In 1650, Cromwell besieged the Castle, for more than two months, without success. This was the home of the beautiful Queen Mary at the time she gave birth to James VI, since whose reign the whole of Great Britain has been ruled by one sceptre.
In what is called “The Crown Room” of the Castle, are “The Stones of Power,” or the “Emblems of Scottish Royalty.” These regalia consist of three articles, the Crown, the Sceptre, and the Sword of State. By a fortunate circumstance, I obtain free access to these royal relics. They are entirely new to me, hence I examine them closely. Thinking perhaps the reader would like to know something of an earthly crown before going home to wear an Heavenly one, I give the following description of this one: The lower part is composed of two circles, the undermost much broader than that which rises above it. Both are made of purest gold. The under and broader circle is adorned with twenty-two precious stones, such as diamonds, rubies, topazes, amethysts, emeralds and sapphires. There is an Oriental pearl interposed between each of these stones. The smaller circle, which surmounts the larger one, is studded with small diamonds and sapphires alternately. From this upper circle two imperial arches rise, crossing each other at right angles, and closing at the top in a pinnacle of burnished gold.
The Sceptre is a slender and an elegant rod of silver, three feet long, gilded with gold and set with diamonds. The Sword of State is five feet long. The scabbard is made of crimson velvet and is ornamented with beautiful needlework and silver.
In the same glass case with the above-named insignia, is a golden collar of the “Order of the Garter,” which collar is said to be that presented by Queen Elizabeth to King James VI when he was created Knight of that Order. In the same case, is also a ruby ring labeled as the coronation ring of Charles I. But enough about
“The steep and belted rock,
Where trusted lie the monarchy’s last gems—
The Sceptre, Sword, and Crown that graced the brows,
Since Father Fungus, of an hundred kings.”
I am having a perfect feast in re-reading the “Heart of Midlothian,” the plot of which is laid in this city. I never had such a thirst for knowledge, nor did I ever enjoy reading so much as now. I make daily visits to the Haymarket, to the old Tolbooth, to Holyrood Palace, to Arthur’s Seat, to the cottage where the Dean family lived, and to many places which have been baptized in blood, and about which Scott’s muse loved to sing.
While in the Waverly Hotel, a few days ago, I chanced to meet Reverends J. K. Pace and W. T. Hundly, Baptist preachers from South Carolina. What a happy meeting! We were together only two days. Theirs was a flying trip, and they had to rush on to London and the Continent without seeing much of “Bonnie Scotland.” We agree to meet in six weeks in London or Paris.