships, drawing twenty-six feet of water, go up and down the Clyde 
 on a single tide. There are about nine miles of wharves, and more 
 than a hundred acres of docks and slips communicating with the 
 nver. The first steamboat that ever made regular river trips in
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 177 
 
 ALONG THE CLYDE 
 
 Europe was Henry Bell's "Comet," 
 which trailed up and down 
 the Clyde from 1812 to 
 1820. The " Comet " 
 was a three-horse-power 
 boat. 
 
 From the prac- 
 tical and prosaic 
 Clyde 'tis but a 
 short journey to the 
 banks of a river that 
 turns our thoughts to 
 poetry the River Ayr. 
 It cuts in twain the town 
 of Ayr and is spanned by 
 the "Twa Brigs," made famous
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 176 
 
 But if Glasgow fails to lure the traveler, Glasgow's river, the Clyde, 
 is worthy of the traveler's grateful recognition as the cradle of so 
 many of the splendid ships that have made modern ocean travel so 
 pleasant and so speedy. The Clyde is literally a man-made river. 
 The transformation of an inland city, on a shallow creek, into one 
 of the world's greatest seaports 
 
 ^^^^^^ ^^^^^^ building 
 
 and shu>- 
 
 GIASGOW BRIDGE 
 
 centers is one of the miracles of modern times. A hundred years 
 ago the river was not three feet deep at Glasgow. Now sea-going 
 ships, drawing twenty-six feet of water, go up and down the Clyde 
 on a single tide. There are about nine miles of wharves, and more 
 than a hundred acres of docks and slips communicating with the 
 river. The first steamboat that ever made regular river trips in
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 177 
 
 ALONG THE CLYDE 
 
 Europe was Henry Bell's "Comet," 
 which trailed up and down 
 the Clyde from 1812 to 
 1820. The " Comet " 
 was a three-horse-power 
 boat. 
 
 From the prac- 
 tical and prosaic 
 Clyde 'tis but a 
 short journey to the 
 banks of a river that 
 turns our thoughts to 
 poetry the River Ayr. 
 It cuts in twain the town 
 of Ayr and is spanned by 
 the "Twa Brigs," made famous
 
 i 7 8 
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 by the songs of Robert Burns. Hard by is the old tavern that like- 
 wise owes its fame to Scotland's best beloved poet. It is of course the 
 
 Tarn O'Shanter Inn, where Bobbie 
 Burns, who was "no enemy 
 to social life" oft found 
 the kind of company 
 he loved. Judg- 
 ing from the 
 merry sounds 
 that issue from 
 the open windows 
 as we pause before 
 them, there is even to- 
 day much of that same 
 cheery sort of company to be en- 
 joyed by any modern poet who 
 may care to join in a carouse. A statue of the most famous fre- 
 quenter of the tavern now graces the public square. 
 
 ONE OF THE TWA BRIGS AT AYR 
 
 THE AULl) BK1U
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 179 
 
 Pilgrims come to this heart of the Burns country even more 
 numerously than to Stratford-on-Avon. We are told that as many 
 as twelve thousand have come to pay their homage to the poet's 
 memory within the six days that make up a Scotland week for 
 
 no good Scot will ever travel on 
 the very holy Sabbath. 
 
 Two miles beyond the 
 town is the poor cottage 
 where the plough-boy 
 poet first saw light 
 and where he lived 
 during his toilsome 
 early years. He was 
 born there in 1759 
 son of an admirable 
 father who in spite of 
 
 THE TOWN OF BURNS
 
 182 
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 BURNS* HOME IN DUMFRIES WHERE HE DIED 
 
 "Gie me a spark of Nature's fire ! 
 That's a' the learning I desire. 
 Then, tho' I drudge thro' dub an' mire 
 At plow or cart, 
 
 My muse tho' hamely in attire 
 May touch the heart!" 
 
 And yet this man whose homely, glorious muse did touch the heart 
 of his own generation, was permitted to live and die in poverty. 
 Think of the rewards 
 that come so promptly 
 to the successful song- 
 makers of to-day 
 makers of ephemeral 
 nonsense. Then think 
 what Scotland paid the 
 maker of her immortal 
 songs. His first book 
 of poems published in 
 1786 brought him only 
 twenty pounds less 
 
 "'-- 
 
 ON BIS DOORSTEP
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 183 
 
 WITHIN HIS HOME 
 
 than a hundred dollars. All of his songs combined brought him not 
 
 even enough to pay for common comforts but they have made him 
 
 rich in the love of thousands a millionaire monopolist of Scottish 
 
 hearts and all true hearts throughout the world. His last years were 
 
 as full of gloom and drudgery as his 
 
 early years had been with the 
 
 added bitterness of the thought 
 
 that his genius, while freely 
 
 recognized, had been so 
 
 penuriously requited. 
 
 He died in debt and in 
 
 despair, threatened with 
 
 eviction from the house 
 
 in Dumfries which had 
 
 been his home for the 
 
 five years of final struggle 
 
 against that nemesis of pov-
 
 1 84 
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 erty which pursued him from the cradle to the grave. 
 
 The penniless plough-boy sleeps now in a stately marble mauso- 
 leum the interior adorned with a relief showing the Muse discov- 
 ering the poet at the plow. That he was of the soil was to his vast 
 advantage. It was because Burns did touch 
 earth so frequently, so lovingly, so 
 humanly that men respond so warmly 
 to the music of his verse. Though 
 he lived and died among the 
 common people, he had mingled 
 with the great and favored and 
 famous men and women and 
 with the "nice people" of 
 his time studying them, 
 understanding them as they 
 never succeeded in understand- 
 ing him. But if to be loved 
 is to be understood then 
 Robert Burns is perhaps the best 
 understood of all the poets who 
 have ever lived. 
 
 Paramount indeed is the power of 
 poetry. Think what poetry has done for 
 certain parts of Scotland notably the district 
 of the Scottish Lakes. Thousands of strangers make annual pilgrim- 
 ages thither chiefly because Sir Walter Scott there laid the scene of his 
 familiar poems, "Rob Roy" and "The Lady of the Lake." As an 
 advertising agent for his native land Scott deserves the gratitude of 
 all the transportation companies of Scotland. Every verse he wrote 
 about this lovely region brings hither hundreds of tourists every year. 
 What reader of Scott's poems does not long to visit Loch Katrine, 
 upon which steamers packed with tourists ply on week days only, for 
 in Scotland it is considered wrong to go "excursionizing" on a Sun- 
 daythe Sabbath being better kept here than in any other country? 
 
 ROBERT BURNS
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 185 
 
 THE MAUSOLEUM 
 
 What sympathizer with the Lady of the Lake 
 
 has not dreamed of some day seeing Ellen's Isle, 
 
 or strolling on the Silver Strand which has 
 
 been recently submerged in part through 
 
 the raising of the level of the lake by 
 
 the operations of the Glasgow 
 
 water supply company? What 
 
 admirer of the red-haired hero, 
 
 Rob, who was called "Roy" 
 
 because his hair was as red as 
 
 his arm was long and strong, 
 
 has not hoped some day to 
 
 visit the scenes of his romantic 
 
 exploits? What reader, thrilled 
 
 by the story of that lawless 
 
 Scottish cowboy, has not looked 
 
 forward to the day when he should 
 
 meet upon their native heath the long-horned, highland cattle 
 
 descended from the 
 herds stolen from proud 
 nobles by the prouder 
 bandits of Rob Roy's 
 robber clan? What lover 
 of Nature, in her calm 
 and lovely aspects, has 
 not dreamed of tramping 
 through that much praised 
 stretch of country called 
 the Trossachs? 
 
 The name "Trossachs," 
 a Gaelic word, means 
 "bristled country," but to 
 us it seemed that the 
 Trossachs bristled only 
 
 BBHBBBBBBHfli 
 THE TOMB OF BURNS
 
 1 86 
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 IN THE TROSSACHS 
 
 with beauty. It is a name which seems to suggest an extensive 
 area, but the Trossachs is really only a romantic, beautifully wooded 
 glen, a scant two and a half miles long. 
 
 Then, too, we are surprised to find that the Highland Lakes really 
 lie very low. Loch Lomond, the largest of them all, lies only twenty- 
 
 LOCH KATRINE
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 187 
 
 three feet above sea-level and was undoubtedly at one time an arm of 
 the ocean. The little mountains round about this fresh-water fjord 
 rise so boldly that we forget they are only hills at best. Ben Nevis, 
 the highest peak in Scotland, in fact in all Great Britain, is only forty- 
 four hundred and six feet in height. The peaks near Loch Lomond 
 barely attain three thousand feet. But scenic grandeur is largely a 
 
 NEAR ELLEN -S ISLE 
 
 matter of effective points of view and scenic beauty, one of composi- 
 tion. Scotland's scenery is beautifully composed, while with a thrift 
 and economy characteristic of the land and people, Scottish Nature 
 has made the most of her materials. Poetry has added the glamour 
 of Romance, and a willing world pays annual tourist tribute of golden 
 admiration to the Trossachs and the Lakes. 
 
 But to us a comparatively unknown lake bearing the not too pretty
 
 1 88 
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 name of Loch Lubnaig seemed, as we skirted itatsunset, far more lovely 
 than the world famous Loch Katrine. There was a charm also about 
 the vistas of Loch Awe that greeted us from one fine vantage point that 
 the more celebrated vistas of Loch Lomond did not have for us. Per- 
 haps the charm lies in the fact that as we viewed these less familiar, 
 
 LOCH LUBNAIG 
 
 less praised scenes, we were alone; no crowds of tourists thronged the 
 shore; there were no "sights" to see, no points or peaks or places 
 tagged and labeled to excite or satisfy the curiosity of strangers. 
 There Nature reigned; the poets had not focused public gaze on any 
 one detail. There we were free to drop the guide book and to lay the 
 book of poetry aside. We had need of no libretto to enjoy that 
 "opera" - that work of Nature. We had found at last the Scotland 
 of the poet's inspiration. We had slipped out from between the
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 189 
 
 covers of conventionality. We were free to use our own judgment, 
 to sing our own songs, to write our own poetry. 
 
 We found it pleasant, too, as we rolled on from scene to scene to 
 rest our eyes upon some nameless heather-covered hill where "the 
 bonnie purple heather" glowed in all its colorful glory. Nor were the 
 
 THE PEACEFUL GLORY OF SCOTLAND 
 
 grimmer, ruder aspects of the landscape unpleasing in our eyes. We 
 found a savage beauty, a wild grandeur, in the bare winding vales 
 through which our white road led us. For an hour we would enjoy a 
 sense of lone remoteness then suddenly our car would bring us to 
 the doorway of a charming inn with ivy-mantled walls, or doors and 
 windows bright with flowers. There we would lodge in cleanliness 
 and comfort, enjoying simple, wholesome fare, and on the morrow roll 
 away with one more Scottish stopping-place pictured pleasantly in
 
 I00 SCOTLAND 
 
 memory. Or again our road would follow one of the man-made water- 
 ways, bordered by cozy cottages from the chimneys of which the 
 smoke of peace and piety and contentment seemed ever to be rising. 
 We followed thus the various stretches of the Crinan Canal, one 
 of the minor watery short-cuts by means of which Scotch craft 
 
 THE BONNIE PURPLE HEATHER 
 
 avoid the long rough voyage around the ofttime storm stressed 
 
 peninsulas that jut 
 far out into the 
 troubled waters 
 of this northern 
 latitude. 
 
 One day our 
 wa nderings 
 brought us to the 
 
 HIGHLAND CATTLE
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 191 
 
 town of Perth, which the guide book calls "a fair city for its size," 
 whatever that may mean, and says that it is a "convenient halting 
 place." Perth lies on the right bank of the river Tay, between two 
 great meadows, called the North Inch and the South Inch. It was 
 
 THE STERNNESS OF SCOTTISH SCENERY 
 
 on the North Inch, in 1396, that there took place the combat be- 
 tween the Clan Chattan and the Clan Quhele, so vividly described 
 by Scott in "The Fair Maid of Perth." The house of Katherine 
 Glover, who has been immortalized as the Fair Maid, still stands 
 in Curfew Row. The inscription "Grace and Peace" over the door- 
 way seems strangely inviting, but strangely in contrast to the storm 
 and stress of Scott's tale. Full of action and strife, the story makes 
 a fine setting for the character of the doughty armorer, Harry Gow, 
 who finally won the maiden, and let us hope, lived happy ever after 
 in the sunny stone dwelling that is still known as the Fair Maid's
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 AT CRIANLARICl 
 
 House and as the sign at the door in 
 forms us, is "open to visitors." 
 
 Perth is an ancient place though 
 there is little left to tell of its 
 antiquity. During the days of 
 the Roman occupation of Brit- 
 ain the city was called Victoria, 
 but later it became known as 
 Aber-tha, meaning " at the 
 mouth of the Tay." From 
 this was derived the later 
 name of Bertha, which in our 
 day has become Perth. After 
 the conversion of the Picts and 
 Scots to Christianity, the city 
 was for a time called St. Johns- 
 toun, in honor of John the Baptist, 
 to whom the first church was dedi-
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 CANAL-SIDE HOMES 
 
 cated. Perth has been numbered among the several old-time capitals 
 of Scotland, but the murder of King James I in the Blackfriars 
 Monastery in 1437 resulted in removal of the court to Edinburgh. 
 No traveler should fail to climb to the high top of Kinnoull Hill, 
 
 AT THE MOUTH OF
 
 i SCOTLAND 
 
 thence to enjoy the lovely view of the winding Tay. The city itself 
 is lost to sight; no neighboring towns or villages obtrude upon the 
 scene- the valley looks unpeopled, yet there are the carefully hedged 
 fields ' the curving roads and other reminders of man's watchful care. 
 Not far from Perth we saw the highest hedge in Scotland if not 
 in all the world. It was a hedge composed of a long rank of towering 
 
 trees, their foliage so clipped and shaped at least on the side near- 
 est the long straight road, as to give the effect of a box-hedge not less 
 than sixty feet in height. 
 
 Some miles north of Perth, in the range of rocky hills called the 
 Grampian Mountains, are two places of interest to every traveler. 
 One of these was made famous by royalty, the other by a master of 
 literature. Balmoral the word in Gaelic means "majestic dwell- 
 ing" is the private residence of the British sovereign. A Scottish 
 guide book describes it as "a handsome, well-to-do-looking mansion."
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 It was bought by the Prince Consort in 1852, and was bequeathed by 
 him to Queen Victoria. Here the royal family spent ten happy sum- 
 mers with practically the privacy 
 of ordinary citizens, and even 
 after the Prince Consort's 
 death in 1861 it re- 
 mained the Queen's 
 favorite summer 
 home. 
 
 Balmoral i s 
 only a short dis- 
 tance from Brae- 
 mar, the most popu- 
 lar resort in the 
 Eastern Highlands and 
 famous as the gathering 
 place of the clans for the great 
 annual Highland Games. The scenery 
 here is not as grand as in other parts of the Highlands, but it is always 
 
 THE ROYAL GEORGE 
 
 BRIDGE AT PERTH
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 THE HOUSE OF THE FAIR 
 
 ID OF PERTH 
 
 interesting, and the bracing air makes the visitor eager and able to en- 
 joy every minute of his stay. The town itself is small, having only 
 about a thousand inhabitants, but there is at least one house in it 
 which no boy or grown man, for that matter, can pass without a 
 thrill. For in one of these cottages Stevenson spent the summer of 
 1881 in writing "Treasure Island." Long John Silver, and Pew and 
 Black Dog, his companions, are an immortal trio whose villainy is in 
 sharp contrast to the charming peacefulness of this region in which 
 their dark deeds were plotted by "R. L.. S." 
 
 We have it on the authority of a friend who sojourned in this high- 
 land home of Robert Louis Stevenson in 1881, that "Louis has been 
 writing all the time that I have been here, a novel of pirates and hid- 
 den treasure, in the highest degree exciting. He reads it to us every 
 night, chapter by chapter." Stevenson himself has told us that "On 
 a chill September morning by the cheek of a brisk fire, and the rain 
 drumming on the window, I began 'The Sea Cook,' for that was
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 197 
 
 A FAIR MAID OF TO-DAV 
 
 the original title." He tells us also that he plotted the tale first with 
 the inspiration of that famous chart on which the story turns; charts 
 being to him "of all books the least wearisome to read and the richest 
 in matter." The tale was begun, according to Stevenson's biog- 
 raphers, to please his school-boy stepson who had begged him to 
 
 write "something interesting." How 
 well that little stepson served the 
 little sons and stepsons and 
 W grandsons of succeeding gen- 
 erations! The tale that 
 pleased him has been found 
 to be "something interest- 
 ing" to every boy from six 
 years of age to sixty who has 
 ever been so happy as 
 --.,., to lose himself be- 
 
 tween the covers of 
 "Treasure Island." 
 
 A DOORWAY 
 OF ROMANCE
 
 8 SCOTLAND 
 
 Nineteen of its thrilling chapters were written in that little stone 
 house at Braemar sometimes at the rate of an entire chapter a day. 
 Yet the writer was an invalid. How strong the will, how quick the 
 wit of that frail boyish man, who, propped up in his bed, turned out 
 these chapters of adventure among the far-off islands of his mar- 
 velous imagination. Barrie said of him and this from a fellow-Scot 
 
 THE VALLEY OF THE TAY NRAR PERTH 
 
 and fellow-teller of tales, is praise indeed "Some men of letters, not 
 necessarily the greatest, have an indescribable charm to which we 
 give our hearts. Of living authors, none perhaps bewitches the reader 
 more than Mr. Stevenson, who plays upon words as if they were a 
 musical instrument." Tis said that in his "Sentimental Tommy" 
 Barrie pictured R. L. S. as he appeared to him. To those of us who 
 are idlers by nature and I am an idler by nature, though compelled 
 by circumstance to idle most industriously Stevenson has endeared 
 himself by writing "A Defense of Idlers." He has also given us away
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 199 
 
 of 
 
 of all 
 
 explaining the motive 
 dustry and robbing us 
 credit for the little good work 
 we may seem to have done 
 in these betraying words 
 "The ingenious hu- 
 man mind, face to 
 face with something 
 downright it ought to 
 do, does something 
 else." We recall also 
 his brave, pathetic la- 
 ment "Death admires me 
 
 our in- 
 
 even if publishers 
 do not"; and his 
 fine boast "I 
 know what pleas- 
 ure is, for I have 
 done good work." 
 In this do we not 
 find the recipe for 
 happiness? 
 
 His life had in 
 it all the elements 
 of sadness but 
 Robert Louis 
 Stevenson was 
 
 happy. 
 "Glad did I live 
 And gladly die 
 And I lay me 
 down with a will." 
 
 THE HIGHEST 
 OF HEDGES
 
 2OO 
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 Everywhere in Scotland the American visitor who is 
 accustomed to the predominance of wooden buildings in 
 urban communities at home, cannot fail to be impressed 
 with the stony aspect of the towns and cities. Aberdeen 
 is the stoniest looking city of them all; it is well called 
 the "Granite City." 
 
 Aberdonians are justly proud of Union Street. It is 
 
 WHERE STEVENSON WROTE "TREASURE 
 ISLAND," AT BRAEMAR 
 
 literally a granite avenue. So utterly 
 unrelieved is this mile-length of grey 
 granite that it sometimes appears 
 cold and uninviting, but when the 
 sun bursts forth after a heavy rain 
 Aberdeen becomes indeed "the silver 
 city by the sea" as its stones glisten 
 in the brilliant sunlight. 
 
 The most striking buildings are 
 those of Marischal College, which since 
 
 YOUNO SCOT
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 201 
 
 1860, together with King's College a mile away, has formed the 
 University of Aberdeen. The courses in law, medicine, and science 
 are given at Marischal; arts and divinity at King's. 
 
 Additions to the buildings have been made at various times 
 through the generosity of individuals, notably the severe but beauti- 
 ful Mitchell Tower, completed in 1895, and the extensive and still 
 fresh looking granite halls and courts opened by King Edward VII 
 in 1906. Marischal College is now the largest granite structure in 
 the world, and the Mitchell Tower, 250 feet, is the loftiest. The col- 
 lege was founded in 1593 by George Keith, fifth Earl Marischal, one 
 of the most cultured Scotchmen of his day. 
 
 It was in an old grammar school of Aberdeen that the foundations 
 of Lord Byron's education were laid. The poet was then just a little 
 lame boy, living in modest lodgings and grinding hard at the tasks 
 set him by stern Scottish school-masters. From 1794 to 1798 he 
 limped the granite streets of Aberdeen from the bridge over 
 the Dee to the Bridge 
 over the Don. 
 
 THE HOTEL AT BKAEMAR
 
 202 
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 There are in- 
 
 numerable 
 churches in this 
 solemn city and 
 on a Sunday it is 
 edifying to ob- 
 serve the popula- 
 t i on moving 
 seemingly en masse 
 to these many 
 places of worship. 
 Church-going 
 might almost be 
 said to be one of 
 the leading indus- 
 tries of Aberdeen. 
 It is inspiring to 
 see the kilted reg- 
 
 THE POST OFFICE 
 
 IN THE GRANITE STREETS OF ABERDEEI>
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 203 
 
 EET IN ABERDEEN 
 
 iments marching churchward from their barracks to the thrilling 
 music of the pipes. Piping the garrison to church is the only enter- 
 taining spectacle to be witnessed on a Sabbath in this intensely religi- 
 ous and seventh-day-observing city. 
 
 Naturally all theaters and other places of amusement are closed; 
 all manner of work is of course prohibited. No one is supposed to do 
 on Sunday the things that can be put off until a week-day morrow. 
 
 Many a pious passer-by looked askance at the camera which I 
 had ventured to bring into the 
 streets and, when unable 
 to resist the tempta- 
 tion I leveled it at 
 the passing pip- 
 ers, one solemn 
 deacon- like per- 
 sonage halted, 
 looked me square- 
 ly in the eye and 
 
 DOMESTIC GRANITE
 
 2O4 
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 sternly said, "Are ye not ashamed to 
 be making photographs on this, 
 the Sabbath day?" 
 
 I fear I was not even 
 ashamed of not being 
 ashamed but I ac- 
 cepted his reproof in 
 the sincere spirit in 
 which it was offered 
 and waited until he 
 was safely in his pew 
 before committing any 
 further photographic 
 impieties. 
 Of course no traveler 
 leaves Aberdeen without having 
 witnessed the amazing activities of the 
 great fish market where vast quantities of 
 sea-food brought in daily except Sunday by the famous 
 
 TART OF THE UNIVERSITY OF ABERDEEN
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 205 
 
 steam trawler fleet are disposed of to the highest bidder. Were it 
 not for the frequent fish-train-specials that are rushed off to all parts 
 of the kingdom, Aberdeen would be overwhelmed by that never-ceas- 
 ing invasion of fresh fish from the teeming waters of the North Sea. 
 
 THE MITCHELL TOWER 
 
 Day after day, hundreds of tons of the wealth of the seas is sold 
 and resold here. The enormous lots of various kinds of fish are sold 
 at auction the auctioneer and buyers moving along in a noisy, 
 eager mass of calmly excited humanity from one silver-paved section 
 of the pier to another section where deep-sea denizens of other tints 
 are spread out like a myriad sacrifice to the appetite of the Empire. 
 During the war the Aberdeen trawlers did heroic service as mine 
 sweepers and patrols in the North Sea. 
 
 For me, however, another city, Inverness, possessed more charm
 
 206 
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 AN ABERDEEN FISH AUCTION 
 
 than any other Sottish town save only Edinburgh. It has a color- 
 ful, quaint charm that reminded me of Pisa and of Florence. There 
 was a grateful, pleasing something about the place that made us think 
 of those river-side art-cities of old Italy. 
 
 CHURCHWARDS
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 207 
 
 Yet Inverness is Scottish to the core. The castle on the heights, 
 the spires of the churches, the clouds in the high sky, all these are 
 eloquent of Scotland of her history, her romance, her religion, her 
 
 THE HEROIC TRAWLERS OF ABERDEEN 
 
 hardy people, and her rigorous 
 climate, which has helped 
 to make the people what 
 they are. 
 
 The most com- 
 manding monument 
 of Inverness is that 
 of the Jacobite hero- 
 ine, Flora Macdonald, 
 who from the castle hill 
 looks down upon the city. 
 
 PIPING THE MEN TO CHURCH
 
 208 
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 WHERE STOOD IN OLDEN DAYS THE CASTLE OF MACBETH 
 
 She was a daughter of the Macdonalds of the Hebrides. When Bonnie 
 Prince Charlie fled thither after the battle of Culloden, she assumed 
 the perilous task of assuring his safety and effecting his escape. It 
 was disguised as Betty Burke, the Irish spinning maid of the heroic 
 
 Flora, that Prince Charles Edward, pre- 
 tender to the throne, finally evaded 
 his pursuers. Flora suffered im- 
 
 FLORA MACDONALD
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 209 
 
 prisonment in the Tower of London, but was freed by the Act of In- 
 demnity in 1747. Later she married a Macdonald and emigrated to 
 America, but returned to die in Scotland, leaving many sturdy sons 
 to perpetuate the grand old Macdonald name. 
 
 INVERNESS ON THE RIVER NESS 
 
 Inverness on the River Ness, is the northern terminal port of the 
 Caledonian Canal, that artificial river or better, that chain of ca- 
 nalized lakes which runs through the Great Glen of Scotland from 
 northeast to southwest, from the North Sea to the Atlantic Ocean. 
 It is sixty miles in length, and saves a four-hundred-mile voyage around 
 the stormy north end of Britain. It is two-thirds a natural water- 
 way, only one-third an artificial channel. Three long, narrow lakes 
 lying almost end to end, have been connected by twenty-two miles 
 of man-made channels. Loch Oich, the middle lake of the three, 
 is only 100 feet above the Atlantic sea-level. There are in all twenty- 
 eight locks with an average lift of eight feet each. The finest series
 
 210 
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 THE LOCKS OF FORT AUGUSTUS 
 
 burial among the great in Westminster Abbey. 
 
 of them being at Fort Augustus 
 where the canal touches 
 Loch Ness. The de- 
 signer of the Caledo- 
 nian Canal was 
 Thomas Telford, 
 who also planned 
 the famous Gota 
 Canal in Sweden. 
 To this son of a 
 Scottish shep- 
 herd, Scotland owes 
 most of her finest 
 highland highways and 
 her most important 
 waterway. So highly was 
 the work of his lifetime re- 
 garded by the nation that at his 
 death, in 1834, his body was given 
 
 ON THE CALEDONIAN CANAL
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 211 
 
 Our interesting cross-country trip by water brings us to the pretty 
 town of Oban, a great touristic center which has been called the "Char- 
 ing Cross of the Highlands," because it is a place of so many hurried 
 goings and comings of eager folk who are bound otherwhere. Among 
 the "otherwheres" to which we must not fail to go are the islands of 
 lona and of Staffa, reached like so many other interesting other- 
 wheres, by .-- ^^"^fc. swift, con- 
 
 OBAN THE CHARING CROSS OF THE HIGHLANDS 
 
 venient little tourist steamers that begin their daily run at 
 Oban's busy piers. 
 
 The Sacred Island of lona was the cradle of Scottish Christianity. 
 The story of lona is the story of Christianity in this far corner of the 
 world. The restored Cathedral marks the scene of the early labors 
 of St. Columba, who might be called the St. Patrick of the Scots. 
 With equal justice St. Patrick might be called the St. Columba of the 
 Irish. Strange to say, St. Patrick, who carried Christianity to Ire-
 
 212 
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 land, was a Scotsman and St. Columba, who 
 began the Christianizing of Scotland at lona in 
 the year 563 A. D., was an Irishman. One good 
 Saint deserves another! For 
 centuries this bleak and bar- 
 ren island was the strong- 
 hold of the faith, the 
 
 THE CRADLE OF SCOTTISH 
 CHRISTIANITY
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 213 
 
 center of the new civilization of the Celtic world. Before the 
 Reformation three hundred and sixty great Celtic crosses looked 
 out from lona's holy shores. Only two of them remain erect 
 to-day. So holy was the place in the early centuries that the 
 bodies of dead kings and chieftains were sent here for burial in the 
 sacred soil. Even to-day there are to be seen the tombstones of 
 four dozen Scottish Kings including murderous Macbeth him- 
 
 RS OF THE ISLAND OF STAFFA 
 
 self, four Irish monarchs, and eight mighty Scandinavian Viking 
 chiefs. 
 
 Not far far from lona lies the amazing island of Staff a. The 
 name is from the Scandinavian and signifies staff or pillar in 
 allusion to the pillar- or column-like structure of the basaltic rocks. 
 All this curious formation came forth as molten lava once upon a 
 time, and in the sudden cooling of that lava, as it touched the sea,
 
 214 
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 FINGAL S CAVE 
 
 the solidifying mass was cracked and riven accurately in geometric 
 patterns, as we see it now. 
 
 But the great wonder of this wonder island is the amazing cavern 
 known as Fingal's Cave. The Celtic name, Uamh Binn, means "Cave 
 of Music," and the wondrous music is furnished by the rolling deep. 
 Anthems of peace are softly sung by the calm surges of the summer 
 sea; wild war-chants are bellowed by the raging waves of winter
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 Grimness, re- 
 moteness, bleakness, 
 have no terrors for a 
 true Scotsman. Scenes 
 of bleak loneliness that 
 depress the ordinary man 
 
 LIKE THE PAVEMENT OF 
 THE GIANTS' CAUSEWAY
 
 2l6 
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 IN CROFTER-LAND 
 
 seem to give grim joy to the Scot. He loves to see Dame Nature in 
 her frugal moods, and nowhere isshemore magnificently, grimly frugal 
 than in the Scottish island known as "the Misty Isle of Skye." Skye 
 is not on the beaten track of travelers, and that is why we go to Skye. 
 We go by motor through a series of lonely mainland valleys to 
 a lonely mainland port from which we and the car may cross to Skye, 
 passing a narrow strait by ferry. 
 
 Near the ferry (where we were held over for a long and sunny Sab- 
 bath by the strict Scotch ruling that no man may indulge in touring 
 on the seventh day) we saw a never-to-be-forgotten church. Never 
 in all my years of travel have I beheld a grimmer, more repellent 
 looking place of worship. It seemed to manifest in its grey, hard 
 angularity the spirit of John Knox himself. It seemed to preach 
 that grace and beauty are instinct with sinfulness,that virtue must be 
 grim, cold, and ugly, that the good and the true can have no converse 
 with the beautiful on pain of ceasing to be good and true. And so 
 we turned away and spent our quiet Sunday in pagan enjoyment of 
 the lovely vistas that a kindly, unregenerate Nature had spread aW
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 217 
 
 round about that wilfully repellent temple of a stern old faith. On 
 the morrow we found ourselves at last upon the shores of Skye, the 
 largest island of the Inner Hebrides. In Skye one is almost never 
 out of sight of the surrounding sea. So deeply indented are the 
 shores that no point in all of the large island is more than five miles 
 from tide water. Thus inland hamlets lie, at one and the same time 
 amid the inland mountains and beside some long and narrow loch 
 whose salty waters ebb and flow, responsive to the dictates of the 
 distant ocean. 
 
 In Skye we saw for the first time a crofter's cottage. A croft is 
 defined as "a small enclosed field, or a piece of high and dry land, not 
 big enough to be called a farm, or to support a family." A crofter is a 
 man who works a croft, and pays a small rent for the privilege of re- 
 maining always poor; in other words, a crofter is a man who is up 
 against a croft; and crofting is apparently a hopeless proposition. 
 
 THE GRIM OLD KIRK
 
 2l8 
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 The poverty of the Scotch crofters is proverbial. For generations 
 they have dwelt in comfortless lairs with little hope of ever improving 
 their condition. Royal Commissions have investigated the crofters 
 and their complaints, and as a result of the Crofter's Act, things now 
 look a little brighter for the hardy, patient people of the Isle of Skye. 
 We saw a number of new, decent homes; we saw a few crofter cot- 
 tages that had developed into real farm houses. But even in the 
 humblest, poorest hovels we found the people clean, healthy, and 
 
 intelligent. We marvel at the 
 
 incongruity ^^^' ~~"~"~-\^ between 
 
 THE ISLE OF SKYE 
 
 the self-respecting manner and speech of the crofters and the 
 wretchedness of their habitations. All had a certain, quiet, superior 
 dignity that inspired our respect. There was no sign of beggary 
 nothing obsequious. Nor was there any sign of insolence or of
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 219 
 
 WITH A LOAD OF PEAT 
 
 envious hostility to the traveler who flaunted his prosperity by 
 motor along these highways of the poor, on his way from one com- 
 fortable tourist hotel to another. 
 
 Skye seems to us the most "out-of-doors" country we have ever 
 
 CROFTERS COTTAGES
 
 220 
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 HOME OF THE CONTENTED CROFTER OF YESTERDAY
 
 SCOTLAND 221 
 
 seen. It has the widest kind of out-of-doors. There is something 
 splendidly primeval about the landscapes, with ancient looking cattle 
 in the foreground and ancient looking mountains bounding every 
 scene. As for the famous terriers, let me reassure all those who love 
 Skye terriers that they are still to be found literally upon their 
 native heath. 
 
 For those who love rock-climbing, the bleak bare mountains of 
 
 SKYE TERRIERS 
 
 Skye afford rare opportunities. We spent one rough day toiling over 
 and through Glen Sligachan on foot and up the cruel rocky trail that 
 leads through the chaotic highlands to several famous points of view. 
 Footsore and weary we looked up at Scuir-Na-Gillean's savage crests, 
 and breathless and dizzy, we looked down into the valley where the 
 lonely Lake of Coruisk sleeps its savage sleep. Because of the mists 
 we saw but little but enough to make us credit the statements of 
 enthusiastic Alpinists that the wild Cuchullin Hills ("Cuchullin" is
 
 222 
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 the way they write the name, "Coolin" is the way they speak it) 
 afford some of the riskiest and most thrilling rock-climbs in 
 the world to be attempted only by experienced mountaineers. 
 
 PORTREE, METROPOLIS OF SKYE 
 
 Skye is no summer resort 
 for those who love the 
 softnesses and luxuries of 
 travel. But for the 
 sturdy seeker after 
 strenuous adventure, 
 with wholesome 
 fatigue giving savor 
 to hard fare, the 
 misty isle is one of 
 the rare refuges from 
 the banalities of travel. 
 But to the thoughtful 
 
 IN PORTREE
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 223 
 
 traveler Scotland as a whole is one of the most worth while 
 countries in the world. It has remained, in spite of ever-closer 
 contact with nations less conservative, unalterably and absolutely 
 
 Scotch in speech and 
 manner, customs and 
 ideals. It is a land 
 with a flavor all its 
 own a flavor as un- 
 like that of other 
 lands as the music of 
 the Scottish pipe is 
 unlike any other music 
 made by man. And 
 best of all the heroic 
 spirit of Old Scotland 
 that found expres- 
 
 A SKYfe SF.J^IKY
 
 224 
 
 SCOTLAND 
 
 sion in the lives of Wallace and of Bruce has lost none of its victory- 
 compelling power with the passing of the centuries. The battlefields 
 of France and Flanders bear witness to the martial prowess of the 
 modern sons of an old fighting race. It was a Scot who led the armies 
 of Great Britain to the greatest of all victories in the greatest of all 
 wars.
 
 IRELAND
 
 I 
 
 RELAND 
 
 RELAND is rich rich in many things that 
 richer nations lack. Ireland is rich in beauty, 
 rich in pride of race, in devotion to religion, and in a fearless hope- 
 fulness that the worst misfortunes cannot kill. 
 
 To one who does not know the beautiful green island whence have 
 come our many Irish fellow-citizens, their love and admiration for 
 their native isle may appear strange. Why should they love a coun- 
 try where their fathers suffered? What affection do they owe to poor 
 old Ireland, always pictured to us as a distressful country, as a land 
 of poverty and woe? Yet go to Ireland look upon her beauty, 
 realize her wealth of possibilities, feel the cheering warmth of Irish 
 welcome, treat your eyes to Irish smiles, your ears to Irish wit; let 
 the simple sincerity of Irish life reveal to you the unsuspected depths
 
 228 
 
 IRELAND 
 
 LEAVING HOLYHEAD 
 
 of Irish character and you will understand 
 
 why Irishmen love Ireland, and you, too, will 
 
 often turn with loving and regretful glances 
 
 toward the beautiful, unhappy island that lies so near to England 
 
 and yet so far away if distance is measured by mutual understanding. 
 
 In Ireland the traveler will find all the elements for a picture-story 
 altogether picturesque and pleasing to the eye as Ireland herself 
 is pleasing to the eye of anyone who 
 looks upon her with a just 
 preciation of her fortunes 
 and misfortunes, her not- 
 forgotten sufferings, 
 her honest aspirations, 
 and her unnumbered 
 and enduring charms. 
 
 Getting to Ireland is 
 in ordinary times a simple 
 matter. Nine hours of 
 
 ap- 
 
 NEARINC IRELAND
 
 IRELAND 
 
 229 
 
 travel bring us from the British to the Irish Capital with celerity 
 and comfort. A fast train carries us to Holyhead. a port near 
 the northwestern corner of the little land that Welshmen call their 
 own, and thence a rapid channel steamer carries us sixty-four miles 
 due west to Kingstown, one of the ports of Dublin, only six miles 
 from the North Wall in Dublin proper where other steamers dock. 
 
 KINGSTOWN 
 
 This watery path to Dublin can be at times as rough as the rocki- 
 est of rocky roads to that same city. The Irish Channel seems to 
 enjoy giving all travelers who come from Britain a humorously 
 vengeful shaking up. From Kingstown frequent Irish trains trans- 
 port us to the Metropolis. The name of Dublin from the ancient 
 Gaelic "Duibh-linn" means the "Black Pool," but why this name 
 was given to the place is not quite clear; possibly in allusion to the 
 murky waters of the River Liffey on the banks of which the city rose. 
 Speaking of the River Liffey the guide book a "bully" Irish guide 
 book says that "this watery highway is a great land-mark that can
 
 230 
 
 IRELAND 
 
 never be mistaken!" Any traveler who has been rash enough to 
 lean over the parapet of the O'Connell Bridge and take "a sniffy of 
 the niffy Liffey" will agree that it can never be mistaken for a field 
 of new mown hay. The same guidebook tells us that Sackville 
 
 SACKVILLE STREET IN DUBLIN 
 
 Street, the leading thoroughfare of Dublin, is the finest street in the 
 United Kingdom. It is, or rather was, a nobly impressive avenue 
 before the destruction of its finest buildings, notably the General 
 Post Office commonly called the G. P. O. in the ill-advised out- 
 break of anti-British hostilities during the World War. At that time 
 many splendid buildings were wrecked by conflagrations or by shell 
 fire from the British gun-boats in the river.
 
 IRELAND 
 
 The noble Nelson Pillar, however, was not overturned and it still 
 dominates the splendidly wide stretch of this Broadway of the Irish 
 Capital. Atop the pillar is a colossal figure of Horatio Nelson, hero 
 of Trafalgar the man who, when about to do battle with the Em- 
 pire's enemies, hoisted the signal, "England expects every man will 
 do his duty." These words have ever since inspired Britain's navy. 
 
 Another memorial of another hero stands in Sackville Street. At 
 the south end, near the O'Connell Bridge, rises the monument to 
 Daniel O'Connell, the Irish statesman who bears the inspiring title 
 of "The Liberator." He was the great champion of the Catholic 
 Irish in their struggle for emancipation from the harsh penal code 
 which kept them in a sort of slavery. Irish Catholics in his day were 
 treated almost as pariahs. Protestants ruled the land. 
 
 O'Connell was an Irish aristocrat, but a hater of the aristocratic 
 British rulers of his country. He was an agitator but one who 
 recognized the folly and futility of 
 anarchy and communism. He 
 was a profoundly religious 
 man, holding with intense 
 fidelity to the faith of 
 his fathers. He was 
 one of the most 
 conservative liberals 
 or radicals of his 
 time. He was a 
 lawyer of unusual 
 skill and resource, 
 without a rival in 
 the art of winning 
 over juries and 
 when he brought 
 the cause of 
 Catholic Ire- 
 
 O'CONNELI.'S MONUMENT
 
 232 IRELAND 
 
 land versus Protestant England before the bar of public opinion of 
 the world, Ireland knew that her case was in most expert hands. 
 The Catholic Association formed by O'Connell grew in numbers 
 and in power until it represented a great national movement - 
 orderly discreetly within the law and irresistible. The Catholic 
 
 THE PARLIAMENT HOUSE AND GRATTAN's STATUE 
 
 claims were granted in 1829. Meantime O'Connell had become one 
 of the leading figures in the British Parliament where he strove ever 
 for the good of Ireland. But in supporting the campaign for the 
 Repeal of the Union in 1842 and 1843 he ran counter to that 
 all-powerful public opinion which had been with the cause of the 
 Catholic claims in 1829. He was arrested, convicted and set free. 
 The question of Repeal was lost in the horrors of the great famine
 
 IRELAND 
 
 233 
 
 THE BANK OF IRELAND 
 
 in Ireland and, in 1847, while on his way to Rome, O'Connell "The 
 Liberator" breathed his last. He sleeps now in Glasnevin Cemetery, 
 his slumber guarded by a great round tower, a modern replica of the 
 
 TRINITY COLLEGE
 
 IRELAND 
 
 TRINITY COLLEGE LIBRARY 
 
 ancient Celtic round towers that mark so many holy places in the 
 land he loved and served so well. He had once said, "My heart to 
 Rome, my body to Ireland, my soul to Heaven." 
 
 The life and efforts of Henry Grattan, another famous lover of 
 this much-loved and much-wronged land of Erin, are commemo- 
 rated by another monument that stands before the classic fagade of 
 the impressive old stone pile that was once upon a time the Parlia- 
 ment House of Ireland. Later it was occupied by the Bank of Ireland, 
 but within its halls Irishmen may again make Irish laws for Ireland. 
 Grattan as one of Ireland's greatest orators was the chief ornament of 
 that assembly. He was a Protestant. At that time no Catholic 
 could hold office in Ireland and all Irish legislative action was subject 
 to the approval of the Privy Council of Great Britain. Without its 
 consent no bill could be introduced in the Irish Parliament; once 
 introduced it could not be amended. But the greater part of legis- 
 lation for Ireland was done in England and absolutely without the 
 concurrence of the Dublin Parliament.
 
 IRELAND 
 
 235 
 
 THE FOUR COURTS 
 
 In 1782 "Grattan's Parliament," as it was called, issued its decla- 
 ration of independence. His wisdom and his oratory triumphed and 
 his Parliament was given powers hitherto denied it. In his own 
 words 
 
 "I found Ireland on her knees; I watched over her with paternal 
 solicitude; I have traced her progress from injuries to arms, and from 
 arms to liberty Ireland is now a nation !" 
 
 THE NEW MUSEUM AND LIBRARY
 
 236 
 
 IRELAND 
 
 In token of Ireland's gratitude a grant of a hundred thousand 
 pounds was voted him, but Grattan could not be forced to accept 
 more than the half of it. He was one of the leading opponents of the 
 union of the Dublin with the London Parliament but it was effected 
 in 1801 despite his protests. From his seat he had launched the 
 eloquent defi: "I will remain anchored here, with fidelity to the for- 
 tunes of my country, faithful to her freedom, faithful to her fall." 
 But five years later he took his place on the Irish benches at West- 
 
 GAELIC WORDS 
 
 minster. It is related that the great leader Fox, seeing Grattan 
 modestly occupying an inconspicuous back seat, led him forward 
 saying, "This is no place for the Irish Demosthenes." 
 
 He continued to serve Ireland well in London. As Sydney Smith 
 said, "No government ever dismayed him. The world could not 
 bribe him. He thought only of Ireland; lived for no other object; 
 dedicated to her his beautiful fancy, his elegant wit, his manly cour- 
 age, and all the splendor of his astonishing eloquence." Lecky 
 insists that "he had through the whole of his life a strong conviction
 
 IRELAND 
 
 237 
 
 that while Ireland could best be governed by Irish hands, democracy 
 in Ireland would inevitably turn to plunder and anarchy!" Although 
 consistently opposed to the union of the Irish with the British Parlia- 
 ment he said in his last speech in 1819: "The marriage having taken 
 place it is now the duty, as it ought to be the inclination, of every 
 individual to render it as fruitful, as profitable, and as advantageous 
 as possible." He died in the following year and was buried in West- 
 minster Abbey near the tombs of Pitt and Fox and other great ones 
 of the great nation to which he had remained ever loyal even 
 though at the same time he was assuming the role of the most power- 
 ful defender of the rights and most fearless denunciator of the wrongs 
 of Ireland. 
 
 His work was taken up and car- 
 ried on, as we have seen, by Daniel 
 O'Connell and after him came 
 James Stewart Parnell, whose grave 
 is within the shadow of the O'Con- 
 nell monument at Glasnevin. Since 
 Parnell 's time the champions of 
 Ireland have been many but their 
 work is not yet ended the future 
 alone can tell of their success or 
 failure. Posterity alone can assign 
 to them their rightful places among 
 the hosts of able, eager sons of Erin 
 who have labored, suffered, and died 
 for her welfare and her freedom. 
 
 To the traveler Dublin offers 
 an interesting contrast to London 
 and Edinburgh, the sister capitals. 
 Dublin, despite its noble buildings, 
 does not seem to be a show town 
 it's just Dublin. There are no 
 great new and luxurious hotels, 
 
 THE O COS NELL MONUMENT
 
 '38 
 
 IRELAND 
 
 with all modern conveniences and vulgarities and extravagances. 
 The best the city has to offer to the fastidious visitor is the his- 
 toric Shelbourne Hotel which will seem to him more like an over- 
 grown boarding house of the first class, than like a metropolitan 
 caravansary. But the longer the stranger stays the better he will 
 like the good old-fashioned Shelbourne. 
 
 In the course of our first visit we had seen the sights of Dublin 
 the two old Cathedrals, the superb pile called the Four Courts the 
 various buildings of Trinity College and the fine modern group 
 of buildings occupied by the Royal Dublin Society, the Library, the 
 Museum of Irish Antiquities, and the National Art Gallery of Ireland, 
 the latter containing a surprisingly well-chosen array of old masters 
 and of modern canvases. The collection of Irish antiquities is the 
 finest in the world, including as it does those famous specimens of 
 metal work the Cross of Cong, the Tara Brooches, and the Shrine 
 of St. Patrick's Bell and more precious than these works of art, 
 the very bell itself, the crude old holy bell, used by St. Patrick him- 
 self fourteen hundred years ago. 
 
 Still another visit had brought us to Dublin for the great and 
 famous annual Horse Show which for several decades has been num- 
 bered among the most im- 
 portant sporting events of the 
 old world. 
 
 During Horse Show Week 
 late in August, Dublin, 
 
 THE SHELBOURNE HOTEL
 
 IRELAND 
 
 239 
 
 becomes the Mecca of the fashionable world and the Shelbourne 
 Hotel becomes the goal of every fashionable pilgrim. Rooms must 
 be booked at least three months in advance; many people bespeak 
 
 STEPHEN S GREEN 
 
 their rooms from 
 year to year. We 
 arrived a week be- 
 fore the fashion- 
 able influx began. 
 It was interesting 
 to watch the rap- 
 id but temporary 
 transformation of 
 the simple old 
 hotel into a 
 
 DUBLIN DARLINGS
 
 24 
 
 IRELAND 
 
 IN THE DISTANCE, THE NELSON PILLAR 
 
 Dublin double of the London Ritz, Savoy, and Carlton. French 
 chefs took possession of the kitchen which became for the nonce a 
 cuisine. Polyglot waiters from the spas of the Continent re- 
 placed the broguey Dublin boys who wait at table in ordinary 
 seasons. Fine linen, rare porcelain, exquisite glassware, and rich 
 old silver plate made their brief annual appearances upon the 
 
 THE THEATRE ROYAL
 
 IRELAND 
 
 241 
 
 tables of the dim old dining room and while the Horse Show 
 visitors remain, the hotel is truly a hotel de luxe. 
 
 Ten thousand people gather at the Exhibition Grounds at Ball's 
 Bridge on each of the four days of the Dublin Horse Show, which is 
 essentially a "hunter" show. Irish hunters are the finest in the world. 
 Buyers from all corners of the world gather to get the pick of the 
 
 SUBURBAN ARCHITECTURE 
 
 prize-winners. The crowning feature of each day's program is the 
 jumping competition. There are all kinds of jumps to test the skill 
 of the riders and the strength, agility, endurance, and courage of the 
 hunters. There are ordinary hurdles, fences, ditches, banks, and 
 double banks over which the hunters seem to fly, and there are stone 
 walls five feet high walls of solid masonry with a few loose cobble 
 stones heaped along the top. Over these obstacles the flying horses 
 go, as lightly and as surely as sea-gulls skim the frothy wave. On the 
 last day of the show, after the last hoof has flung defiance at the skies,
 
 242 
 
 IRELAND 
 
 TAKING THE FIVE FOOT STONE WALL 
 
 Fashion forsakes Ball's Bridge and goes a'jaunting in a thousand 
 jaunting cars to one of the many race courses that abound in the 
 vicinity of Dublin. But as horse racing is to me one of the least 
 
 IRISH HVNTEIIS
 
 IRELAND 
 
 243 
 
 alluring of all sports except at Longchamps or Auteuil, where you 
 can't see the horses for the frocks and frills I went a'jaunting in 
 other directions out to the Hill of Howth, whence one can look at 
 "Ireland's Eye" --which little island got its name from the old 
 Danes who once ruled all this region. Their word for island was 
 "oe" and that's so near the modern Irish way of saying "eye" 
 that the "Oe of Ireland" becomes quite naturally Ireland's Eye. 
 Upon that island stood a very famous ancient chapel where was en- 
 
 AT THE DUBLIN HORSE SHOW 
 
 shrined a copy of the Four Gospels executed in the seventh cen- 
 tury. It was known as the "Garland of Howth" and is now preserved 
 in the Library of Trinity College in Dublin. 
 
 For longer jaunts the hurried traveler will exchange the fascinat- 
 ing but unspeedy jaunting car for a swift, prosaic touring car. The 
 road southward from Dublin is an inviting one, bordered as it is by 
 the magnificent estates of the Irish aristocracy. One of those lordly
 
 244 
 
 IRELAND 
 
 ON THE WAY TO HOWTH 
 
 mansions was once the wigwam of a great chief from the new world, 
 the one-time cacique of the conquering Irish clan called Tammany 
 which, since his time, with brief interruptions, has continued to rule 
 
 BY JAUNTING CAR AND TRAM
 
 IRELAND 
 
 the greatest city of the western hemisphere in 
 its own peculiar way. Boss Croker here sat at 
 
 245 
 
 IRELAND S EYE FROM THE HILL OF HOWTH 
 
 ease, far from Fourteenth Street and the troubled throne of Tarn- 
 
 THIS IS IRELAND
 
 246 
 
 IRELAND 
 
 many but his reign is not forgot- 
 ten and the chiefs of the clan 
 have perpetuated his meth- 
 ods o f subjugating and 
 governing the native 
 American aristocracy and 
 the polyglot proletariat 
 of the metropolis of the 
 United States. 
 Among the famous places 
 in the environs of Dublin we 
 must not fail to mention 
 Donnybrook celebrated for its 
 old-time annual Fair about which 
 so many stories have been told. The 
 first recorded Fair was held there in the reign of good King John, 
 who was "graciously pleased" to grant a license for it in the year 
 1204. Doubtless, the medieval towns-folk and peasants who fre- 
 
 SOUTH OF DUBLIN
 
 IRELAND 
 
 247 
 
 quented the earlier 
 Fairs were on their 
 good behavior; but 
 with the passing of 
 the years the doings 
 there at Donny- 
 brook waxed more 
 and more disorderly 
 until the name of 
 "Donnybrook Fair" 
 came to stand for 
 all that was merry 
 and maudlin, "peppy" and pugnacious, bibulous and bellicose. 
 Even the fabled Kilkenny Cats began to look askance at Donnybrook, 
 and finally in 1855, the scandals of the Fair having become inter- 
 nationally notorious, the authorities bought out the rights of the 
 proprietors and suppressed the historic quarrelsome carouse. 
 
 Another name that conjures up strange doings of past days is 
 Dalkey. In that little sea-port city was the scene of the peculiar and 
 fantastic ceremonials of the so-called "Kingdom of Dalkey." There 
 every year a Carnival King held festive Court. His title was no less 
 
 A PRIVATE ESTATE 
 
 AN IRISH CASTLE
 
 2 4 8 
 
 IRELAND 
 
 than this: "His Facetious Majesty, Stephen the First, King of Dalkey, 
 Emperor of Muglins, Prince of the Holy Island of Magee, Elector of 
 Lambay and Ireland's Eye, Defender of his own Faith and Respecter 
 of all others, Sovereign of the Illustrious Order of the Lobster and the 
 Periwinkle." Twenty thousand persons attended the coronation of 
 the last of those burlesque potentates whose "Kingdom" was abol- 
 
 ished in 1797 much to the regret of his myriads of subjects. All of 
 which proves that the Irish of those days possessed a sufficient sense 
 of humor to take matters that were really of no consequence with a 
 seriousness and solemnity that was appalling. 
 
 It was while motoring down the coast from Dalkey that we col- 
 lided with an Irish bull at a garage. Rumors of a scarcity of gaso- 
 line had alarmed us and we eagerly inquired if the price of "petrol" 
 had gone up. "No," said the garage-keeper, "the price of petrol is 
 quite the same, Sir but there isn't any!"
 
 IRELAND 
 
 249 
 
 ....-* . 
 
 BRAY HEAD HOTEL 
 
 A run of thirteen miles southward from Dublin brings us to Bray, 
 "the Irish Brighton" the most easily accessible and most popu- 
 lar of the seaside resorts of the beautiful Wicklow Coast. We 
 pause at Bray only long enough for a stroll along the esplanade, 
 
 "TAV" AT BRAY
 
 IRELAND 
 
 250 
 
 scramble up the bold promontory of Bray Head, and a cup of "tay" 
 at one of the tiny tea rooms. Farther on in the heart of County 
 Wicklow, there awaits us a place that ranks far higher among the 
 beauty spots of Ireland. It is the very famous, very sacred, and very 
 
 ley called 
 beautiful val- 
 
 Glen- 
 
 THE VAI.E OF Ol.ENDALOUGH 
 
 the Glen of the Two Lakes. This green, green glen with its 
 two lovely lakes, its comfortable inn, its seven ancient Celtic 
 churches, and its grim old Irish Tower, has been a very holy place 
 for more than thirteen hundred years. In the sixth century Glen- 
 dalough was a city of churches and nunneries and monasteries, 
 founded by the great Saint Kevin, who was a very holy man of royal
 
 IRELAND 
 
 251 
 
 Irish blood. Myth 
 and legend have ever 
 since been busy with 
 his name and fame. 
 He dwelt for five 
 long years in a tomb- 
 like pigeon-hole in 
 the rocky cliff that 
 rises from the waters 
 of the upper of the 
 two sacred lakes. 
 
 As Tom Moore 
 tells us 
 
 "By that lake whose gloomy shore 
 Skylark never warbled o'er, 
 Where the cliff hangs high and steep 
 Young St. Kevin stole to sleep." 
 
 His tiny cavern is still called "Saint Kevin's Bed." It is related 
 that even in this almost inaccessible retreat he was not safe from the 
 
 THE ROUND TOWER
 
 252 
 
 IRELAND 
 
 pursuit of the notorious lady of this lake -the exquisite vampire of 
 that far-off day, the beautiful Kathleen, who adored him but not 
 in the manner in which saints should be adored. Her eyes, according 
 to the chroniclers of the period, were "of a most unholy blue." 
 Evidently there were blonde vampires in those days. But the saint 
 
 THE UPPER LAKE OF GLENDALOUOH 
 
 was of the ilk of Anthony. Our guide informs us that the good Saint 
 Kevin was "so holy" that when the terribly sweet Kathleen intruded 
 upon his devotions he tossed her into the lake where she was "drownd- 
 ed dead" but this seems to us an ungodly way to treat a lady. 
 
 To-day Saint Kevin's Bed is a place of pilgrimage for spinsters 
 young and otherwise. A rough and risky stairway has been fashioned 
 in the almost vertical face of the cliff and by means of it, damsels 
 desirous of reaching the refuge of the holy man may climb nearly to 
 their destination but really to reach it, they must have the help 
 of the two sturdy and skillful guides who have had years of practice
 
 IRELAND 
 
 253 
 
 in lifting fair pilgrims around a jut- 
 ^ ting angle of the cliff and sliding 
 them feet foremost into old 
 Saint Kevin's ancient "upper 
 berth." The guides assure 
 all comers that any wish 
 t made while lying snugly 
 there in Kevin's Bed will 
 without fail be soon 
 fulfilled to the letter. 
 
 They insist that 
 every colleen who has 
 I ever made a wish for 
 [ a handsome husband 
 there, has invariably 
 
 returned the follow- 
 ing season to thank 
 the Saint and ex- 
 hibit the husband. 
 Hence the rushing 
 business done every 
 summer by those 
 strong-armed guides 
 of Glendalough.
 
 254 
 
 IRELAND 
 
 However, most Irish girls are sure of getting husbands without 
 
 bothering Saint Kevin or any other saint; they have a way with them. 
 
 Another lovely scenic treasure in this lovely land is found in the 
 
 THE VALE OF OVOCA 
 
 Vale of Ovoca, through which flow the 
 mingled waters of the Avonmore 
 and the Avonbeg. These rivers, 
 at the meeting of their waters, 
 lose their identities and names 
 and become the Ovoca River, 
 taking the name of the world- 
 famous vale through which 
 they roll on toward the sea. 
 The Vale of Avoca, as Tom 
 
 TOM MOORE S TREE
 
 IRELAND 
 
 255 
 
 . 
 
 IN THE VALE 
 
 Moore called it when he 
 sat beneath the tree that is 
 still known as Tom Moore's 
 Tree, and wrote the verses 
 that have made this valley 
 famous will always be for 
 us and for all the 
 world, the Vale of 
 Avoca despite the 
 efforts of the map- 
 makers and geog- 
 raphers and guide 
 books to tell us that 
 the name should be 
 But all agree with 
 
 spelled with an "O" and not with an "A." 
 Moore when he sings 
 
 "There is not in the wide 
 
 world a valley so sweet 
 As the vale in whose bosom the 
 bright waters meet." 
 
 High above the vale on the ridge of Cronebane lies the huge 
 
 THE MOTTHA STONE
 
 256 
 
 IRELAND 
 
 AH IRISH LANDSCAPE 
 
 Mottha Stone, left there, so say geologists, by the great glacier that 
 once covered with its icy mass the lovely region through which we 
 are traveling to-day under the warm and beaming summer sun. 
 
 It is always interesting to find oneself unexpectedly confronted by 
 a familiar name. This happens to us as we motor into an Irish vil- 
 lage and read, above the door of the humble and peaceful looking 
 post office, the familiar and belligerent name "SHILLELAGH." 
 We had never realized that there could be a place of that name. We 
 had always thought of a shillelah as a stick in the hands of an irate 
 Hibernian. Thus the educational possibilities of travel are impressed 
 upon us. Travel and learn ! Shillelagh is the name of a village in the 
 County Wicklow and of a neighboring wood from which come the 
 world-famous sticks or knotted staves that have broken so many 
 heads in the century-long quarrels of a quick-tempered people. The 
 real shillelah of Shillelagh is of oak or blackthorn and grows to stout 
 and formidable maturity in a little forest of that name. 
 
 After all that we have heard about "the hovels of the Irish peas-
 
 IRELAND 
 
 antry" we are amazed to find the 
 land so rich in neat and com- 
 fortable looking homes 
 We see many a charm- 
 ing little "hovel" that 
 we should be glad to 
 own. We see a hun- 
 dred spick and span 
 white cottages to every 
 mile, as trim and gleam- 
 ing as care and fresh coats 
 of whitewash can make 
 and keep them. We pass 
 through towns that are well 
 paved, well kept, and where even 
 the houses in the poorer streets are 
 wearing decent coats of white that's nearly white. 
 
 We as Americans cannot but contrast the trim and cared-for aspect 
 of these towns of "poor old Ireland" with the untidy, neglected, even 
 
 IN THE VILLAGE OF SHILLELAGH 
 
 SHILLELAGH POST OFFICE
 
 IRELAND 
 
 tumble-down appearance of the really rich and prosperous towns in 
 many of our wealthiest states. The traveler sees more conspicuous 
 evidences of neglect, of unpainted houses, of rubbish-filled back yards, 
 
 COLLEENS YOUNG AND OLD
 
 IRELAND 
 
 259 
 
 EGGS 
 
 SOLD IN THIS DAIRY 
 
 GUARANTEED 
 IRISH. 
 
 of ruinous out-houses, and of general 
 untidiness in crossing the proverbially 
 plutocratic states of Ohio and 
 Indiana than are to be observed 
 in all the length and breadth of 
 "poverty-stricken Ireland." We 
 Americans have the richest 
 country under Heaven and we 
 allow many of the places in it to 
 look like the Other Place! 
 Among the famous scenes in Ireland 
 none is more widely known by name 
 
 than Tara's Hill, which lies some twenty 
 miles from Dublin. We have all 
 heard how once "the Harp i 
 Tara's Halls" and the singers 
 of the ancient Celtic Kings 
 told of the glory of the land 
 of which this Hill of Tara 
 was for twenty-five hundred 
 years the capital and sanc- 
 tuary. It was the seat of 
 one hundred and forty-two 
 successive Kings of Ire- 
 land and the site of the 
 most holy temples. So 
 holy was the hill that no 
 man, even though he were 
 a king, might dwell there- 
 on if he possessed the 
 slightest physical imper- 
 fection. Standing on that 
 sacred site to-day it is 
 impressive to recall the
 
 2OO 
 
 IRELAND 
 
 AN IRISH 
 COTTAOtf 
 
 words of Dr. Healy who 
 reminds us that 
 "There was a royal 
 residence on the 
 Hill of Tara be- 
 fore Rome was 
 founded, before 
 Athena's earliest 
 shrine crowned 
 the acropolis of 
 Athens, about the 
 time perhaps that 
 
 sacred Ilium first saw the hostile standards of the Kings of Hellas." 
 The site of those holy Halls of Tara is marked now only by mounds 
 and ditches on the top of a hill, so broad and low as to appear almost 
 like the surface of a plain. A statue of St. Patrick crowns the ridge, 
 reminding us that Ireland's great Saint stood there in his own person 
 in the year 433 and preached to the assembled multitude. 
 
 In modern times a greater multitude of Catholic Irish folk as- 
 sembled here to listen to the mighty champion of their faith, Daniel 
 O'Connell. Two hundred and fifty thousand people were gathered 
 here that memorable day in 1843. 
 
 The statue of 
 Ireland's patron 
 saint is crude and 
 modern for it is 
 the work of a local 
 stone cutter, not 
 that of an old mas- 
 ter in the art of 
 sculpture. Near it 
 rises a thing of stone 
 that is indeed an- 
 tique if we may 
 
 GLEAMING 
 GATE POSTS
 
 IRELAND 
 
 261 
 
 credit all that legend says of it. It looks like a battered stone post, 
 imbedded in the sod, weathered and rounded by the centuries. It 
 is called the "Lia Fail" the "Stone of Destiny." It was once 
 the pillow of the Patriarch Jacob. It came to Ireland with the 
 Ark. It served as coronation seat for all the Irish Kings. It is 
 
 A WHITE HOME IN A GREEN LAND 
 
 now in two places! It stands here on Tara's Hill and yet accord- 
 ing to a host of historic witnesses it was carried to Scone in Scotland, 
 where Kings were crowned upon it thence it was taken by Edward 
 the Confessor to England, where since his time it has formed part of 
 the coronation chair in Westminster Abbey, where we ourselves have 
 also seen it with our own eyes as clearly as we see it now under 
 the Irish sky on Tara's holy hill. 
 
 But for a place so famous there is little to repay the traveler here 
 except the statue and the stone. We know not what they were like, 
 those vanished Halls of Tara, of which no picture has come down 
 to us; but in another part of Ireland the traveler may find structures
 
 262 
 
 IRELAND 
 
 ON THE HILL OF TARA 
 
 that doubtless were coeval with them ancient forts, older than 
 the memory of man mysterious monuments of a heroic age about 
 which we know practically nothing. 
 
 Staigue Fort in County Kerry was built not less than two thousand 
 years ago. The stones were laid without a trace of mortar; a single 
 door gives access and there are stairways leading from the inner court 
 up to the platforms where the defenders stood behind a parapet of 
 which a portion even now remains. 
 
 Equally interesting, though far less 
 celebrated than either Tara or Staigue 
 Fort is the tumulus of Newgrange, 
 about twenty miles from Tara's 
 Hill. Yet even Newgrange is, at 
 first sight, disappointing a low 
 hill tufted with a clump of trees. 
 Nevertheless it is one of the 
 most important prehistoric mon- 
 uments in Ireland, a creation 
 resembling the tombs discovered 
 by Dr. Schliemann on the site 
 of the prehistoric city of Mycenae 
 in old Greece. The hill of Newgrange 
 
 ST. PATRICK AND THE STONE OF DESTINY
 
 IRELAND 
 
 263 
 
 is not a natural hill, it is a pile of masonry now completely hidden by 
 the overgrowing vegetation, leaving nothing to indicate that man had 
 formed it, except the circle of huge stones that stand at regular in- 
 tervals around its base. There are now only twelve, but there were 
 
 STAIGUE FORT 
 
 at one time thirty of those encircling boulders. The low doorway is 
 marked by a gigantic oval stone, on which appear strange carved 
 designs, recalling the spirals on the golden disks that Schliemann 
 found in the tomb of Agamemnon. A long narrow corridor, just 
 high enough for a dwarf and wide enough for a thin man, invites us 
 to enter on hands and knees; invites, or rather forbids, for our 
 Irish driver crosses himself and murmurs, "Not for wurrulds." We, 
 too, have our misgivings but we crawl in, and creep forward sixty- 
 two feet in utter blackness, until at last the passage broadens into a 
 circular chamber in which we can stand erect. This was undoubtedly
 
 264 
 
 IRELAND 
 
 NEWGRANGE 
 
 the burial chamber of some now unremembered Irish king, whose 
 bones and treasure were long since stolen by the Norsemen or the 
 Danes. Above our heads a dome nineteen feet high, formed by great 
 stones, each overhanging by a trifle the one below, in the manner of 
 the prehistoric arches found in the cyclopean citadel of Tiryns in 
 Greece. We stumble over several huge stone basins; we note on three 
 sides, alcoves or recesses; and we observe on nearly all the larger 
 stones, strange figures and designs, cut by crude instruments held in 
 crude prehistoric hands. 
 
 Not very far from Newgrange there was fought in 1690 the most 
 momentous battle in the history of Ireland. It was the Battle of the 
 Boyne the spot where it raged fiercest 
 marked by an obelisk mirrored to-day in 
 the placid waters of the lovely River 
 Boyne. Two hundred years and 
 more have passed since William of 
 Orange here met and defeated the 
 Irish forces of his own father-in- 
 law, James the Second, from 
 whom he had already taken the 
 throne of England, less than two
 
 IRELAND 
 
 265 
 
 PREHISTORIC SYMBOLS 
 
 years before. The defeated James fled to Dublin and the army that 
 had marched with him out from the gates of Drogheda was dis- 
 persed by a super- 
 ior force. The old 
 walled town of 
 Drogheda which 
 boasts one of the 
 finest fortified 
 gates in all Ireland, 
 surrendered to 
 King William on 
 the following day. 
 Near Drogheda 
 are found the finest 
 Celtic crosses in 
 the land. They 
 stand in the old 
 
 N THE TOMB CHAMBER
 
 266 
 
 IRELAND 
 
 cemetery of Monasterboice. They are two in number, of dull grey 
 stone; one is fifteen feet in height, the other twenty-seven feet, 
 but less elaborately carved. From top to bottom nearly every inch 
 of surface has been shaped by the chisel of the artist, bringing into 
 low relief designs and figures of amazing quaintness, some of them 
 
 THE GATE OF DROGHKD* 
 
 even ludicrous in the eyes of the sophisticated modern critic, and 
 yet all imbued with the naive religious feeling of ten hundred years 
 ago, for these crosses are at least a thousand years of age. 
 
 They are nearly as old as the Round Tower that holds its broken 
 head one hundred and ten feet above this burial ground. The Round 
 Tower of Ireland is a unique, characteristic architectural form. 
 Nothing precisely like it has been found in any other country. There 
 are in Ireland no fewer than eighty of these ancient Round Towers,
 
 IRELAND 
 
 267 
 
 twenty of which are prac- 
 tically intact, and still 
 ^k crowned with their 
 conical caps of 
 stone. 
 
 Many fan- 
 tastic theories 
 have been ad- 
 vanced to ac- 
 count for these 
 monuments of such a 
 strange simplicity. They 
 have been ascribed to the Persi- 
 ans, the Phoenicians, the Druids and 
 the Danes; but to-day authorities agree that they were simply the 
 belfries of the old Irish monasteries, the ruins of which are almost 
 invariably found close at hand. The belfries served also as citadels 
 
 BATTLEFIELD OF THE BOYNE 
 
 DROCHEDA
 
 268 
 
 IRELAND 
 
 in case of sudden onslaught by the 
 Norse or Danish pirates of those 
 wild old days when Viking 
 fleets were always hover- 
 ing along the Irish shore. 
 We note that the few 
 windows are like loop- 
 holes and that the 
 door is always six or 
 nine feet from the 
 ground. The perfect 
 preservation of these tow- 
 ers seems not so remarkable 
 when we consider their 
 structure and their 
 
 form; they are of 
 each block adjusted 
 crack nor cranny; 
 
 stone, 
 
 with astonishing precision, leaving no 
 they are round, opposing no angles 
 
 CARVED 
 A THOUSAND 
 YEARS AGO 
 
 THE CEMETERY OF 
 
 MON A STEREO ICE
 
 IRELAND 
 
 269 
 
 to the elements; their tops are shaped like a half-closed umbrella, 
 shedding the snow and rain; and thus secure in their strength 
 and their simplicity they have outlived by many hundred years the 
 ornate churches to which their bells once called the Celtic Christians. 
 In the ancient Irish annals the name Cloigtheach or "House of 
 a Bell" is given to these towers, and this in itself should be sufficient 
 to convince us that they correspond to the Campaniles of Italy or 
 the Beffrois of France or the Belfries of England. 
 
 THE FAMOUS CROSS OF MUIREDACH 
 
 We know, however, or should know, that the names Beffroi or 
 Belfry do not refer to bells. Strictly speaking a belfry was a forti- 
 fied tower, or a tall and slender citadel in which, of course, great 
 bells were hung for the sounding of alarms; but the presence of those 
 bells was in no way responsible for the name given to the tower 
 although common usage now accepts a belfry as a tower in which bells 
 are hung. It is worthy of remark that the Cloigtheach of Ireland 
 are found only along the coast or along the courses of rivers or on 
 the shores of lakes always overlooking the waters known to have 
 been visited by the marauding flotillas of the desperate Danes. 
 The most nearly perfect tower of them all rises on a deserted island
 
 270 
 
 IRELAND 
 
 of the lovely sheet of water known as Lough Erne -a lake that cuts 
 in two the County of Fermanagh, a lake that is in reality a strangely 
 broadened river that reaches the sea at Ballyshannon. The island 
 bears the name of Devenish or as the ancient Celts yclept it, 
 Daimh-inis "The Island of Oxen." We found a herd of cows in 
 
 THE HOLY RUINS OF DEVENISH ISLAND 
 
 occupation drowsing or browsing lazily within the sacred precincts 
 of what was once one of the holiest and most artistic ecclesiastic 
 establishments of the mid-fifteenth century. 
 
 Good St. Molaise is said to have ruled the region with the scepter 
 of his pious authority. His "House" or "Kitchen" as it is variously 
 styled still stands a stony ruin on the site. Near it looms what is 
 left of his "Great Church" or Daimhling and his "Bed" in which a 
 portion of a stone sarcophagus is to be seen to-day. The shattered 
 bulk of what was once an Abbey crowns a neighboring height. But
 
 IRELAND 
 
 271 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 MOST NEARLY PERFECT OF 
 ALL IRISH TOWERS 
 
 most conspicuous and notable among these archi- 
 tectural records of a religious past, the tall Round 
 Tower of the holy island lifts its still perfect cap 
 of accurately adjusted masonry and looks out 
 through its many loop-hole-like windows 
 upon the now abandoned scene of St. 
 Molaise's labors. Those windows, al- 
 though all high and narrow, are 
 variously shaped. One on the 
 second floor is nearly triangular; 
 one on the third floor, on the 
 other side, quadrangular; 
 the next above is square 
 headed; from the fifth or 
 topmost story four windows 
 open to the four points of the com- 
 pass for a lookout tower on an island must have eyes in all direc- 
 tions. Nowhere in Ire- 
 land did we feel nearer 
 to the strenuous old Vi- 
 king raiders or to the 
 equally strenuous mili- 
 tant monks of medieval 
 Ireland than as we stood 
 here on this abandoned 
 Isle of Oxen in Lough 
 Erne and gazed up at 
 that grim stone cylinder 
 that has stood a witness 
 to so many untold alarms 
 and struggles between the 
 Scandinavian Pagans of 
 the North and the Celtic 
 Catholics of Erin. 
 
 THE ROUND TOWER OF DEVENISH
 
 272 
 
 IRELAND 
 
 From the Round 
 Towers of those early 
 centuries we may turn 
 to the pointed 
 spires of the 
 new Cathedral 
 in the old re- 
 ligious capital 
 of Armagh. 
 The first 
 Cathedral 
 Church of 
 
 Armagh was founded by St. Patrick in the year 444 A. D. This new 
 cathedral was begun in 1840 and consecrated in the summer of 1904, 
 thus it was sixty-four years in building. The interior is now the 
 richest and most elaborate in Ireland. The pulpit and choir-screen 
 are masterpieces in chiseled marble, the walls are covered with 
 mosaics and the windows glazed with glorious stained glass. 

 
 IRELAND 
 
 273 
 
 But as it is in striking contrasts that the traveler finds one of the 
 keenest pleasures of his journey, we turn now from the comparatively 
 rich, industrious, and productive regions near the East Coast to the 
 poor and boggy regions of the undeveloped West of Ireland. 
 
 That the contrast may be as striking as possible we seek one of 
 
 n 
 
 THE NAVE OF THE NEWEST GREAT SANCTUARY OF IRELAND 
 
 the most remote and proverbially, poorest regions. We come to 
 Achill Island a bare, boggy and, in its way, beautiful island which 
 is separated from the mainland only by a narrow strait. 
 
 Peat cutting is apparently the only profitable occupation possible 
 in Achill. The peat costs the people nothing but the labor of slicing 
 it from the mass of the bog, stacking it up to dry and finally hauling 
 it home to the hearth in some poor hovel. Every tenant has the 
 right to cut peat somewhere on the master's lands. Large areas of 
 Achill Island have been completely altered in aspect by these cutting
 
 274 
 
 IRELAND 
 
 operations. Peat is a sort of soggy coal, a fuel formed of the rotting 
 vegetation of the dreary bog-land over which we drive for many 
 miles the road itself is a causeway of macadam laid upon the 
 springy bog. We can feel the highway sag and shiver as our light 
 jaunting car passes over it, and as we walk up hill behind the car we 
 see the tires press into that elastic roadbed as into a rough pavement 
 
 A HIGHWAY IN THE EAST 
 
 of soft rubber. This part of Ireland is indeed "a trembling sod " 
 
 where some peat beds have been found to be fifty feet in depth. 
 The turf when dried burns readily and emits that pungent odor 
 
 that clmgs to everything in rural Ireland. The odor of peat smoke 
 * most agreeable to the accustomed nostril and one whiff of it will 
 njure up a picture of an Irish peasant's cot with the inevitable 
 
 Pile of peat against the wall and the good wife before the door turn-
 
 IRELAND 
 
 275 
 
 A HIGHWAY IN THE WEST 
 
 ing the old-time Irish wheel, spinning crude yarn from the new wool 
 prepared by the old mother with her busy carding boards. We visit 
 all the various villages of Achill Island, driving from one to another 
 along the open winding roads, exchanging many a greeting with 
 the country folk who rarely fail to give that optimistic Irish greeting,
 
 276 
 
 IRELAND 
 
 "It's a foine day." Even though it be blowing great guns or rain- 
 ing cats and dogs, it's always a "foine day" with the Irish. Along 
 the way we met a countryman who looked like the real thing, 
 course he said "It's a foine day." "It is, it is," we answered in our 
 newly acquired reiterative brogue -I defy any one to travel along 
 Irish roads and talk with the people and not acquire a temporary 
 
 THE PEAT BOGS OF ACHILL 
 
 brogue; you feel peculiar and pedantic and unpleasantly superior if 
 you continue to speak in your usual way. 
 
 "Shure and it is a foine day, it is, it is," he replied. And then 
 he began to question us. "And what may be your country?" This 
 made us feel that our brogue was not thick enough to disguise us. 
 "America is it?" he murmured, "America?" and then, with a 
 kindly, patronizing smile, "And how is it a-gettin' on?" His tone
 
 IRELAND 
 
 277 
 
 made us feel that America was about as big as Achill Island and 
 about twice as poor. 
 
 On one of those wild "foine days" that are characteristic of 
 
 Achill 's stormy clime we made 
 our way on horseback to 
 the far seaward tip of 
 the island, along 
 the trails beyond 
 \ the region of 
 real roads. We 
 looked down 
 upon mysterious 
 little beaches, 
 sheltered from the 
 Atlantic gales by the 
 broad arms of Achill's 
 stony mountains. We climbed 
 to dizzy ridges that overhung the raging 
 sea and peered down through the flying mist at scenes, the like of 
 
 Han 
 
 CUTTING PEAT 
 
 ON THE ISLE 
 OF ACHILL
 
 278 
 
 IRELAND 
 
 THE PEAT PILE AND THE SPINNING WHEEL 
 
 which no camera could register; we watched day after day the 
 angry clouds that clung and circled like a dark menace round the 
 summit of Slievemore, that heather-covered hill that lifts its head 
 two thousand two hundred feet above the hamlet of Dugort, where 
 
 we lodged and to which we returned 
 each night after our days of 
 most delightful wandering 
 across or round about this 
 Achill Island, which seemed 
 to grow each day more 
 interesting and more 
 wildly beautiful. We 
 lodged in comfort at 
 a little inn called the 
 "Sea View Hotel." 
 We noted that 
 in every vil- 
 
 CHURCHWARD
 
 IRELAND 
 
 279 
 
 lage near the sea the one and only inn was always called the 
 "Sea View Hotel." If there were a second inn, it was sure to 
 be "The Mountain View Hotel." At Dugort there were three 
 inns. We dropped in one day at the third inn simply to find 
 out what its name might be. The name was and why not, for 
 it looked both ways? "The Sea and Mountain View Hotel." 
 
 There were only two other guests there in our Sea View Hotel, and 
 every day there came and went two or three strangers, tour- 
 
 SEA VIEW HOTEL 
 
 ists off the beaten track, who never would stay long enough 
 to let the charm of Achill get on them the solid hold it had on us 
 "old settlers." 
 
 With Jack McNally, our good landlord's son, we made long tours 
 each day in Jack's new jaunting car. He took us to the distant vil- 
 lages and introduced us to all his friends his friends comprising 
 practically the entire population. At his request we photographed
 
 280 
 
 IRELAND 
 
 them in family groups and promised to send them copies of the pic- 
 tures? for them to send to their relatives over in America. For all 
 had relatives either in Cleveland or Chicago. One matron, Mrs. 
 
 'GRINDING MEAt
 
 IRELAND 
 
 281 
 
 PatMalloyofKeel, 
 was very anxious 
 that a picture of 
 her kiddies in our 
 car should be seen 
 by their emigrated 
 uncle, who lived in 
 Chicago. A ticket 
 a free pass "good 
 for two best seats" 
 was dispatched 
 to his address. 
 When these scenes 
 were first projected 
 at the Auditorium, 
 "Uncle Dennis" 
 was among those 
 present, seeing for the first time his brother's sturdy Achill babies. 
 Our jarvey, Jack, was also on good terms with the Constabulary, 
 and the squad of Irish constables at Keel turned out in Sunday- 
 
 THE PATRICK MALLOYS OF KEEL 
 
 THE KEEL CONSTABULARY
 
 282 
 
 IRELAND 
 
 go-to-meeting uniforms to face the fire of our cameras. Farther on 
 in the village of Dooagh we met two dear old irresponsibles two 
 broken-spirited old men, who had become one through a mental, 
 the other through a physical infirmity public charges on the vil- 
 lage. "I'm ashamed to tell ye," 
 said the one with a beard, 
 "that I had a chance once. 
 I was in New York 
 once and I could 
 have married a con- 
 thractor's daughter 
 and like a dam 
 fool I come back 
 
 here." The other 
 sad faced individ- 
 ual was a little 
 out of his 
 head. He 
 
 LIKEABLE LADS
 
 IRELAND 
 
 283 
 
 A FISHERMAN S HOME 
 
 said nothing, he merely lifted up his voice to join his fellow in 
 misfortune in a sad old Irish song, the refrain of which was "There's 
 bound to be a row there's bound to be a row." 
 
 Other old men we 
 saw of sturdier frame 
 and mind able to 
 work and working lust- 
 ily; one, a farmer, as- 
 sured us that he had 
 relatives in Cleveland 
 and Chicago, and cher- 
 ished many a regret 
 that he had never fol- 
 lowed them. And in 
 that village of Dooagh 
 we found the 
 oldest man 
 
 TWO OLD BOYS 
 OF DOOAGH
 
 284 
 
 IRELAND 
 
 NEATNESS AND POVERTY 
 
 in Achill, ninety-four years of age, hale 
 eager to show us that he could dance an 
 
 OF STURDY STOCK 
 
 and hearty and only too 
 Irish jig as well, if not a 
 trifle better than his 
 seventy-seven-year -old 
 partner. And so they 
 called the village fiddler 
 forth, cleared the main 
 street, and the two 
 oldest inhabitants pro- 
 ceeded to trip a merry 
 measure. 
 
 The poorest of the 
 villages is on the south 
 side of the island, and 
 there we did find abject 
 misery. The effects of 
 the sad years of the 
 old famine days were
 
 IRELAND 
 
 285 
 
 still visible. Dooega 
 was what many an 
 Irish village was at one 
 time permitted to be- 
 come a reproach to 
 civilization, a shameful 
 proof of blundering 
 misrule. There we 
 were bothered by beg- 
 gars; nearly every soul 
 in town demanding 
 alms, and all seemed in 
 sore need of every mis- 
 erable penny that we 
 gave. Yet native Irish 
 wit had not been dulled 
 by years of half -star- 
 vation, for when I gave a big bright penny to a baby in its mother's 
 arms, the woman said, with fine assumption of aristocratic scorn, 
 
 ONE WHO STAVED AT HOME 
 
 "MOVED TO CLEVELAND. OHIO"
 
 286 
 
 IRELAND 
 
 "Choild, luk at the penny the 
 foine gintleman is after givin' 
 ye" the contemptuous 
 emphasis she put upon 
 the "penny" almost 
 shaming a shilling 
 out of me. 
 
 In another vil- 
 lage we saw a 
 face that seemed 
 to be the mirror of 
 COLLEENS all the woes of Ireland 
 
 the features drawn with suffering, the eyes run dry of tears, 
 which in some way had got into the woman's voice for as she 
 sang she made us see a lifetime all of tears a girlhood of the
 
 IRELAND 
 
 287 
 
 OF THE VILLAGE 
 
 bitterest poverty, a wifehood of starvation and a motherhood of 
 agony; at the woman's breast beneath the shawl there was an 
 ailing child. What could we do but give her money; not in charity, 
 but in apologetic cowardice, because we had full stomachs, and 
 
 because we knew that if we and 
 our boasted "intelligent 
 class" did our full, hon- 
 est duty to ourselves 
 |& and to the world, 
 |\ this sort of mis- 
 ery, born and 
 bred of igno- 
 rance and of in- 
 justice, would 
 never rise to 
 shame us as it does. 
 When we remarked 
 upon the fact that we 
 
 EXCLUSIVENESS
 
 IRELAND 
 
 year in harvest season. 
 
 met chiefly old women and young 
 children, we were told that 
 ft. all the sturdy young folk 
 ||V were away in Scotland, 
 harvesting the crops of 
 Scottish farmers, do- 
 ing in Scotland bet- 
 ter work than the 
 Scotch labor- 
 ers can do. 
 Achill Is- 
 land, with a 
 population of 
 four thousand, 
 sends an industrious army, 
 including one ship-load of six 
 hundred girls, to Scotland every 
 They and their brothers bring 
 
 IRISH INDUSTRY
 
 IRELAND 
 
 289 
 
 back the hard earned money that keeps the children and the old 
 folks in food and fuel during the long hard winter. Nevertheless 
 the population is decreasing, and every year sees more and more 
 
 of the old 
 cottages de- 
 serted. 
 
 They tell 
 us that the 
 former 
 
 MARKET DAY 
 
 of one 
 abandon- 
 ed cot- 
 tage is 
 now a 
 prosper- 
 ous shoe- 
 maker in 
 
 Cleveland, Ohio, U. S. A., sending back money to his relatives in 
 Achill. Nor is this sort of thing confined to Achill it is true all 
 over Ireland. In 1850 there were eight million Irishmen in Ireland, 
 to-day there 
 are about four 
 million left, the 
 rest are mak- 
 ing shoes in 
 Cleveland, or 
 bossing the traf- 
 fic in New 
 York, to say 
 nothing of the 
 more impor- 
 tant matters 
 
 THE HII.LSIDH 
 HERMIT
 
 IRELAND 
 
 290 
 
 bossed by the Irish in all the greater cities of "the land of the free 
 and the home of the brave." 
 
 From Achill we make our way southward and westward into the 
 
 land of Con- 
 scenic wonder- 
 
 Our Con- 
 
 KYLEMORE CASTLE 
 
 nemara tour merits a travelogue all for itself, for the interior of 
 Connemara is an Irish Switzerland, and the coast region of Con- 
 nemara is an Irish Norway. We found in Connemara perfect roads, 
 impressive mountains, alpine lakes, trout streams, and waterfalls 
 and, most important from the tourist's point of view, a chain of 
 excellent hotels. We saw what savage Nature had done to help 
 us realize our dreams of scenic grandeur, and in the midst of 
 this wild country we came upon a place where gentle Art had set 
 a fairy castle in a frame of beauty, as if to prove that dreams of
 
 IRELAND 
 
 291 
 
 PURCHASED BY THE DUKE OF MANCHESTER 
 
 a real paradise on earth sometimes come true. That paradise is 
 Kylemore Castle, now the Irish country-seat of the Duke of 
 Manchester one of the most exquisite examples of castle archi- 
 tecture in the world, ideally situated on the slope of a grim green 
 Connemara mountain, overlooking the lovely little lake that mir- 
 rors the surrounding heights.
 
 IRELAND 
 
 THE TREATY STONE 
 
 Of course we did not 
 fail to visit Limerick on the 
 Shannon River. Limerick merits 
 more time and more pictures than 
 we can give to it, and so in fact does every town that we have
 
 IRELAND 
 
 293 
 
 IN LIMERICK TOWN 
 
 touched ; but there are so many sights to see in Ireland that we may 
 not always tarry where we would. 
 
 Among the holy sites in Ireland none is dearer to the pious pa- 
 triot than the great Rock of Cashel in County Tipperary. A holy place 
 it has been for a thousand years and more, in spite of the tradition
 
 294 
 
 IRELAND 
 
 THE ROCK OF CASHEL 
 
 concerning the infernal origin of the rock itself. Ask any old-time 
 Tipperary man how it came there, and he will tell you how long years 
 ago the devil took a big bite ou 
 the crest of a neighboring ran 
 of mountains, and how finding the 
 mouthful very dry and tough 
 he spat it out upon the floor 
 of Ireland's fairest valley. 1 
 In proof of this they show 
 you this isolated Rock of 
 Cashel, and a great gap in 
 the skyline of a mountain 
 several miles away. The 
 buildings on the rock are in 
 many ways remarkable. 
 There is a beautiful cathedral, 
 beautifully ruined, a castle ad- 
 mirably fallen to decay and 
 
 IN THE VALE OF TIPPERARY
 
 IRELAND 
 
 295 
 
 little Norman church, known as King Cormac's Chapel. There is, of 
 course, an Irish tower, round as a rod and wonderfully well preserved, 
 and there are Irish crosses, one so old and worn that it is nearly 
 formless; and there is also a modern copy of an ancient cross that shows 
 us what those splendid monuments were like before the tooth of time 
 
 NOT A LONG WAY TO TIPPERARY 
 
 had gnawed into their quaintly cut designs. And round about there 
 is a view unrivaled in its verdant richness, for from this height we 
 look out on the Golden Vale of Tipperary, as sweet a vale as green 
 grass ever grew in. In this rich valley lies the celebrated "Golden 
 Vein" of Irish soil the richest and most fertile in all Ireland. 
 Across this vale we drive northward a few miles to Holy Cross where 
 stands the finest ruined abbey in all Ireland. Tis hard to say who 
 was the greater artist, the architect who builded Holy Cross, or Father 
 Time who has so artistically pulled it down and flung about its crumb- 
 ling walls and tower a mantle of royal Irish green. Its abbots used
 
 2Q6 
 
 IRELAND 
 
 to sit as peers in Irish Parliament, its wealth was boundless and its 
 sanctity of world-wide fame, for here at Holy Cross there was pre- 
 served a piece of the True Holy Cross presented by Pope Pascal the 
 Second, 800 years ago. That precious bit of wood has long since 
 disappeared, but the minutely groined roof of the little chapel, where 
 
 THE ABBEY OF HOLY CROSS 
 
 the relic was preserved and reverenced for centuries, still remains to 
 delight those who appreciate an exquisite example of old-time ecclesi- 
 astic art. 
 
 But for the terse telling of our tale we linger too long here. We 
 must press on, we have a train to catch and such a train ! ! the 
 queerest, most absurd, most utterly outlandish train that we have 
 ever seen. Its name, too, is appropriately outlandish; it is the 
 "Ballybunnion Mono-Rail Express." It runs from a station on the 
 ordinary line to Ballybunnion, about ten miles away on the Atlantic 
 Coast. It runs upon a single elevated rail, a mono-rail, astride of 
 which a double locomotive, or rather one shaped like a pair of bloomers,
 
 IRELAND 
 
 297 
 
 CHAPEL OF THE TRUE CROSS 
 
 hauls a train of cars that likewise ride the mono-rail on wheels which 
 are concealed in the long slot with which the Ballybunnion Limited 
 is slit from stem to stern. To enable passengers to cross over to the 
 
 THE BRIDGE OF LISDOONVARNA
 
 298 
 
 IRELAND 
 
 AN IRISH EXPRESS 
 
 compartments on the other side, there is one car that is nothing but 
 
 a sort of stile like those by means of which one gets over fences in the 
 
 country. The 
 
 track itself is like 
 
 a metal fence, ten 
 
 miles in length. 
 
 The line is spanned 
 
 by bridges with a 
 
 double draw that 
 
 can be let down 
 
 by the peasants 
 
 when they wish to 
 
 drive their carts or 
 
 cows across. 
 
 The speed of this 
 peculiar railway, 
 although not sur- 
 passing seven miles 
 an hour, neverthe- 
 less exceeds that of 
 the only competing 
 
 AT A STATION
 
 IRELAND 
 
 299 
 
 conveyances in the form of tiny two-wheeled carts drawn by 
 donkeys, driven by dignified old dames. 
 
 We ask the meaning of the prefix " Bally," which occurs so often 
 in the names of towns and places. They tell us that "Bally" means 
 simply a piece of building land, to distinguish any bit of solid ground 
 
 THE BALLYBUNNION LIMITED 
 
 from the surrounding bog. 
 We find on looking at 
 the index of our 
 guide book the 
 following 
 "Bally"places: 
 Ballybay, 
 Ballybeg, Bal- 
 lybofey, Bally- 
 bogan, Ballyde- 
 hob, Ballygalley, 
 Ballygawley, Bally- 
 
 A BRIDGE OVER THE MONO-RAIL LINE
 
 300 
 
 IRELAND 
 
 THE DOUBLE CARS AND THE STILE 
 
 hack, Ballyhaise, Ballyhaunis, Ballyholme, Ballyhooley, Ballymoney, 
 Ballymoon, Ballymurry, Ballyragget, Ballyroney, Ballyvoy, and so 
 on for three columns, including that most fascinating of all the 
 Bally combinations, Ballycorus! 
 
 Another day we find ourselves upon the very Occidental edge of 
 Ireland, peering down upon the deep Atlantic from the summit of 
 the colossal wall formed by the Cliffs of Moher. Precipices rise a 
 sheer six hundred feet from water-line to sky-line, harboring millions 
 
 THE TURNTABLE
 
 IRELAND 
 
 of sea birds, whose 
 rasping cries drown 
 the dull surging of 
 the waves and lend 
 a most uncanny aw- 
 fulness to these dead 
 walls. There on the 
 summit of the cliff 
 we see what seems 
 an old baronial 
 castle and we won- 
 der what rich and 
 happy noble dwells 
 on this noble height 
 and looks out 
 every day upon 
 this noble view. ' 
 With envious 
 steps we make our 
 way along the brink 
 
 toward that superb- 
 ly perched chateau, 
 hoping perchance 
 to find the lord 
 and lady of 
 the manor 
 on the ter- 
 race sur- 
 veying this 
 glorious 
 estate of earth 
 
 COMPETING CONVEYANCES
 
 302 
 
 IRELAND 
 
 and sea and sky. But we found upon the threshold not just the 
 sort of group that we had pictured! A small herd of cows was 
 placidly ruminating there. Sadly we turned away from the old 
 O'Brian Tower, now become the "Castle of the Cows," for we were 
 sad to think that men would let these beauty-blind and unappreci- 
 
 THE CLIFFS OF MOHER
 
 IRELAND 
 
 303 
 
 THE WIDE ATLANT 
 
 ative brutes usurp for their dull, uninspired uses, so glorious a 
 site one fit for the castle of an artist or a king. 
 
 Cliff after cliff receding in the gathering haze lead our eyes and 
 thoughts southward toward a still more fit abode for those who 
 
 THE CASTI.E OF THE COWS
 
 IRELAND 
 
 34 
 
 worship beauty as expressed in scenic form - toward that region 
 of ideal natural loveliness whither our steps instinctively have long 
 been trending and to which they soon will bring us, for it is time f 
 us to look upon Killarney- "Heaven's Reflex, Beauty's Home.' 
 Every lover of the beautiful longs to find himself upon the road 
 that leads to Killarney, and we rejoice at sight of the guide post which 
 informs us that we are within three and a half miles of that famous 
 
 place. The name, in 
 the old Gaelic tongue, 
 Cill-Arneadh, means 
 "the Church of the 
 Sloes," and the sloes of 
 course are the famous 
 blackthorn bushes that 
 grow and flower nearly 
 everywhere in Ireland. 
 So toward Killarnev 
 town we hasten on, 
 turning aside soon from 
 the dusty public road 
 to follow the perfect 
 private pathways that 
 lead across the rich de- 
 mesne of the Earl of 
 Kenmare, who owns 
 one of the loveliest of 
 the huge estates that 
 border upon and practically encircle the famous lakes that we have 
 come to see. We learn to our surprise that the shores of Killarney 
 are practically all private property, and that tourists are compelled 
 to pay an admission fee before they can enter the grounds of these 
 magnificent estates and look upon the lakes from the most advan- 
 tageous points of view. As we enter the park of the Earl of Ken- 
 mare a very pretty girl comes forth from a very pretty house and 
 
 NAMES WE KNOW
 
 IRELAND 
 
 305 
 
 HEAVEN S REFLEX 
 
 very prettily demands two pretty little sixpences. We part with 
 them willingly with her regretfully. The little lodge within which 
 she promptly disappears is one of the neatest, sweetest little dwell- 
 ings we have ever seen. It is supposed to be merely a peasant 
 cottage, but, were all cottages like this, "love in a cottage" would 
 
 GOINU TO KIU.ARNEY
 
 306 
 
 IRELAND 
 
 take on a long new lease of life. Thus ere we have been five 
 minutes within the gates of this ideal estate we have had a 
 royal shillings-worth of beauty, and after we have passed through 
 the well-groomed region near the modern castle of the Earl, 
 which we are not permitted to approach, we enter a wilder and even 
 more beautiful region where we drive on as through a forest. The 
 
 LODGEKEEPER'S COTTAGE AT THE GATES OF THE EARL o 
 
 P KENMARE 
 
 roadway is over-arched by noble trees, tall, pale, and ghostly trees, 
 suggesting a company of arboreal greybeards assembled as in some 
 great ancestral council to discuss the future of their race, to make 
 laws for the welfare of the younger trees, whose task it will be to keep 
 Ireland young and green; for without trees a land grows quickly old 
 oses its beauty, and its charm -born of youthful freshness - 
 shows its wrinkles, withers, wearies, and becomes a wilderness 
 
 But no such fate will come to Ireland in our time. She seems a
 
 IRELAND 
 
 307 
 
 land blessed with perennial youth, and everlasting youth means ever- 
 lasting beauty. Even the scarred old ruins of Ross Castle are re- 
 juvenated at the verdant touch of Irish nature. The blood of spring, 
 and the hot blood of young summer, seems to fill the stony veins of 
 Ireland's ancient masonry, causing her castles to put forth leaves, to 
 burst into a verdurous life, to blossom like an emerald-petalled rose. 
 Ross Castle that looks out upon Killarney, is not dead, it lives and 
 
 blossoms every year, 
 like Ireland's hopes and 
 i I Ireland's aspirations. 
 
 We enter presently 
 another pretty lake- 
 side park one that 
 for the time being is 
 our own, for it belongs 
 to the Lake Hotel 
 and the hotel of course 
 belongs to us, so long 
 as we continue to pay 
 our weekly bills. On 
 arrival we encounter 
 our first thoroughbred 
 Irish "bull." Not find- 
 ing an expected letter, 
 I ask the Irish porter 
 when the next mail 
 will be in. "It's in, 
 sir!" says the porter. 
 
 Much of the charm 
 of a lake vista depends 
 on an effective fore- 
 ground, and in this 
 respect the vista of 
 Lough Leane, from the 
 
 GRAND OLD TREES
 
 3 o8 
 
 IRELAND 
 
 threshold of the Lake Hotel is undeniably supreme. In the foreground 
 lies a tiny island, upon it a low remnant of ruined castle and two trees 
 that are as artistic in outline as the picturesque trees of old Japan. 
 A narrow causeway leads out to that island, Killarney's waters beat 
 
 THE LAKE HOTEL
 
 IRELAND 
 
 309 
 
 against it softly, Killarney's mountains, crowned with purple heather, 
 rise beyond it, Killarney's sky domes it with glory and we echo 
 once again the words of that sweet song in which the poet character- 
 izes Killarney as "Heaven's Reflex, 
 Beauty's Home." 
 
 Now that we see 
 the beauty of this 
 region we know 
 why Killarney, of 
 all the lovely sites 
 in Ireland, is the 
 best beloved - 
 why tourists come 
 Wr by thousands every 
 year to gaze upon this 
 lake and carry with them 
 when they go away a precious 
 memory of alluring scenic charm 
 that will give them joy so long as they shall live. 
 
 ALMOST JAPANESE It 
 
 LOUGH LKANE
 
 3 io 
 
 IRELAND 
 
 In contrast to the soft loveliness of the Killarney shores is the 
 almost Norwegian grandeur and grimness of the Gap of Dunloe. In 
 it lies a lifeless lake, the very lake in which St. Patrick drowned the 
 
 BEAUTY S HOME 
 
 last of all the snakes. The Gap of Dunloe is a place of singular bar- 
 renness, bounded by granite walls of Purple Mountain on one side, 
 and on the other by the highest range of peaks in Ireland, bearing a 
 most unpoetic name, "McGillicuddy's Reeks." The extreme alti- 
 tude attained is only a trifle over thirty-four hundred feet. Our 
 path winds up out of this gloomy gap of grey, crosses a wind-swept 
 pass and then winds down into a pretty paradise of green where we 
 come again under the magic spell of the beauty of Killarney. But 
 this beauty of grassy slope and silvery lake, pellucid sky and the soft 
 inviting outlines of all things, is a sort of beauty that lends itself but 
 ill to photographic reproduction. Killarney's beauty must be felt, 
 and to feel it one must come down from the heights and touch one
 
 IRELAND 311 
 
 by one, with the finger of actual experience, Killarney's manifold per- 
 fections, each one of which is capable of giving us a thrill of purest 
 pleasure. One of these thrills of pleasure comes to us as we look for 
 the first time upon the "Meeting of the Waters," where the overflow 
 of the island-dotted upper lake comes swirling under the old Weir 
 Bridge and down a narrow channel banked with verdure and brim- 
 
 ming with the exuberance of the rainstorm that has come and gone 
 as quickly as if the gust of water had been instead a gust of wind. 
 On that brimming tide the tourist-laden boats come gliding from 
 the upper lake, and guided by the boatman in the bow they slip 
 beneath the old Weir Bridge, plunge through the short safe rapids 
 and then are borne along, as through a forest, to the Meeting of the 
 Waters, where the thrilled and happy strangers step ashore.
 
 3 I2 
 
 IRELAND 
 
 Killarneyis not a region for the traveler to hurry through; it is 
 a place for leisurely sojourn, for a long idle holiday, composed of days 
 filled with no sterner duty than the call to see the sunset, or to con- 
 template the moonlight on the lake. If only we had time for all we 
 want to do, we could afford to do industriously that most delightful 
 of all things, nothing - nothing but wander as we list through some 
 
 THE OLD WEIR BRIDGE 
 
 such earthly paradise as that through which we must now pass 
 hurriedly in driving from Killarney to Glengariff. 
 
 Of Glengariff it must suffice to say that it is one of the most 
 exquisite spots in Ireland. To tell in worthy words of the beauty- 
 spots of Ireland one needs must have a tongue of silver and a poet's 
 soul or at least one should have reverently performed that elo- 
 quence-inspiring ceremony the kissing of the Blarney Stone. It 
 is perhaps too late for me to call that famous stone to my assistance,
 
 IRELAND 
 
 but even so, no tour in Ireland can be called complete if it does not 
 include a visit to the ruined tower that bears the name of Blarney 
 Castle and is reached so easily by jaunting car from Cork. 
 
 BETWEEN THE PURPLE MOUNTAIN AND M GILUCUDDY S REEKS
 
 IRELAND 
 
 The actual location 
 of the Blarney Stone 
 had always been to us 
 a mystery. No photo- 
 graphs have ever given 
 us a correct impression 
 as to the exact position 
 of that gift -of -gab- 
 giving slab of stone. 
 The only way to see it 
 clearly is to stand near 
 the base of the tower 
 and look up. The 
 Blarney Stone forms the 
 bottom edge of the pro- 
 jecting parapet. It is marked by two bands of rusty metal, two rods 
 which the would-be oscillators used to grip with both hands to steady 
 themselves as they were lowered by the heels over the top stone of the 
 
 SELLING MOUNTAIN DEW 
 
 IN THE GAP OF DUNI.OE
 
 IRELAND 
 
 GLENGARIFF 
 
 parapet. This very risky practice has been discontinued. The 
 kissers of to-day must be content to be let .down through the opening 
 between the parapet and the main wall, their faces outward, so that 
 
 AN IRISH BEAUTY SPOT
 
 3 i6 
 
 IRELAND 
 
 the lips touch only the inner angle of the stone. Yet even this is 
 very dangerous; one careless osculator let go and was let go of, but 
 in some miraculous way he lit lightly among the heavy branches of 
 the trees which broke his fearful fall, and reached the ground with 
 his bones unbroken and his kiss unkissed. 
 
 From the ramparts of old Blarney Castle we look down on modern 
 
 BLARNEY CASTLE 
 
 Blarney Castle and off at the green hills of County Cork. Mean- 
 time our fellow-tourists one by one lie flat upon their backs on the 
 pavement, take hold of two metal rods, on the inner side of the para- 
 pet, and then with their heels and legs held firmly by their friends, 
 they let their hands glide down the rods until their lips are on a level 
 with the surface of the stone that has been exquisitely polished by 
 the pressure of the many lips that have sought here the gift of elo- 
 quence. 'Tis strange indeed that men will go to all this risk and
 
 IRELAND 
 
 ATOP THE TOWER 
 
 trouble merely to press their lips to unresponsive stone. And yet 
 we know that when it comes to kissing, there is no risk, however great, 
 that man (especially an Irish-man) will not most willingly incur. 
 
 Once as a would-be kisser was seen to hesitate, an Irishman in- 
 quired, "Are you afraid?" "I am." "Well no man that's afeared 
 ought to go a'kissing. All kissing should be done sudden; when you 
 hesitate it's serious! Make way for the young lady, she's not afraid!" 
 
 No man knows from what day or incident dates the curious tradition 
 
 LOOKING UP AT THE BLARNEY STONE
 
 8 IRELAND 
 
 that attributes to the "real stone" the power of "endowing whoever 
 kisses it with the sweet persuasive, wheedling eloquence so perceptible 
 in the language of the Cork people and which is generally termed 
 'Blarney.' This is the true meaning of the word, and not, as some 
 writers have supposed, a faculty of deviating from veracity with an 
 unblushing countenance whenever it may be convenient." The poets 
 . .^__^_____ 
 
 READY TO KISS THE BLARNEY STONE 
 
 are not quite so sure that the "deluderin talk" of the inspired oscula- 
 tors is absolutely free from guile; these well-known lines suggest 
 
 otherwise : 
 
 "There is a stone there that whoever kisses, 
 Oh! he never misses to grow eloquent. 
 Tis he may clamber to a lady's chamber 
 Or become Member of Parliament. 
 A clever spouter he'll sure turn out. or 
 An out and outer to be let alone ! 
 Don't hope to hinder him or to bewilder him 
 Sure he's a pilgrim from the Blarney Stone." 
 
 Queen Elizabeth has been credited with the earliest use of the 
 word Blarney in its now recognized sense. She had summoned to
 
 IRELAND 
 
 court the famous Cormac, builder of Blar- 
 ney Castle and scion of the -princely 
 race of the McCarthys, Lords of Mus- 
 kerry, Barons of Blarney and Earls of 
 Clancarty, that she might force him 
 to relinquish certain privileges. He 
 promised with fair words to come - 
 and came not. With more fair words 
 he continued to fail to come to London 
 or to the point; whereupon the 
 Virgin Queen declared : "This is 
 all Blarney what he says he 
 never means." 
 
 From Blarney Castle we 
 drive back to the neighbor- 
 ing city of Cork, the metrop- 
 olis of the South. We are 
 agreeably impressed by the 
 
 noble buildings, the 
 artistic churches, 
 the broad and well- 
 paved streets, the 
 excellent hotel, and, 
 finer than all else, the 
 lovely views of Cork 
 from the surrounding 
 heights. 
 
 The Irish name 
 Corrach or Corcagh 
 means "swamp" and 
 
 KISSING THE BLARNEY STONE
 
 320 
 
 IRELAND 
 
 we read with interest this word picture of the place and its people 
 
 as they were in 1577: 
 
 "On the land side they are encumbered with evil neighbors the Irish out- 
 laws, that they are fain to watch their gates hourlie, to keep them shut at service 
 time, and at meals, from sun to sun, nor suffer anie stranger to enter the citie with 
 his weapon, but the same to leave at a lodge appointed. They walk out at seasons 
 for recreation with power of men furnished. They trust not the country adjoin 
 ing, but match in wedlocke among themselves onlie, so that the whole citie is 
 well nigh linked one to the other in affinitie." 
 
 THE RIVER LEE IN CORK 
 
 And it is in Cork that we hear those bells of which Father Prout 
 has sung 
 
 "With deep affection and recollection 
 
 I often think on those Shandon bells, 
 Whose sound so wild would in the days of childhood 
 Hmg round my cradle their magic spells. 
 On this I ponder where'er I wander 
 
 ^ nd thus grow fonder Sweet Cork of thee 
 With thy bells of Shandon that sound so grand on 
 
 I he pleasant waters of the river Lee."
 
 IRELAND 
 
 321 
 
 With their music in our ears it is with a 
 shock that we come upon this prosaic entry 
 in the old Council Book of the Corpora- 
 tion of Cork under the date of May 
 
 1 8, 1749 
 
 That 100 guineas be paid Mr. Fran. 
 Carleton and Mr. Riggs Falkener towards 
 a ring of bells to be put up in the Steple 
 of St. Ann's Church, in the Parish of S. 
 Mary Shandon, in Corke, to be paid in three 
 months from the date hereof. 
 
 Even more beautiful than that of 
 Cork is the situation of Queenstown, 
 the neighboring port. 
 
 But it is not to enjoy the glorious 
 vistas of this harbor, that post-war trav- 
 elers come to Queenstown; rather is it to 
 look with tear-dimmed, outraged eyes at the 
 graves of the men and women and children, "foully murdered by 
 Germany" as the tombstones tell us murdered in cold blood 
 sent to a sudden terrible death in the deep by the pirate craft that 
 
 QUEENSTOWN
 
 3 22 
 
 IRELAND 
 
 flew the flags of von Tirpitz and William the Second -and the 
 Last. The cowardly torpedo which destroyed the Lusitania also 
 destroyed the empire of the Hohenzollerns. 
 
 From Queenstown and the sunny South of Ireland we make our 
 way to Belfast and the grim rocky north coast of the Emerald Isle. 
 Belfast, the great industrial city of the North, boasts a population 
 
 ROYAL AVENUE, BELFAST 
 
 as large if not larger than that of Dublin if we add to the urban 
 population of each city, that of the suburbs and environs. In com- 
 mercial importance Belfast is the first of Irish cities. The city of 
 "the loom, the linen and the liner" has given to the world the finest of 
 flax products and the fastest floating palaces of the trans-Atlantic 
 fleets. It has not the antiquity of Dublin. It is a strictly modern 
 city. At the beginning of the nineteenth century it was a mere 
 town. To-day it is a city of four hundred thousand. The mag-
 
 IRELAND 
 
 323 
 
 nificent new City Hall, occupying the site of the old Linen Hall, in 
 Donegall Square, was completed only in 1906. Before the entrance 
 is a statue of Queen Victoria and surrounding it on three sides is a 
 garden that adds much to its dignity. Seen from the Royal Avenue, 
 its great copper dome towering above the city streets and the massive 
 
 THE CITY HALL
 
 324 
 
 IRELAND 
 
 ALONG THE DOCKS 
 
 YORK STREET LINEN MILL
 
 IRELAND 
 
 325 
 
 bulk of the building effectually blocking the end of Donegall Place, 
 the City Hall strikes the 
 
 THE CITY H 
 
 dominant note in the architectural aspect 
 of Belfast and presents the picture 
 most clearly remembered by the 
 traveler. But to the traveler, un- 
 less he chances to be a practically 
 minded business man, Belfast is to 
 Dublin what Glasgow in Scotland 
 is to Edinburgh the rival city 
 that offers comparatively little to 
 detain him. 
 
 It is interesting to recall that 
 the name "Belfast," derived from 
 the old Gaelic words "Beal na far- 
 sad," means "Mouth of the Ford." 
 
 Beyond Belfast begins a wonder- 
 land of scenic charm that lures 
 
 THE ALBKRT MEMORIAL
 
 326 
 
 IRELAND 
 
 the lover of the glory of the out-of-doors northward along the 
 Antrim Coast. We "did" this wonderland not by motor, but by 
 jaunting car -as it should be done. For three days we jaunted 
 slowly along a road that ran between the Irish mountains and the 
 waters of the channel beyond which may be seen from time to time 
 the shores of Scotland. 
 
 Marvellous things amaze and charm the traveler at every turn. 
 
 THE ANTRIM COAST 
 
 He peers through windows worn in the chalky walls or tall pointed 
 arches cut in the red sandstone cliffs and framing vistas of a gentle 
 summer sea. A mere list of all the things worth looking at along the 
 way would more than fill our pages, therefore we may not even 
 specify the many promontories, bays and beaches, mountains, glens, 
 and valleys, castles, villages, and towers that diversify our days. Nor 
 may we dwell upon the dreary stretches of almost Siberian monotony
 
 IRELAND 
 
 327 
 
 that by their very 
 contrast add even 
 more diversity to 
 the catalogue of 
 most enjoyable ex- 
 periences. Even 
 the boggy wilder- 
 ness is for a time 
 enjoyable and we 
 know that every 
 mile of bog-land 
 that we cover 
 brings us nearer to the interesting sights that lie 
 beyond nearer to the glorious seacoast from which our road has 
 turned aside to cut across the broad neck of some peninsula. 
 
 To get the best of scenic Ireland the traveler should cling as closely 
 as he can to the magnificent seacoast. Thus he will see in turn, each 
 
 BOH of those glorious headlands 
 those natural bastions, thrown 
 out as if to check the fury of 
 ' the waves, but in reality 
 
 A WINDOW LOOKINO SEAWARD 
 
 THE ROAD FLOWS ON
 
 3*8 
 
 IRELAND 
 
 created by the waves. The many superb headlands are merely 
 what is left of low softly rounded hills of which the greater part has 
 been eaten away by the insatiable ocean. Literally, the sea is grad- 
 ually consuming Ireland, eagerly eating up this most delicious morsel 
 of the crust of earth. We can see where the teeth of the sea have 
 bitten out gigantic mouthfuls of the coast, leaving the tougher and 
 more resisting corners to be slowly nibbled at from time to time. 
 Of these resisting sections of the shore the most marvellous and 
 
 THE GIANT S CAUSEWAY 
 
 the most impressive is the Giant's Causeway on the northern coast. 
 Our first impression is that the Causeway has been overpraised, for 
 the approach promises very little, and when in answer to our question 
 "where ? the Causeway?" some one replies: "That's it, right there! 
 the low flat rocky point extending seaward from that little house!" 
 we are tempted to turn back and to proclaim the Giant's Causeway 
 a gigantic fraud. Thackeray himself exclaimed when he first beheld 
 it: "Good God, have I come a hundred and fifty miles to see that/!"
 
 IRELAND 
 
 329 
 
 But when from the top of the tall cliff we look directly down upon 
 it we begin to appreciate it and to understand why this strange tongue 
 of land is called a causeway. It appears like a portion of a path or 
 road extending seaward a path of which the greater part is now 
 submerged, the other end of which comes to the surface off the coast 
 of Scotland eighty miles away, at Fingal's Cave upon the Island of 
 Staffa! It is paved with a peculiar pavement .a mosaic of basaltic 
 blocks, and had we time to count those that are visible they w r ould 
 
 ON THE NORTH COAST 
 
 be found to number forty thousand, plus those in various museums. 
 The pavement as we look down from the cliff appears smooth and 
 level ; it is neither. So uneven is the surface that should one stumble 
 while scrambling over it one might tumble many feet. This pave- 
 ment is like a floor of crude thick tiles each one being the upper- 
 most of a series of superimposed drums forming a tall column. These 
 deep-set columns have been found similar in form and composition, 
 each one composed of those neatly superimposed blocks, each block
 
 33 
 
 IRELAND 
 
 with a concave top or bottom that fits with absolute perfection over 
 or into the convexity or the concavity of the next block above it or 
 below it. When concave tops are exposed to view they are found 
 holding water little round pools of either rain or spray. The rounded 
 convex tops, on the contrary, are dry and slippery and afford a 
 treacherous foot-hold for 
 
 ON THE CAUSEWAY 
 
 the thousands of sightseers who come every summer to see and mar- 
 vel at this freak of the volcanic forces. The Giant's Causeway was 
 created by a volcanic lava flow -a stream of molten lava pouring 
 seaward, cooling, solidifying and then cracking, from top to bottom, 
 in a million cracks, with such an absurd nicety, that though each 
 lumn is separate and distinct from every other, yet there is not a 
 hair's breadth of space between it and the columns that surround it.
 
 IRELAND 
 
 331 
 
 All are packed together with an adjustment that is perfectly mirac- 
 ulous. Most of them are either five or six sided. One pretty figure, 
 called the "Lady's Fan," is formed by five pentagons grouped around 
 a hexagon and so tightly fitted to the taller surrounding columns that 
 the pool thus formed holds water. The guides will tell you that 
 
 BASALTIC PILLARS 
 
 in all the forty thousand columns there are only three that have 
 nine sides, one that is triangular and one that is an octagon; the 
 latter is regarded as the keystone of the Causeway. All these were 
 created by the fan- 
 tasy of Nature as 
 she cooled and 
 cracked the wave 
 of lava, that ages 
 since, came rolling 
 forth from the hot 
 earth to meet the 
 rolling waves of the 
 cold sea. A bleak 
 forbidding savage 
 
 THE LADY
 
 332 
 
 IRELAND 
 
 scene, this Causeway, backed by its grim volcanic cliffs and fronted 
 by the surge of angry seas. It looks a barren land where there is 
 naught for hunger except dust and ashes naught for thirst except 
 the bitter brine into which the Causeway disappears. 
 
 Between the Causeway and the rising sun there stands a screen 
 of gorgeously tinted and fantastically carven stone, like a gigantic 
 Chinese curio of jade and amber and cornelian. It is a 
 promontory known as Pleaskin Head it is composed of 
 layers of basaltic rock, each separated from the next 
 above by layers of volcanic ash or red ochre 
 deposited on top of each successive lava 
 flow looking now like rich red currant 
 jelly in a slice of layer cake. Out- 
 lined against the sky we see 
 the famous "chimneys," 
 which, being mis- 
 taken for the
 
 333 
 
 PLEASKIN HEAD 
 
 turrets of Dunluce Castle, were fired upon by a ship of the Span- 
 ish Armada that cruised along this coast in 1588. We may climb 
 and study at close range what the old Spanish cannon balls would 
 have knocked down, had the Spanish aim been better. A closer 
 study of the formation of the cliff shows us how the pavement of the
 
 IRELAND 
 
 oO^ 
 
 Causeway has been laid. Here nearly four hundred feet above sea- 
 level are found the same basaltic columns, only here they are stripped 
 far down revealing the curious drum formation. The weather has 
 been long at work upon these exposed groups of pillars, wearing away 
 
 the less resistant leaving the stronger 
 standing in dizzy isolation from 
 their huddling fellows which 
 seem to draw back from the 
 verge lest they should 
 topple into the great 
 amphitheater hol- 
 lowed by the sea in 
 the scarred face of 
 Pleaskin Head. 
 
 This amphithe- 
 ater is like a frag- 
 ment of the Grand 
 Canyon of Arizona, 
 brought hither from 
 our southwestern 
 wonderland. Below 
 we see the massy dull- 
 toned rock then layers 
 of that reddish ash, more 
 rock, more ochre dust, and 
 above all a range of pillars 
 like the pipes of some semi- 
 circular church organ. 
 It is a glorious experience to walk 
 along the path that winds around this tinted gap and then winds 
 eastward, on and on, through other scenes of an infernal loveliness. 
 Along the topmost ramparts of this northern wall of Ireland we 
 proceed until we stand at last upon what seems the very roof of 
 Ireland, with nothing between us and the Pole, except a desolate ex- 
 
 THE END OF IRELAND
 
 IRELAND 
 
 335 
 
 panse of ocean, nothing between us and the illusion of the Aurora 
 Borealis except that greatest of all illusions space, boundless 
 space. And yet these solid cliffs are not more real than our illusions. 
 Geologically speaking they are here to-day and gone to-morrow. 
 A thousand years is nothing to geology, and ere a thousand years 
 have passed, this cliff that boldly fronts the north wind with its 
 sheer and noble mass, will have crumbled, grain by grain, as 
 Pleaskin Head itself long since began to crumble, and in time the 
 winds and waves that beat unceasingly against this Boreal bulwark 
 of old Erin will have done their work, will have demolished all these 
 rocky castles and razed them flat to the common level of the land, 
 and all their craggy glories will have vanished like the visions of a 
 dream. Ireland has been called a land of dreams. The Irish race 
 
 has been called a 
 race of dreamers. 
 For centuries the 
 people of this 
 dreamland island 
 have dared to 
 dream of Liberty. 
 They have at last, 
 after a struggle 
 that has been be- 
 queathed from 
 generation to gen- 
 eration, made their 
 drtam of liberty 
 come true. Out of 
 the long nightmare 
 of injustice, perse- 
 cution, discontent, 
 revolt and insur- 
 rection has come 
 the promise of the 
 
 THE WORK OF THE WAVES
 
 336 
 
 IRELAND 
 
 fulfillment of Ireland's aspirations. Irishmen are in control of 
 Ireland's destiny. A friendly world well-wishing and overflowing 
 with good-will looks on, confident that the liberty that has been 
 won will bring to Ireland peace and prosperity, compensation for 
 her ancient wrongs and the full enjoyment of her modern rights as 
 a free member of one of the greatest and most democratic empires 
 that the world has ever known.
 
 Index to This Volume 
 
 Abbottsford, 127. 
 Aberdeen, 200-205. 
 
 Fish Market, 204, 205. 
 
 Marishal College, 201, 204. 
 
 Mitchell Tower, 201, 205. 
 
 Trawlers, 205. 
 
 Union Street, 200. 
 Abject Misery, 284. 
 Achill Island, 273-290. 
 Addison, Joseph, 54. 
 Ambleside, 105. 
 America, 276, 280, 285, 289. 
 Amy Robsart, 49. 
 Antrim Coast, 326, 327. 
 Armagh, 272. 
 Arnold, Matthew, 104. 
 Arthur, King, 43, 62. 
 Ascot Sunday, 56, 57. 
 Auld Reekie, 159. 
 Ayr, 177-181. 
 
 Burns' Birthplace, 180. 
 
 Burns' Mausoleum, 184. 
 
 Burns' Statue, 179. 
 Backs, The, 81. 
 Ball's Bridge, 241, 242. 
 "Bally," 299. 
 Ballybunnion Mono Railway, 
 
 The, 296-300. 
 Ballycorus, 300. 
 Balmoral, 194. 
 Banbury Cross, 75. 
 Bannockburn, Battle of, 124, 169. 
 Bath, 33. 
 
 Beau Brummel, 35. 
 Beau Nash, 35. 
 Belfast, 322-325. 
 Belfries of England, 269. 
 Bellrois of France, 259. 
 Ben Nevis, 187. 
 Bideford Bay, 13. 
 Blarney Castle, 313, 317. 
 Blarney Stone, The, 312, 314-319. 
 Bothwell, 152. 
 Boulter's Lock, 56. 
 Bournemouth, 19. 
 Boyne, Battle of the, 264, 267. 
 Braemar, 195. 
 Bray, 248, 249. 
 British Champions, 5. 
 British Conservatism, 105-107. 
 Bruce, Robert, 124, 125, 268. 
 Bruce, Statue-of Robert, 165. 
 Bunyan, John, 67. 
 Burns, Robert, 165, 178-184. 
 Burton, 101. 
 
 Byron, Lord, 80, 201. 
 
 Caledonian Canal, 209, 210. 
 
 Cambridge, 47, 79-81. 
 
 College, Trinity, 80. 
 
 Campaniles of Italy, 269. 
 
 Carnegie, Andrew, 155. 
 
 Cashel, Rock of, 293-295. 
 
 Castle Combe, 32. 
 
 Celtic Crosses, 265-268, 269-336. 
 
 Chapel Hope School, 120-122. 
 
 Charlie, Bonnie Prince, 149-208. 
 
 Cheddar, 46. 
 
 Cheese, 47. 
 
 Cheviots, 118, 121. 
 
 Clip Candlestick, A, 96. 
 
 Clovelly, 12-15. 
 
 Coach and Ford, 109. 
 
 Coniston, 104. 
 
 Connemora, 290, 291. 
 
 Cork, 319-321. 
 
 Cormoran, The Giant, 9. 
 
 Cornwall, 6, 8, 9. 
 
 Country, An Out-of-Doors, 219. 
 
 Country, A Worth While, 223. 
 
 Country, The Kind Green, 110, 111. 
 
 Country, The Real WideOpen, 115. 
 
 Covenanters, The, 158. 
 
 Crofters, 217, 218, 220. 
 
 Crianlarich, 192. 
 
 Crinan Canal, The, 190. 
 
 Croker, Richard, 245. 
 
 Cuchullin Hills, 221. 
 
 Dalkey, 247, 248. 
 
 Danes, 268, 269, 271. 
 
 Darnley, Henry, 140, 151, 152, 155. 
 
 Devenish Island, 270. 
 
 Devonshire, 11. 
 
 Donny brook, 246, 247. 
 
 Dooagh, 282, 283. 
 
 Doomsday Book, 69. 
 
 Dragheda, 265, 266, 267. 
 
 Dryburgh Abbey, 127, 128. 
 
 Dublin, 229-241, 325. 
 
 Bank of Ireland, 233, 234. 
 
 Four Courts, 235, 238. 
 
 Glasnevin Cemetery, 233, 237. 
 
 Grattan's Statue, 232, 234. 
 
 Horse Show, 238, 241-243. 
 
 Museum of Irish Antiquities, 238. 
 
 National Art Gallery, 238. 
 
 Nelson Pillar, 231. 
 
 New Museum and Library, 235. 
 
 O'ConnelFs Monument, 231, 237. 
 
 Parliament House, 232. 
 
 Sackville Street, 230. 
 
 337
 
 INDEX Continued 
 
 Shelbourne Hotel, 238, 239. 
 
 Stephen's Green, 239. 
 
 Trinity College, 233, 234. 
 Dugort, 278, 279, 280. 
 Dumfries, 181, 183. 
 Dunloe, Gap of, 310, 314. 
 Edinburgh, 134-159, 325. 
 
 Abraham Lincoln Monument, 157 
 
 Calton Hill, 135. 
 
 Canongate, 141, 144, 147. 
 
 Castle, 136-141. 
 
 Charles II, Statue of, 144. 
 
 Cowgate, 153. 
 
 David Hume, Tomb of, 156, 157. 
 
 East Princes Street Gardens, 135. 
 
 Greyfriars Churchyard, 158. 
 
 Holyrood Palace, 141, 149-152. 
 
 John Knox Grave, 143. 
 
 John Knox House, 144, 145. 
 
 Magnificent Auditoriums, 154. 
 
 Mons Meg, 141. 
 
 National Gallery, 136. 
 
 Parliament House, 143. 
 
 Parliament Square, 143. 
 
 Princes Street, 131, 134. 
 
 Royal Institution, 135. 
 
 Royal Mile, 141. 
 
 Scott Monument, 129, 134. 
 
 St. Giles' Cathedral, 142. 
 
 St. Margaret's Chapel, 140, 141. 
 
 Toolbooth Prison, 144. 
 
 University, 155. 
 
 West Princes Street Gardens, 135, 
 137, 138. 
 
 White Horse Close, 148. 
 Edward, Prince of Wales, 52, 63-65. 
 Edward III, 61, 63. 
 Edward VII, 51. 
 Elizabeth, Queen, 77, 152, 318. 
 Ellen's Isle, 185. 
 Elstow, 67. 
 England, 6. 
 
 English Riviera, The, 11. 
 Falkirk, Battle of, 166. 
 Falstaff , Sir John, 66. 
 Fingal'sCave, 214, 329. 
 Finished Scenery, 116. 
 Firth of Forth, 160. 
 Flora Macdonald, 207-209. 
 "FoineDays," 276. 
 Fort Augustus, 210. 
 Forth Bridge, 160-162. 
 Fotheringay, 152. 
 Friar's Heel, The, 29, 30. 
 George V, 64. 
 
 Giant's Causeway, 328-332, 334. 
 Gladstone, 51. 
 Glaestyngabyrig, 44. 
 Glasgow, 172-176, 325. 
 Glasgow University, 175. 
 
 Glastonbury, 42-45. 
 Glastonbury, Thorn of, 43. 
 Glastonbury Tor, 43, 44. 
 Glendalough, 250-253. 
 Glengariff, 312, 315. 
 Gota Canal, 210. 
 Grampian Mountains, 194. 
 Granite City, The, 200. 
 Grasmere, 102. 
 Grattan, Henry, 234-237. 
 Grattan's Parliament, 235. 
 Great Tom, 51. 
 Greater Britain, 5. 
 Greenwich, 75-79. 
 Gretna Green, 116, 117. 
 Greyfriars Bobby, 159. 
 Hampton Court, 59-61. 
 Harvard, John, 81-83. 
 Hathaway, Anne, 93. 
 Haunch of Venison, The, 20. 
 Heart of Bruce, The, 124. 
 Heather, 189. 
 
 Heating Arrangements, 105. 
 Hebrides, Inner, 217. 
 Isle of Skye, 216, 217. 
 Henley Regatta, 57. 
 Henry VIII, 44, 59, 77, 163. 
 Highland Lakes, 186. 
 Highlands, The, 191, 195. 
 Holme, 101. 
 
 Holy Cross, 295, 296, 297. 
 Holyhead, 229. 
 Honest Duty, 287. 
 Honister Pass, 108. 
 Howth, 243. 
 Ilfracombe, 11. 
 Industrial Army, An, 288. 
 Inverness, 205-209. 
 lona, 211-213. 
 Ireland's Eye, 243, 245. 
 Ireland's Fairest Valley, 294, 295. 
 Ireland's Wealth, 227. 
 Irish "Bulls," 248, 307. 
 Irish Channel, 229. 
 Irish "Hovels," Charming, 257. 
 Irish Hunters, 241. 
 Irish Norway, An, 290. 
 Irish Switzerland, An, 290. 
 I soul t of Ireland, 8. 
 Ivanhoe, 133. 
 Jack the Giant Killer, 10. 
 James I, 61. 
 
 James I of England, 139. 
 James II, 264, 265. 
 John Bunyan, 67. 
 Johnson, Samuel, 51. 
 Jordans, 66. 
 
 Joseph of Arimathaea, 43. 
 Keats, John, 104. 
 Keel Constabulary, 281. 
 
 338
 
 INDEX Continued 
 
 Kenilworth, 98. 
 
 Kenmare, Estate of the Earl of, 
 
 304-306. 
 
 Killarney, 304-312. 
 "King Maker," The, 98. 
 Kingston, 229. 
 
 Knox, John, 142, 143, 145, 151. 
 Kylemore Castle, 291. 
 Lady of the Lake, The, 184, 185. 
 Lady's Fan, The, 331. 
 Lake Country, The English, 101- 
 
 112. 
 
 Lake District Defence Society, 105. 
 Lake Poets, 103. 
 Lakes, Scottish, 184-189. 
 Land of Lyonesse, 7, 8. 
 Land's End, 6. 
 
 "Last of the Barons," The, 97. 
 Limerick, 292, 293. 
 Linlithgow, 162, 164, 165. 
 Lisdoonvarna, Bridge of, 297. 
 Loch Awe, 188. 
 Loch Katrine, 184. 
 Loch Lomond, 186, 188. 
 Loch Lubnaig, 188. 
 Longleat Park, 36. 
 Looe, 9. 
 
 Lough Erne, 270. 
 Lough Leane, 307-309. 
 Lusitania, 321, 322. 
 Macbeth, 213. 
 
 McGillicuddy's Reeks, 310-313. 
 Manchester, Duke of, 291. 
 Mark, King, 8. 
 Mary, Queen of Scots, 130, 140, 
 
 150, 164. 
 Meeting of the Waters, 254, 311, 
 
 313. 
 
 Melrose Abbey, 123, 124. 
 Memories of Pisa and of Florence, 
 
 205. 
 
 Moher, Cliffs of, 300, 302, 303. 
 Monasterboice, 266-269. 
 Mottha Stone, The, 255, 256. 
 Nelson, Horatio, 79, 231. 
 New England's Birthplace, 61. 
 Newgrange, 262-264, 265. 
 New Haven, 160. 
 Oban, 211. 
 O'Connell, Daniel, 231-233, 237, 
 
 260. 
 
 Order of the Garter, 62. 
 Ovoca, Vale of, 254, 255. 
 Oxford, 47, 55. 
 Christ Church, 51. 
 Magdalen College, 52. 
 Merton College, 55. 
 Parnell, James Stewart, 237. 
 Peat, 273, 274, 276-278. 
 Penn, William, 66, 67, 68. 
 
 Pennsylvania, 66, 67. 
 Perth, 191-194. 
 Pleaskin Head, 332-334. 
 Portree, 222. 
 Potatoes, 17. 
 Poultry Cross, The, 21. 
 Prince of Wales, 63-65. 
 Quakers, 66. 
 Queenstown, 321. 
 Race of Dreamers, A, 335. 
 Rameses The Great, 31. 
 Richard Coeur de Lion, 65. 
 River Avon, 93, 97. 
 
 Avon, in Wiltshire, 26. 
 
 Ayr, 177. 
 
 Cam, 79. 
 
 Cherwell, 54. 
 
 Clyde, 176, 177. 
 
 Lee, 320. 
 
 Liffey, 229. 
 
 Shannon, 292, 293. 
 
 Tay, 191-194. 
 
 Thames, 55-59. 
 
 Tweed, 127. 
 Rizzio, David, 151. 
 Rob Roy, 184, 185. 
 Roman Baths, 33. 
 Ross Castle, 307, 308. 
 Round Towers, 237, 251, 266-271, 
 
 294, 295. 
 
 Royal Naval College, 79. 
 Rushlight, 96. 
 Ruskin, John, 51, 104. 
 Salisbury, 20-26. 
 Salisbury Cathedral, 22-26. 
 Salisbury Plain, 27. 
 Scilly Isles, 7. 
 Scotch Directness, 123. 
 Scotch Humor, 170. 
 Scott, Sir Walter, 126-133. 
 
 Burial Place, 126. 
 
 Monument, 134. 
 Scottish Crops, 288. 
 Scottish Lakes, 184, 189. 
 Scottish Marriage Law, 116. 
 Scuir-Na-Gillean, 221. 
 Selkirk Hills, The, 119. 
 Shakespeare, William, 84-94. 
 Shakespeare Memorial, The, 88- 
 
 93. 
 
 Sheep Fair, A, 106. 
 Sheep Shearing, 119, 120. 
 Shelly, Percy Byssche, 49, 104. 
 Shillelagh, 256, 257. 
 Shottery, 93. 
 
 Siberian Monotony, 326, 327. 
 Silver Strand, The, 185. 
 Skye, Isle of, 216, 217. 
 Sligachan Glen, 221. 
 Society of Friends, 66. 
 
 339
 
 INDEX Continued 
 
 Spanish Armada, 333. 
 
 Staffa, 211, 213-215,329. 
 
 Stars and Stripes, 71. 
 
 Stevenson, Robert Louis, 196-199. 
 
 St. Andrew's Cross, 41. 
 
 St. Columba, 211. 
 
 St. Kevin, 250-252. 
 
 St. Kevin's Bed, 251-253. 
 
 St. Michael's Mount, 8, 9. 
 
 St. Molaise, 270. 
 
 St. Patrick, 211, 238, 272, 310. 
 
 St. Patrick, Statue of, 260-262. 
 
 Staigue Fort, 262, 263. 
 
 Standard Clock, 76. 
 
 Stirling, 164. 
 
 Stirling Bridge, Battle of, 165, 166. 
 
 Stirling Castle, 164-166, 169. 
 
 Stonehenge, 27-32. 
 
 Stone of Destiny, 261, 262. 
 
 Stratford-on-Avon, 82-93. 
 
 Harvard House, 82. 
 
 Shakespeare House, 84. 
 Sulgrave, 68-74. 
 Sulgrave Manor, 69, 71, 73. 
 Tammany, 244, 246. 
 Tara, Hill of, 259, 262. 
 Tea Serving Industry, The, 13. 
 Tedford, Thomas, 210. 
 Teeth of the Sea, 328. 
 Tennyson, Alfred, Lord, 80-10 1. 
 Their Majesties, 64. 
 Tipperary, Vale of, 293-295. 
 
 Tom Quad, 50. 
 
 Torquay, 19. 
 
 Treasure Island, 196, 197. 
 
 Treaty of York, 170. 
 
 Tristram, 8. 
 
 Trossachs, 185. 
 
 Universal Cuisine, 15-18. 
 
 Victoria, Queen, 195. 
 
 Vikings, 268, 271. 
 
 Wallace Monument, 170, 171. 
 
 Wallace, Sir William, 165-168, 170. 
 
 Warwick Castle, 97. 
 
 Washington, George, 69, 71, 72. 
 
 Washingtons of Sulgrave, The, 69, 
 
 71-73. 
 
 Waverly Novels, 129. 
 Wellington, Duke of, 51. 
 William the Conqueror, 69. 
 Wells, 36-42. 
 
 Cathedral, 36-40. 
 
 Chapter House, 38. 
 
 Episcopal Palace, 42. 
 
 Penniless Porch, 42. 
 Westmoreland, 100. 
 Weymouth, 19. 
 William of Orange, 264, 265. 
 Windsor, 61. 
 
 Wolsey, Cardinal, 51, 59, 60. 
 Wordsworth, William, 79, 103. 
 Ynysyr Afalon, 44. 
 Zero Line, 77. 
 
 340
 
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