Before our windows stands a sycamore-tree planted by James VI. A curious old book was brought to us from Perth, in which the last signatures are those of James I. (of England) and of Charles I., and we were asked to write our names in it, and we did so. Lord Mansfield told me yesterday that there were some people in the town who wore the identical dresses that had been worn in Charles I.’s time. At eleven o’clock we set off as before. We drove through part of Perth, and had a very fine view of Scone. A few miles on, we passed the field of battle of Luncarty, where tradition says the Danes were beaten by Lord Erroll’s ancestor. We also passed Lord Lynedoch’s property. We then changed horses at the “New Inn” at Auchtergaven. The Grampians came now distinctly into view; they are indeed a grand range of mountains.
To the left we saw Tullybelton, where it is said the Druids used to sacrifice to Bel; there are a few trees on the top of the mountain.
To the left; but more immediately before us, we saw Birnam, where once stood Birnam Wood, so renowned in Macbeth. We passed a pretty shooting place of Sir W. Stewart’s, called Rohallion, nearly at the foot of Birnam. To the right we saw the Stormont and Strathtay. Albert said, as we came along between the mountains, that to the right, where they were wooded, it was very like Thüringen, and on the left more like Switzerland. Murthly, to the right, which belongs to Sir W. Stewart, is in a very fine situation, with the Tay winding under the hill. This lovely scenery continues all along to Dunkeld. Lord Mansfield rode with us the whole way.
Just outside Dunkeld, before a triumphal arch, Lord Glenlyon’s Highlanders, with halberds, met us, and formed our guard—a piper playing before us. Dunkeld is beautifully situated in a narrow valley, on the banks of the Tay. We drove in to where the Highlanders were all drawn up, in the midst of their encampments, and where a tent was prepared for us to lunch in. Poor Lord Glenlyon[4] received us; but he had suddenly become totally blind, which is dreadful for him. He was led about by his wife; it was very melancholy. His blindness was caused by over-fatigue. The Dowager Lady Glenlyon, the Mansfields, Kinnoulls, Buccleuchs, and many others were there. We walked down the ranks of the Highlanders, and then partook of luncheon, the piper played, and one of the Highlanders[5] danced the “sword dance.” (Two swords crossed are laid upon the ground, and the dancer has to dance across them without touching them.) Some of the others danced a reel.
[4] The late Duke of Athole.
[5] Charles Christie, now steward to the present Dowager Duchess of Athole.
At a quarter to four we left Dunkeld as we came, the Highland Guard marching with us till we reached the outside of the town. The drive was quite beautiful all the way to Taymouth.[6] The two highest hills of the range on each side are (to the right, as you go on after leaving Dunkeld) Craig-y-Barns and (to the left, immediately above Dunkeld) Craigvinean. The Tay winds along beautifully, and the hills are richly wooded. We changed horses first at Balanagard (nine miles), to which place Captain Murray, Lord Glenlyon’s brother, rode with us. The hills grew higher and higher, and Albert said it was very Swiss-looking in some parts. High ribbed mountains appeared in the distance, higher than any we have yet seen. This was near Aberfeldy (nine miles), which is charmingly situated and the mountains very lofty. At a quarter to six we reached Taymouth. At the gate a guard of Highlanders, Lord Breadalbane’s men, met us. Taymouth lies in a valley surrounded by very high, wooded hills; it is most beautiful. The house is a kind of castle, built of granite. The coup-d’œil was indescribable. There were a number of Lord Breadalbane’s Highlanders, all in the Campbell tartan, drawn up in front of the house, with Lord Breadalbane himself in a Highland dress at their head, a few of Sir Neil Menzies’ men (in the Menzies red and white tartan), a number of pipers playing, and a company of the 92nd Highlanders, also in kilts. The firing of the guns, the cheering of the great crowd, the picturesqueness of the dresses, the beauty of the surrounding country, with its rich background of wooded hills, altogether formed one of the finest scenes imaginable. It seemed as if a great chieftain in olden feudal times was receiving his sovereign. It was princely and romantic. Lord and Lady Breadalbane took us upstairs, the hall and stairs being lined with Highlanders.
[6] I revisited Taymouth last autumn, on the 3rd of October, from Dunkeld (incognita), with Louise, the Dowager Duchess of Athole, and Miss MacGregor. As we could not have driven through the grounds without asking permission, and we did not wish to be known, we decided upon not attempting to do so, and contented ourselves with getting out at a gate close to a small fort, into which we were led by a woman from the gardener’s house, near to which we had stopped, and who had no idea who we were.
We got out, and looked from this height down upon the house below, the mist having cleared away sufficiently to show us everything; and then, unknown, quite in private, I gazed—not without deep emotion—on the scene of our reception twenty-four years ago, by dear Lord Breadalbane, in a princely style, not to be equalled in grandeur and poetic effect.
Albert and I were then only twenty-three, young and happy. How many are gone that were with us then!