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JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 
 
The beauty, the peace of Dryburgh Abbey. — Page 225. 
 
JOHN AND BEHY'S 
 SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 
 
 BY 
 
 MARGARET WILLIAMSON 
 
 AUTHOR OF "JOHN AND BETTY'S ENGLISH HISTORY VISIT 
 
 ILLUSTRATED FROM PHOTOGRAPHS 
 
 BOSTON 
 
 LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO. 
 
Published, August, 1912 
 
 f^^^ 
 
 Copyright, 191 2, by Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co. 
 
 Al/ Rights Reserved 
 
 John and Betty's Scotch History Visit 
 
 •Morwoo^ ipreaa 
 
 Berwick and Smith Co. 
 
 Norwood, Mass. 
 
 U. S. A. 
 
 ,£ ni A .'^ 1 ci .f^ R « 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTBB 
 
 L 
 
 Coronation Week . . . . . 
 
 PAGE 
 
 9 
 
 II. 
 
 Oban, Staffa, and Iona .... 
 
 34 
 
 III. 
 
 In the Western Highlands 
 
 53 
 
 IV. 
 
 The Misty Isle of Skye .... 
 
 72 
 
 V. 
 
 SkYE TiEGENDS AND CaSTLES .... 
 
 84 
 
 VI. 
 
 Inverness and Cawdor Castle . 
 
 100 
 
 VII. 
 
 Ben Nevis, Perth, and Thrums 
 
 112 
 
 Vlll. 
 
 St. Andrews, Lochleven Castle, and 
 Dunfermline 
 
 128 
 
 IX. 
 
 The First Day in Edinburgh . 
 
 143 
 
 X. Old Times and New at Edinburgh Castle 156 
 
 XI. Landmarks of Old Edinburgh . . . 171 
 
 XII. Edinburgh Odds and Ends .... 190 
 
 XIII. In the Scott Country 204 
 
 XIV. Abbotsford and Dryburgh .... 216 
 XV. Hawthornden and Roslin .... 228 
 
 XVI. Linlithgow, Stirling, and the Trossachs 238 
 
 XVII. The Clyde, Dumbarton, and Glasgow . 253 
 
 XVIII. In the Burns Country 267 
 
 XIX. Dumfries and Its Vicinity .... 280 
 
 XX. Just over the Border 292 
 
 5 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 The BEAUTY; THE PEACE OF Dryburgh Abbey (Page 
 225) . Frontispiece y 
 
 FACING 
 PAGE 
 
 The gilded coach in which rode King George and 
 
 Queen Mary 22 v^ 
 
 St. Martin's Cross, which some believe to have 
 remained in the same position for about one 
 thousand years 48 ^ 
 
 "Looks like a great whopping toadstool with 
 millions of stems " 52 
 
 "All this Loch Awe country once belonged to 
 
 the clan Macgregor" 56 v^ 
 
 "Don't they have Skye terriers on the Isle of 
 
 Skye, I should like to know?" . . . . IS ^ 
 
 They stood at length before fine old Dunvegan 
 
 Castle 92 i/' 
 
 " Might we see the garden ? " asked Barbara . 108 u^ 
 
 " Sometime you must read about Jess in ' A Win- 
 dow IN Thrums '" 118 y 
 
 Promptly at 9.44 o'clock, the number 13 was dis- 
 played 128 >„-- 
 
 "Mary was brought here to be a prisoner at 
 
 THE CASTLE OF LORD AND LaDY DOUGLAS OF LOCH- 
 
 leven" 138 I 
 
 7 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 FACING 
 PAGE 
 
 And so, surrounded by the people of modern 
 Edinburgh, they talked of the Edinburgh of 
 LONG AGO 148 '^ 
 
 "Let's look inside Queen Margaret's Chapel. 
 
 It's one of the oldest in all Scotland " . . 160 "^ 
 
 "Wouldn't be hired to live there myself if I 
 
 WERE the King ! " 172 "^ 
 
 "It's the old White Horse Hostelry, named for 
 
 A palfrey belonging to Queen Mary " . . 178 ^ 
 
 The West Bow, just below the castle esplanade 194 v 
 
 "Many a rude tower and rampart there ) _.. 
 
 \ , 206 V 
 Repell'd the insult of the air" ( 
 
 The picturesque pile seems almost to be sus- 
 pended among the tree-tops 232 ^ 
 
 John spent much time in taking the photograph 
 of two little scotch travelers in highland 
 
 KILTS 252 V" 
 
 The river banks once knew Roman stations . 256 ^ 
 " Tam was trying to reach the middle of this 
 
 HIGH OLD bridge" 268 / 
 
 They were more interested in the little ruined 
 
 kirk at Kirkoswald 276 v 
 
 Very Scotch and very quaint with its narrow, 
 straggling street lined with one- story cot- 
 tages 282v^i 
 
 " I BID YOU FAIR : I GIVE YOU WELCOME "... 292 v' 
 
JOHN AND BETTY'S SCOTCH 
 HISTORY VISIT 
 
 CHAPTER ONE 
 
 CORONATION WEEK 
 
 *' Strand, Fleet Street, Bank! Here you 
 are, lady; Strand, Strand! '' 
 
 A little reassured by these well-remembered 
 names, John and Betty clambered np after Mrs. 
 Pitt to the top of a motor bus, and such a be- 
 wildering city as they looked down upon ! 
 
 Betty shook her head in half dismay, half 
 delight. '' I can hardly recognize even Trafal- 
 gar Square," she said; *' but I like London 
 better than ever ! ' ' 
 
 Sure enough, many familiar landmarks had 
 entirely vanished behind rows and rows of 
 wooden seats put up to enable the thousands 
 of visitors to see the great royal processions of 
 Coronation week ; and those that remained were 
 so changed by the unaccustomed gayety of flags, 
 crimson and blue hangings, portraits of the 
 King and Queen painted in extravagant tints, 
 crowns, roses, thistles, and shamrocks outlined 
 in colored electric bulbs, that the effect pro- 
 
 9 
 
lo JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 duced was merely one of dazzling bewilderment. 
 Philip, after living all his life in London, had 
 actually disgraced himself the day before by 
 riding directly past his destination. No one 
 could really blame him when he made his apol- 
 ogies and explained that he could not see that 
 it was Bond Street for the ropes of laurel hang- 
 ing across the way, the tall white pillars, and 
 the great swinging signs proclaiming the names 
 of some of England's famous literary men. 
 
 ** Well," said John, ^^ you know how it was 
 Saturday, when we fellows started out to see 
 the ^ changing of the guard ' there at St. 
 James's Palace. When we got to the street 
 leading down to it, it was such sport on top of 
 the bus, watching everything down below, that 
 we just went right past, 'way up Piccadilly; and 
 the first thing we knew we were out at Albert 
 Hall. I was sorry, Mrs. Pitt, because you were 
 waiting for us, but honestly we couldn't help it." 
 
 ^* Oh, I forgave you willingly," Mrs. Pitt had 
 answered. ^' I've missed any number of ap- 
 pointments myself, for this strange, wonderful 
 London has fairly taken my breath away. I 
 could ride happily on the top of a bus all day 
 long, just watching the crowds." 
 
 The '^ fellows " to whom John had referred 
 were the members of a company of Boy Scouts 
 with whom he had fallen in on this second 
 voyage of Betty's and his across the Atlantic. 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT ii 
 
 Captivated by the khaki suits and dashing yel- 
 low silk neckties of this band, John's first er- 
 rand in England had been to purchase such a 
 yellow necktie for himself. Having been in 
 London before, he had proudly offered to show 
 his new friends *^ the sights ''; and the young 
 professor who was the leader of the party had 
 indulgently accepted John's guidance on sev- 
 eral occasions, only going along to prevent his 
 charges from giving their warwhoop too fre- 
 quently. John's one regret had been that he 
 could not have Mrs. Pitt's permission to go to 
 camp with these boys in Scotland, after the 
 Coronation festivities were at an end. But 
 then, he and his sister and Philip and Barbara 
 were themselves going right there with Mrs. 
 Pitt. It was on purpose to see Scotland that 
 Mrs. Pitt had invited John and Betty for a 
 second summer's travel with her and her son 
 and daughter; but when she had met the 
 Oceanic at Southampton, she had promptly con- 
 fessed having delayed the journey north for 
 one week in order that they might all be in 
 London for Coronation. *^ London is amaz- 
 ing just now," said she. *^ We really shouldn't 
 miss it. The chances are that even you young 
 people may never have the opportunity to see 
 another Coronation." 
 
 The Boy Scouts were not the only visitors in 
 London, they found. The buses, motor cars, 
 
12 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 taxicabs, and hansoms, whicli were so numerous 
 as almost to block all traffic in the Strand, were 
 carrying dapper little Japanese and stout In- 
 dians, with head-dresses of brilliant reds and 
 greens ; one had glimpses of dark foreign faces 
 behind the windows of closed broughams, 
 driven by coachmen in scarlet and the royal 
 cockade; the streets literally swarmed with 
 military men of all complexions and uniforms 
 and degrees, from the United States private in 
 khaki, to the pompous officer of some Eastern 
 regiment in all his Oriental splendor. There 
 were Australians, Canadians, and people from 
 all of England's other colonies; there were 
 Italians, Frenchmen, and Germans; and, of 
 course, there were more Americans than ever. 
 Now and then a company of Horse Guards 
 would clatter along, adding their touch of black 
 and scarlet to the scene. Never before can 
 there have been more amazing contrasts 
 seen in London, even in its normal state a 
 city made up of all sorts and conditions of 
 men. 
 
 * ^ I say ! " interrupted John ; * * we are in luck 
 to have such bully seats for Thursday. Your 
 cousin's a brick to get them for us, Mrs. Pitt! 
 Whenever I meet people from home I talk to 
 them about our places on a * government stand ' 
 in Whitehall, and I can just tell you they all 
 act as if they think we're about it! And we 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 13 
 
 got them so cheap, too ; most people have to pay 
 two or three guineas.'' 
 
 ** By Jove, here are seats for the Corona- 
 tion! '' shouted Philip; and looking where he 
 pointed, the others saw in a tailor's shop a pair 
 of trousers of showy brown check, to which 
 was pinned the notice, ^^ Seats for the Royal 
 Progress/' 
 
 There was no shop so tiny, no window so 
 lofty, along the route, either of the Coronation 
 processions or of the grand Royal Progress 
 of the day following the Coronation, but that 
 the owner was preparing to make his fortune 
 by renting seats in it. Such a hammering; 
 such confusion! Such carrying on of regular 
 trade, and endeavoring to capture holiday- 
 makers at the same time ! Such bustling about 
 of carpenters and decorators ! It was as much 
 as one could do to make one's way along the 
 street for the ladders and the chairs and the 
 rolls of bunting which overflowed upon the 
 sidewalk. 
 
 That afternoon they took a taxicab and 
 started for a drive through Hyde and Regent 
 Parks. It took them two or three times longer 
 than usual to go the length of Piccadilly. John 
 grew impatient, for it was very warm, and the 
 smell of the petrol from the motor cars was 
 most disagreeable; but the placid English- 
 men sat upon the tops of their buses in the 
 
14 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 broiling sun, contentedly reading their news- 
 papers. 
 
 '' In New York they'd all get off and walk/' 
 John remarked. 
 
 After a while they did reach Hyde Park Cor- 
 ner, however, and conld turn in through the big 
 arch into Eotten Eow. The many wide ave- 
 nues of Hyde Park were thronged with smart 
 turn-outs of every description, and the only dif- 
 ficulty was that one could not look at the people 
 in all of them at the same moment. Betty 
 grew almost dizzy trying to puzzle out the crests 
 on the beautifully polished doors of carriages 
 and motor cars; and John shouted excitedly, 
 *^ There's John Hays Hammond! Hurrah for 
 theU. S. A.!" 
 
 ^* John! Lookout! He'll hear! " reproved 
 Betty anxiously. 
 
 ** Don't care if he does! You needn't think 
 I don't know Hammond, all right! Haven't 
 I seen him loads of times down at Gloucester ? ' ' 
 
 They found Eegent's Park still more excit- 
 ing, for here the soldiers were encamped. 
 They drove between rows and rows of tents 
 which had been pitched on all the green lawns ; 
 they caught glimpses of men in Highland kilts 
 hurrying about on various errands; they saw 
 the big tent used for the mess, and others 
 where the horses were kept. 
 
 ** You see, regiments have come from Scot- 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 15 
 
 land and Ireland, from many provincial towns, 
 and from all of England's colonies, to play 
 their part in the great processions, a few of 
 them in that of Coronation Day and the rest in 
 the Eoyal Progress. Sixty thousand troops 
 are quartered in the parks of London. The 
 Indian regiments are at Bushey Park, near 
 Hampton Court." 
 
 '' Oh, can't we go out there, Mrs. Pitt? I'd 
 like to talk to those big fellows in the turbans ! ' ' 
 
 *^ I'm afraid they wouldn't let you in, John, 
 unless you had urgent business," and Mrs. 
 Pitt smiled at the boy's eagerness. ^' The 
 other day they stopped Barbara and me when 
 we tried to walk from old Chelsea Hospital 
 down to the Embankment. There are soldiers 
 in the old Vauxhall woods, too." 
 
 And so the days flew by until the much- 
 anticipated Thursday, the twenty-second day 
 of June, arrived. Betty was up at dawn to 
 study the heavens, and soon after Mrs. Pitt 
 heard her knock at the door and anxiously ex- 
 claim, *^ It truly looks like showers, and what 
 shall we do? " 
 
 *^ Don't worry about those little clouds, 
 dear," counseled Mrs. Pitt, who was not to be 
 daunted by English weather. '' It will un- 
 doubtedly be fine." 
 
 They breakfasted at six-thirty, and by a 
 quarter after seven were on their way to the 
 
1 6 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 nearest '' Tube " station. Few people were 
 on the streets, and when their train came along, 
 it was practically empty. The two Americans 
 of the party, having had some experience with 
 crowds on days of big processions at home, 
 were much astonished. ^^ Where is every- 
 body? '^ gasped Betty. ** Are we early, or are 
 we very late? '' 
 
 A short ride brought them to the Charing 
 Cross station, from which they walked along 
 the Thames Embankment. Here a subdued ex- 
 citement prevailed ; now and then companies of 
 big policemen marched down the wide street, 
 and here and there were a few Horse Guards, 
 just about to mount. Most astonishing of all 
 was the sight of a lady in white gown and vivid 
 green carriage wrap, whose dress, from her 
 dainty gold slippers to the three nodding plumes 
 in her hair, suggested that a place might be 
 awaiting her in the old Abbey. 
 
 ^^ Is she walking to the Coronation! '' came 
 from startled Betty. 
 
 '' Well," said Mrs. Pitt, '' it would certainly 
 look as though she were. Perhaps she was not 
 able to engage a carriage, or even preferred 
 walking to paying the price demanded for one. 
 I heard of a gentleman, yesterday, who hired an 
 ordinary cab to take him to the Abbey — for the 
 modest sum of seven guineas ! Fancy ! ' ' 
 
 Mrs. Pitt led the way through a little gate 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 17 
 
 in a high wall, showing their big blue tickets as 
 they entered. Crossing the garden at the rear 
 of this government building at No. 8 Richmond 
 Terrace, Whitehall, they went into the cellar, 
 up some narrow stairs, along tiny improvised 
 passages, and finally stepped out a window to 
 the stand on which were their seats. 
 
 ' ' Oh ! " Betty cried, as she dropped into her 
 seat ; and then again, ^ ' Oh ! ' ' 
 
 But her mild exclamation was drowned in 
 John's excited ^' See that carriage, will you! 
 Where's a programme! Whose is it? Look at 
 the wigs and cocked hats and the gold lace! 
 And the crowds! Say, this is great! " 
 
 From their seats they could see Trafalgar 
 Square in one direction, and, in the other, the 
 east end of Westminster Abbey, all but hidden 
 by a giant stand black with people. Whitehall 
 was lined on each side by a double row of sol- 
 diers, some of them in scarlet coats and some 
 in hunter's green with black hats, while down 
 toward the Abbey some kilts of Gordon plaid 
 were visible. Behind the soldiers, the sidewalks 
 were solid with people, many of whom had been 
 there a great many hours, patiently waiting to 
 show their allegiance to their King and Queen. 
 Almost every available place on the stands, on 
 balconies, ledges, roofs, or in windows, even to 
 the upper stories, was already filled by eager 
 lookersron. Everywhere were waving flags 
 
1 8 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 and hangings of scarlet or royal blue or purple. 
 Tall white pillars, on each of which was a shield 
 with the name and date of one of England's 
 monarchs, swaying ropes of laurel, and an oc- 
 casional great white archway, rendered White- 
 hall indeed fit for the passage of a king. 
 
 Between these rows of soldiers, and under the 
 arches, rolled a long succession of motor cars 
 and carriages, carrying the guests to the Abbey. 
 At first there were mainly neat broughams, 
 modest limousines, or even shabby four-wheel- 
 ers; but when the peers began to pass, Betty 
 cried, *^ That one's exactly like Cinderella's 
 coach! " 
 
 My lord and lady, whoever they might be, 
 were in magnificent array. The shining coach, 
 with its coat of arms, was swung high, and its 
 steps were haughtily drawn up as if to em- 
 phasize the distance of the fine people it carried 
 from the '^ common herd." There were four 
 horses in heavy harness with elaborate silver 
 mountings and pale-blue hangings, and the pom- 
 pous coachman in his powdered wig and the two 
 footmen up behind wore gorgeous liveries of 
 blue and silver. 
 
 As these coaches passed, John exclaimed, 
 *^ Well, I didn't suppose there were such fool 
 things except on the stage ! ' ' but he really was 
 impressed by the splendor, all the same. 
 
 And now many such coaches came in view; 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 19 
 
 one or more was in sight all the time. Some 
 had gay yellow wheels; some had three foot- 
 men on the perch behind; some liveries were 
 plum-color and some black, with much gold 
 fringe; a few coachmen wore lavender stock- 
 ings, which were in startling contrast with their 
 scarlet coats. And from behind the little win- 
 dows of all the coaches one caught glimpses of 
 silks, velvets, and ermine, of pretty faces, the 
 flash of jewels, or of uniforms with lines of 
 jeweled decorations across the breast. And 
 while these grand coaches and more common- 
 place carriages were rolling by, the soldiers oc- 
 casionally moved about, one company relieving 
 another; officers galloped past, giving orders; 
 and some one in court dress, or a bishop in his 
 flowing robes, proceeded on foot towards the 
 Abbey. 
 
 Then, all of a sudden, it rained; and for, per- 
 haps, a quarter of an hour the huge stands, the 
 balconies, ledges, roofs, and sidewalks were 
 transformed into a mass of innumerable black 
 umbrellas, with an occasional bedraggled silk 
 parasol in their midst. However, when the first 
 procession began to pass, at about ten o'clock, 
 there were very few umbrellas to be seen. This 
 procession was composed of state carriages, 
 some open and some closed, carrying the repre- 
 sentatives from foreign countries. Each was in 
 his state uniform, varying from the Eastern 
 
20 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 princes in their vivid colors and dazzling jewels, 
 to the United States special ambassador in Ms 
 severe black frock coat. In the next procession, 
 arriving half an hour later, were members of 
 the English royal family, the coach bearing the 
 royal children bringing up the rear. 
 
 Loud were the cheers and many the smiles and 
 cries of ^^ God bless him! " which greeted the 
 Prince of Wales ; pretty Princess Mary and the 
 three little princes, in their sailor-suits and close 
 caps, had their share of the cheering, too. Dig- 
 nified, though shy, the eldest prince and his sis- 
 ter bowed stiffly; but the little princes only 
 looked out upon the crowds with big, round, 
 astonished eyes. 
 
 '' What a bore for them! '' was John's ver- 
 dict of the situation; but Philip and Barbara, 
 loyal British subjects, were talking most 
 familiarly about the children. 
 
 ** They were all there except little Prince 
 John," remarked Barbara. '' Where do you 
 suppose he is? Perhaps they left him at Wind- 
 sor, he's so little." 
 
 '' It must be ripping to be a prince," said 
 Philip. '' I wouldn't miss the Coronation, by 
 Jove, if I were the youngest." 
 
 Both in advance of and in the rear of those 
 two processions, the Horse Guards, on their 
 glistening black horses, all of the same size, the 
 Yeomen of the Guard in their scarlet, slashed 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 21 
 
 uniforms, numbers of officers of Indian regi- 
 ments, in the brightest of colors, English gen- 
 erals, among whom Lord Roberts and Lord 
 Kitchener received almost as hearty cheers as 
 royalty itself, made a wondrous pageant. More 
 Yeomen of the Guard came in the third pro- 
 cession, walking on each side of the gilded 
 coach in which rode King George and Queen 
 Mary. 
 
 As this picturesque coach, with its eight 
 cream-colored horses, each led by a groom in 
 livery, its gorgeous trappings, and its outriders, 
 came slowly down Whitehall, even John and 
 Betty felt a thrill. John focused his camera 
 and Betty stood on tiptoe. Every one cheered, 
 but there was no wild demonstration. The 
 British public seldom allows its really great 
 devotion to its sovereign to be seen, and it was 
 only now and then that a man forgot himself. 
 As the gold coach passed, carrying the King, 
 almost lost in his huge cape, a stolid Briton sit- 
 ting beside Betty (he had been reading the 
 morning Times during the greater part of the 
 day) suddenly arose, tossed up his cap, and 
 shouted boisterously: '^ There goes the greatest 
 man in the world, by Jove! '' 
 
 After the coach had passed, lurching on its 
 way to the Abbey, there was a general stir. 
 Soldiers broke ranks, exhausted people sat down 
 upon the curb, occupants of the stands left their 
 
22 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 places, and every one took advantage of the 
 two hours which must elapse before royalty 
 would again pass that way. 
 
 '' dear, I do wish it wasn't over! '' Betty 
 
 '' But we're going to see them again, and 
 they'll have on their crowns," said Barbara 
 comfortingly. 
 
 ** The very crowns we saw at the Tower! " 
 exclaimed Philip. 
 
 John's remark was practical. " Can't we 
 have something to eat now! " said he. 
 
 An attack was accordingly made upon the re- 
 freshment booth in the garden, but so great were 
 the crowds that it was impossible to buy much 
 there. Fortunately they had brought with them 
 a box of crackers and a bag of raisins as 
 emergency rations. 
 
 * \ No matter, ' ' said Mrs. Pitt ; ' ' we '11 be home 
 by three o'clock, and can have tea." 
 
 But the ceremony inside the dark old Abbey 
 took longer than the authorities had expected, 
 and it was after two o'clock when the soldiers 
 formed in line, the people took their places, and 
 the King and Queen passed, crowned, and car- 
 rying in their hands jeweled scepters. 
 
 " Why, I didn't know that the Prince of 
 Wales and Princess Mary would have crowns, 
 too ! ' ' cried Barbara, as the royal children came 
 in sight. 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 23 
 
 Back trooped the mounted officers and the In- 
 dians, the *^ Beefeaters," and all the foreign 
 royalties and ambassadors, in splendid array; 
 back came the Lord Mayor, in his magnificence, 
 which almost rivals that of Their Majesties; 
 back came all the coaches of the peers, the 
 motor cars and the four-wheelers. People were 
 beginning to leave their seats, and Mrs. Pitt 
 finally persuaded her party to start, also. The 
 *^ Tube '' carried them close to the Pitts' home 
 in Cavendish Square, where all was as quiet as 
 on a summer Sunday afternoon. 
 
 Taking off her raincoat and her hat, and put- 
 ting down her field-glass and her crumpled 
 programme of the day's festivities, Betty 
 sighed: ^^ Did we really see it! It seems like a 
 dream! " 
 
 It is much to be able to persuade a London 
 official to change his mind, but John did it two 
 days later. It was at noon of the warm Satur- 
 day following the Coronation, and, happening to 
 pass St. James's, John and Betty heard some 
 one say that the Duke of Connaught was soon 
 to review the Yeomen of the Guard on the lawn 
 behind the Palace. 
 
 ^' Oh, John, we can't get in unless we have 
 cards of admission ! The sentry says so ! " 
 
 Whenever John saw that disappointed look 
 upon his sister's face, he knew that the time 
 had come for him to exert himself. 
 
24 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 '' Wait till I tackle him,'' said he, thrusting 
 his hands deep in his pockets, and striding 
 toward the tall man in uniform who barred their 
 way. 
 
 '' You see, sir, we didn't know about the cards 
 to get in ; we didn 't even know about the review 
 till we were just walking by the Palace. We're 
 from America, and my sister 's just crazy about 
 those ' Beefeaters.' Couldn't you let us in? " 
 
 First there came a half-smile and a glance of 
 amusement ; then a whispered consultation with 
 a superior officer; and, at last, the welcome 
 words: '^ Get your sister and go straight 
 along in. Follow that party, and you'll be all 
 right. ' ' 
 
 "' We won't be able to see a thing unless we 
 can be near the front," said Betty anxiously, 
 feeling a little timid to be alone with John 
 among so many fashionably-dressed people ; but 
 just then a gentleman in a silk hat made room 
 for them to step in front of him. 
 
 The Yeomen of the Guard were drawn up in 
 two long lines in the center of the green grass. 
 They carried tall staves with tassels and shining 
 points, and wore queer wide-brimmed hats with 
 square crowns, and big red rosettes on their 
 heavy shoes; on their scarlet breasts were the 
 crown with the letter G and the Eoman numeral 
 V on either side, and the rose of England be- 
 low; on their backs were displayed the thistle 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 25 
 
 and the shamrock in elaborate embroideries. 
 The various badges and decorations of each 
 man added to the brilliant effect of the scarlet 
 cloth and gold braid. 
 
 " Bully! " cried John. '' They look great 
 when you see so many of them together. Betty, 
 who do you think those other soldiers are, the 
 ones with the flying white and yellow feathers 
 in their hats ! ' ' 
 
 '' Those are officers who are in charge this 
 morning, officers of the Duke's staff,'' explained 
 their friend. 
 
 ' ' Oh, are they ? The Duke of Connaught, do 
 you mean! He isn't here yet, is he? " Hav- 
 ing found somebody willing to answer ques- 
 tions, John meant to learn all he could. 
 
 * ' And would you please tell me who the Duke 
 of Connaught is, sir? " put in Betty. " I can't 
 exactly remember. ' ' 
 
 ' ' Quite so ! Quite so ! " said the kind gentle- 
 man. ^^ The Duke is the King's uncle, you see, 
 and the late King Edward's brother. You will 
 like him. No, he isn't here yet, but very soon 
 you will see him come out that door, over 
 there. ' ' 
 
 A band was playing now under some trees, 
 more people were arriving all the time, and the 
 gay crowd, strolling about this green inclosure 
 so near the dingy brick walls of old St. James's 
 Palace, made a lovely picture. John and Betty 
 
26 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 were feeling very happy to think that they were 
 there. 
 
 All at once every one stopped talking, the 
 musicians played '^ God Save the King," and 
 down the steps of Clarence House, the residence 
 of the Duke of Connaught, which adjoins St. 
 James ■ s Palace, came the Duke, followed by his 
 son. Prince Arthur, a royal visitor from Spain, 
 and some members of the Duke's household. 
 
 ^' Well, he looks more like a king than any- 
 body I've ever seen! " cried Betty, grasping 
 John's arm in her enthusiasm. 
 
 Wonderfully erect and soldierly is the Duke, 
 in spite of his white hair and his years. He 
 was genuinely gracious as he shook hands and 
 spoke a few words with several of the officers. 
 Then, advancing to a point exactly in front of 
 the lines of Yeomen of the Guard, he raised his 
 hand to his forehead, and instantly they gave 
 their answering salute. Afterwards, while the 
 band played softly, the party walked the length 
 of each row of the Guards, the Duke in the lead. 
 To each old man he made some pleasant remark, 
 sometimes bringing a quick smile to a face, as 
 he touched a gold medal ; on the breast of one of 
 the oldest he pinned a new badge, probably for 
 long service. 
 
 '^ So that's how they review soldiers,'' said 
 Betty; *^ I've always wanted to know." 
 
 The Duke had now disappeared, having 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 27 
 
 stopped a moment to speak with his two little 
 grandsons, children of the Crown Prince and 
 Princess of Sweden, who had watched the re- 
 view from a low balcony of Clarence House. 
 
 ** But you never thought you'd come here and 
 see the Duke of Connaught do the stunt, did you, 
 Betty? '' Then John added, '' Thank you, sir, 
 for helping us to see,'' and touched his cap as 
 the tall gentleman moved away. Betty and 
 he lingered a few moments in order to watch 
 the people and to get a nearer view of the 
 gorgeous '' Beefeaters," who were then min- 
 gling with the crowd ; then they hastened away 
 to meet Mrs. Pitt, Philip, and Barbara, impa- 
 tient to tell of their adventure. 
 
 Another very nice thing happened that after- 
 noon. As Mrs. Pitt knew one of the clergy con- 
 nected with Westminster Abbey, she had been 
 invited by him to bring the young people to see 
 the Abbey. John had pronounced this privilege 
 *^ corking," and Philip and Barbara had been 
 radiant with anticipation ; but Betty looked very 
 sober, much to the surprise of them all. 
 
 *^ I know it is perfectly horrid of me," she 
 said; '^ but I'm so afraid I sha'n't like it. I'll 
 hate to see the dear Abbey with the monuments 
 all covered up, and I just know they will put 
 purple velvet, or red, everywhere. But he's 
 lovely to ask us, and I'll go, of course," she 
 added resignedly. 
 
28 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 ** Fancy feeling so about it, Betty! It's 
 really a chance which very few will be fortunate 
 enough to have before Monday, when the Abbey 
 will be thrown open to the public." But then, 
 Betty was very often heard expressing strange 
 little ideas, which sometimes even Mrs. Pitt did 
 not understand. 
 
 As it proved, even Betty came away with only 
 the most beautiful impression of what she saw. 
 It was true that every one of the hundreds of 
 monuments and statues had quite vanished; 
 Westminster Abbey had banished its dead and 
 given itself over to the splendors of the living. 
 Rows and rows of seats had been built in every 
 possible place, even as high up as the clerestory 
 windows ; these were all covered with cloth of an 
 old blue color, and the hangings near the altar 
 were of a kind of cut velvet in two tones of the 
 same soft blue. 
 
 The clergyman was most considerate. He 
 took them up into the organ-loft to view the Ab- 
 bey from there; he explained about the posi- 
 tions of the different seats, this one for the 
 Prince of Wales, this for the Duke of Con- 
 naught, and another to which the Queen came to 
 be crowned; he showed them the magnificent 
 gold plate on the altar, and two rugs of very 
 great value which had been loaned for the cov- 
 ering of the floor of the chancel. 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 29 
 
 '* Is it all just as it was on Coronation day? " 
 Betty asked. 
 
 ^^ Qnite the same/' nodded their friend, as he 
 opened the door for them ; ' ' quite the same, ex- 
 cept for the velvets and ermines, the uniforms, 
 the jewels, and the beautiful women.'' 
 
 The party planned to take the train for Scot- 
 land on Wednesday of the week following Coro- 
 nation, and on the night before came what John 
 considered ^^ the bulliest stunt of all." Mrs. 
 Pitt had tickets for the Gala Performance at 
 His Majesty's Theater, the performance which 
 King George and Queen Mary, with all their 
 foreign visitors, were to attend. 
 
 ** I've never felt quite so big in all my life! " 
 Betty announced solemnly, as she drew over her 
 white silk frock the dainty pink cape bought at 
 fascinating Liberty's shop on purpose for this 
 grand occasion. 
 
 *^ Mother! They're peering in at us as if 
 they think we are lords and ladies, or some 
 royalties ! ' ' chattered Barbara as their taxicab 
 hurried towards Haymarket. 
 
 * ^ Do they do this whenever King George goes 
 to the theater?" put in John. ''Why! the 
 streets are jammed with people, just as if there 
 was going to be a parade! My! look, Philip! 
 There are soldiers opposite the theater, and a 
 band's coming up from Pall Mall there, a band 
 
30 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 with black muffs on their heads ! This is great ! " 
 
 There were so many attractions outside that 
 Mrs. Pitt could hardly induce the young people 
 to go to their seats. A carpet was stretched 
 luxuriously over the sidewalk; there were 
 flowers and blazing lights. Carriages were 
 driving up, and so many ladies and gentlemen 
 were alighting that the entrances were crowded. 
 
 ' ' Our tickets are orange, and we go in at this 
 door with the orange sign, ' ' said John. ' ' Come 
 on!'' 
 
 The way of the holders of the big, square, 
 orange tickets lay up several flights of stairs to 
 the second balcony. 
 
 '' Bother! " John burst out thoughtlessly. 
 * ^ We can see the stage all right, but mighty few 
 of the people! "Where are King George and 
 Queen Mary? " 
 
 ** Hush, John! Mrs. Pitt '11 think you're so 
 rude! Probably the King and Qu^en aren't 
 here yet. These are our seats," and Betty sat 
 down and began to look eagerly about her. 
 
 Such beautiful women in magnificent cos- 
 tumes ; such jewels on their gowns, about their 
 necks, in their hair; such grand gentlemen in 
 uniforms of scarlet or blue, with gold braid. ' ' I 
 can't see one man in a plain dress-suit," said 
 John; ^' if they couldn't scrape up any uniform, 
 they wear black velvet and three-cornered hats. 
 There's a Jap over there. See him, Betty? " 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 31 
 
 ** Yes, that black velvet is the court costume/' 
 remarked Mrs. Pitt absently, trying to loosen a 
 bit of fringe on her gown which had caught on 
 the gold buckle of an officer who occupied the 
 seat in front of hers. 
 
 ** Mother, isn't that the Lord Mayor with the 
 gold chain around his neck, there in that box 
 at the left I I can just see him by standing up. ' ' 
 
 '' Yes, Philip, that's he," said Mrs. Pitt, as 
 she turned and beckoned to an usher. ^ * May I 
 have another programme, please? " 
 
 The neat woman in a black dress and a white 
 cap with long streamers, muttered a ^' Thank 
 you, madam," as she obeyed the request. 
 
 '^ We have some women ushers at home 
 now," Betty remarked, ^' but I never saw them 
 carry little trays with ices to sell and candy 
 
 and Oh, are they coming? " stopping 
 
 short as the musicians played ^^ God Save the 
 King," and people rose to their feet. 
 
 ^' It's queer to know they're here, and not be 
 able to see them," said Barbara to Betty. 
 ^' They don't sit in a box, but in the center of 
 the first balcony, right under where we are. ' ' 
 
 Then the curtains parted, Forbes-Robertson 
 stepped out, and read the lines of welcome to 
 Their Majesties. There followed the ^^ Letter 
 Scene " from Shakespeare's ^' Merry Wives of 
 Windsor," played by Miss Terry and Mrs. 
 Kendal. 
 
32 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 * * Ellen Terry ! ' ' whispered Betty, with a lit- 
 tle thrill of excitement. ^^ I've always wanted 
 to see her ! She's the tall, graceful one in rose- 
 color, isn't she? Now I know why people say 
 she'll never grow old! Isn't she beautiful? " 
 
 Then there was a scene from '' David Gar- 
 rick, ' ' and the ^ ^ Forum Scene ' ' from ' ' Julius 
 Caesar, ' ' the latter particularly delighting John. 
 
 ** That mob was great! " he declared. '^ I 
 thought they'd tear down the theater." 
 
 " No wonder," said Mrs. Pitt; " the people in 
 that mob were all actors of note, instead of mere 
 * supers ' picked up for a few nights' run. 
 That's one stage mob in a thousand! " 
 
 When the curtain went down on '^ Julius 
 Caesar," Mrs. Pitt hurriedly left her seat, fol- 
 lowed by the others. Quickly they went to a 
 door on the extreme left of their balcony, close 
 to the boxes, from which they could have a 
 splendid view of royalty. The first balcony and 
 the floor of the theater were ablaze with color 
 and the flash of jewels. The orchestra seats 
 were occupied by members of the nobility and 
 diplomats, while in the center of the balcony sat 
 Their Majesties, surrounded by their foreign 
 guests and the special ambassadors. 
 
 ** That must be the Duchess of Marlborough! 
 It looks just like her pictures ! Do you see her ? 
 There, in the fourth row ! ' ' 
 
 ** Is that the German Crown Princess on the 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 33 
 
 King's left, the one in pale blue with all the 
 diamonds? She's sweet! " 
 
 '^ Just look at all the Indians! They're as 
 gorgeous as they were the other day in the pro- 
 cession! " 
 
 * * Queen Mary looks ripping in corn color and 
 emeralds! " 
 
 ** Oh, I've found the dear Duke of Con- 
 naught! Is that his daughter. Princess Patri- 
 cia, do you suppose? " 
 
 There was much more to see, many more cele- 
 brated actors and actresses to admire, but, as 
 Betty admitted afterwards, she was ^^ too 
 dazed to take it in." Vaguely she remembered 
 the charming effect of light and color in a 
 masque by Ben Jonson, and she stood up 
 in order to get one last glimpse of Ellen Terry, 
 when all who had taken part appeared on the 
 stage, but she was too sleepy to pay much at- 
 tention to the final singing of ^^ God Save the 
 King." 
 
 Slowly they descended the stairs and found 
 a taxicab to take them home. When Barbara 
 woke her, in time to catch the Glasgow express 
 the next morning, Betty was dreaming that she 
 was one of Queen Mary's ladies-in-waiting, and 
 was being severely scolded because she yawned 
 at the Gala Performance. 
 
CHAPTER TWO 
 
 OBAN, STAFFA, AND lONA 
 
 **Why!" exclaimed Betty, as she came 
 down the steps of the Great Western Hotel, 
 '^ truly it hurts my eyes, it's so bright and 
 sparkly! '' 
 
 Betty's '^ it " referred to many lovely things. 
 In the first place, the sky was deep blue and 
 cloudless, with the bay hardly a shade less blue 
 except where thousands of dancing sunbeams 
 fell upon it, turning its surface into so shining 
 a gold that the copper-colored sails of the little 
 fishing-boats looked a dull brown in comparison. 
 There were the green wooded shores and, in 
 the distance, the soft, hazy outline of the island 
 of Kerrera, which lies across the entrance of 
 Oban Bay, making it appear almost like a 
 lake, — and it was not yet eight o'clock of a 
 morning in June. 
 
 '' See all the yachts! " cried John, walking 
 along Oban's prettiest street, which skirts the 
 bay; '' that's a dandy, — that with the French 
 flag! And will you look at all the steamers? 
 Where are they all going to? " 
 
 34 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 35 
 
 " ^ 'Tis there the steamboats drive about — 
 
 My tongue is no deceiver — 
 Out and in, and in and out, 
 
 Like shuttle of the weaver; 
 'Tis now to Mull, and now to Skye, 
 
 And now to mouth of Clyde, sir. 
 Like magic steed, with snorting speed, 
 
 They paw the purple tide, sir! 
 
 " ' For Oban is a dainty place ; 
 
 In distant or in nigh lands, 
 No town delights the tourist race 
 Like Oban in the Highlands ! ' " 
 
 So sang Mrs. Pitt, and her song met with in- 
 stant approval from the children. 
 
 '' Oh, Mother! Is it all about Oban? Sing 
 us the rest, please! " 
 
 * * Wait until we are settled on the boat, Bar- 
 bara. Here we are now at the pier. Fancy ! so 
 many people at Oban, and it not yet July! It's 
 because of the fine weather, I'm sure. It's 
 well we took advantage of it and came straight 
 away north. ' ' 
 
 They made their way through the crowd on 
 the pier and up to the boat which bore the sign, 
 ^^ Staffa and lona," displayed near the gang- 
 plank. 
 
 No wonder Oban is named the ** Charing 
 Cross of the Highlands. ' ' Here meet people of 
 all countries, types, and tastes. Having se- 
 cured good places in the bow of the boat, Mrs. 
 Pitt and the others amused themselves by 
 
36 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 watching their fellow-passengers come aboard. 
 
 a There's the little Frenchman and his bride 
 from our hotel," commented Barbara, '^ — the 
 ones with such dreadful table manners ! She '11 
 be cold in that thin lavender frock, and the wind 
 will be sure to tear her chiffon hat to pieces. ' ' 
 
 *^ I think these chaps are from one of the 
 universities," said Philip, pointing out some 
 young men in knickerbockers, armed with walk- 
 ing-sticks and cameras. 
 
 ^^ Can you guess who these men are, John I " 
 inquired Mrs. Pitt. ** Do you see their rough 
 homespun clothes! If you were nearer, you 
 could hear them talking Gaelic. They're sheep 
 farmers from Mull, who have been over at Oban 
 for fair day. Here come some botanists and 
 geologists. You can always recognize the 
 former by their queer leather pouches, and the 
 latter by their hammers. It's all just exactly 
 as my song says," and Mrs. Pitt chanted two 
 more verses : 
 
 "^At Oban all tlie world you see, 
 
 The doctor and the scholar, 
 The poor man with his penny fee, 
 
 The rich man with his dollar; 
 The father with his hopeful boy, 
 
 The mother with her daughters, 
 All flock to plash about with joy 
 
 Like ducks in Oban waters. 
 
 "^For Oban is a dainty place, etc. 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 37 
 
 " ^ At Oban on the pier, how gay, 
 
 How motley and how gxand, sir, 
 With tourists all in quaint array, 
 
 About to leave the land, sir! 
 The priest who steals short holiday, 
 
 The prince who goes incog., sir. 
 The schoolboy with his dreams of play, 
 
 The sportsman with his dog, sir. 
 
 "*For Oban is a dainty place, etc' 
 
 *^ That's all I can remember/' she laughed, 
 as they demanded still more. *^ See! The 
 Captain's at the wheel, and we're away! " 
 
 i i There 's one thing that gets me, ' ' remarked 
 John, as the boat was passing through the nar- 
 row strait between Kerrera and the mainland, 
 with its many villas, ** where are all the kilts! 
 Why don't we see them anywhere? I always 
 thought they were thick up north here." 
 
 *' That's so, John. So did I," put in his 
 sister. 
 
 ** Yes, I dare say you did," Mrs. Pitt an- 
 swered; '' I suppose most people think so, and 
 it's quite a pity that they have to be disap- 
 pointed. You see, in 1746, just after the final 
 defeat of Prince Charlie at Culloden Moor, three 
 leaders, Lovat, Balmerino, and Kilmarnock, 
 were beheaded for attempting to replace the 
 Stuart line upon the throne, and many cruel 
 measures were taken to subdue the Highlanders. 
 
38 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 By what was called the Disarming Act, the 
 wearing of the kilt was forbidden by Parlia- 
 ment, which evidently believed in the old prov- 
 erb: ^ Take the feather from a man's bonnet, 
 and he won't look so proudly.' In these days 
 you may see more kilts on the Surrey heaths, 
 for example, than in all the Highlands. Thus 
 has come the saying, ' If you see a fellow with 
 a kilt in the Highlands, be sure he is either an 
 Englishman or a fool. ' ' ' 
 
 "■ I say. Mother ! it is too bad, isn't it? " said 
 Philip feelingly. 
 
 *^ Well," said Betty, ^' there's one comfort, 
 the soldiers still wear them, and sometimes lit- 
 tle boys do. I've seen one on this boat." 
 
 '' Here's something funny," she continued 
 with a laugh, as she took up the guidebook. 
 ** It says here that we're now ' beating on the 
 broad Atlantic! ' " 
 
 *^ ' Beating ' is great," shouted John. 
 ** Don't see how the water could be much 
 smoother, myself! " 
 
 '' You don't appreciate our good fortune, 
 John. This trip is likely to be a fairly rough 
 one; we're having such weather as is very 
 rarely enjoyed here. Often people cannot be 
 
 landed at Fingal's cave, but to-day Dear 
 
 me ! whatever is that? " 
 
 The sound which so startled Mrs. Pitt seemed 
 to issue from a lower deck, and its shrillness 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 39 
 
 and jangle suggested a very mueli dilapidated 
 mandolin. Somebody appeared to be practis- 
 ing for a concert, and a number of popular rag- 
 time selections were played over and over. 
 
 ^' I don't think I should much enjoy the con- 
 cert itself, and the rehearsal is positively un- 
 bearable," said Mrs. Pitt, as they pulled their 
 chairs to a distant part of the deck. 
 
 '' It's worse than that girl we saw yesterday, 
 — ^the one who sang Harry Lauder's songs while 
 the boat went through the Crinan Canal on our 
 way from Glasgow. Don't you remember, 
 John? " 
 
 ^ ' Gruess I didn 't see her. I was walking, you 
 know. Couldn't stay aboard, the old boat 
 crawled so. Was it in that mile where there 
 were nine locks'? Whew! it sure was hot walk- 
 ing, though! " and John mopped his forehead 
 again at the mere recollection of the previous 
 day. 
 
 ** Well," persevered Betty, *^ there was a girl 
 in Highland dress, with a feather in her tarn, 
 who stood at each lock as we were going 
 through. She played some tunes on a mouth 
 organ, and danced at the same time, and there 
 was a little boy who sang sometimes. It was 
 awfully queer, but people threw her pennies 
 just the same. ' ' 
 
 ^^ Yes, but the greatest was when those five 
 kids ran along by the canal-boat, — ^back there. 
 
40 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 before we had come to any locks. They didn't 
 ask for pennies ; people just threw them over to 
 the bank, and those fellows were so stupid they 
 lost lots of them in the tall grass." 
 
 ' ' And there were some sweet little girls who 
 came along and sold milk," Barbara was begin- 
 ning, when they all had to hurry to see why the 
 boat was slowing down, outside a lonely harbor 
 of the Island of Mull. 
 
 a There's a rowboat on our starboard side," 
 announced John, proud of his vocabulary of 
 nautical terms acquired during his acquaintance 
 with a tall sailor who washed the promenade 
 deck of the Oceanic. ' ' There are two men in it, 
 and they're taking some women and things otf 
 our boat. ' ' The ^ ^ things ' ' consisted of babies 
 and barrels, boxes and mailbags of all sizes and 
 weights. Leaning over the rail, John and the 
 rest watched the entire proceeding until the 
 Grenadier finally steamed away, leaving the tiny 
 boat to struggle through the swell of the steam- 
 er's wake. 
 
 ^' Wonder where those people are going," said 
 Barbara thoughtfully, as they went back to their 
 chairs. ^ ' I can see hills and valleys and woods 
 on Mull, but there's only one house in sight. 
 That seems to be a summer place, too; people 
 in white clothes came out and waved to the 
 steamer. Aren't there any towns on Mull, 
 Mother? " 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 41 
 
 ** Oh, yes, there are a few. There's Tober- 
 mory. You'll see that later; I think we stop 
 there on our return this afternoon. There are 
 very few places of enough importance to have 
 a pier, however, so the mail and passengers are 
 landed in small boats, as you just now saw. ' ' 
 
 '' Is that Harry Lauder's * Tobermory '? " 
 interrupted John with a grin. ^' He sings 
 about one, you know, but I didn't suppose it was 
 a real place." 
 
 '^ Oh, I imagine it is the same one, John. 
 Why not? " 
 
 Although they felt sure that the day was a 
 very warm one ashore, they found it delight- 
 fully cool on the water, which remained as 
 smooth as the poorest sailor could wish. On 
 went the Grenadier, with the cliffs and moun- 
 tains of Mull on one hand, and many small and 
 rocky islands on the other. At length the 
 steamer ran very close to one of these, which is 
 called Erraid, and which is pointed out as the 
 island on which David in Stevenson's ** Kid- 
 napped " was lost. 
 
 * * Oh, yes, ' ' said Philip, who greatly admired 
 Stevenson. *^ I remember, don't you? David 
 had been shipwrecked, and finally reached this 
 little island, which really is not an island at all, 
 because at low tide it is connected with the 
 mainland. ' ' 
 
 ** Oh, I've read that, too! " broke in John, 
 
42 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 who was sometimes slow in connecting one 
 thought with another. ^' David was fool 
 enough to stay there till he almost starved; 
 then some fishermen told him he could just as 
 well go ashore as not. David's old uncle had 
 him kidnapped, didn 't he % But I wouldn 't have 
 cared! He had some bully exciting times on 
 that ship! " 
 
 Very soon they came to lona, a barren island 
 with a gray old cathedral standing high in a 
 distant field. The passengers were helped into 
 two small boats, and were rowed to a pier made 
 of rough boulders. 
 
 ' ' Did you ever see such lovely white sand ! ' ' 
 cried Betty, as they stepped ashore and fell in 
 with the big party which was following the 
 guide up the village street. 
 
 lona has a population of only about one hun- 
 dred and fifty, but it can boast of having been 
 a place of some importance when St. Columba 
 landed there, perhaps as long ago as the 
 year 563. 
 
 '' He and a few other monks set sail from 
 Ireland in a small boat," said Mrs. Pitt. 
 ** They did not like to leave their country, but 
 did it because they wished to carry the Chris- 
 tian religion to these wild inhabitants of the 
 Scottish islands. Their little boat came safely 
 across the waters, and brought them first of 
 all to an island somewhat south from here. 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 43 
 
 Landing and going to the highest point, St. Co- 
 lumba shaded his eyes and looked towards the 
 west. Dim on the horizon he could just see the 
 coast of Ireland, and a great longing came over 
 him to return to his home there, where his work 
 was well established, and where he had many 
 faithful followers. Instead of this, he went 
 back to his wa-iting friends and bade them push 
 on still farther. At length the boat touched 
 Zona's shore, and here they remained, purposely 
 allowing their boat to drift away with the tide. 
 There is no glimpse of the ^ Emerald Isle ' to be 
 had from gray lona.'' 
 
 ^* But what did they do here on this lone- 
 some island, all by themselves I ' ' inquired Bar- 
 bara, who, with Betty, was walking close by her 
 mother's side. 
 
 * ' They built rough huts to live in, and a little 
 chapel of some sort. After a while St. Co- 
 lumba began to make expeditions to the main- 
 land, and people were converted to Christianity. 
 The story of these holy men who lived alone 
 on this remote island spread to distant coun- 
 tries, and other holy and learned men joined 
 them here. The years went by, and gradually 
 lona became a favored retreat for kings and 
 scholars, knights and pilgrims, — for those who 
 were ill and those who sought quiet and com- 
 fort. At one time there were one hundred and 
 fifty men living here. When not off on trips to 
 
44 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 convert pagans, St. Columba was shut up in his 
 tiny, bare cell here at lona, which he loved, 
 making copies of the Psalms and the Gospels 
 for his followers to carry out on their mission- 
 ary trips. He was at work thus on the night 
 before he died. At dark he closed the book 
 and said : ' Here I make an end. What follows 
 Baithene will write. ' There are dozens of beau- 
 tiful legends about this saint, who did much 
 good for people in other ways than religious 
 ones. ' ' 
 
 **Well, what's this, I'd like to know? It 
 wasn't here in old Columba 's day! " John did 
 not intend to be disrespectful to the saint; he 
 was simply tired for the moment of listening to 
 so much serious talk about him. 
 
 They had turned in at a little gate, where- 
 upon they found themselves face to face with a 
 shop which displayed for sale the most fascinat- 
 ing of silver wares. Close at hand was the pic- 
 turesque ruin of the former nunnery of the 
 island, the charter for which, dated 1203, may 
 still be seen in the Vatican Library at Rome. 
 But few are the tourists who have eyes for 
 the thirteenth-century ruin until they have ad- 
 mired and purchased at the twentieth-century 
 shop. Well did the guide realize this important 
 fact, — ^he who himself designs and makes the 
 silver articles! There was a long halt here; 
 this official guide, appointed by the Church of 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 45 
 
 Scotland, to which the late Duke of Argyll left 
 the ruins at lona, did not once become im- 
 patient or urge his party on. 
 
 *^ This is a dandy! '' cried John, picking up 
 a scarf-pin made after the pattern of the old 
 Celtic swords, — the swords which are so often 
 seen on ancient tombs. ^ * Let 's buy it, Betty ! ' ' 
 
 * ^ I simply must have this little silver cross ! ' ' 
 his sister was just then exclaiming. ^ ^ The man 
 says it's a copy of St. Martin's cross, near the 
 cathedral. We're going to see it now. He says 
 there were once three hundred and sixty crosses 
 at lona, but there are only two whole ones now. 
 It's only eight and six, and it's real silver! " 
 
 Then, the bills having been paid, on they went 
 past the nunnery, with its crumbling walls and 
 arches, up a narrow lane between high walls, 
 where the ancient McLean Cross still stands, 
 until they came to the oddest cemetery which 
 they had ever seen. 
 
 In a rough field is a tiny chapel supposed to 
 have been erected by Queen Margaret Canmore, 
 Scotland's sainted queen, who lived in the 
 eleventh century; and not far away are two 
 groups of flat gravestones, each in two long 
 rows. 
 
 ^ ^ There are forty-eight Scottish kings buried 
 here, so 'tis said, four Kings of Ireland, eight 
 Norwegian princes, several royal infants, and 
 many Lords of the Isles, bishops, abbots, priors. 
 
46 JOHN AND BETTY^S 
 
 and chiefs of various powerful clans, such as 
 McLeods, McLeans, Mackinnons, Macquarries, 
 
 and '^ On and on went the guide with his 
 
 astonishing facts. 
 
 ' ' See the lovely old ship on that one, ' ' whis- 
 pered Betty, pointing as she spoke. *^ It's like 
 a Eoman galley." 
 
 ^^ Yes," replied the guide. '^ It marks the 
 grave of a famous pirate. And this stone cov- 
 ers a McLean, whose ghost rides a black horse, 
 carries his head under his arm, and is always 
 seen before a death occurs in the McLean fam- 
 ily. The McLeans owned lona for centuries, 
 you know." 
 
 ' ' Give me that fellow without a head ! ' ' cried 
 John. 
 
 ** Betty, do you realize that King Duncan is 
 buried here, — ^he whom Macbeth murdered? " 
 
 *^ Eeally! " gasped poor Betty, who was al- 
 most speechless by this time. 
 
 ^* And," continued the guide, *^ we also have 
 here the grave of King Coil of Ayrshire, — * Old 
 King Cole ' of the song, you know," he re- 
 minded them, seeing that they failed to be prop- 
 erly impressed. ^^ Now I'll have to ask you to 
 step this way; your time is limited." 
 
 lona Cathedral is rather disappointing, espe- 
 cially from the outside, because of very recent 
 restorations which make it appear almost mod- 
 em; but inside there are some exceedingly an- 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 47 
 
 cient arches and pillars which convince one 
 that the building really was erected in the early- 
 part of the thirteenth century. St. Martin's 
 cross, which some believe to have remained in 
 the same position, near the Cathedral's western 
 door, for about one thousand years, is altogether 
 delightful, both in its beautiful Celtic design 
 and in the exquisite grayish-green effect which 
 the dampness and the clinging lichens have 
 given it. 
 
 '' How is it possible for the cross to have been 
 so marvelously preserved? " Mrs. Pitt asked 
 the guide. 
 
 " It's lona's climate, madam. We have no 
 snow nor frost here in winter, only terrible 
 winds. I know, for I've lived at lona all my 
 life." 
 
 The guide escorted his party back to the pier 
 and assisted them into the rowboats. Arrived 
 once again on board the Grenadier^ they found 
 lunch awaiting them in the saloon; no sooner 
 had they finished than the strange island of 
 Statfa came into view. And stranger and 
 stranger did it appear as they drew nearer. 
 
 '' I think it must look like some heathen 
 temple, don't you," said Betty; ^^an old temple 
 on the Nile, you know? " 
 
 Staffa's steep cliffs rise abruptly from the 
 water, and they are formed of innumerable 
 pillars which march, one after the other, all 
 
48 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 around that part of the island. The top which 
 these pillars support is quite flat, and has green 
 grass and a few sheep grazing there. 
 
 ^ ^ Looks like a great whopping toadstool with 
 millions of stems/' remarked John. 
 
 Once more their steamer was at a standstill, 
 and two large lifeboats came to take the 
 passengers to FingaPs Cave. 
 
 '^ Who was that fellow Fingal, anyhow? 
 Why did he live in a cave 1 ' ' 
 
 ^' Oh, Fingal was a famous giant, John. You 
 hear a great deal about him in both the Scotch 
 and the Irish fairy tales. There was a rival 
 giant, too, who once challenged him to combat. 
 Fingal was more than ready for his enemy, but 
 how was he to cross the Irish Sea to meet him? 
 It was finally agreed that they should build a 
 great bridge between the two countries; so 
 Fingal began on the Irish shore, while the other 
 giant worked at this end. Here is all that is 
 left of one giant's work, and the Giant's Cause- 
 way in Ireland alone remains of Fingal 's labor. 
 Both have these same queer pillars, each of a 
 different shape, you know." 
 
 Staffa means *^ the isle of columns," and in 
 it are six caves, of which Fingal 's is the largest. 
 The men rowed their passengers to the mouth 
 of this most wonderful of the caves, with its 
 huge, high entrance overhung with patches of a 
 kind of brilliant yellow lichen ; here people left 
 
St. Martin's Cross, which some believe to haye remained in 
 
 THE SAME position FOR ABOUT ONE THOUSAND YEARS, — Page 47. 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 49 
 
 the boats and entered ttie cave on foot by a 
 narrow and slippery path over these rocks, or 
 broken-off pillars. 
 
 * * I never saw such green water ! ' ' announced 
 Betty emphatically, stopping and peering into 
 the cave as far as she could see. * ' I don't think 
 it's very beautiful, really," she added; '' its 
 roof and sides are so pointed and rough and 
 queer. Are they what you call stalactites 1 ' ' 
 
 * * Evidently you don 't share the point of view 
 of a certain Frejichman who once visited 
 Staffa," began Mrs. Pitt, holding fast to the 
 iron rail to prevent herself from slipping. 
 ^^ He was so overcome by the grandeur of this 
 cave that he fell down upon his knees and 
 thanked God who had created it." 
 
 ** I thought the waves would be pounding in 
 here and dashing up over the rocks and making 
 no end of a booming noise," said Philip. 
 
 ^^ Yes," agreed John, ^^ I thought it would be 
 more exciting somehow. I wish the water 
 wasn't so smooth to-day; I wish the boat really 
 would ^ beat on the broad Atlantic. ' Come on ; 
 let's climb around outside." 
 
 The children enjoyed the scramble over the 
 uneven pillars; they chased each other, ran 
 races, and each sat seriously down in Fingal's 
 Wishing Chair to make his three dearest wishes. 
 Climbing slowly along in the hot sun, Mrs. Pitt 
 reached the rowboat before the others, whom 
 
50 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 the big boatmen threatened to leave behind, so 
 long did they linger. 
 
 The next few hours were quietly spent upon 
 the boat, watching the small white birds which 
 flew in procession over the water, numbers 
 of long-necked black birds which performed 
 truly remarkable feats of swimming and diving, 
 and, best of all, some very large fish which, 
 from time to time, lashed their great tails above 
 the waves. John insisted that they were 
 whales, and this, of course, caused considerable 
 excitement among the party. A stop was made 
 at the pleasant, sheltered harbor of Tobermory, 
 and soon the square pile of Duart Castle, high 
 on its rocky point, was reached. 
 
 '^ It was the chief stronghold of the Mc- 
 Leans,'' explained Mrs. Pitt. ^^ They were my 
 mother's people, you know, Betty, and I am very 
 proud of them all. Of course, there were some 
 great thieves and villains among them, but I 
 admire those, too. These McLeans of Duart 
 always did things on such a grand scale! If 
 they were going to steal sheep or cattle belong- 
 ing to some foe, they did not bother to carry 
 away a few ; they took hundreds, — droves, whole 
 flocks I Ah! they were brave people, — ^the 
 Duart McLeans! " 
 
 They had now passed the ruined castle, and 
 a lighthouse was in sight on their left. 
 
 ** It is Lismore Light," Mrs. Pitt went on 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 51 
 
 enthusiastically, " and the Lady Rock close by 
 is connected with these same ancestors of mine, 
 the McLeans. No, John, I know; we can't see 
 the rock at high tide, but it's there where you 
 see the iron beacon. One of the Duart McLeans 
 took his wife to the Lady Rock and left her 
 there for the tide to sweep her away. Tri- 
 umphantly he set out for Inveraray to announce 
 her death to her brother, the Duke of Argyll; 
 but, even as the two men talked together, the 
 lady herself appeared in their presence. She 
 had been rescued by some fishermen. Yes," 
 laughed the loyal descendant of the McLeans, 
 " I even glory in that deed! His method was 
 such a bold and original one that it only added 
 to the clan's fame! " 
 
 '' Hope the Duke did something to him that 
 served him right ! ' ' 
 
 ^* Oh, he had his deserts, John; never fear. 
 He made his escape to Edinburgh, but his wife's 
 second brother, Campbell of Cawdor, followed 
 him there and killed him. But see, we're op- 
 posite Dunollie Castle, and Oban is already in 
 sight." 
 
 Oban was just as gay and just as radiant at 
 six o'clock in the evening as it had been when 
 they left it at eight o'clock the same morning. 
 Its villas are built in long terraces on various 
 levels of the hill which rises at the back of the 
 town ; and above them all is the strange, unfin- 
 
52 JOHN AND BETTY 
 
 ished Coliseum-like building, called *' McCaig's 
 Folly. '^ This eccentric but kind-hearted in- 
 dividual had the building started to provide 
 abundant work for the men of his native town, 
 but it was never completed. 
 
 *^ The street is crowded now,'' cried John; 
 *^ I hear some pipers! Come on! " 
 
 All things considered, Oban is a delightful 
 place to which to return after a long day's 
 jaunt. 
 
CHAPTER THREE 
 
 IN THE WESTERN HIGHLANDS 
 
 '^ . . And he was away so long, fighting in 
 foreign wars, that his wife thought, of course, 
 he was dead. First she built this beautiful big 
 Kilchurn Castle with a keep five whole stories 
 high, and then finally she decided to marry. 
 But while the castle was filled with guests who 
 were there for the wedding feast, a beggar ap- 
 peared at the entrance. They let him come in, 
 and offered him some wine, but he said he could 
 not drink their healths unless the bride came 
 to pour him his cupful. She did, you know, and 
 when the beggar gave her back the cup, in the 
 bottom of it she saw a gold ring, all set with 
 heaps of precious stones. It had belonged to 
 her husband, and she looked up and saw that 
 the beggar was her husband, — Colin Campbell 
 of Glenorchy.'' 
 
 *^ Well,'' demanded John, ^^ go on. Sis! 
 What happened then? " 
 
 ** But, John, — the book doesn't say." A 
 glance at Betty's face would almost have made 
 one think that she imagined herself responsible 
 
 53 
 
54 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 for this very unsatisfactory ending of the 
 tale. 
 
 As the little boat, named the Countess of 
 Breadalbanej waited a long time at this end of 
 Loch Awe, to which the Oban train had brought 
 them, they had an excellent chance to study the 
 picturesque old castle pile. It stands on a rocky 
 promontory, which is sometimes an island and 
 sometimes connected with the shore by a bit of 
 marshy land; and all about it are mountains, 
 Glenstrae and Glenorchy and Ben Cruachan, 
 behind their veils of lavender gauze. 
 
 *^ All this Loch Awe country once belonged 
 to the clan Macgregor," said Mrs. Pitt, as she 
 fanned herself with yesterday's Glasgow paper, 
 ^ ^ but the Campbells drove them all out ; the last 
 of the Macgregors were actually hunted along 
 these shores and mountain sides, where they 
 had made their home for so long. Dr. John 
 Ley den has written a splendid poem about that. 
 You especially would like it, John. Part of it 
 runs like this : 
 
 " ^ In the vale of Glenorchy the night breeze was sighing 
 O'er the tombs where the ancient Macgregors are lying; 
 Green are their graves by their soft murmuring river, 
 But the name of Macgregor has perished forever/ " 
 
 '^ That sounds like what happened at Glen- 
 coe, ' ' remarked Barbara, ^ ^ but there they were 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 55 
 
 Macdonalds who were killed, weren't they, 
 Mother? '' 
 
 * ' Yes, Barbara, the Macdonalds, men, women, 
 and children, were slain during a blinding snow- 
 storm in lonely Glencoe Pass. I suppose it is 
 one of the most terrible massacres in all his- 
 tory, far too terrible for you children to hear 
 its details. The Macdonald chief had been pre- 
 vented, by weather or circumstances, from tak- 
 ing his oath of allegiance to the king within the 
 required number of days, and this slight fault 
 was seized upon as excuse for an attempt to de- 
 stroy the whole clan of Glencoe Macdonalds. 
 Influenced by certain Scotch enemies of the clan, 
 who greatly desired the massacre. King Wil- 
 liam signed the order for the attack. It 
 is one of the most disgraceful blots upon his 
 reign. ' ' 
 
 '' There! We're starting away at last,'' ex- 
 claimed Philip, '' and there will be a breezOo 
 It is warm, you know. ' ' 
 
 It certainly was a relief to feel the boat glid- 
 ing rapidly over the lake, which lay perfectly 
 smooth beneath the hot sunshine. There were 
 very lovely views on all sides, views of wooded 
 shores, of lofty mountains, and of numerous 
 pretty little islands. 
 
 Pointing to one of them, Mrs. Pitt said, * * Ac- 
 cording to a tradition which dates from the time 
 of the old poet, Ossian, it was on that island 
 
56 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 that a dragon kept guard over the apples of 
 immortal youth. 
 
 ^' There's such a quaint legend about the 
 origin of Loch Awe, Betty," she soon went on, 
 after they had praised a particularly fine view 
 of Ben Cruachan. ^^ I wonder if you have 
 heard it. A spring, high on the side of this old 
 giant mountain, was in charge of the fairies, 
 who every night put a cover securely over it. 
 But on one eventful night, a lovesick maiden, 
 pausing to drink there, never thought to replace 
 the cover. In the morning the spring had 
 overflowed the whole valley, which has ever 
 since been known as Loch Awe.'' 
 
 Very soon the boat drew up at a little pier 
 which was quite deserted except for one lone 
 boatman and a dog. Not a house was to be 
 seen, but two tired tramps sat resting by the 
 roadside. 
 
 << Why in the world should we stop here? " 
 laughed Barbara; and John called out, 
 '' What's this place. Mad " (John had such 
 a knack of finding out people's names without 
 asking them at all!) 
 
 The old Scotchman on the pier was busy with 
 his ropes; never did he so much as look up 
 from his work, but he answered John's ques- 
 tion by two gruff words which certainly did 
 sound like ^ ^ New York. ' ' 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 57 
 
 ** Do you hear that, Betty? '' shouted John 
 in high glee. ^ ' He says this place is New York ! 
 There isn't a single house in sight! Ho! Ho! 
 that 's a good one ! New York ! He just ought 
 to see our New York! " 
 
 As the boat moved away, the boatman looked 
 straight down at John with something suspi- 
 ciously like a twinkle in his eye. This was a 
 small thing, surely, but it is still troubling John. 
 He can never feel quite sure whether that old 
 Scotchman might not have been poking fun at 
 him. 
 
 ** I say! '' cried Philip, as he felt a cold nose 
 touch his hand, ^' the dog came aboard; he 
 wanted to leave New York. Fancy that, 
 John!'' 
 
 After hurriedly exploring the boat, sniffing 
 about in corners, and smelling the boots of the 
 passengers, the little whitish mongrel lay quietly 
 down on the floor between Philip and John. He 
 was ever watchful, however, and when the next 
 stopping-place was reached, he eagerly jumped 
 ashore, where he stood overseeing the unloading 
 of some boxes and barrels. Just at the last mo- 
 ment, a misunderstanding man, taking the dog 
 quite oif his guard, tossed him once again 
 aboard the boat. So surprised was this com- 
 panion of old Mac's that he lost his chance of 
 leaping back to the pier. Suddenly realizing 
 what a calamity had befallen him, he stood upon 
 
58 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 the seat, put his front paws on the railing, and 
 howled. 
 
 Betty was much concerned. ^^ What can we 
 do about it? " she said. '' We're carrying him 
 farther and farther away from his home. 
 Wouldn't the captain go back? It isn't far, 
 truly!" 
 
 But Mrs. Pitt advised her not to appeal to 
 the captain. * ' That dog can be trusted to find 
 his own way home." 
 
 At the narrow, lower end of Loch Awe, they 
 left the boat and ate their luncheon at the odd 
 little Ford Hotel, close by. The six or eight 
 guests were seated at a long table, at the foot of 
 which a typical old Scotch serving-man carved 
 the meats. A younger man was there to assist 
 him in his efforts to satisfy the appetites of the 
 hungry tourists. 
 
 The cold meats vanished with remarkable 
 speed, and then the old Scotchman, who wore 
 crisp side-whiskers, tiptoed to the left of each 
 guest, tilted his head to one side, and, with an 
 air of infinite pride and importance, inquired 
 whether he would have ' ' stewed rhubarb or 
 stewed gooseberries." 
 
 Mrs. Pitt only looked puzzled when Betty ex- 
 claimed tragically, ''• dear! the gooseberries 
 are always so sour that they pucker me all up. 
 I don't like rhubarb, either; I did think maybe 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 59 
 
 we had seen the last of that when we came to 
 the Highlands ! " 
 
 '^ You can't expect to find much variety in 
 such a remote inn, Betty, ' ' said Mrs. Pitt, help- 
 ing herself to a large portion of the despised 
 stewed rhubarb and custard. 
 
 ^' I'll back you up, Sister," said John, a 
 little aside. ^' I'd give all the pennies and half- 
 pennies in my pocket for some real ice-cream! 
 My, but it would taste good on this hot day! 
 They don't know what they miss over here. All 
 they care about is tea, tea, tea, — and stewed 
 things! " 
 
 At the door a big motor car, ^ ^ like the sight- 
 seeing autos at home," as John remarked, 
 waited to carry the passengers over the twenty- 
 five miles of rough mountain road between Loch 
 Awe and Oban. As the car lumbered along, 
 they talked of clans and Highland chiefs. Mrs. 
 Pitt was forced to raise her voice that the others 
 might hear above the rumble of the noisy engine 
 and the whirr of the mountain wind in their 
 ears. 
 
 ^^ How did there happen to be so many clans 
 and chiefs! " Betty inquired thoughtfully. 
 
 '^ Yes, Mother," put in Philip; ^' and who 
 was the Lord of the Isles ! ' ' 
 
 i i Tjiere are rather long and puzzling answers 
 to those questions, but I'll try to make them 
 clear to you," began Mrs. Pitt, in her good- 
 
6o JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 natured way. ** First of all, you must under- 
 stand that the court of the Scottish kings had 
 long been held in the Highlands; it was Mal- 
 colm Canmore who, in 1066, chose to live at 
 Dunfermline, which decision made this more 
 southern place of first importance in the coun- 
 try. Malcolm had been much in England before 
 he came to the throne, and consequently he 
 spoke the Anglo-Saxon tongue as well as his 
 native Gaelic. When the King married the 
 English princess Margaret, Anglo-Saxon be- 
 came the common language at court. Now, you 
 see, it was natural that the Highlanders should 
 suffer very much from these two changes. They 
 no longer had the protection of the king's pres- 
 ence. He was too far away to understand their 
 needs, and the laws, often unjust and ex- 
 pressed in unfamiliar language, could not be 
 enforced." 
 
 '* And in those days it took longer to send 
 letters, didn't it. Mother? Of course, they had 
 to go over mountains and across lakes; and 
 there were no trains, no telegraphs, not even 
 postmen." 
 
 ^^ Yes, dear, you are quite right. There were 
 certainly none of those things. It is impossible 
 for us to appreciate what very effectual barriers 
 these valleys and mountains and lakes made. 
 Not only were the Highlanders prevented from 
 communicating with the Lowlanders, but each 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 6i 
 
 clan found it very difficult to hold intercourse 
 with neighboring clans. And thus you can 
 readily see how a leader was needed for each 
 clan, some one who could make wise laws and 
 see that they were obeyed. The people simply 
 allowed the mountains to separate them into lit- 
 tle independent communities, and in each of 
 these there arose a man of unusual courage 
 who naturally became their chief. And so it 
 was that each clan, or big family, had its own 
 laws, its own customs, its own plaid or tartan 
 of chosen colors, its own war cry, called a slo- 
 gan. The loyalty of the clansmen to their chief 
 is illustrated by many stories of the life of those 
 days. ' ' 
 
 *^ Tell us some of them,*' put in Philip, as 
 Mrs. Pitt paused to tighten her veil. It was of 
 pale blue chiffon, and it looked very pretty as 
 the wind caught it and held it out straight. 
 
 " Well, here is one instance. A certain 
 James Menzies of Culdares had been taken as a 
 prisoner to London, and there condemned for 
 his share in the rebellions of 1715. He was par- 
 doned, but, because of this dangerous experi- 
 ence, was prevented from offering his services 
 in the cause of Prince Charlie, thirty years 
 later. Wishing in some way to show his sym- 
 pathy with the Young Pretender, Menzies 
 ordered a trusty member of his clan to take 
 a fine horse as a present to the Prince. The 
 
62 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 clansman safely delivered the horse, but on his 
 return journey he was suspected at Carlisle, 
 taken prisoner, and sentenced to immediate ex- 
 ecution unless he would confess from whom the 
 horse had come. The fellow knew too well what 
 serious trouble such a disclosure would bring 
 upon his master, and he preferred to lose his 
 life. When given one last chance to confess, 
 John MacNaughton asked those about him if 
 they really thought him such a villain as to be- 
 tray his master • and, besides, said he, if he did 
 do so, it would only mean that he would ever 
 afterwards be scorned and shunned and hunted 
 out of his glen by his fellow clansmen." 
 
 ''■ He was a dandy! " commended John. 
 
 ' ' Oh, you were going to tell us who the Lords 
 of the Isles were, ' ' remarked Betty, remember- 
 ing Philip's questions. 
 
 '' They were chiefs of the clan Macdonald, 
 who, from the almost mythical times, when the 
 Norsemen were driven away, until the sixteenth 
 century, ruled over these western islands. The 
 story is that they were descended from a certain 
 Somerlid, whose father, Godfrey, was King of 
 Argyle. Somerlid, you must know, was the 
 youngest, handsomest, and bravest of the King's 
 four sons ; but, much to his father 's disappoint- 
 ment, he was very lazy. He would fill his days 
 with nothing but pleasure; while his dutiful 
 brothers were fighting, conquering new terri- 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 63 
 
 tory, or running away with island heiresses, 
 Somerlid was only happily hunting and fishing. 
 But all the while old King Godfrey suspected 
 that there might be more in this idle son of his 
 than had yet been seen ; and so it proved. About 
 this time the men of the western isles found 
 themselves without a chief, and at length de- 
 cided to invite Somerlid to come and be their 
 leader. A few chosen men were accordingly 
 sent to Godfrey's court, only to be told that 
 they must go out into the wilds to find young 
 Somerlid. The fisherman ceased his labors just 
 long enough to hear that the Islesmen desired to 
 make him their chief; he was silent for a few 
 moments, and then said: ^ Islesmen, there's a 
 newly-run salmon in the black pool, yonder. If 
 I catch him, I shall go with you as your chief; 
 if I catch him not, I shall remain where I 
 am. ' 
 
 " Breathlessly the Islesmen watched Somer- 
 lid 's movements, for they wanted very much to 
 carry him back to Skye with them as their chief. 
 Loud were their shouts when they saw the sil- 
 very salmon safely landed upon the river bank, 
 and with great rejoicing they put Somerlid 
 aboard their largest galley, and sailed away 
 with him to Skye. ' ' 
 
 ** And then was he a good chief? " asked 
 Betty. 
 
 * * From that day, ' ' said Mrs. Pitt, in her most 
 
64 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 impressive tones, ' ' Somerlid was the most war- 
 like and energetic of chiefs. He burned and 
 ravaged and fought; he conquered island after 
 island, and married the daughter of the King 
 of the Isle of Man, thus adding to his wide 
 domains. He became a great chief and the first 
 Lord of the Isles ; from him all were descended 
 who bore that title, and claimed a right to these 
 vast western territories. Partly because of 
 their wild, mountainous, and remote pos- 
 sessions, which were difficult of attack, and 
 partly because of the great numbers of their 
 brave and loyal clansmen, these chiefs were for 
 centuries like veritable petty kings, who paid 
 practically no heed to the King of Scotland's 
 laws and acts, frequently taking sides against 
 him in time of war. History is full of the con- 
 tinual strife between the kings and these chiefs, 
 which finally ended in the addition of Lord of 
 the Isles to the various titles of Scotland's king. 
 It will interest you to know, ' ' she added, * ' that 
 that very name. Lord of the Isles, is even now 
 among the titles of the little Prince of Wales, 
 and that there is a special tartan which only 
 he and the Macdonald chief have the right to 
 wear. But, dearie me ! We must stop this talk 
 and see the country we are going through. I 
 believe we are nearing Melfort Pass." 
 
 This celebrated mountain pass is a fine bit 
 of Highland scenery, a deep, heavily-wooded 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 6s 
 
 ravine, througli the bottom of which a dark 
 stream tumbles along over the rocks, now and 
 then breaking into foaming yellowish-white 
 falls. The road is very narrow, and a danger- 
 ous precipice is at one side, but the driver chat- 
 ted carelessly with his passengers while his 
 motor car shot around sharp curves in truly 
 marvelous fashion. 
 
 * ^ It would be a nice mess if we met a fellow 
 coming the other way! " exclaimed John, just 
 rescuing his camera as a particularly violent 
 lurch almost sent it out into the road. The rest 
 of the party said nothing, but they held fast 
 to the nearest support. Mrs. Pitt was grateful 
 when the pass was left behind, and they came to 
 an open road. But still the car creaked and 
 gasped up hill, swerved along the few level bits 
 of road, and flew down hill in a way to make 
 one's heart stand still. 
 
 *^ Is there a school near here! '' Betty asked 
 wonderingly, by and by. 
 
 They had just passed a queer little group of 
 school-children, trudging along the steep road. 
 Most of them, boys and girls alike, were wear- 
 ing scanty, ragged kilts, over which was some 
 sort of tattered jacket, or outer garment. In 
 spite of their rags, most of them carried square 
 bags for their books, made of shiny leather, and 
 they all shouted a greeting and stood in the 
 middle of the road, with the evident intention 
 
66 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 of getting the very last possible view of the 
 clumsy motor car. 
 
 Once or twice the Oban car overtook lone 
 men who leaned upon staves and fanned them- 
 selves with their battered hats, as they paused 
 a moment to shift the weight of a heavy pack. 
 Sometimes whole families, their household 
 goods beside them, sat resting by the road. 
 Occasionally a woman was filling her pail at a 
 wayside spring. There were very few huts, 
 and even fewer tiny hamlets, through this dis- 
 trict ; but when a thatched roof was seen, it actu- 
 ally seemed to tone in with the exquisite, soft 
 lavender tints of the mountains. There was 
 one wonderful hedge of vivid yellow laburnums ; 
 there were many stately larches ; and the motor 
 car traveled but few miles of road from which a 
 blue loch was not visible. On and on they sped 
 through this beautiful Highland country, until 
 late afternoon brought them into Oban. 
 
 The following morning poor Betty was 
 obliged to visit the dentist. However, she as- 
 sured Mrs. Pitt, who went with her, that she 
 ^* didn't mind so very much, really, because 
 there was such a lovely view of the bay from 
 his window. She could see all the yachts, dec- 
 orated with lots of flags in honor of somebody 
 who was there. The dentist didn't know who." 
 
 In the meantime the others had shopped. 
 John wanted some postcards and a supply of 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 67 
 
 films for Ms beloved camera ; Barbara desired a 
 dainty Shetland shawl of clinging gray, and 
 Philip was in search of a new electric battery 
 for a little ^ ^ bug-light ' ' which John had given 
 him. Everything was easily found at the 
 town's excellent shops, that is, everything but 
 the electric battery for Philip. Oban is not suf- 
 ficiently up to date to supply that. 
 
 In the afternoon they took one of the boats 
 which make the short trip to Dunstaffnage 
 Castle, where the famous Stone of Scone was 
 kept for many years, but first they admired 
 pretty Dunollie Castle, on a high rocky point 
 overlooking Oban Bay. They had hardly no- 
 ticed it when they had passed it in returning 
 from Staffa and lona. Now its square keep 
 and outer walls, solid green in their close cov- 
 ering of ivy, charmed them. 
 
 ^* What's that queer, green post. Mother, 
 there, on the road, beneath the castle 1 ' ' 
 
 ^' That, Barbara, is what is called the ^ Clach- 
 na-can,' a great pillar made of pudding-stone 
 and entirely covered with thick ivy, like the 
 castle walls. ' Clach-na-can ' means Dog's Pil- 
 lar, and Fingal, the giant, is supposed to have 
 tied his dog. Bran, to this stake. The castle 
 was a place of importance in the seventh cen- 
 tury," she continued, ^^ but it probably was 
 most famous in Bruce 's time, when it belonged 
 to John of Lome, an enemy of the Bruce, who 
 
68 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 more than once defeated that King. The present 
 owner of the castle, who lives close by, is Cap- 
 tain Alexander John Macdougal, a descendant 
 of the ancient Lords of Lome. The chief treas- 
 ure of this family is the celebrated Brooch of 
 Lome, which was snatched from the shoulder 
 of the Bruce during a fierce combat. Scott has 
 beautifully described the brooch in his poem, 
 * The Lord of the Isles,' which you have prob- 
 ably never read. He calls it 
 
 "*. . . . The broach of burning gold, 
 That clasps the Chieftain's mantle-fold, 
 Wrought and chased with rare device, 
 Studded fair with gems of price, '" 
 
 ** I suppose it was one of those great big 
 pins that they used to fasten the plaid over the 
 shoulder; IVe seen pictures of them.'' Mrs. 
 Pitt was just nodding assent to Betty's remark 
 when they came in sight of the dark walls of 
 old Dunstaffnage Castle, once the home of Scot- 
 tish kings. 
 
 Tradition says that 
 
 "Unless the fates be faithless grown, 
 And prophet's voice be vain, 
 Where'er is found this sacred stone, 
 The Scottish race shall reign." 
 
 This Stone of Scone is said to have been Jacob 's 
 pillow. From the Holy Land it was carried to 
 Spain, and later to Ireland. It then came to 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 69 
 
 lona, where St. Colnmba perhaps also used it 
 as a pillow. From lona it was brought for 
 safe-keeping to Dunstaffnage, coronation place 
 of the Scottish kings, and here it remained un- 
 til Kenneth Macalpine took it to Scone. 
 
 ^ * And Edward I carried it to Westminster 
 Abbey, where it's been ever since, and King 
 George V has just been crowned on it,'' Betty 
 said, with an air of finality. 
 
 The castle is built on an enormous rock 
 which forms part of its dark old walls; it is 
 massive, but not a very beautiful ruin. The 
 peninsula on which it stands is wooded and juts 
 out into Loch Etive. 
 
 ^^ What's that funny little building?" in- 
 quired Betty, pointing to a very commonplace 
 structure inside the castle court. *^ It truly 
 looks almost new." 
 
 A woman who sold picture postcards close by 
 answered that it had been built for a museum, 
 but no further steps had been taken because of 
 * * the lawsuit. ' ' 
 
 ^^ What lawsuit? " asked Mrs. Pitt promptly. 
 
 * * Do ye no ken that the castle belongs to the 
 Campbells of Dunstaffnage, and that the Duke 
 of Argyll, who is a Campbell, too, is laying his 
 claim to it? " 
 
 /^ So the strife between the different clans 
 and between various branches of the same clan 
 still continues," said Mrs. Pitt thoughtfully. 
 
70 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 ** It seems strange that times have changed so 
 little, doesn't it I Only the other day I remem- 
 ber to have read that a feud which has lasted 
 for several hundred years had just been settled 
 at a dinner in Glasgow. It was some question 
 of chieftainship of the clan Macdonald. ' * 
 
 Mrs. Pitt then took the young people to see 
 the little Gothic chapel, now unroofed and fall- 
 ing to decay, which was erected about the year 
 1250, as was the present castle. It stands in a 
 pine grove, at some distance, and its crumbling 
 walls and broken tombs and monuments are 
 overgrown with weeds or covered with mould, 
 yet, 'tis said that some pieces of the ancient 
 Scottish regalia were kept here in charge of an 
 old servant until some time in the eighteenth 
 century. 
 
 ^' Where are they now! " asked Philip. 
 
 '' Dishonest servants stole and later sold 
 them,'' remarked Mrs. Pitt grimly. 
 
 They found places on one of the big tourist 
 coaches from Oban, and, driving across the wet 
 sands at low tide connecting Dunstalfnage with 
 the mainland, they rolled through a gate which 
 was opened by two little bright-eyed girls. Not 
 far away, down the road, is Connel Ferry, at the 
 outlet of Loch Etive. 
 
 '^ Falls of Lora! " sang out their driver. 
 ^* Falls of Lora ! " and every one began to clam- 
 ber down. 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 71 
 
 "• What's that? '' asked Betty curiously. 
 
 ^' A very famous waterfall about which that 
 same poet Ossian wrote," answered Mrs. Pitt 
 patiently. 
 
 But this was too much for John, who had done 
 all the sightseeing he could agreeably endure in 
 one day. 
 
 ^* The fellow who talked about the apples of 
 immortal youth? '' demanded he with much 
 scorn. *^ Well, I wouldn't give much for him, 
 anyhow ! Looks to me like a wide river rolling 
 over a few little stones ! Falls of Lora ! Come 
 on back to the coach ! ' ' 
 
 Obediently they all followed John, climbed to 
 their places, and calmly awaited the departure 
 for Oban. 
 
CHAPTER FOUR 
 
 THE MISTY ISLE OP SKYE 
 
 *^ Now we're going to catch it! It's raining 
 like fun, and the fog's all down over the moun- 
 tains! I tell you what, it's going to be rough 
 before we get to Portree! " 
 
 Mrs. Pitt and the two girls were writing 
 postcards in the cabin when John came in from 
 the upper deck, his wet ^* slicker " steaming, 
 to give them the above discouraging news. 
 
 Betty promptly put down her pen and went 
 to the porthole to see how much John's report 
 was exaggerated. 
 
 ** It's the worst night we've had on our whole 
 trip so far ! ' ' she announced in despairing 
 tones. ** And the Captain says we're about two 
 hours late ! Botheration ! ' ' 
 
 ** Well," advised Mrs. Pitt sagely, *' we may 
 as well finish our writing. We've plenty of 
 time. ' ' 
 
 ^ ' Seems like two years since we were at Oban 
 this morning! " muttered Barbara, the usually 
 serene and unruffled, slowly sticking a half- 
 penny stamp on each of her picture cards. 
 
 72 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 73 
 
 Having left Oban at seven o 'clock on the most 
 perfect of mornings, they had sailed for hours, 
 quite content to be dodging in and out between 
 the mainland and the innumerable islands, 
 large and small. The smooth sea had been 
 a lovely melting blue, sometimes changing to 
 sapphire and opal where it ran far inland among 
 the mountains; and as for those mountains, 
 they were indescribably beautiful. Most of 
 them were rugged and sharp-peaked, while 
 others sloped gently down to the water's edge; 
 but all were alike wrapped in that veil which 
 gives them the look of velvet, shading in tone 
 from soft brown to softer heliotrope. Stretch- 
 ing far, far away in the distance, they looked 
 ** like clouds that somebody has caught and 
 held there," as Betty expressed it. 
 
 Soon after passing pretty Dunollie Castle, 
 they had steamed once again into Tobermory 
 Bay, where the Duke of Argyll has some divers 
 at work searching for sunken treasure, which 
 he believes may have been there since the wreck 
 of one of the great vessels of the Spanish 
 Armada. A little later they had rounded Ard- 
 namurchan Point, the most western bit of Scot- 
 land's mainland; then they sighted Eigg, on 
 which island there is a cave into which the 
 revengeful McLeods once drove many Mac- 
 donalds, and, building a fire at the cave 's mouth, 
 conveniently suffocated their troublesome ene- 
 
74 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 mies. Now, at five o'clock on this same day 
 wMch had so completely changed to one of 
 threatening storm, they were looking at Castle 
 Moil, a jagged black point piercing the gray 
 mist. 
 
 ^' It is said to have been inhabited by a Dan- 
 ish princess, called ^ Saucy Mary,' " the guide- 
 book told them. ^^ She stretched a great chain 
 across the sound and allowed no vessel to pass 
 without paying toll." 
 
 They finally landed at Portree, on the island 
 of Skye, about seven o'clock that evening, in a 
 characteristic downpour. It was perfectly easy 
 to see that the natives were entirely at home 
 in such weather. On the little wharf was a 
 considerable crowd, visiting fishermen and 
 hunters, townspeople giving friends a hearty 
 though necessarily a damp welcome, and a large 
 proportion of Portree's inhabitants assembled 
 for enjoyment of the one exciting happening 
 of the day. Dodging the drenched loiterers, 
 Mrs. Pitt and the others, hurrying out into the 
 mud and rain, climbed a steep, slippery path 
 which led to the Eoyal Hotel, at the top of the 
 bluff. 
 
 '^ You needn't have worried about our not 
 getting any rooms. Mother," remarked Bar- 
 bara; ^' only one lady and gentleman are com- 
 ing up from the boat, and I don't believe there 
 are many staying here for the week-end. ' ' 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 75 
 
 Sure enougli, only two English gentlemen, off 
 on a tramping trip, and the French couple who 
 had arrived with them on the Oban boat, assem- 
 bled for dinner. Afterwards Betty stood long 
 at the window of the cold, dingy drawing-room, 
 looking out at the deserted village street and 
 the gray, storm-swept bay below. 
 
 "" I never felt so far away from things in all 
 my life," said she, and Barbara was not sure 
 there were not one or two tears in her eyes. 
 
 However, the room was so cold and the whole 
 party so very sleepy after the long day's sail, 
 that going-to-bed candles were soon lighted. 
 
 '^ Do you think it will be fine to-morrow? '' 
 inquired Mrs. Pitt of the landlady, as she held 
 her match. 
 
 " I doubt it'll no be verra fine in the morn- 
 ing,'' was the not too cheerful answer, the good 
 woman shaking her head sadly as she gave it. 
 
 But at breakfast time the sun actually peeped 
 out from behind the mist, and it seemed as 
 though their hostess had been mistaken. When 
 she saw them come down clad in raincoats and 
 rubbers, and carrying umbrellas, " in case it 
 should shower," she smiled and said, '^ Ay, 
 you'll maybe get a bit o' a walk." 
 
 They did. Philip and John were in their ele- 
 ment, of course, and Mrs. Pitt and the girls held 
 their skirts high and tramped along, first on 
 one side and then on the other side of the muddy 
 
76 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 road, pretending to be enjoying themselves 
 hugely. Although the metropolis of Skye, pos- 
 sessing four hotels, a post office, branches of 
 certain banks, several small shops, and a jail, 
 Portree is an uninteresting enough little place 
 and was quite desolate on this particular Sun- 
 day morning. They soon left it behind. After 
 several wrong turns had led them only into 
 unpleasant barnyards with no outlet, they did 
 at length discover a road which ran out to the 
 country, to the moorland. 
 
 '* How far it stretches,'' exclaimed Betty; 
 ^^ and what funny little bumps it has on it ! " 
 
 ** Yes, these Skye moors always have just 
 such bumps or hillocks," Mrs. Pitt replied. 
 *^ Do you see the mountains, there in the dis- 
 tance! They're almost covered with the heavy 
 mist, though, and I'm afraid it's coming 
 nearer. ' ' 
 
 By the time they reached a huddled group of 
 three or four huts, with roofs of blackened 
 thatch through which the peat smoke somehow 
 found its way in the absence of chimneys, a 
 typical Scotch mist was driving in their faces. 
 
 * * I want to see the inside of this house, ' ' an- 
 nounced Betty, starting toward the one which 
 stood nearest the road. ** Do you think they'd 
 let me in? " 
 
 A woman appeared at the door just then, and 
 Betty asked her some question by way of begin- 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 77 
 
 ning a conversation, but the woman was pre- 
 paring for the trip into Portree to chnrch, she 
 said, and her answer was very short. 
 
 Betty was quite taken aback. ^* I hope 
 they're not all as cross as that,'' she said; ^^ I 
 wanted to see how they live. My, what a big 
 pile of peat they have, up behind their house ! ' ' 
 
 *^ Oh," cried John, who had been exploring, 
 * * at the next house they have two ! They mean 
 to keep warm. Where do they get the peat, and 
 what is it, anyhow? " 
 
 ** Another name for it is * the turf,' " an- 
 swered Mrs. Pitt, as they turned back towards 
 the town; *^ it is cut from the bogs out on the 
 moors and hillsides. I can show you plenty of 
 peat-bogs, if this rain only stops for us. You'll 
 see how they cut it and then how they stack it up 
 afterwards. It takes a long time to dry and to 
 be right for burning. This summer's peat peo- 
 ple will not use until next year. Oh, children, 
 do see those puppies ! ' ' 
 
 A long halt had then and there to be made, in 
 spite of the rain, to admire the litter of little 
 white puppies. These are called Skye dogs and 
 are seen everywhere throughout the Highlands. 
 
 ** But they aren't like Skye terriers," John 
 objected, *^ those with hair all over their eyes. 
 These are long and they have short legs like 
 dachshunds, but their heads are different. 
 They're like little pigs' heads, I think. Don't 
 
78 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 they have Skye terriers on the Isle of Skye, I 
 should like to know? " 
 
 '* Oh," said his sister, ^^ it's probably like 
 English Breakfast Tea, which they've never 
 heard of in England." 
 
 Mrs. Pitt, wishing to hear a service in Gaelic 
 at one of Portree's churches, stopped there, 
 while the others went back to the hotel for 
 luncheon. It was impossible to walk any more 
 as the rain was steadily and heavily falling; 
 and so it continued to fall throughout the rest 
 of that Sunday and all the following day. 
 
 They tried to lie in bed on Monday morning 
 and do that wholly delightful thing, sleep late, 
 but they found their eyes to be provokingly 
 wide open by eight o 'clock. By early afternoon 
 they had written all the letters they could, 
 drummed upon the ancient piano, and read all 
 the books which their luggage contained. Hear- 
 ing that Portree boasted a library, Mrs. Pitt 
 sent the two boys to see what it offered. The 
 door was locked, the windows boarded, and a 
 man informed John that the library was closed 
 for the season, and was private at all times. 
 For want of anything better to do, John was 
 actually persuaded to join them at afternoon 
 tea, an unheardrof concession on his part. 
 
 Afterwards, Philip made an important dis- 
 covery during a talk with the solemn head- 
 waiter. 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 79 
 
 *^ I say! '' he exclaimed, bursting into the 
 room; ^' Prince Charlie came to Skye, and 
 there's a room in this very hotel where he 
 slept! '' 
 
 Off they all trooped to see it, and Mrs. Pitt 
 learned from a book she had been studying 
 that there also the Prince had said farewell to 
 Flora Macdonald, a brave girl of Skye, who 
 had several times helped him to escape dan- 
 gers and had hidden him in a great cave, keep- 
 ing guard at its mouth. It is related that the 
 Prince could find no words to thank her, except 
 these, just as he stepped into his boat: " For 
 all that has passed, Madam, I hope we shall 
 meet yet at St. James's." 
 
 ^* Did he mean St. James's Palace in London, 
 where they hold the Court! " asked Betty. 
 a Prince Charlie was trying to be king, wasn't 
 he! Some people thought he ought to be king 
 instead of King William who came over from 
 Holland." 
 
 Just then Barbara remembered how she had 
 once read that the Prince had had to dress 
 in a woman's clothes and pretend to be 
 Flora Macdonald 's maid. ^^ They called him 
 ' Betty somebody-or-other, ' " said she, with 
 a laugh. 
 
 Even the subject of the unfortunate Prince 
 and Flora Macdonald was at length exhausted, 
 and then there seemed nothing for it but to 
 
8o JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 hope and plan for the morrow. And this time 
 they were not to be disappointed. 
 
 ^* I have seen it finer, — yes, even in Skye,'' 
 remarked Mrs. Pitt, as she critically viewed 
 the heavens before breakfast, * * but I think we 
 may safely start ont. Philip, will you order the 
 motor! Be sure to make the landlady under- 
 stand that we want to go to Dunvegan by way 
 of Sligachan.'' 
 
 ** Fancy! Motoring in Skye! " 
 
 " But why not, Barbara? It's quicker and 
 easier than driving, and the cost is no greater. 
 This hotel has several motors, I am told.'' 
 
 So they were off about ten o'clock, following 
 for a time the same road they had tramped 
 two days before. But, after crossing the little 
 bridge near the new brick schoolhouse, they 
 turned towards the south and sped on and on 
 across the wild moorland. 
 
 The road was narrow and rough, now stretch- 
 ing over level bits of country, level except for 
 the ever-present hillocks; now zigzagging its 
 way to dizzy heights, on a mountain-side ; now 
 dipping suddenly and crossing a rushing 
 stream, only to begin another steep climb. 
 Over the moors, just beginning to be tinged 
 with the pinkish-purple of the bell heather, the 
 sheep scampered in terror at sound of the 
 motor car. All the ten miles to Sligachan, 
 there were no houses, no people, no trees. 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 8i 
 
 Some one has called Skye ^ ' a land of little sun 
 and no shade.'' 
 
 Slowly the mountains grew steeper, sharper, 
 sterner until Sligachan was reached, a famous 
 spot in the midst of the giant red ^' Coolin 
 Hills. ' ' They whirled past the one hotel and the 
 chauffeur rushed for another hill. The Coolins 
 proper were over there, he said, taking one hand 
 from the steering-wheel and pointing; they 
 could not see them that day, because of the 
 mist. The great clouds moved rapidly, now 
 revealing an undreamed-of jagged peak here, 
 now entirely covering another which had just 
 been visible there. Now and then they found 
 themselves whirling along through one of these 
 clouds of mist, so thick as almost to cut off all 
 view; the next moment the mist had vanished 
 and a warm ray of sunlight had quickly dried 
 them off. 
 
 * * Barbara, please untie my veil for me ; I 
 must wipe off my glasses "; and Barbara 
 obeyed, only to find that the veil had stuck fast 
 to some flowers on her mother's hat, much of 
 their color coming off with it. 
 
 ** Here's another loch! " cried Philip. 
 ** Skye seems to be all lochs and mountains, 
 and moors with hillocks on them ! ' ' 
 
 ** That's very nearly true, Philip," said Mrs. 
 Pitt; ^^ and it's not strange that we see lochs 
 everywhere when we read that, although the 
 
82 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 island is fifty miles long and from seven to 
 twenty-five broad, there is no spot in it which 
 is more than four miles from the sea or one of 
 its long arms.'' 
 
 Then they came to Struan, a village with 
 hnts straggling along both sides of a long, nar- 
 row loch. Conditions have been much improved 
 for the peasants of Skye, and many of their huts 
 now have good chimneys and roofs of slate or of 
 galvanized iron painted black; but occasionally 
 one still sees a miserable hut with thatched roof 
 and no chimney, so low and black that, coming 
 upon it suddenly around a corner, one might 
 almost mistake it for a part of the bog land 
 upon which it stands. 
 
 ^ ' See that woman ! ' ' cried John suddenly. 
 ** What's she got on her back? " 
 
 '' That's a creel, a kind of basket in which 
 she carries home her peat. Do you see how she 
 sets the bottom of the creel on that stone wall 
 while she rests a moment! She never wastes 
 her time, you notice; she is always knitting a 
 stocking. ' ' 
 
 At the end of the loch the road crossed a 
 bridge; then it turned and followed the oppo- 
 site shore. They passed more huts from which 
 children, dressed in the customary scanty kilt, 
 ran out to see the motor car. 
 
 '^ They don't seem to be at all surprised 
 to see us," commented Betty. 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 83 
 
 At the top of a long hill they came upon 
 some men cutting peat from a bog, and the 
 chauffeur obligingly stopped so that they might 
 watch the process. A long, deep ditch was cut 
 across the moorland, and from the sides of it a 
 man was slicing off oblong pieces of the moist 
 black earth. 
 
 ^^ That shovel of his is a dandy! " cried John 
 approvingly; ^' it's long and narrow, and it 
 makes the pieces just the right size. My, it 
 doesn't take him a jiffy to do it! It looks like a 
 cinch! I'd like to try it." 
 
 a There's another man who is standing the 
 pieces of peat up on end, in little groups. I 
 guess that's how he leaves them to dry, isn't 
 it, Mrs. Pitt? Oh, John, there's a pony carry- 
 ing two panniers full of peat! Do you see 
 him? " 
 
 But they could not spend too long a time in 
 watching this fascinating peat-cutting. The car 
 started up again and by early afternoon brought 
 them to the inn at Dunvegan, on the opposite 
 side of the island from Portree. 
 
CHAPTEE FIVE 
 
 SKYE LEGENDS AND CASTLES 
 
 In spite of himself Jolm had begun to feel an 
 interest in the poet, Ossian, *^ that fellow who 
 invented the ^ apples of immortal youth ' and 
 the stupid Falls of Lora." The landlord was 
 telling them stories in front of the drawing- 
 room peat fire, at the Dunvegan inn. The 
 kindly man, with his gray hair and bent shoul- 
 ders, stared into the fire as he talked, and when- 
 ever he came to a specially critical point in 
 one of his tales, he would lean forward and 
 nervously prod the slow-burning peats with his 
 foot. 
 
 ** Ye '11 be speirin' a story of me, will ye? " 
 he had said. ^^ Weel, then, I maun gie ye some 
 guid tales that ye '11 no be hearin' in mony 
 sheilings o' Skye i' these times. There's no a 
 doot but that our Skye fowk hae forgotten all 
 the guid old tales o' Ossian and Fingal, his 
 fayther, and a' the guid people. It is a great 
 peety! Ye '11 maybe find a wheen old fowk who 
 yet ken aboot the guid people who were seen 
 yonder at the Fairy Brig; but the young fowk 
 
 84 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 85 
 
 ken naething but the Broadford Fair and sae 
 muckle learning frae the Glasgy and Inverness 
 papers. But Archie here/' slapping his own 
 lean knee as he spoke, ^^ Archie here, he kens 
 what's i' the papers and he kens the old tales, 
 too. Ou ay, he kens them fine ! ' ' 
 
 ^^ Well, then, give us a few,'' said John, by 
 way of encouraging him to proceed. 
 
 And so, first of all, they heard how there was 
 an old ruin in Skye, called Dunscaich Castle, 
 and how it had been built long ages ago in the 
 days of Fingal, the giant, by a great chief, 
 named CuchuUin, for whom the famous 
 Cuchullin or Coolin hills have been called. 
 Cuchullin and his mighty giants had built the 
 castle in a single night, and there were great 
 feasts held there, at every one of which the min- 
 strel Ossian sang the praises of Cuchullin and 
 his Fingalians, and of their brave and terrible 
 deeds. But a truly dreadful thing befell Os- 
 sian, so the story relates. One day, as he was 
 wandering over the hills, he suddenly heard the 
 most beautiful music which seemed to come 
 from the direction of a pleasant green knoll 
 close by. Sitting down to listen, he was lulled 
 to sleep by the fairy strains, for the music was 
 that of the ^^ good people." No sooner had Os- 
 sian so fallen to sleep than the green knoU 
 opened wide and out poured troops of fairies, 
 who allowed him to go with them to their under- 
 
86 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 world and to join in their merry-making. But, 
 after a while the music again sounded, once more 
 Ossian slept on the hillside, and when he awoke, 
 he was an old, gray-bearded man. He had been 
 asleep for a hundred years, as mortals count 
 time. After this Ossian was very sad. During 
 the years he had been absent, the world had 
 entirely changed; the giant Fingalians had dis- 
 appeared, and the dwarfs called men inhabited 
 Skye. Feeling very lonesome, Ossian at length 
 married a shepherd's daughter, and in due 
 time a child was born to them. Years went 
 by and Ossian 's daughter was herself married 
 to Peter, who spent all his days in hunting. 
 Ossian lived with his daughter and Peter, and 
 every evening he recited to them marvelous 
 tales of his youth, painting glowing pictures of 
 the Isle of Skye in the time of the Fingalians. 
 And all these tales Peter wrote down in a big 
 book. 
 
 Upon one occasion Peter killed a huge stag 
 and when he carried it home upon his shoulders, 
 he said to his aged father-in-law, '' In the 
 Fingalian days you sing about, killed you ever a 
 stag so large as this one? " 
 
 "When the stag had been dressed and eaten, 
 Ossian took up one of its bones and answered 
 with much disdain, ^' This bone, big as you 
 think it, could be dropped into the hollow of 
 a Fingalian blackbird's leg." 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 87 
 
 ^^Hm!'' grunted John; ^^ I'll bet Peter 
 wouldn't swallow that! '' 
 
 Peter was mneh annoyed by the old man's 
 boast, so much so that he snatched up the large 
 volume containing the songs of other days, and 
 it would have been burned in the fire had not 
 Ossian's daughter rescued it just in time. Os- 
 sian felt such disgust at the sad lack of appre- 
 ciation shown by these little people who now 
 possessed the earth that when he went to his 
 bed he prayed earnestly to his pagan gods that 
 they might allow his Fingalian stags and 
 hounds and blackbirds to return to earth for 
 only one hour, one hour in which to convince 
 the unbelieving Peter. 
 
 Upon waking the next morning he felt a 
 weight upon his breast ; it proved to be the 
 paw of his own hound, who seemed overjoyed 
 when Ossian called him by name. The old man 
 arose, found his little grandson, and, with the 
 dog, they went out upon the hillside. Then 
 Ossian said to the child, '^ Put your fingers in 
 your ears, little one, else I will make you deaf 
 for life, ' ' and he whistled more loudly than any 
 mortal can whistle. 
 
 Soon there appeared in the distance a herd of 
 Fingalian deer, so huge that the child was 
 frightened. They passed, and Ossian spoke to 
 his dog, which immediately overtook the herd 
 and caught seven of their number. These his 
 
88 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 master skinned and dressed, and when tbey were 
 ready for cooking, lie waded into the center of 
 the loch, and, reaching down his hand, brought 
 up his great Fingalian kettle, which had not 
 been used for more than a century. Then was 
 Ossian very, very happy; for, since the fairies 
 had put him to sleep, long years ago, he had 
 never once had enough to eat. So big and so 
 empty had been his stomach that he had formed 
 the habit of gathering up its too numerous folds 
 with nine splints. One by one he removed these 
 at the great feast which now took place, and 
 at last his appetite was satisfied. 
 
 Having collected all the bones and burned 
 them, Ossian asked his grandson to go up to 
 the knoll and tell him if he saw anything. ** A 
 great bird is flying hither, ' ' answered the child ; 
 and a big Fingalian blackbird flew to Ossian 's 
 side. He at once grasped and killed it, and car- 
 ried it home to his son-in-law's turf hut. After 
 supper, Ossian was able to call for the thigh- 
 bone of Peter's stag and place it in the hollow 
 of the giant blackbird's leg. Thus did he 
 triumph in the eyes of mortals and prove the 
 truth of his Fingalian boasts. And it was the 
 very same night that Ossian died. 
 
 The landlord told them many other strange 
 things. He told them how the fairies of Skye 
 are supposed to keep herds of cattle as well as 
 of deer; how these cattle are red and speckled 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 89 
 
 and can swim across the sea ; and liow there are 
 only ten places in the whole island where they 
 will graze, one of them being a certain field near 
 Portree. He told them that the fairies very 
 seldom have horses, but that sometimes they 
 have been known to take horses belonging to 
 mortals out of their stables and ride them across 
 the country at top-speed, sitting facing their 
 tails. He told them that when you hear a horse 
 neigh at night, you may know that an elf has 
 been riding him too hard. They learned that 
 fairy dogs are green, a lighter shade toward 
 their feet, and that sometimes their tails are 
 long and braided, and then again they are coiled 
 upon their backs. Fingal's dog. Bran, was of 
 fairy breed, it seems; a queer little verse says 
 that, 
 
 **Bran had yellow feet, 
 
 Its two sides black and belly white; 
 Green was the back of the hunting hound, 
 Its two pointed ears blood-red." 
 
 Besides his other virtues. Bran wore a poison- 
 ous shoe which killed whatever it struck; and 
 when he traveled at full speed (he always went 
 ^^ a glen at a step, a hill at a leap, and thirty- 
 two miles at a running leap! ") he looked like 
 three dogs. Earthly dogs greatly dislike the 
 fairies and always will chase them, but they in- 
 
90 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 variably return with no hair left on their bodies 
 except their ears, and very soon after they 
 die. 
 
 He told them that fairies never really steal 
 anything, only the substance of it. For instance, 
 there was always great fear that the fairies 
 would come to steal a little baby; if they did 
 succeed in carrying it off, in its place they 
 would leave a queer, dwarfed old man who had 
 an alarmingly large appetite. If the fairies 
 stole cattle or food, it was the same way; they 
 left something in its place, something which 
 would always prove worthless when tested, al- 
 though the change might not be noticed at once. 
 If a mortal went to visit the fairies in their 
 green knolls or under-world, he stuck his knife 
 into the ground near the entrance to the fairy 
 country; this enabled him to make his escape 
 when he desired. Iron was the greatest protec- 
 tion against fairies, but their host told them 
 that many consider oatmeal to be as effectual 
 for this purpose. If a boy is going any dis- 
 tance after dark, his mother sometimes fills his 
 pockets with oatmeal, which prevents him from 
 seeing any ** guid people. '^ It is unlucky for 
 mortals to wear green because it is the favorite 
 color of the fairies. At the battle of Killie- 
 crankie, Viscount Dundee wore green and to 
 this fact was attributed his defeat. Even to-day 
 his descendants do not like the color. 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 91 
 
 '* Well, the Irish don't believe that! " com- 
 mented John. 
 
 It is clear that the people of the Scottish 
 Highlands and Islands are very superstitious. 
 It is said that various strange animals are still 
 feared by the people of certain remote districts. 
 The landlord told of a water-horse which lives 
 in the lochs although it sometimes feeds in the 
 fields with normal horses, and has been known 
 to take human shape. If a man leaps upon its 
 back, the beast will surely jump from a clitf 
 to devour its prey at the bottom of the loch. 
 In some lochs of Skye it is said there are still 
 water-bulls, and a certain loch on the mainland 
 has a mysterious bogie. There is a phantom 
 dog at a place called Uist, in Skye; he has un- 
 earthly eyes which glitter, and a fearful bark, 
 and he guards the burying ground. No Skye- 
 man desires to pass that way after dark ! 
 
 The people of one part of Skye believe that 
 if they light fires on a certain headland at the 
 beginning of winter, it will bring them in her- 
 rings a-plenty. Many persons still hold it to 
 be undesirable, when starting upon a journey, 
 to meet certain people. Some think women 
 more unlucky, and some men. That he might 
 not encounter any '^ bad people," one old 
 farmer, or crofter, was accustomed to send out 
 a member of his own family to be the first to 
 meet him. 
 
92 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 An amusing story was told of a Skye farmer 
 and liis wife, who went to bed one evening, 
 leaving a pot of paint on the floor; during the 
 night their pig entered and fell into the pot. 
 Getting up when she heard the noise, the woman 
 saw the pig's green snout and declared to her 
 husband that it was the devil himself. The 
 farmer accordingly sprang up and held down 
 the lid of the pot until the struggles within 
 ceased. He was encouraged by his wife, who 
 all the while was assuring him, '^ Many a per- 
 son you will confer a favor on this night, 
 Murdoch ; ' ' but when they discovered their mis- 
 take, there was little rejoicing. The poor couple 
 had lost their paint and their pig as well. 
 
 And so, laughing at these strange stories and 
 superstitions, even while they at the same time 
 felt just a bit puzzled by them, the young people 
 finally listened to Mrs. Pitt's pleadings that 
 they should '' come away to bed." 
 
 The next morning, having walked from the 
 inn, along the road and through a bit of wood- 
 land, they stood at length before fine old Dun- 
 vegan Castle, home of the chief of the McLeod 
 clan for more than seven hundred years. 
 
 Some say that Dunvegan is the oldest in- 
 habited building in the country, and certain it is 
 that, though the place has been much modern- 
 ized, the present chief still lives in a castle 
 including an old keep which came into the fam- 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 93 
 
 ily's possession when Leod, son of the King of 
 Man, married the daughter of McCrailt Ar- 
 muinn of Dunvegan. 
 
 The castle perches high npon a ledge of rock 
 which is almost an island, the waves of the loch 
 washing it on three sides. The main door is 
 approached by a wide path crossing the little 
 ravine, doubtless spanned by a drawbridge in 
 olden days. Upon ringing, Mrs. Pitt found 
 that the family were away, as indeed they usu- 
 ally are, but the servant was most civil and con- 
 sented to show the party about. 
 
 They entered first a square hall with wooden 
 galleries above, from one of which was hung 
 the McLeod banner of white with the family 
 legend and arms in crimson embroideries. Up- 
 stairs they were taken through many apart- 
 ments, the floors of which were quite bare, and 
 the furniture grouped in the center and covered 
 with heavy awnings; most of the family por- 
 traits were in their places, however, and might 
 have afforded many an interesting tale had the 
 chieftain been present to identify his ancestors. 
 The great drawing-room has a bloody history. 
 
 ** In the middle of the sixteenth century," 
 Mrs. Pitt was saying, '^ Black Ian, a usurping 
 chief, feared that the Campbells, who, he knew, 
 had landed in Skye, would come to turn him 
 out of the castle. Ian spoke of discussing terms, 
 and so invited eleven Campbells to a banquet 
 
94 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 in this very drawing-room. Each Campbell was 
 carefully seated between two McLeods. When 
 the feast was at its height, a signal was given, 
 and each McLeod arose and promptly killed 
 a Campbell." 
 
 ** But Where's the Fairy Tower IVe heard 
 about? " said Barbara. The servant assured 
 her that they were soon to see it. 
 
 Up the narrow spiral stair in the ancient 
 keep they climbed until they came into a cham- 
 ber with enormously thick walls and windows 
 commanding a glorious view of blue loch and 
 bold Skye headland. Legend has it that each 
 future bride of a McLeod had to pass one night 
 alone in this room so that the fairies might 
 have an opportunity to inspect her. 
 
 '' Sir Walter Scott slept here once, you 
 know,'' reminded Mrs. Pitt; ^^ and Dr. John- 
 son before him. Johnson and Boswell had 
 traveled far through these wild islands of the 
 Hebrides, — they were very wild in those days; 
 and the luxury-loving Doctor was much de- 
 lighted to be invited to Dunvegan, where the 
 young laird of the day entertained him. What 
 with the genial host and the ladies of his house- 
 hold, the good food and bed, Dr. Johnson would 
 have been perfectly content had he not caught a 
 bad cold, * having strangely slept without a 
 night-cap.' " 
 
 Descending the stair, they passed the en- 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 95 
 
 trances of dark dungeons, which seem to have 
 been built very close to where were once the 
 family's living apartments. 
 
 " It must have been dreadful to go so near 
 the poor prisoners whenever you went up- and 
 downstairs," said Betty. 
 
 But, of course, the most interesting things at 
 Dunvegan are the Fairy Flag, Rory Mor's 
 Drinking-horn, and the celebrated Dunvegan 
 Cup. 
 
 The flag is now too frail to be shown to visi- 
 tors; it is said to be a square of rich yellow 
 silk, stitched with gold crosses and having sev- 
 eral red spots. Two strange stories account for 
 its existence. 
 
 One tale has it that a certain McLeod chief 
 married a fairy who was allowed to stay on 
 earth but twenty years. It was near the Fairy 
 Bridge, three miles from Dunvegan, that she 
 flew away from her husband's reach; and, as 
 she went, dropped the flag which she had been 
 accustomed to wear as part of her dress. The 
 other tale relates that during the festivities 
 held after the birth of a McLeod heir, the nurse 
 left the baby without sufficient covering; but 
 when she went back to her charge, she found 
 him wrapped in the Fairy Flag. Thus she 
 picked him up, and as she showed him to some 
 of the clansmen, fairy voices were heard sing- 
 ing of the magic powers of the flag and of how 
 
96 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 the mere waving of it three times would save 
 the clan in time of need. 
 
 ^' And has it saved them I " demanded John 
 eagerly. 
 
 ^' Yes; the flag has been waved twice. The 
 first time the McLeods were on the point of 
 suffering a terrible defeat from an enemy who 
 had surprised them; but the flag made the Mc- 
 Leod forces appear many times their real size 
 and the enemy fled. The second time the flag 
 stopped a plague that had attacked the cattle 
 on the island.'' 
 
 '^ I suppose they wouldn't like to wave it a 
 third time, even if they needed it very much," 
 suggested Betty, ^ ' because then the fairy would 
 come and take it away, wouldn't she I " 
 
 They saw the great drinking-horn, tipped 
 with silver, which belonged to Sir Eory Mor, a 
 McLeod chief of the sixteenth century. The 
 rule is that each chief, upon coming of age, must 
 fill this horn to the brim and drain it at one 
 draught. 
 
 " It doesn't look very big inside," said John, 
 leaning over to examine it better ; but the serv- 
 ant explained that most of it has now been filled 
 up and it is consequently only a very moderate 
 drink which modern chiefs must take. Origi- 
 nally the cup would probably have held two or 
 three bottles of wine. 
 
 The Dunvegan Cup is made of oak, stands 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 97 
 
 on four short silver legs, and is embossed with 
 silver in which were once set precious stones of 
 which only a few bits of coral remain. It is 
 now considered a most interesting and valu- 
 able specimen, having been made in the year 
 1493. 
 
 ^ ^ Columbus ! ' ' cried John ; * * just the year 
 after we were discovered! " 
 
 The cup has a fairy history, too. In the days 
 of the third McLeod chief, a cattle-herder, 
 named Lurran Casinreach, or '^ the swift- 
 footed," was present at a strange fairy feast. 
 The fairies had done him harm; as a means of 
 revenge, Lurran stole their cup as it was being 
 passed around the table, and so it came into 
 possession of the lairds of Dunvegan Castle. 
 
 As they crossed the Fairy Bridge on their 
 return motor car trip to Portree the following 
 day, they recalled the story of McLeod 's fairy 
 wife and her flag. 
 
 ^^ I never expected to feel so well acquainted 
 with fairies ! ' ' declared Betty. 
 
 A few days later the boat from Oban carried 
 the party out of the pretty, sheltered harbor of 
 Portree, and north to Gairloch, on the main- 
 land. With a large, luxurious hotel, the place 
 has now become quite a tourist resort. 
 
 But even better than Gairloch they liked Loch 
 ■Maree, to which a big motor car whirled them 
 through a wonderful wilderness of hills covered 
 
98 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 with bell-lieather and roadsides edged with lav- 
 ender thyme; of remarkably varied and per- 
 fect trees and of waterfalls and rushing tor- 
 rents, which, though clear, have a suggestion of 
 the color of the peat. 
 
 After lunching at a long table, where most 
 of the chairs were unoccupied, John and Philip 
 took the others for a row on the lake. The 
 shadows on bold Ben Slioch with its great 
 crevices, and on the other mountains, were dark, 
 dark blue that afternoon, without a hint of the 
 heliotrope of which they had seen so much in 
 the Highlands. Now and then threatening 
 clouds piled up near one of the peaks, but the 
 sun always succeeded in chasing them away. 
 
 They rowed very close to the famous Eileen 
 Maree, where once was a monastery dedicated 
 to the Virgin Mary; there was also a sacred 
 well which our poet, Whittier, described as a 
 spot to which insane people were brought to 
 bathe their brows and be cured by its waters. 
 
 a There's an old, old legend, too, which is 
 connected with the island," said Mrs. Pitt. *^ I 
 think you will like to hear it. This little isle 
 had been appointed by a young Norwegian 
 prince as the place of meeting with his bride. 
 He was kept waiting a long time in much 
 anxiety, however, for the lady was the daughter 
 of an Irish king, and her boat was delayed by 
 contrary winds. At last they told the prince 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 99 
 
 that a boat had been sighted, and he sent a mes- 
 senger to the end of the lake with orders to 
 hoist a white flag if the lady was safe, and a 
 black flag if she had been lost. The lady was 
 there, and as beautiful as ever, but she chose 
 to fly the black flag to test her lover's faith, 
 to see how he would feel at news of her death. 
 Alas! when she arrived joyfully to contradict 
 the bad report, she found that the prince had 
 taken his life. There are two stones on the 
 island which, they say, mark the graves of the 
 unlucky pair." 
 
 That evening the dining-room was crowded 
 with gentlemen and ladies who had been off fish- 
 ing all day; this, they learned, explained the 
 deserted lunch-table. When they finished din- 
 ner, they found the floor of the little hall almost 
 covered with trays of fish, and an old gillie, his 
 face flushed with pride, was still bearing in 
 more. They were mostly sea-trout, he told 
 them, and they came up the river into the fresh 
 waters of Loch Maree. 
 
 ^* I think I'll just stay behind a day or two, 
 if you don't mind, Mrs. Pitt, and have a little 
 fishing myself." Such was John's decision 
 that evening, but the next morning he thought 
 better of it, and went on with the others to 
 Inverness. 
 
CHAPTER SIX 
 
 INVEBNESS AND CAWDOR CASTLE 
 
 ** So you Ve two Americans with you to-day,'' 
 the factor (or overseer )of the Cawdor Castle 
 estate was saying to Mrs. Pitt, as he read- 
 justed the blush rosebud in his buttonhole. 
 *V"We are not admitting the public to the castle; 
 but you 're quite sure they are from the States 1 
 Well, I'll do what I can; I promise you that." 
 
 So saying, he stepped into his smart trap, 
 which had been awaiting him at the door, and 
 was driven away in the direction of the castle, 
 where there were certain repairs requiring his 
 oversight in progress. It had been arranged 
 that Mrs. Pitt and her party should follow him 
 about half an hour later. 
 
 In the meantime they found things to inter- 
 est them in Nairn, a town about fifteen miles 
 from Inverness. It is a place of strange con- 
 trasts, for, in spite of its being a popular sea- 
 side resort, it has kept its quaint old-world ap- 
 pearance. Motor cars, driven by gay summer 
 girls, honked up and down its narrow main 
 street, and fashionably dressed visitors jostled 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT loi 
 
 the shoulders of stout fishwives in starched caps 
 and aprons, with creels of fish on their backs. 
 They even met a man who was striding down the 
 middle of the street, ringing a huge bell and, in a 
 Fingalian voice, announcing a ^' sale of pota- 
 toes in the ground " which would take place at 
 a neighboring farm at seven-forty-five that 
 evening. 
 
 At the appointed time they set out in an open 
 carriage, and, after a pleasant six-mile drive, 
 arrived at the castle gate. 
 
 ^^ Did you ever see such an adorable little 
 lodge! " cried Betty, catching sight of a low 
 graystone cottage, over which climbed a won- 
 derful scarlet vine. 
 
 Just then the cheery Scotch caretaker ap- 
 peared to beckon them within, for it was 
 showering a bit out of a blue sky, as it has a 
 delightful fashion of doing in the British Isles. 
 Such summer showers never do any harm and 
 are often the means of leading to agreeable and 
 unexpected experiences, or of showing one 
 homelike interiors, as was the case on this July 
 day when John and Betty visited Cawdor 
 Castle. 
 
 In the neat but crowded little room, and over 
 the steaming cups of tea and flat, beautifully 
 baked and jam-spread pancakes which the 
 woman insisted they should accept, she told them 
 what she called the flame-colored vine, of which 
 
I02 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 she was very proud. Unfortunately its name is so 
 long and difficult that neither Mrs. Pitt nor any 
 of the others could recall it afterwards; but 
 they always remembered the pride with which 
 they were assured that it is ^^ quite Scotch and 
 willna grow south o' the Tweed." 
 
 When, after a little, the rain ceased and they 
 bade farewell to the woman at the lodge, walk- 
 ing through the ancient gate into the castle 
 grounds, the factor from Nairn was coming 
 down the drive toward them. He was smiling, 
 so they knew that all was well ; he had decided in 
 their favor, and they would see the castle in- 
 terior. 
 
 The factor put his finger to his lips. ** We'll 
 just walk around the lawn a bit," said he. 
 a I've refused admission to some English peo- 
 ple staying at a castle near here, and they 
 may yet be about the grounds. You under- 
 stand that the castle's just being newly done up, 
 a little painting and putting in new drains, and 
 no visitors are allowed. The Earl and her 
 Ladyship are in Edinburgh now, but they'll be 
 coming here with a houseful of guests in a few 
 weeks' time. I assure you we've our hands 
 full to be ready for them ! ' ' and he shook his 
 head wearily. But the factor had not the look 
 of an overworked man. 
 
 By the time he had shown them a most im- 
 posing view of the castle from across a little 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 103 
 
 river, a view including the long, severely plain 
 portion in wMch are tlie living apartments, as 
 well as the old fifteenth-centnry keep whose 
 four pointed turrets tower behind and above, it 
 was considered that the English party must 
 have taken its disappointed departure; so they 
 approached the castle entrance. 
 
 ^^ Bully! " shouted John. '' It's got a draw- 
 bridge and a moat, only the moat's got two 
 trees growing in it! " 
 
 ^^ Is that the only way to get in? " asked 
 Betty, pointing to the ancient drawbridge with 
 its heavy chains and its great beams, now green 
 with the mold of ages. 
 
 a Ay," replied the factor. 
 
 '' Will it still work I " demanded John. 
 ^^ Can they pull it up the way they used 
 to? " 
 
 ^' If his lordship wished, he could have it 
 raised and lowered as in the old days. I showed 
 Sir Henry Irving and Ellen Terry through the 
 castle before their production of ' Macbeth.' 
 Do ye ken that they copied our old entrance 
 here for one of their stage settings? " 
 
 The first courtyard they reached, after cross- 
 ing the drawbridge, was littered with carpen- 
 ters' tools and lumber, and men were noisily 
 at work there ; they turned to the right into an- 
 other courtyard where the factor unlocked a 
 broad, low door. This is the entrance, he told 
 
I04 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 them, through which the Earl, his family, and 
 his guests enter the castle. 
 
 ^ ^ Dandy old place ! ' ' exclaimed John, as they 
 followed the factor through the dark, narrow 
 passage. 
 
 *' It's a really old castle and they haven't 
 fixed it up a bit, ' ' said Betty, who was delighted 
 with everything about Cawdor, — the uneven 
 floors and the low ceilings and the small win- 
 dows in the thick walls. 
 
 Mrs. Pitt called attention to the fine oak 
 paneling in the somber drawing-room, the fleur- 
 de-lis design on the dining-room ceiling, and the 
 rich tapestries; but as they came again into 
 the hall, Philip and John espied a rusted iron 
 gate at the foot of a winding stair. 
 
 ^ ' Where does that lead to ? ' ' they demanded. 
 
 The factor told them they would explore in a 
 few minutes, and meanwhile showed them a 
 door close by, opening into the dungeon in the 
 old keep. 
 
 ^^ Why, there's a tree here, too! '' exclaimed 
 Betty, who had stepped in ahead of the rest, 
 and whose eyes were sooner accustomed to the 
 dim light. 
 
 ''■ Ay, that's Cawdor's famous hawthorn 
 tree;" and the factor then went on to relate 
 its strange tradition. 
 
 The thane (or lord) who built the castle, con- 
 sulting some wise men about the site to choose, 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 105 
 
 was advised to put the heavy chest, full of gold 
 which was to pay the workmen, upon the back of 
 an ass and to build where the animal halted. 
 The ass stopped at the third hawthorn tree and 
 around it the thane built the walls of his keep. 
 
 The tree is undoubtedly very, very old. It 
 reaches to the ceiling of the dungeon and at 
 its foot lies an old chest. Who will say that 
 it may not be the very one which the ass car- 
 ried so long ago? 
 
 The winding stair by the iron wicket leads 
 to a chamber which is large and light, has an 
 old-fashioned curtained four-poster, electric 
 lighting, and bare, plaster walls upon which the 
 well-meaning guests have sketched certain 
 weird scenes from Shakespeare. The room, 
 called King Duncan's Chamber, is known as 
 that in which Macbeth committed the murder. 
 
 ^' But I thought Macbeth killed him at Inver- 
 ness Castle! '' said Betty. ** The penny guide 
 says so.'' 
 
 ** And I thought it was at Glamis Castle, 
 Mother," put in Philip. 
 
 The factor and Mrs. Pitt exchanged helpless 
 glances ; but it was Mrs. Pitt who spoke, for the 
 factor was gazing intently at a coat of mail 
 which is said to have served as a model for the 
 one worn by Sir Henry Irving in the play. 
 
 ^* The fact is that all three castles claim to 
 possess the identical room, but no one will 
 
io6 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 ever know where it really was. The tower at 
 Glamis Castle may possibly have been built in 
 the thirteenth century; they say it is probable 
 that Inverness Castle was destroyed by a son of 
 the murdered King Duncan; but no one can 
 credit this Cawdor Castle keep with a date 
 farther back than 1440. If one of us were actu- 
 ally privileged to see Macbeth 's own castle as 
 it existed during his lifetime, — well, do you 
 know how it would probably look! " she 
 laughed. '^ It would doubtless be made of 
 wicker, or timber at best, and it would never 
 do to copy it for a stage-setting intended to 
 satisfy a modern audience. Wise Sir Henry 
 knew that, and so he came to Cawdor for his 
 inspiration. However, as long as we always 
 like to select some place where we can ourselves 
 picture such famous happenings, I confess that 
 I long ago chose Cawdor as the scene of Dun- 
 can's murder. I was not thinking so much of 
 this room, which is far too cheerful, but of the 
 winding stairway and the rusty iron gate, you 
 know. I can almost see the marks of Macbeth 's 
 bloody hands on that, can't you I " 
 
 The spiral stair wound on even higher, and 
 at length brought them to the battlement of the 
 old keep, on a level with the quaint turrets 
 which once served as lookout points. Below 
 were the various courts of the castle and the 
 other buildings with their flagged roofs and six- 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 107 
 
 teentli-ceiitury dormer windows. The entrance 
 to a tiny secret chamber, under the roof, was 
 pointed out; here Lord Lovat is said to have 
 hidden for a time after Prince Charlie's defeat 
 at Culloden Moor. 
 
 The views on all sides are very lovely and 
 far-reaching, including many farms and great 
 woods that extend in one direction twenty miles 
 beyond the castle, all the property of the Earl 
 of Cawdor. 
 
 * ^ Oh, can you see from here where the witches 
 danced? '' inquired Betty. 
 
 *^ Over yonder, about four miles toward 
 Forres, is what they call the ^ blasted heath ' 
 where the witches accosted Macbeth,'' replied 
 the factor. ^ ^ There 's nought but a bare hillock 
 there, upon which the three witches stood, bare 
 because they poured over its summit their 
 poisonous brewing from the great pot. In that 
 direction, I can see the roof of a castle. Ay, 
 that's it. Master John; you've a good eye. The 
 story goes that the eldest son of the Thane of 
 Cawdor ran away with his sweetheart, who was 
 called the Rose of Kilravock; they lived in that 
 castle. The son was disinherited by his father, 
 but after both were dead, the Cawdor estate was 
 claimed by Eose's little daughter. The matter 
 was left to the Duke of Argyll, then Lord Chief 
 Justice of Scotland, and he gave his answer in 
 the young girl's favor on condition that she 
 
io8 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 should marry Ms second son. Thus did Caw- 
 dor come into the possession of the great Camp- 
 bell family to which the Duke belonged, as you 
 know. ' ' 
 
 ^' Might we see the garden? " asked Barbara, 
 attracted by the gay flowers seen from the 
 tower. The factor assenting, they had a de- 
 lightful ramble through the gardens, where 
 they found ideal old fountains ; long grass walks 
 bordered by old-fashioned garden flowers and 
 many rare ones as well; masses of beautiful 
 flowering shrubbery ; and here and there formal 
 beds and clipped yew hedges. There is a large 
 fruit garden beyond ; and about a mile from the 
 castle, a hermitage and a rock garden. The 
 park follows the little river for miles through 
 the woods, most of the way on the border of a 
 deep gorge. The paths were very quiet and 
 shady, and once they came upon a spotted deer 
 which lay directly in their path and refused to 
 move. They were sorry when the time came to 
 retrace their steps. They glanced once again 
 at the castle's aid-time drawbridge, and then 
 followed John, who had gone ahead and was al- 
 ready arousing their sleepy driver. 
 
 That evening the train ride back to Inverness, 
 the Highland Capital, was enchanting. The sky 
 was deep blue and the great clouds drifting 
 across were the purest white. They passed 
 through fields of waving grain, deep yellow, in 
 
Might we see the garden?" asked Barbara. — Page 10b. 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 109 
 
 which the bright flash of wild flowers was some- 
 times caught; in the distance rose purple hills, 
 and those still farther toward the horizon were 
 a smoky blue. 
 
 ^^ It's just as bright as a colored picture post- 
 card," declared Betty. 
 
 Men who have traveled far and seen the 
 greatest and most beautiful cities of the world 
 have sung the praises of Inverness; and the 
 modern little city is certainly very fair. The 
 river which divides it is as clear as a mountain 
 stream, and so shallow in summer that boys 
 can wade into the very center for their fishing. 
 On a hill, above the river, is the castle which 
 has a certain picturesqueness, although it is 
 quite new and is occupied by the county offices 
 and the prison. It is the site of historic old 
 Inverness Castle. In front of it is a statue of 
 Flora Macdonald, erected in 1899; but Mrs. 
 Pitt took all the romance out of that, for she 
 would have it that the heroine's attitude re- 
 minded her of a London suffragette giving a 
 street lecture. Best of all, the young people 
 thought, were the Ness Islands, which are con- 
 nected by many little rustic bridges, and with 
 their trees and flowers make a pleasant resort 
 for the townspeople. 
 
 Soon after the canal-boat left Inverness early 
 the following morning, they came in sight of 
 Tomnahurich Hill or '' Hill of the Fairies," 
 
no JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 which is described as ^' shaped like a ship with 
 its keel uppermost." Strange to say, in spite 
 of odd tales of the hill's connection with the 
 ^^ good people," it is now a cemetery, a very 
 unusual one with its steep paths, and its monu- 
 ments, one above another, on the hillside. So 
 heavily wooded it is that, from a little distance, 
 one has no suspicion of its purpose. 
 
 Their trip down the famous Caledonian 
 Canal, from Inverness to Fort William, was 
 rather unsatisfactory because of the bad 
 weather. Early in the day it had seemed prom- 
 ising enough, but by the time they had come 
 into the broader waters of Loch Ness, a strong 
 wind was buffeting the little boat about and 
 they were peering through a heavy mist at 
 the mountains, the attractive country houses, 
 and the occasional castles which they passed. 
 After leaving Fort Augustus, where tiny 
 bazaars lined either side of the lock, the rain 
 began in earnest; in the stuffy cabin, babies 
 cried fretfully and people slept noisily, occupy- 
 ing more than their share of the narrow 
 benches. 
 
 It was a relief to reach Fort William, even 
 to tramp through the rain to the hotel, which 
 they had to do because the bus was over- 
 crowded. 
 
 Before dinner a lone piper stood under the 
 front windows and played the same monotonous 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT iii 
 
 tune over and over on his bagpipe for half an 
 hour. Mrs. Pitt quoted an appropriate verse, 
 describing this strange music : 
 
 " ^ It was wild, it was fitful, it died on the breeze, 
 It wandered about into various keys; 
 It was jerky, spasmodic, and harsh, I declare, 
 But still — it distinctly suggested an air.' 
 
 ^ ^ The bagpipe really belongs no more to the 
 Scot than it does to the Englishman, the Irish- 
 man, or the Italian,'' she told them; " in the 
 early growth of all these peoples the bagpipe had 
 its place. But with its strange tones, now gay 
 and now sad, it seemed to appeal especially to 
 the changeable Gael or Scot. In the days of 
 the great chiefs, each had his particular piper, 
 who was frequently a person of enough im- 
 portance to have his own servants, such as his 
 pipe-bearer. There used to be schools for 
 pipers. Now that I think of it, the innkeeper 
 told me that one still exists at Dunvegan. What 
 a pity! We might have paid it a visit." 
 
 ^* Not for mine! " cried John, as the weird 
 strains outside grew louder. ^^ I'm getting 
 plenty of it right here ! ' ' 
 
 And away he went to search out the head- 
 porter in the hope of hearing something inter- 
 esting regarding the observatory on Ben Nevis, 
 the highest peak in Great Britain, which, they 
 said, lay at the back of Fort William, behind 
 the clouds and mist. 
 
CHAPTER SEVEN 
 
 BEN NEVIS, PERTH, AND THRUMS 
 
 Ben Nevis is said to be '* held on a snow- 
 ball tenure '^; which probably means that long 
 centuries ago a king gave the mountain to one 
 of his subjects, in return for which gift he was 
 to be presented with a snowball at certain stated 
 times. The mountain now belongs to h family 
 in which is combined the blood of the once hos- 
 tile Campbells and Camerons with that of Eng- 
 lish Sir Thomas Lucy of Charlecote, whose deer 
 Shakespeare stole, according to tradition. 
 
 In 1883 an observatory was founded on the 
 top of Ben Nevis, but this has now been de- 
 serted because of lack of funds and perhaps, 
 too, because of the hardships which were en- 
 dured by the men in charge. 
 
 '^What hardships?'' inquired John; '* I 
 should think 'twould be great living up above 
 everybody else like that ! ' ' 
 
 But the head-porter of whom he asked the 
 question had been years at Fort William, had 
 even talked once or twice with Mr. Robert 
 Omond himself, the first head of the observa- 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 113 
 
 tory, and he told John of many undreamed-of 
 difficulties in connection with life 4,406 feet 
 above sea level. 
 
 He said that hares, foxes, and weasels sur- 
 rounded the men; that in summer scores of 
 energetic tourists climbed up to visit the ob- 
 servatory, troubling the men by their innumer- 
 able questions, whereas in winter not a human 
 face would they see and practically no news 
 would they hear. In summer there are always 
 banks of dirty snow from which the delighted 
 August tourist can snowball, but winter brings 
 such storms and gales that it would sometimes 
 be impossible for the men to reach their instru- 
 ments only a few yards away, the windows 
 being entirely covered with drifts and the men 
 imprisoned. Sometimes there would be such a 
 dense fog that the men dared not trust them- 
 selves to move about for fear of falling from a 
 precipice. Seven inches of rain has been known 
 to fall in one day ; while again, even occasionally 
 in winter, there would be times when the ob- 
 servatory stood out clear-cut against the blue 
 sky, flooded with brilliant sunshine. 
 
 John was beginning to envy those men a 
 little less. *^ Were there many thunder- 
 storms^ '' he asked. 
 
 *^ It's too high for ower mony storms to hit 
 it," was the answer, ^^ but soomtimes the air 
 would be sae charged wi' electricity the men's 
 
114 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 hair would fair stand on end ; and once the tele- 
 graph apparatus was burned out wi' the light- 
 ning. Ay, I ken that fine ! I Ve heard the men 
 tello'itmyselM" 
 
 As the train carried them off toward Perth 
 the next day, the clouds lifted here and there 
 enough to show them something of Ben Nevis ; 
 but, as Mrs. Pitt suggested, they would have to 
 return sometime and remain until fine weather 
 permitted them to really see this mountain in all 
 its grandeur. 
 
 Slowly the engine wound its way between the 
 mountains, now puffing up grade, now skirting 
 the border of a wild, dark lake. The Grampian 
 Mountains were beautiful, but oh, so lonely on 
 this gray day of rain and cloud ! 
 
 The distance from Fort William to Perth 
 appears very short upon the Scottish map, but 
 to Mrs. Pitt and the rest the trip seemed far too 
 long. They were seven hours on the way and 
 three times did they change trains before they 
 pulled into Perth, which Mrs. Pitt promptly 
 styled ^* dirty, damp, and drunken," as indeed 
 she had reason to. 
 
 However, they were only to stay the night 
 there, and practically all that they saw on a 
 short walk along the gloomy streets, were the 
 site of the monastery where King James I was 
 assassinated in 1437 when he had come from 
 Edinburgh to spend Christmas, and the house 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 115 
 
 where lived Scott's '' Fair Maid of Perth." 
 This house shows signs of recent restoration, 
 although parts of its walls are very ancient and 
 it possesses a little round turret bearing the 
 date 1393. 
 
 ** Hm! The maid needn't have been much of 
 a peach to look fair in Perth! '' was John's 
 brief comment. 
 
 Half an hour's ride in a tram-car brought 
 them to the gates of Scone Palace, a great 
 stone mansion which is now the seat of the Earl 
 of Mansfield. A flag was seen flying from the 
 highest turret, and they well recognized this 
 as a warning that the family was in residence 
 and that visitors were to keep a respectful dis- 
 tance. Consequently they could only recall, 
 while waiting for the tram to start on its return 
 trip, that to the monastery which stood upon this 
 site did Kenneth II carry the Stone of Destiny 
 in 834. Mrs. Pitt told them how it was placed 
 in the monks' burying-ground, and how, in the 
 event of a coronation, it was covered with cloth 
 of gold, and the king conducted to it by the 
 proudest nobles of his realm. The crowds 
 were allowed to watch the scene from the Mount 
 of Belief or '^ Boot Hill," its name being ac- 
 counted for by a strange tradition. These same 
 nobles, when attending a coronation ceremony, 
 are said to have partly filled their boots with 
 soil from their native districts; each was thus 
 
ii6 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 standing ^' on Ms own land," as was required. 
 The king being duly crowned, the boots were 
 always emptied in one spot which in time be- 
 came ^' Boot Hill.'' 
 
 The following morning dawned brightly. 
 Passing close by old Glamis Castle, famed for 
 its connection with the story of Macbeth and 
 King Duncan and where is still carefully pre- 
 served the gay motley suit worn by the last 
 jester to a Scottish laird, the early train brought 
 them to Forfar Junction. Here they boarded a 
 train of the little branch line running to Kir- 
 riemuir or ^^ Thrums,'' as Barrie calls it. 
 
 The season being that of the ^^ summer holi- 
 days " when most shops and factories are 
 closed and everywhere a gala atmosphere pre- 
 vails, the platform was crowded and the few 
 coaches full many minutes before time for the 
 train to start. Plainly troubled at the thought 
 of having to put on another car, the wizened 
 little station-master walked up and down, tap- 
 ping the men on the shoulders to ask anxiously : 
 *' Are all o' ye goin' to Kirriemuir, or are some 
 o' ye juist hangin' aroond? " 
 
 There are two great stone mills in the hol- 
 low, close by the little burn which flows through 
 Kirriemuir. These have taken over all the work 
 which, in former days, each weaver did on his 
 own hand-loom ; few, if any, people remain who 
 still hold to the old-fashioned method of weav- 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 117 
 
 ing, and in consequence the sound of the shuttle 
 is seldom heard. In the time of Barrie's '' Sen- 
 timental Tommy " the two most conspicuous 
 colors to be seen in Thrums were orange and 
 blue, — the orange of the masons' trousers 
 stained by dust from the quarry and the bril- 
 liant blue of the hearthstones. Times must 
 change, however, and Thrums is less pic- 
 turesque now, even going so far as to print and 
 sell a penny guide which lays great stress upon 
 the town's advantages as a summer resort. It 
 has yet a few quaint corners, and Mrs. Duncan, 
 Barbara's and Philip's old nurse, actually 
 boasts a blue hearthstone. 
 
 Mrs. Duncan lives alone in a cottage not far 
 from the celebrated '^ Window in Thrums " 
 house, to reach which it is necessary to leave 
 Kirriemuir 's largest square, dive down a rough, 
 steep lane, cross the bridge over the burn, and 
 pantingly climb the brae, — the brae upon which 
 Jess looked down from her tiny window for 
 so many years. 
 
 '' Who was she! " John asked, taking Mrs. 
 Pitt's handbag and umbrella from her as they 
 paused for breath at the steepest point of the 
 brae. It was a moment or two before she could 
 answer. 
 
 ^^ Sometime you must read about Jess in 
 Barrie's book, ' A Window in Thrums.' With 
 her husband, Hendry, and her daughter, Leehy, 
 
ii8 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 she lived in this little whitewashed cottage 
 which you can just see near the top of the brae ; 
 but Jess was an invalid and could only walk 
 with help from her bed to her chair. So she 
 sat all day long by her window, and when she 
 was not busy with her sewing or her baking, she 
 was watching the carts and the people going up 
 and down the brae. Jess managed to know al- 
 most everything that happened in Thrums. 
 Now you can see her window, the one in the 
 gable. ' ' 
 
 '' But the window was in the kitchen, really! " 
 Barbara protested. 
 
 '' Ah, yes! That was Barriers own change. 
 He couldn't describe the house exactly, you 
 know! Who expects story-writers to do that? " 
 
 Most of the Thrums houses are built of red 
 sandstone from the hillside quarry, but the 
 old ones are either dark and weather-stained or 
 whitewashed. Jess's cottage periodically re- 
 ceives its coat of white and it now has a slated 
 roof. A neat sign announcing the name of the 
 house and the fact that lemonade and souvenirs 
 are on sale within makes it clear that the pres- 
 ent occupants are entirely up to date. It was a 
 sad disappointment not to find a roof of thatch 
 with heavy ropes to prevent the wind from 
 carrying it away. They went past Jess's cot- 
 tage and hurried on. Mrs. Duncan would be 
 expecting them. 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 119 
 
 * ^ My certie ! ' ' exclaimed the good woman, 
 as she met them at her own door. ^' I was 
 keekin' frae my window and before I heard the 
 chap at the door, I saw Miss Barbara i' the 
 garden. But I didna ken it was herseP for a 
 meennte. I thought ' Ye canna draw my leg ' ; 
 Miss Barbara '11 never be that tall! Hoo are 
 ye! Hoo are jel Come awa' in! Your tea's 
 ready, Mrs. Pitt, ma'am! " Tea she must of 
 course partake of, even if lunch-time were an 
 hour away. 
 
 The outside of Mrs. Duncan's cottage much 
 resembled the ' ' Window in Thrums ' ' house ; 
 though old, it had been kept in good repair. 
 But inside, the owner had clung to old-fashioned 
 ways. Her kitchen has above all else a blue 
 hearthstone, as we have already learned; but 
 it has also a huge fireplace with an oven at the 
 side, and a row of stockings hung from a string 
 beneath the mantelpiece ; a ^ ^ hoddy-table ' ' for 
 ironing and baking, small so that it can be 
 slipped under the larger table at night ; and 
 last of all a genuine box-bed built into the wall. 
 
 ^^ Do you sleep there, Mrs. Duncan? " asked 
 Betty in amazement. 
 
 a There's no a doot but I do! " was the an- 
 swer. ''And I like it fine! It's sae warm 
 there near the vent [chimney] for an old body! 
 Ou, ay ! I wadna daur sleep in ony ither bed ! ' ' 
 
 Old people believe that box-beds are far su- 
 
I20 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 perior to others because of the convenience of 
 shutting a sick person away from any noise and 
 confusion by closing the folding doors, or of 
 being able to jump in and there undress quite 
 privately, no matter who might be in the kitchen 
 at the time. Thrums has not discovered the 
 fresh-air cure nor does it believe in sleeping- 
 porches. 
 
 '^ What's this? '' said John suddenly, putting 
 his hand into a small round hole in the kitchen 
 wall. It proved to be the place where Mrs. 
 Duncan kept her salt. 
 
 In the ^' room,'' or parlor of the cottage, 
 they saw a table on which stood a gayly painted 
 reading lamp and some books; several hair- 
 cloth chairs were set stiffly around the wall; 
 and there was an ordinary iron bed. Mrs. Dun- 
 can evidently respected the wishes of her guests 
 who did not share her love of the old customs. 
 Indeed not many could be found nowadays to 
 agree with her. 
 
 Of course, all these things were not seen in a 
 moment. While Mrs. Pitt helped Mrs. Duncan 
 in her preparations for luncheon and answered 
 the nurse's volley of questions, the children 
 climbed the ladder leading to the unfinished 
 attic where there was little beside dust and rub- 
 bish, wandered in the bit of a garden between 
 the house and the dusty road, and thoroughly 
 explored the cottage, especially admiring the 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 121 
 
 wonderful red-and-blue shepherd and shep- 
 herdess, with their accompanying cow and deer 
 of colored china, which were on the ' ' room ' ' 
 mantelpiece. 
 
 For their luncheon they had delicious cold 
 ham, bread and unsalted butter, more tea, jam, 
 scones, pancakes, and bridles, these last being 
 specialties apparently known only to Thrums. 
 They are three-cornered turnovers of pastry 
 with steak inside. 
 
 '' Some eats them hot and some cauld,'' said 
 Mrs. Duncan, flushing with pride at the interest 
 shown. 
 
 In general Mrs. Duncan shared the poor 
 opinion of Mr. Barriers books held by the 
 Thrums people. They consider that ^' nothing 
 happens '' in his stories, and they find it a 
 great bore to read about themselves and to 
 recognize their own habits and ways of speech. 
 But Mrs. Duncan, nevertheless, condescended 
 to walk with them about the town and to show 
 them '' the Den.'' 
 
 '' The Den " is to Thrums what '^ the 
 Islands " are to Inverness, a place for picnics 
 and games on evenings and holidays. ** The 
 Den " is a little green glen at the edge of the 
 town, inclosed by precipices and steep grassy 
 banks. Here " Sentimental Tommy," after he 
 had finished delivering the weekly paper from 
 London, for which service he was paid one 
 
122 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 penny a week, would join Ms sister and play- 
 mates in inventing delightful games. Children 
 were still playing here, and perhaps their games 
 did not differ very greatly from some of 
 Tommy's, — Tommy who could always " find 
 a wy. ' ' 
 
 '' Lemme see what those fellows are doing,'' 
 cried John excitedly, running towards one end 
 of the glen. " Looks something like baseball." 
 But when he saw that, while in playing ' ' Bee- 
 zee," the boys certainly do run to bases in a 
 perfectly intelligible fashion, they do not use 
 bats but wind a muffler around their right 
 hands, hitting the india-rubber balls with that, 
 he turned his back in disgust that knew no 
 words. 
 
 Instead of sa3dng " Time! " Betty noticed 
 that they called out "" Barley! " 
 
 *' What does it mean? " she asked, and was 
 told that, like many Scotch words, it probably 
 came from the French word parley, meaning 
 ^^ speak." 
 
 They noticed some smaller boys who were 
 playing a game of throwing buttons into little 
 holes which they had scooped out of the ground. 
 A Scotch boy prizes buttons as an American 
 does his marbles, and of these a button from a 
 soldier's coat is considered the choicest. Many 
 children were spinning tops, which they called 
 ** peeries." In shady nooks sprawled some of 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 123 
 
 the holiday-makers who had been their com- 
 panions on the morning train from Forfar. 
 
 Mrs. Pitt quoted for Betty and Barbara a 
 charming paragraph of Barriers in regard to 
 the size of ' ' the Den ' ' : 
 
 * ^ ^ If she be with you, the Den is so large that 
 you must rest here and there; if you are after 
 her boldly, you can dash to the Cuttle Well, 
 which was the trysting-place, in the time a stout 
 man takes to lace his boots; if you are of those 
 self-conscious ones who look behind to see 
 whether jeering blades are following, you may 
 crouch and wiggle your way onward and not be 
 with her in half an hour. ' ' ' 
 
 So, laughing, they started in search of Bar- 
 riers birthplace in ^' the tenements.'' 
 
 Kirriemuir is full of steep wynds and quaint 
 closes, and many of her dwellings have outside 
 stairs leading to a door in the second story. In 
 summer the old people sit at the top of these 
 steps and only stare when a camera is pointed 
 at their frilled caps, huddled shawls, and coarse, 
 patched clothing. In walking about one meets 
 many who, like the ladies of Cranford, seem to 
 reason : * ' Here everybody knows us ; away from 
 home nobody knows us ; so what matter how we 
 dress? " 
 
 As it was a holiday, they met the dulseman 
 in the square. On his wheelbarrow he had a 
 long box full of the reddish-brown seaweed, and 
 
124 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 a shorter box in which were ^' buckies " or sea- 
 snails. These the loiterers were buying as we 
 see Americans buy peanuts, the " buckies '' be- 
 ing pulled with pins from the shells, which 
 afterwards strew the pavement. 
 
 '^ Don't you remember,'' asked Mrs. Pitt, 
 *^ how dulse was one of Hendry's extrava- 
 gances? Oh, I forget that you children haven't 
 read the book! He used to pay the dulseman 
 about a bawbee (or halfpenny) every two weeks 
 to have his pockets stuffed full of dulse. These 
 men to-day are putting it in their pockets, but 
 the women hold out their aprons, don't they? " 
 
 *^ The tenements " is a block of old, plas- 
 tered houses in which live some of the poorest of 
 the weavers. In one of these cottages Barrie 
 spent the first nine years of his life, learning 
 there the ways and language of the humble 
 people; later, the author lived in a house very 
 near Hendry's cot, but strangely enough, he has 
 never been inside the cottage he has made so 
 famous. Not far from ^ ^ the tenements ' ' is the 
 *^ Auld Licht Manse," the home of Barrie 's 
 ^^ Little Minister." It is an ordinary plastered 
 cottage, perhaps a bit more pretentious than 
 some, having two full stories; it was Barrie 's 
 genius that made it of more interest than its 
 neighbors. 
 
 That evening the train to Perth took its own 
 time, arriving at its destination about forty- 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 125 
 
 five minutes late. But it was not crowded as 
 was the one they had taken that morning and 
 they had a compartment to themselves. All the 
 way Mrs. Pitt entertained the others with de- 
 scriptions of Scottish holidays and of odd plays 
 and customs among the children. 
 
 ^^ Christmas/' she said, '^ is not such a fa- 
 mous festival as with us in England. Long 
 ago, at the time of the Scottish Eeformation, 
 the people decided that there should be no Holy 
 Day except the Sabbath, and, as you know, the 
 Scotch, particularly the old people, cling to an- 
 cient ways. You 've heard about some who still 
 refuse to ride upon trams on Sunday ; your own 
 Dr. Van Dyke once whistled of a Sunday on a 
 village street and was sternly reproved by an 
 elder who said, ^ Young mon, do ye no ken it's 
 the Sawboth day? ' 
 
 *' But to continue about the holidays. The 
 greatest is New Year's, when the people begin 
 to celebrate on the last day of the old year. The 
 young men do not go to bed on that night and 
 at twelve o'clock they ring bells and start off on 
 a circuit of the village, making all the noise 
 they possibly can with singing, shouting, or 
 beating upon drums and tin pans. In years 
 gone by the boys used to make midnight calls 
 upon their friends, expecting to be offered re- 
 freshments. This they called ^ First Footing,' 
 but it is done but little in these modern times. 
 
126 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 Then, there's the children's day, the first Mon- 
 day in January, which is called ^ Hansel ' or 
 ^ Present Monday.' " 
 
 ''What do they do then?" asked Betty 
 eagerly, edging a little nearer Mrs. Pitt. 
 
 " It's the time they have their presents, just 
 as yon do on Christmas Day. People give them 
 bits of money and trinkets. The older people 
 go calling and each housewife must have on 
 hand a good supply of shortbread. On the first 
 of April the children play all the familiar 
 pranks, the favorite being to send people on 
 make-believe errands ; the day is called ' Gowk's 
 Errant Day.' In certain country places, one 
 of them being Drumtochty about which another 
 famous Scotch author, Ian Maclaren, has writ- 
 ten, ' Eastern's E'en,' the evening before Lent, 
 is celebrated by young and old as a time of 
 general merrymaking. At these gatherings 
 there are usually scones in which thimbles or 
 rings or threepenny-bits are baked. But really 
 the best holiday of them all is ' Hogmanay 
 Night.' " 
 
 Here Mrs. Pitt paused once more, this time 
 to search for their tickets, and John asked what 
 that strange name might mean. 
 
 " It may have come from the old greeting, 
 ' God be with you,' " she went on. " This is 
 also on the last night of the year. The chil- 
 dren go about in companies during the evening 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 127 
 
 and people give them food and small coins. 
 Best of all they like putting on funny costumes. 
 Here's the way a Scotch woman once described 
 ' Hogmanay Night ' ; see if you can understand 
 me when I imitate her speech. I must hurry, for 
 we're almost back to Perth! 
 
 '^ ' Soom blacks their faces wi' soot, wi' per- 
 haps a spot here and there o ' whitening. Ithers 
 hae false faces on. They wear auld coats, and 
 tie their trousers up wi' strae. I gey often 
 dress Jimmie as a wuman. I hae seen them no 
 kennin' him at a'. Soom wull hae penny 
 whustles, and they carry long sticks to pound 
 wi' when they dance. They gae a' through the 
 clachan to every hoose, and then to the farm- 
 hooses not too far awa'. They gae in wi' no 
 muckle knockin', an' the fowk say, " Why div 
 ye no begin to sing and dance? " One o' their 
 songs is this — 
 
 " ' " Get up, auld wife, and shake your feathers. 
 And dinna think that we are beggars, 
 We're juist a wheen bairns come oot tae playj 
 Rise up and gie us oor Hogmanay." 
 
 Before they go, the fowk treats them to oranges, 
 shortbread, or cake, and gies them usually a 
 penny apiece. They wuUna get hame till ten or 
 eleven o'clock, and soomtimes Jimmie hae near 
 twa shillings.' " * 
 
 * From " The Land of Heather," by Clifton Johnson. 
 
CHAPTER EIGHT 
 
 DUNFERMLINE 
 
 Promptly at nine-forty-four o'clock on a 
 misty morning, the number thirteen was dis- 
 played, and a man inside the little green box 
 called out Philip's and John's names. At St. 
 Andrews golf links one must await one's 
 turn. 
 
 The caddies also divide opportunities, it 
 seems, for young and old were alike lined up in 
 order behind an iron rail. The one who came 
 forward must have been aged about seventy- 
 five, but he stepped off as briskly as possible. 
 At St. Andrews most people live for the ^^ an- 
 cient and royal game," and for that alone. 
 
 *^ Well, I'd rather have a little younger cad- 
 die," muttered John, as he selected his driver 
 from among the other clubs, ^^ but I suppose 
 he '11 have to do ! " 
 
 Considering the presence of their anxious 
 friends and the crowd of interested spectators, 
 the two boys made a fairly respectable start, 
 and then they were off across the sand dunes 
 
 128 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 129 
 
 by the ocean, Mrs. Pitt, Barbara, and Betty 
 following under their sun-umbrellas. 
 
 *^ How proud John must be to be playing on 
 the oldest links in the whole world. I wish I 
 could play, too, but I don't know how! '' Betty 
 was stepping lightly over the close-cut lawn of 
 a putting-green, as she spoke. *^ How many 
 years have people been playing here, did you 
 say! '' 
 
 ** Oh, it was several hundred years ago that 
 the Scottish national game was first played, and 
 these old links have been famous ever since. 
 There is a new course now, but most people 
 still prefer to play on this ancient one which is 
 quite free to all. You have only to ballot for a 
 place. There are great golf meetings here in 
 May and October, and then the town is crowded ; 
 but at any time throughout the whole summer, 
 St. Andrews probably ranks as the most 
 fashionable resort in all Scotland. Look out 
 for the ball, Barbara! A man's just going to 
 drive! " 
 
 At St. Andrews all roads seem to lead to the 
 links; near by are the pavilions with their 
 music, and the beach with its benches and its 
 booths for the sale of ices and sweets; hotels 
 and shops also face this open field, the starting- 
 otf place for the golfers. At all hours of the 
 day and into the evening, too, for the twilights 
 are very long, men, women, and even children 
 
I30 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 may be seen wending their way in this direction, 
 each carrying a golf-bag of well-worn sticks 
 and each wearing a determined air as he strides 
 along. Golf at St. Andrews is a business as well 
 as a pastime. 
 
 The day was very warm and close ; instead of 
 lifting, the mist grew denser until it covered the 
 sun. Mrs. Pitt was trying in vain to persuade 
 the boys not to go around again, when the rain 
 began and settled the question. 
 
 ^ ^ Oh, come along, Philip ! ' ' John cried, mop- 
 ping his forehead energetically; ^' you don't 
 mind a little rain! There's some fellows start- 
 ing off just the same! " 
 
 But even as they discussed it the rain came 
 harder and harder and their aged caddie, still 
 fresh, admitted that the weather would ^ ' maybe 
 be saf t a wee. ' ' Reluctantly the two sportsmen 
 were led away to their lunch. 
 
 That afternoon, in spite of the rain, they 
 bravely went back into the town and then fol- 
 lowed South Street straight to the cathedral. 
 
 ^^ I want to show you boys what was here 
 at St. Andrews before golf was invented ; yes, 
 even as long ago as that! " said Mrs. Pitt, lead- 
 ing the way past many old closes, or alleys, and 
 quaint houses with red-tiled roofs. 
 
 Indeed, having turned one's back upon the 
 hotels, the links, and the tourists, one finds noth- 
 ing that even mildly suggests the modern. Old 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 131 
 
 houses, gateways, walls, carvings, castle, cathe- 
 dral, and university constitute the real town of 
 St. Andrews, long the center of the Scottish 
 Church, and the seat of one of Scotland's four 
 oldest universities. 
 
 John was bitterly disappointed and could not 
 help feeling that he had been deceived. ^* I 
 thought St. Andrews was a place where a fel- 
 low could play golf and enjoy himself," said he. 
 
 ^^ Oh, but he might be keen for cathedrals, 
 too, at least between games, John," argued 
 Philip dutifully, pulling him along after the 
 others. 
 
 High on a bluff above the water stands the 
 cathedral founded by Bishop Arnold who was 
 Bishop of St. Andrews from 1159-1163, in the 
 reign of Malcolm III. But within its borders 
 remain a smaller building and a high, square 
 tower which at first glance appear to be much 
 more modern than the ruin of the vast cathe- 
 dral. Strongly built of gray stone this little 
 church and huge tower of St. Eegulus contrast 
 strangely with the crumbling cathedral walls of 
 a warm reddish tone; yet the smaller edifice is 
 much older, dating from no one exactly knows 
 what early times. 
 
 ^^ The chronicles of the monks tell of its 
 mythical origin," said Mrs. Pitt, stepping close 
 to a sheltering wall for protection against the 
 rain. ^* They say that in 307, the monk 
 
132 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 Eegulus, being warned in a dream of some 
 calamity which should befall the remains of St. 
 Andrew the Martyr, took possession of a part 
 of them and sailed westward from the Holy 
 Land until he reached these rocks. There is a 
 cave below this cliff where the saint ^s bones 
 rested until Eegulus built the tower and church 
 to receive them. If this were proved true, ' ' she 
 added, *' the date of the little church would be 
 four hundred years earlier than that of any 
 other building in Scotland.'' 
 
 ** It's a very nice story, anyway," said Betty 
 approvingly. ^* Let's believe it." 
 
 The townspeople now use the cathedral 
 grounds as a kind of park ; children play around 
 the bases of the ancient pillars of the nave and 
 women perch on broken bits of the transept 
 wall, knitting busily. There are a number of 
 graves and monuments, one tablet being to the 
 memory of Tom Morris, the famous golfer, 
 with a relief showing him grasping a golf-stick. 
 
 ^^ I say! " exclaimed Philip, ^^ a man named 
 Tom Morris still plays golf and keeps a shop 
 near the links where you can buy sticks exactly 
 like the ones old Tom used. He's a descendant. 
 Did you know it, John? " 
 
 Near the cathedral entrance is a beautiful 
 gateway called the Pends, or Great Gate, which 
 doubtless once led to some religious building; in 
 the neighboring Dean's Court is another gate- 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 133 
 
 way bearing the coat of arms of George Doug- 
 las of Loclileven. 
 
 ^' Fancy! the boy who helped Mary Queen 
 of Scots escape from Lochleven Castle! '' said 
 Barbara promptly. '' IVe always liked him! '' 
 
 St. Andrews Castle is very finely situated 
 overhanging the sea, and like the majority of 
 those in Scotland it has its host of memories. 
 At first it was the quiet home of the Bishops of 
 St. Andrews, but its splendid position soon at- 
 tracted the attention of kings and warriors. 
 Edward I of England took it in 1298; here 
 James III of Scotland was born ; from its ram- 
 parts John Knox, the reformer, once saw the 
 approach of a French fleet; and here was the 
 martyrdom of George Wishart who died for his 
 faith, and the murder of Cardinal Beaton, who 
 had cruelly brought about Wishart 's death. 
 
 * ^ Its associations with Wishart and Cardinal 
 Beaton are the most interesting pages of the 
 castle's history," remarked Mrs. Pitt; ^* some- 
 time you will study much about these two men 
 and then you'll remember St. Andrews.'' 
 
 As at the cathedral, people use the ruined 
 castle as a pleasure ground. Although it was 
 raining hard, ladies were contentedly sitting on 
 the benches, reading or sewing under their um- 
 brellas ; nurses in long blue or brown capes and 
 bonnets with streamers strolled about with their 
 charges ; and larger children, carrying little wet 
 
134 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 bundles, it was plain to see had been in bathing. 
 
 In an alley leading towards the old colleges 
 they encountered a number of people watching 
 an escaped gray and rose-colored parrot which 
 had lighted upon the top of a gray old wall. A 
 man was trying in every possible way to cap- 
 ture it, but was finally forced to see it fly away 
 into an adjoining garden. 
 
 * * My, I didn't know they could fly like that ! ' ' 
 burst out John. '^ I guess some old lady's 
 pretty mad! " 
 
 As it was very late and very rainy they did not 
 fully appreciate the blackened, carved buildings 
 of the old university and its church, but Mrs. 
 Pitt told them how it had been founded &ve 
 hundred years ago, lacking only a few months. 
 
 ^* Do any of you realize,'' she asked, '^ that 
 until about the year 1370, not one nobleman 
 in the country could so much as write his own 
 name? Forty years later this university was 
 founded and so much was it needed that when 
 the troublous times came to destroy both the 
 castle and great cathedral, the little university 
 lived on; it struggled much, but it still lived. 
 There are now several colleges included in the 
 university, St. Mary's, St. Salvator's, and St. 
 Leonard's, and their buildings are scattered 
 about this old town in quaint nooks and corners. 
 It would take more time than we can give to 
 explore them all, but I think I have made it 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 135 
 
 clear for what St. Andrews stands, aside from 
 its golfing." 
 
 The following morning they took train for 
 Kinross on Lochleven. In their carriage was a 
 small boy, whose father and mother had been to 
 his school to bring him home for the summer 
 holidays. The boy was clinging fast to a book 
 which had been awarded him that morning at 
 the ^^ prize-giving. ' ' 
 
 ^' Oh, they give you prizes like that at Com- 
 mencement, do they I Let's see the book! ^ Ba- 
 con's Essays M What can you do with that? " 
 demanded John, a little rudely. ^^ To-day's 
 July 25th, too ! It must be awful not to have 
 vacation begin until then. When do you have 
 to go back to school! " 
 
 The boy was very intelligent in spite of his 
 youthful kilt and bare knees. He told John 
 that the holidays would last until September 
 25th only, but that he had a month free at 
 Christmas time and another at Easter. He had 
 spent one vacation at Aberdeen, he told them 
 with much pride, a big, important, busy place, 
 all built of gray granite. In the moonlight it 
 looked like a fairy city. 
 
 Soon he turned back to his parents, however, 
 and John and Betty were amused to hear much 
 familiar talk about the masters and about plans 
 for the holidays. The father could not keep his 
 hands off his boy, try as he would, and he was 
 
136 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 continually telling him stories abont the old 
 black cat or the new green dachshund. 
 
 ^^ IVe never seen a green one before, have 
 you? '' he would ask, at which joke the boy 
 always giggled appreciatively. 
 
 The two parties separated at a junction, and 
 soon Mrs. Pitt and the others stepped down at 
 Kinross. 
 
 *^ Baedeker says that Lochleven has the finest 
 fishing in the British Isles,'' announced Betty, 
 forgetting for a moment what a hard thing that 
 would be for her brother to hear. 
 
 But this time John was reasonable. He real- 
 ized that they had come to see the ruin of a 
 castle which stands on an island in the gray 
 loch, and that see it they must in the two short 
 hours before their train should leave. 
 
 The loch was gray because of a cloudy sky 
 and a high wind. People in the village seemed 
 greatly astonished that any lady should wish 
 to cross the rough waters to see a bit of tum- 
 bling ruin, but at last Mrs. Pitt did discover 
 two idle fishermen who agreed to row them over 
 for ^ve shillings. It proved not at all danger- 
 ous, only a trifle unpleasant, this tossing about 
 on the white-capped waves; it was not easy to 
 make a landing at the frail wooden pier, but 
 they jumped eagerly to shore and went towards 
 the castle. 
 
 Under a doorway in a long, high wall they 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 137 
 
 passed, and then found themselves in the castle 
 courtyard, now grass-grown and surrounded by 
 the ancient ramparts on which one may walk 
 through the tall weeds. In the midst of the 
 court rises the old five-storied keep, an excellent 
 example of the fourteenth-century style. 
 
 ^< Why, the door isn't on the ground floor! '* 
 exclaimed Betty; *' how funny! How could 
 they get in? '' 
 
 * ^ It is true that the keep has a basement, then 
 a first floor on a level with the court, and no 
 main entrance except in the second floor which 
 it needed a ladder to reach,'' Mrs. Pitt ex- 
 plained. ^^ It was probably for greater safety 
 and may be seen in a good many keeps of the 
 period." 
 
 The children explored the dungeons, and then 
 crossed to a ruined tower opposite where were 
 Mary Queen of Scots' apartments during her 
 imprisonment. Here they loitered long, talking 
 of Queen Mary. 
 
 *^ She was only twenty-five at the time," said 
 Mrs. Pitt, *^ and yet, think of the experiences 
 she had had! Her mother was French, you 
 remember, and Mary was sent to France when 
 a little child. She dearly loved that country 
 during her whole life. Mary was married, when 
 still very young, to the Dauphin of France, 
 and for a short time she was Queen; but her 
 husband died, and she came home to be Queen 
 
138 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 of Scotland, which must have seemed like a very 
 cold and uncivilized country to her. But I 
 mustn't try to tell you her whole story now! 
 Just before she came here, her second husband, 
 Lord Darnley, had been assassinated. Civil 
 war followed, for the people suspected their 
 Queen of having planned this murder in order 
 that she might be free to marry the Earl of 
 Bothwell, who, also, may have had his share in 
 the plot. Mary fell into the hands of her ene- 
 mies and was brought here to be a prisoner 
 at the castle of Lord and Lady Douglas of 
 Lochleven. ' ' 
 
 ^^ But she escaped from here," put in Betty, 
 who was very familiar with that famous Waver- 
 ley novel, '' The Abbot," in which Scott tells 
 of Mary's adventures in this castle. 
 
 ^^ Yes, after several attempts, she actually 
 did escape," began Mrs. Pitt; and then they 
 recalled young George Douglas, son of the Lord 
 and Lady of the castle, who served his Queen 
 so faithfully. His father guessed towards what 
 end the boy was working, and forbade him to 
 enter the castle. He, therefore, took lodgings 
 in the town and calmly went on with his plans. 
 Once Mary almost got away by disguising her- 
 self in the poor clothes of the laundress who 
 had come to deliver her work. Seated in the 
 boat, the Queen's face was covered, but at some 
 rude advance of a boatman she put up her 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 139 
 
 hands and was instantly recognized. Althougli 
 the rowers refused to take the Queen to her 
 destination, realizing her helplessness they did 
 promise not to tell of her attempted escape. 
 
 ^' But it was Willie Douglas, the orphan, 
 who took the castle keys from beside Sir Wil- 
 liam Douglas's plate while he was eating his 
 dinner and gave them to the Queen. They 
 locked the gates after them and threw the keys 
 into the lake.'' 
 
 ** No, no, John! It wasn't just like that," 
 corrected Betty, producing a leather copy of 
 ^^ The Abbot " which no one knew she had 
 brought. ^^ Wait until I find the place! I'll 
 read it to you. It was really Willie Douglas 
 who did so much to help, but in the book he's 
 Koland Graeme, you know. It's a much nicer 
 name! There, this is where it tells about how 
 he got the keys," and they all listened while 
 she read: 
 
 * * ' The keys had, with the wonted ceremonial, 
 been presented to the Lady Lochleven. She 
 stood with her back to the casement, which, like 
 that of the Queen's apartments, commanded a 
 view of Kinross, with the church, which stands 
 at some distance from the town, and nearer to 
 the lake, then connected with the town by strag- 
 gling cottages. With her back to this casement, 
 then, and her face to the table, on which the 
 keys lay for an instant while she tasted the vari- 
 
I40 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 ous dishes which were placed there, stood the 
 Lady of Lochleven, more provokingly intent than 
 usual — so at least it seemed to her prisoners — 
 upon the huge and heavy bunch of iron, the im- 
 plements of their restraint. Just when, having 
 finished her ceremony as taster of the Queen's 
 table, she was about to take up the keys, the 
 page [Eoland Graeme], who stood beside her, 
 and had handed her the dishes in succession, 
 looked sideways to the churchyard, and ex- 
 claimed he saw corpse-candles in the church- 
 yard. The Lady of Lochleven was not without 
 a touch, though a slight one, of the superstitions 
 of the time ; the fate of her sons made her alive 
 to omens, and a corpse-light, as it was called, in 
 the family burial-place boded death. She 
 turned her head towards the casement — saw a 
 distant glimmering — forgot her charge for one 
 second, and in that second were lost the whole 
 fruits of her former vigilance. The page held 
 the forged keys under his cloak, and with great 
 dexterity exchanged them for the real ones. 
 His utmost address could not prevent a slight 
 clash as he took up the latter bunch. ^' Who 
 touches the keys? *' said the Lady; and while 
 the page answered that the sleeve of his coat 
 had stirred them, she looked round, possessed 
 herself of the bunch which now occupied the 
 place of the genuine keys, and again turned to 
 gaze on the supposed corpse-candles.' " 
 
 ** I say, Roland Graeme was clever! " cried 
 Philip enthusiastically. 
 
 ** Mother, here's a picture of Mary going 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 141 
 
 down the castle steps directly into the boat. 
 How could she when this tower is such a long 
 way from the water I ' ' asked Barbara, who had 
 taken the book from Betty to look it over. 
 
 *^ But the island was much smaller then, and 
 these walls rose from the water's edge. The 
 loch was once drained, too; I believe that ac- 
 counts for the change.'' 
 
 *^ I'm going to begin reading * The Abbot ' 
 all over again right away, even if I have read it 
 ^ve times already! " declared Betty, as they 
 went back to the boat. 
 
 The fishermen were so bent upon having an 
 extra shilling apiece because of their long wait 
 that they almost made Mrs. Pitt lose the Edin- 
 burgh express. Wild as Betty was to arrive 
 there, she was forced to stop over one train at 
 ancient Dunfermline to see the Bruce 's grave in 
 the old abbey, the second church on this site, the 
 first having been built by Queon Margaret, 
 sainted wife of Malcolm Canmore. A fine brass 
 tablet, placed there more than five hundred 
 years after Bru(ie's death, now marks the spot 
 where he lies. 
 
 ** You told us that they buried his heart at 
 Melrose," said John; ^^ thought they left the 
 rest of him in the Holy Land! " 
 
 Adjoining the abbey grounds is an old palace 
 where King Charles I of England was born ; it 
 has a splendid old gateway under which the 
 
142 JOHN AND BETTY 
 
 street now passes. Opposite, by way of con 
 trast, is Pittencrieff Park, a pretty little glen 
 presented to the town by Andrew Carnegie, who 
 was born close by in a tiny cottage with dormer 
 windows. 
 
 At a place called Queensferry, so named be- 
 cause Queen Margaret used to land there when 
 on her way from Edinburgh to her abbey of 
 Dunfermline, their train began the crossing of 
 the famous Forth Bridge over the great bay 
 called the Firth of Forth. This bridge has been 
 pronounced the greatest construction of the 
 world, but John refused to believe that it is any 
 more remarkable than the new bridges at New 
 York until Mrs. Pitt quoted some figures which 
 convinced him. 
 
 *' I understand there is a bridge being built 
 over the St. Lawrence at Quebec which will 
 surpass this, however," said she, as the train 
 again reached the shore and hurried on towards 
 the city. 
 
 So about ten o 'clock that evening they arrived 
 in Edinburgh, and Betty was able to peep from 
 her window at that wholly delightful place which 
 has never entirely outgrown Walter Scott's 
 name for it, — " mine own romantic town." 
 
 1 
 
CHAPTER NINE 
 
 THE FIKST DAY IN EDINBURGH 
 
 '* Do hustle up with your hat, Betty! We're 
 awfully late! I heard a bugle from the castle 
 ages ago, and I'm sure the soldiers have 
 started! " 
 
 ^' All right; I'm coming," said Betty, sud- 
 denly appearing from behind the heavy cur- 
 tains. " But I could look and look forever out 
 that window at the castle! Yes, I know Mrs. 
 Pitt's waiting, and I'll be ready in a minute. 
 Oh, John, run and get your other gloves, please ! 
 I told you last night you mustn't wear those to 
 church! " 
 
 Mrs. Pitt and Barbara were already in the 
 carriage when Philip, John, and Betty came 
 down; they drove along Princes Street, up 
 across the Mound, and, turning into the High 
 Street, they stopped at St. Giles' Cathedral, 
 Edinburgh's Westminster Abbey. 
 
 All the way Betty had been exclaiming, ^^ It's 
 even nicer than I thought ! When I looked out 
 the window last night, I could just see the Scott 
 Monument and the Calton Hill and St. Giles' 
 
 143 
 
144 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 steeple and, of course, the dear castle, and I 
 truly decided it was perfect; but it's nicer in 
 the daytime, after all. I'm too happy for 
 words! Haven't I been wanting to see Edin- 
 burgh for years and years, John I You know 
 I have! " 
 
 *^ Well, then, you're here; so you needn't talk 
 so much about it," said John severely. 
 ** Listen! I think they're coming! " 
 
 Sure enough, there in the distance was the 
 weird droning of bagpipes ; it grew louder and 
 louder until, outside the cathedral's western 
 door, it finally ceased. From their seats under 
 the high central pulpit, Mrs. Pitt and the others 
 could see the soldiers march in, two by two, the 
 members of the military band taking their 
 places in front of the organ, and the rest filling 
 the middle part of the church, always reserved 
 for them at this early morning service. 
 
 * * It 's rather a pity that there are so few to- 
 day," whispered Mrs. Pitt. '^ Usually ^ve or 
 six hundred are here, but some must be away 
 now, at camp, perhaps." 
 
 To strangers, however, the church seemed full 
 of men in bright colors, — colors which made odd 
 patches of brilliancy among the somber 
 shadows. The men of the band were in High- 
 land kilts; most of the soldiers were of the 
 Eoyal Scots, in scarlet coats and trousers of 
 Eoyal Stuart plaid, but some wore the green- 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 145 
 
 and-white Gordon plaid, brightened by splendid, 
 shining buckles. 
 
 ^ ' Some of them are pretty old, ' ' began John, 
 speaking softly to Philip, ^ ' but a few of the lit- 
 tle fellows don't look any older than we are. 
 
 See that one in the third row, there; he^ " 
 
 But just then the band began to play a hymn, 
 and they all rose to sing. 
 
 The wind instruments are played gently, and 
 one is really surprised that they can take the 
 place of an organ so well. One is soon accus- 
 tomed to the unusual sound, and does not feel 
 it to be inappropriate. 
 
 Behind her hymn-book Barbara was whisper- 
 ing to Betty, ^^ Mrs. Duncan's mother used to 
 say it was dreadful to play an organ in the kirk, 
 because it was ^ praising God by machinery.' 
 Fancy! What would she have thought of 
 this? " 
 
 The men from the castle were most quiet and 
 attentive throughout the whole service, much 
 quieter than the rest of the congregation, chiefly 
 composed of curious tourists who stared im- 
 politely at the picturesque uniforms and made 
 low-voiced comments one to another. The 
 benediction pronounced, all left by the western 
 door, lingering in Parliament Square to see the 
 soldiers form in line and march up the hill to 
 the castle, the band again in the lead. 
 
 *^ Can't we go back into the cathedral now? " 
 
146 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 asked Betty, as they turned away. ^* There's 
 heaps I want to see in there ! '' 
 
 They were met by a cold verger, however, 
 who informed them that it was ^^ hardly in 
 order '' to allow visitors to inspect the church 
 between services. 
 
 ^' No matter; we'll come back to-morrow, 
 Betty," said Mrs. Pitt. '' I told the driver he 
 need not wait, so we'll walk back to the hotel. 
 We've a drive planned for this afternoon, re- 
 member ; and this is the day for writing letters. 
 Yes, yes, that must be done, even if you are in 
 Edinburgh, Betty ! " 
 
 ^^ My! " cried John; ^^ they've got some reg- 
 ular sky-scrapers here, haven't they! " 
 
 *' Oh, you see. New York has only copied 
 Edinburgh, after all," laughed Mrs. Pitt, as 
 they stood looking down the deserted High 
 Street. ' ' These tall houses are called ^ lands, ' 
 and are now tenements where very poor people 
 live. There have been some nine or ten stories 
 high, I believe, and they say that in the Cow- 
 gate there was once a building of fifteen 
 stories." 
 
 ** But why did they make them so high 
 here? " inquired Betty. ^' They weren't like 
 that in London. ' ' 
 
 '* It's all part of the story of how Edinburgh 
 was built," Mrs. Pitt answered, as they again 
 went down the hill towards the Mound. ^ ' The 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 147 
 
 story is very, very interesting, and I shall tell 
 you all about it. Let me see," she paused to 
 glance at her watch ; ' ^ yes, I think we can spare 
 the time. We'll sit down in the Princes Street 
 Gardens here, and I can at least begin my story 
 for you. ' ' 
 
 On a warm, bright Sunday these gardens, be- 
 tween gay Princes Street and the great steep 
 rock of Edinburgh Castle, are always crowded. 
 Children tumble about on the grass, — a little 
 burned by the unusually hot sun ; beneath shady 
 trees men stretch, asleep, with hats over their 
 faces ; sweethearts occupy most of the benches, 
 particularly those in out-of-the-way nooks ; and 
 the broad paths are thronged with happy work- 
 ing-people, out for a day in the open air and 
 sunshine. 
 
 Mrs. Pitt had a considerable search before 
 she found an empty bench where she could sit 
 with the two girls, leaving Philip and John to 
 content themselves with the lawn. And so, sur- 
 rounded by the people of modern Edinburgh, 
 they talked of the Edinburgh of long ago. 
 
 Looking high above them at the blackened 
 sides and buildings of the castle rock, Mrs. Pitt 
 said : " Of course, wherever there is such a rock 
 as this, there is bound to have been a fortress in 
 very early times. Legend says that the ancient 
 Picts built a castle here, where they were in the 
 habit of keeping their princesses until fitting 
 
148 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 husbands could be found for them. When we 
 go up to the castle, you will see the tiny chapel 
 built by Queen Margaret Canmore ; she and her 
 husband lived on this old rock, considering it the 
 safest place in their kingdom for the royal 
 dwelling. ' ' 
 
 < i There used to be water where these gardens 
 are now; isn't that so, Mother? '' 
 
 ** Yes, indeed, Barbara; the great Nor' Loch 
 was here, and served to make the huge castle 
 rock even safer from attack. On the south side, 
 where the street called the Cowgate is now, was 
 a burn, or little stream. How different the 
 place must have been when the entire city, in- 
 closed by walls, was made up of the one long 
 street running from the castle to Holyrood 
 Palace ! 
 
 *^ And so we have royalty living here at the 
 castle; not long after, the monks were estab- 
 lished at Holyrood, and this is how it came 
 about. In 1128, King David, son of Malcolm 
 and Margaret Canmore, was out hunting one 
 day, when he became separated from his com- 
 panions. In the valley, east of the castle, was 
 the wild Forest of Drumsheugh, and there the 
 king was wandering alone, when he was at- 
 tacked by a white stag. He had given up hope 
 of being rescued, when, suddenly, a silver cloud 
 covered him, and there appeared a shining cross 
 or ' rood.' The stag at once fled, and thus the 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 149 
 
 king was saved. That night he had a vision in 
 which St. Andrew bade him build a monastery 
 on the site of his wonderful escape from death. 
 Thus the Abbey of Holyrood was founded, the 
 King giving the canons power to govern them- 
 selves in a separate community of their own." 
 
 Here Mrs. Pitt paused, and Betty said 
 thoughtfully, * ^ Then the kings were here at the 
 castle, and the monks at the other end of the 
 long ridge of rock. I see. Please go on, Mrs. 
 Pitt.'' 
 
 ** Naturally the canons had often to travel 
 along the ridge to see their sovereigns, and 
 the street became known as the Canongate, gaet 
 being the Saxon word for street. Nearer the 
 castle, it was called the King's Hie Street; and 
 where the Canongate and the High Street met 
 was a big city gate, the Netherbow Port. As 
 the place grew, the nobles and courtiers lived as 
 near the castle as possible, but all the religious 
 men, connected with the abbey, built their pal- 
 aces in the Canongate." 
 
 ^* Well," demanded John, who was growing 
 a bit impatient, '' when are you coming to the 
 sky-scrapers? " 
 
 *^ I've come to them now," laughed Mrs. Pitt. 
 ** The strange little city, built all on the ridge 
 of rock, had to be protected by walls, because 
 the English and other enemies were almost con- 
 stantly to be feared. No one dared to live out- 
 
I50 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 side these walls. As Edinburgh grew, closes, 
 or passages, were made between the buildings, 
 and houses were built on the steep slopes of the 
 ridge; finally, the walls were extended to in- 
 clude the Cowgate, too, but then, for a long time, 
 it was impossible for the city to spread any 
 more. It could not grow and cover more 
 ground, so it grew upwards, John, and people 
 added many stories to the buildings." 
 
 ** Just the same reason they have to make 
 them so high in New York, ' ' declared John tri- 
 umphantly. *^ I've heard Father say so! '' 
 
 ^* John! Why will you insist on comparing 
 horrid New York with lovely things over 
 here? " objected his long-suffering sister. 
 
 ** Mother, tell us just one more thing before 
 we go, please. Why do they call it the Mound, 
 that street we took to go up to the old town? '' 
 
 ** Only this one more story! Eemember! 
 And then those letters must be written! How 
 you children keep me talking! You must pic- 
 ture the great loch, then, on this side of the 
 castle, and close up against the rock. It served 
 as a protection from enemies, as a place for 
 pleasure-boating and for the ^ bonspiels ' or 
 curling on the ice in winter, and as a conveni- 
 ent place for drowning witches and for dumping 
 all sorts of nasty rubbish from the town above. 
 After Scotland was at peace with England, and 
 had no enemies to fear, people began to live 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 151 
 
 over here on Princes Street, then known as the 
 ^ Lang Gait ' ; and about this time the loch was 
 drained. People going from the old town over 
 to the new, found much discomfort in crossing 
 this muddy valley where the Nor' Loch had 
 been. George Boyd, a tailor, whose business 
 frequently took him into the new town, hit upon 
 the plan of dropping something in his path on 
 each trip, a board, a stick, or a stone. People 
 followed his example, until at last their many 
 contributions formed the Mound on which the 
 trams now run. It was originally known as 
 ' Geordie Boyd's Mud Brig.' " 
 
 They mounted the steps from the gardens to 
 Princes Street, grown from a narrow path in the 
 fields, which it was less than two hundred years 
 ago, into one of the finest streets in Europe. 
 
 Their own rooms saw John and Betty for a 
 good two hours, while the long home letters were 
 written. Luncheon followed; then the drive in 
 a taxicab around Arthur's Seat and out to 
 Craigmillar Castle. 
 
 Straight along Princes Street they went, pass- 
 ing the Greek-like National Gallery and the 
 Scott Monument with its graceful turrets. Just 
 beyond the Post Office, Mrs. Pitt pointed out the 
 little patch which yet remains of the ' ^ Old Cal- 
 ton Graveyard. ' ' 
 
 ** Many great and honored men have been 
 buried there," she told them. ^^ You've heard 
 
152 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 the name of David Hume, who was a philoso- 
 pher and a historian, and those of Alexander 
 Constable and William Blackwood, famous 
 Edinburgh publishers. Do you see a bronze 
 monument, Betty, of a tall man with a slave 
 kneeling at his feet I ' ' 
 
 < < Why, it 's our Abraham Lincoln ! ' ' John 
 and Betty exclaimed. * ^ How did he happen to 
 be here in Edinburgh *? " 
 
 *' The monument was erected to the memory 
 of one of the world's greatest men, and also to 
 commemorate the Scotch- American soldiers who 
 fell in your terrible Civil War. ' ' 
 
 << Why, here's another castle," cried John, 
 pointing to a huge building close by. ' ' I didn't 
 know there were two. ' ' 
 
 ^* It's the jail, John," said Mrs. Pitt, much 
 amused ; ' ^ but really I 'm not surprised that you 
 mistook it for another castle. Here 's the Royal 
 High School, at the foot of the Calton Hill. 
 That has an exceedingly interesting history, 
 which I must sometime tell you more about. The 
 big pillars on the top of Calton Hill are part 
 of a great National Monument which was never 
 finished. King George IV laid the foundation 
 stone in 1822, but the funds were very soon ex- 
 hausted. There's one consolation, though; the 
 unfinished building looks much like the ruined 
 Parthenon, which is one reason why people like 
 to call Edinburgh ^ the modern Athens.' " 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 153 
 
 They glanced at the gloomy pile of old Holy- 
 rood Palace and its adjoining ruined chapel, as 
 the motor car whirled them past; then they 
 climbed the sweeping curves of road up the 
 mountain of which the highest point is called 
 Arthur's Seat, after that English mythical king, 
 who fought much in the vicinity of Edinburgh, 
 according to some traditions. This is known as 
 the Queen's Drive, a very favorite place for car- 
 riages, motor cars, bicycles, and walkers on a 
 fine day, the views of Edinburgh, the surround- 
 ing country, and of the blue firth beyond the city 
 of Leith being truly superb. On the southern 
 side of the mountain they made the descent, 
 passing the curious column-like rocks called 
 * ' Samson 's Ribs, ' ' and following the road until 
 it brought them into picturesque Duddingston 
 village, with its loch. Close at hand is Craig- 
 millar Castle, among the trees on a hilltop. 
 
 *^ I'll scare up the woman with the keys," an- 
 nounced the capable John, running towards a 
 cottage. 
 
 To their vast disappointment he returned 
 with the news that the castle is never open on 
 Sundays; and, the caretaker having gone away 
 from home, they were not able to try their 
 powers of persuasion to change his rule. Over 
 the lower, outer walls, they could see the usual 
 square castle keep, and with this view they had 
 to be content. 
 
154 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 *^ It's no great matter," began Mrs. Pitt con- 
 solingly; ^^ but you might have seen Queen 
 Mary's room, the dungeons, a beautiful old 
 cedar-tree in the courtyard, and a truly fine 
 winding stair." 
 
 *^ Yes," exclaimed Barbara, ^* that's the 
 duckiest old winding stair I ever saw! I can 
 really imagine a queen and her court ladies 
 using it." 
 
 ^^ Quite so, Barbara! Mary Stuart at her 
 proudest could have swept down that stately 
 stair. Although the castle is very ancient, part 
 having been built in the thirteenth century, and 
 having had its connection with many great 
 events in Scottish history, it is as Queen Mary's 
 favorite summer residence that the place is best 
 known. From here the Queen could keep watch 
 over her city, as you see. Here it was, also, that 
 the fatal paper, providing for the murder of 
 Lord Darnley, was signed. ' ' 
 
 n There's something else that I remember, 
 Mother. In this corner of the outer court- 
 yard," and Philip stood on tiptoe and tried in 
 vain to peer over the high wall, '^ is what was 
 once a pigeon cote. Don't you know how in 
 those days they always kept pigeons to give to 
 strangers who came and asked for food? " 
 
 * * How nice of them ! ' ' Betty reflected, as they 
 stepped once more into the motor car. ** I 
 wonder if that was Queen Mary's plan." 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 155 
 
 On the way back to town they noticed many 
 interesting places and things, but Betty longest 
 remembered Jeanie Deans' cottage, with its 
 garden and stone seat, which Scott has made so 
 vivid to all readers of ** The Heart of Mid- 
 lothian. ' ' 
 
 '^ Oh, yes," said John, ^* we saw once where 
 she met Queen Caroline, on the long drive in 
 Eichmond Park, near London." It was much 
 for John to remember all that, and his sister 
 looked gratified. 
 
 Soon they were back at their hotel, John and 
 Betty flying at once to the window to see their 
 adored castle, now outlined against the soft sun- 
 set sky, and to listen eagerly for the soldiers' 
 bugles. 
 
CHAPTER TEN 
 
 OLD TIMES AND NEW AT EDINBURGH CASTLE 
 
 '* Want a guide, Miss? Guide for the 
 caustle! Show you the way to Mons Meg! 
 Take you to Queen Mary^s room, 'n' royal 
 jew 'Is, lady. This way! Guide; want a 
 guide? '' 
 
 All equally ragged and insistent, an army of 
 small boys lay in wait for Mrs. Pitt and the 
 others as they walked across the wide 
 Esplanade in front of the castle. These chil- 
 dren, who swarm about famous buildings and 
 in the various closes, are a perfect pest in Edin- 
 burgh streets. Sometimes each is telling dif- 
 ferent facts, and again, all are shrieking the 
 same information in one grand chorus. Usu- 
 ally it is impossible to understand the absurd 
 jumble produced by the combination of Scotch 
 accent and Latin and old English inscriptions; 
 but when intelligible, strangely enough, it is 
 fairly correct, bearing a vague likeness to what 
 one has read regarding the place of interest un- 
 der discussion. 
 
 * * He '11 be a guide, I suppose, when he grows 
 156 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 157 
 
 up, ' ' remarked Mrs. Pitt to Betty, with a glance 
 at a young red-haired Scotchman who was 
 dogging her footsteps. 
 
 Very promptly, not from Betty but from the 
 boy, came the answer, " Yes, Miss! " 
 
 ^* I say, Mother; let's hurry on! They're 
 disgusting! " Following Philip's advice, they 
 quickened their steps toward the drawbridge, 
 the youngsters gradually falling behind. 
 
 Griancing about the wide Esplanade, John in- 
 quired, ^^ This is where the soldiers drill, isn't 
 it? I had a picture once of rows and rows of 
 'em in my geography. ' ' 
 
 ** Yes, they sometimes drill here now, I 
 think," went on Mrs. Pitt, pausing to admire 
 the view, ^ ' but in olden times, — that is, between 
 about the years 1437 and 1670, — this was the 
 place of execution for supposed witches, so 
 many of whom were put to death about that 
 time. Some one has estimated that as many as 
 two thousand people were burned here, and they 
 were not all ugly and ill-tempered, either, some 
 of them being beautiful women who were en- 
 tirely innocent. There was young Lady Jane 
 Douglas, wife of Lord Glammis, but let's think 
 of more cheerful things. 
 
 ^ ' In the seventeenth century and in the early 
 part of the eighteenth, before the city was ex- 
 tended, here was the only promenade for the 
 fashionable citizens of Edinburgh. Many books 
 
158 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 and papers were issued denouncing the practice 
 of walking in the King's Park, near Holyrood, 
 and on the Castle hill, between the various 
 church services on Sunday. But here the 
 crowds would come in spite of the rebukes. 
 There is an old song which refers to this, ' ' and 
 Mrs. Pitt quoted : 
 
 "*Wat ye wha I met yestreen, 
 
 Coming down the street, my 30? 
 My mistress in her tartan screen, 
 Fu' bonny, braw, and sweet, my jo. 
 
 " « li My dear," quoth I, " thanks to the night, 
 That never wished a lover ill. 
 Since ye're out o' your mother's sight 
 Let's tak' a walk up to tlie hill."'" 
 
 After crossing the old moat, now quite empty, 
 but once filled with water pumped up from the 
 Nor' Loch, they were obliged to escape more 
 guides, this time professional ones. But in 
 Mrs. Pitt's eyes they were altogether unneces- 
 sary, as she knew well every inch of the old 
 castle. 
 
 '' This outer port is new, but has an ancient 
 door studded with great iron bolts," said she, 
 leading the way under it and up the road of 
 rough cobblestones toward the Portcullis Gate, 
 where one may yet see the groove in which an 
 iron portcullis once hung. Over this gate is the 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 159 
 
 Argyll Tower, so named because of the two Ar- 
 gylls, father and son, who were imprisoned 
 there and later executed for their loyalty to the 
 Presbyterian faith. 
 
 ^' Mother, wasn't it one of the Argylls who 
 was asleep just an hour before his execution? 
 You know, that picture at home in the Houses of 
 Parliament?" 
 
 *^ Yes, Barbara, that was the younger Ar- 
 gyll, who was brave and good up to the very 
 last. When he was in prison here in the castle, 
 on a previous occasion, he escaped in rather an 
 exciting way. Do any of you remember? 
 Some of his many enemies had contrived to 
 have him arrested for some slight offense, and 
 did not mean that he should escape, but his 
 daughter-in-law, Lady Sophia Lindsay, came to 
 his assistance. On the day before that ap- 
 pointed for the EarPs execution, this lady went 
 to say farewell to him, accompanied by her 
 footman. When she passed out to her carriage, 
 the guards noticed that there was something un- 
 usual in the bearing of the footman, who had 
 just then stepped clumsily on his mistress's 
 gown. Hearing her scold him severely, they 
 were reassured, however, and thus the Earl 
 escaped to Holland, where he was safe for four 
 years.'' 
 
 *' Yes," exclaimed John, ** but you say that 
 they caught him again, and finally finished him. 
 
i6o JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 There wasn't much chance for a fellow in those 
 days, not if he dared to breathe too hard! I'm 
 glad I live now! Come along up these steps, 
 Philip; isn't that old gun, Mons Meg, up 
 there? " 
 
 On one of the highest platforms, or batteries, 
 stands the famous gun called Mons Meg, about 
 the history of which there have been so many 
 opinions. An inscription on it tells that it was 
 forged at Mons, in Belgium, in 1476, but Walter 
 Scott held this to be false, believing that the 
 M'Lellans presented it to James II in 1455. 
 
 * * At any rate, it has played its part in Scotch 
 events, ' ' said Mrs. Pitt. ' ^ We know that it was 
 used at a siege of Dumbarton Castle in 1489; 
 the records in the Treasurer's book remind us 
 that eighteen shillings were paid to the gunners 
 for ^ drink money. ' The gun was fired to cele- 
 brate the marriage of Queen Mary to the 
 Dauphin of France in 1558; but in 1682, when 
 being fired to salute the Duke of York, it burst. 
 It was loaded with balls of granite, John. 
 Fancy! Mons Meg was taken to the Tower of 
 London, but its rightful place was always here, 
 and in 1829 it was brought back through the in- 
 fluence of Sir Walter Scott. But come, let's 
 look inside Queen Margaret's Chapel. It's one 
 of the oldest in all Scotland." 
 
 The chapel is a tiny building of gray stone, 
 only measuring sixteen by ten feet. It has now 
 
M 7 
 o J 
 
 o o 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT i6i 
 
 been restored and looks much as it did many 
 centuries ago. 
 
 ^' Do you see the ancient zigzag molding? '^ 
 asked Mrs. Pitt, *^ and the beautiful round 
 Saxon doorway with its carvings ? ' ' 
 
 ** Everybody seems to have loved this Queen 
 Margaret so very much/' reflected Betty. 
 '' Why did they, Mrs. Pitt? " 
 
 * ^ Well, dear, she must have been an unusually 
 lovely character. I'll tell you a little of her 
 story, if you care to hear it. She was the little 
 Saxon Princess Margaret, who was returning 
 from England to her grandfather's court in 
 Hungary, with her mother, her brother, and her 
 sister, when a storm arose and their ship was 
 blown upon the shores of Scotland. The royal 
 travelers came ashore at a place near the Forth 
 Bridge, and when rough, middle-aged King 
 Malcolm saw the lovely Princess Margaret, he 
 at once fell in love with her. To her husband's 
 people their new Queen brought many blessings. 
 First of all, she made them love her by showing 
 an interest in their welfare, and by trying to 
 help them. Having thus gained an influence 
 over them, she slowly taught them the gentler 
 manners and more refined ways of the Con- 
 tinental court where she had lived. And, last 
 of all, she herself was very religious. It is said 
 that although King Malcolm could not under- 
 stand the words in his young wife's prayer- 
 
1 62 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 books, he used to kiss them to show his rever- 
 ence for her and her beliefs. Yes, John, you 
 may go and talk to the soldiers ; certainly. But 
 I'm sorry you're not interested in Queen Mar- 
 garet. 
 
 '^ Long after this, when the King and his eldest 
 son went away to England to fight King William 
 Rufus, the Queen and their children moved from 
 Dunfermline to Edinburgh Castle for greater 
 safety. The Queen, who was very ill, had just 
 heard a service in her own little chapel here, 
 when one of her sons arrived with the dreadful 
 news that his father and brother had been killed 
 in a battle near Alnwick. The Queen died al- 
 most immediately. Her children had lost not 
 only their father and mother, but were also in 
 great danger, as Donald Bane, their uncle, 
 wished to gain the throne for himself and was 
 already besieging the castle. The Queen's 
 friend and servant, a monk called Turgot, was 
 much troubled as to how he could carry away 
 the children and their mother's body to safety; 
 but just then a wonderful fog came up, a fog 
 so dense that he was able to lead the way, in 
 much danger, out through a little postern gate 
 and down the steep rock. In due time the party 
 reached the Abbey at Dunfermline, and there 
 the King and Queen were buried. The room 
 where Queen Margaret died was long after- 
 wards called * ye blessit Margaret's chalmer.' " 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 163 
 
 ^' Which room was it? '^ asked John, who had 
 remained to listen, after all. 
 
 " No one knows where the room really was. 
 The buildings and rooms of a castle can hardly 
 remain the same during so many hundred 
 years.'' 
 
 Really, John should not be blamed for being 
 attracted to the soldiers who throng the castle. 
 In their scanty plaid trousers or kilts and 
 jaunty Scotch caps, dozens of them may always 
 be met with strolling about in carefree fashion, 
 lingering in sunny corners to chat, or admiring 
 the fine views in company with their sweet- 
 hearts from the city below. 
 
 * * They must have a corking time of it ! " ex- 
 claimed John. " Don't they ever have any- 
 thing to do except when there's a war? " 
 
 ' ' Oh, most of these men you see all about are 
 raw recruits who are being trained here. Yes, 
 I suppose they must have some duties and many 
 drills ; but it 's true that they always seem to be 
 enjoying life to the full." 
 
 '^ John just thinks he'd like to wear beautiful 
 plaid trousers that are too short for him, and 
 a hat over one ear, and a bright-red coat with 
 a shiny belt buckle! " laughed his sister, 
 soon adding wisely, " but he wouldn't like 
 it long. I know John. This is exactly like 
 his wanting to be a Horse Guard, down in 
 London." 
 
1 64 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 This was too much. John thought he was old 
 enough to know his own mind ; scorning any re- 
 ply, he turned and walked toward the Half- 
 Moon Battery. 
 
 Here all visitors note the '* One-o 'Clock 
 Gun," by which Edinburgh people daily set 
 their watches. By an electric wire, it is at- 
 tached to the time-ball on the top of Nelson's 
 Monument on Calton Hill, opposite; this ball 
 falls in response to a signal at Greenwich 
 Observatory, near London, where is set the 
 time for the whole world. Lost in his admira- 
 tion of this arrangement, John entirely forgot 
 to be angry with his sister. 
 
 ^' But here's something else you must see," 
 cried Mrs. Pitt, ** something vastly more inter- 
 esting than the ^ One-o 'Clock Gun,' that is, in 
 my opinion. Master John. Do you see this 
 square box, made of iron, and standing on four 
 legs? In 1455 a law was passed that on the top 
 of certain hills and castles should be these 
 boxes, ready for lighting at any moment. If it 
 was night, oil and tar were poured on to make 
 flames, and if in the day-time, straw v/as used 
 to make smoke. The instant danger was dis- 
 covered, these bale-fires were lighted, and it is 
 said that all Scotland could be warned in two 
 short hours. Good news was sometimes spread 
 in this way, too, such as the victory over the 
 Spanish Armada." 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 165 
 
 ^^ They don^t need to do it any more, of 
 course/' said Barbara. 
 
 ^^ No, I think the last time was in the year 
 1804, when the French were threatening; but 
 the old iron box is still here. ' ' 
 
 Entering old Palace Yard, the historically in- 
 teresting part of the Castle, they climbed a 
 winding stair to the Crown Room. Here, in a 
 gloomy, vaulted room and behind iron bars, is 
 the ^^ only ancient Regalia in Britain," Crom- 
 well having destroyed that of England. Some 
 believe the crown to date back as far as the age 
 of Bruce, but it is probably not older than the 
 reign of James V. 
 
 For some time they gazed at these gorgeous 
 jeweled objects, the crown, the sceptre, made in 
 Paris for James V, and the Sword of State pre- 
 sented to James IV by the Pope ; then Mrs. Pitt 
 spoke, softly so as not to disturb the other vis- 
 itors. 
 
 * ^ The Scottish Regalia has had many experi- 
 ences,'' she said. ^' The people feared that 
 Cromwell would destroy it, as he had that of 
 England, and so they sent it away to the castle 
 of Dunnottar. There, in a moment of great 
 danger, it was carried away in a bag of lint on 
 a woman's back, and hidden beneath the pulpit 
 of a neighboring parish church. The pastor 
 kept it there in safety for eight years. The 
 Regalia was saved! Then, at the time of the 
 
1 66 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 union of the two kingdoms, the people again 
 feared for its safety, and it was accordingly put 
 into this chamber, which was sealed up, with 
 an order that the door should never be opened. 
 Some eighty-odd years later the room was 
 broken open in a search for some valuable pa- 
 pers; the old chest was shaken, but made no 
 sound. For one hundred and ten years the 
 jewels remained in the chest, and people had 
 either entirely forgotten about them, or else 
 they laughed at the story of their existence. 
 But in 1818, influenced by Sir Walter Scott's 
 interest and his own curiosity, King George IV 
 ordered the locked room to be opened and a 
 thorough search to be made. Certain chosen 
 men and officials, among whom was Scott, in his 
 capacity of Clerk of Sessions, broke open the 
 rusty lock of the old chest, and, to their great 
 delight, found the long-lost Scottish Eegalia. 
 The eager, waiting crowd was immediately told 
 the glad news, a salute was fired, and there was 
 much rejoicing." 
 
 ^ ' And so they lived happily ever after ! ' ' put 
 in John, before Mrs. Pitt could get breath to 
 finish her story. 
 
 '' IVe not yet finished, John," said she, 
 calmly continuing after a smile at Betty's 
 troubled face. ^^ I was going to tell you of an 
 incident which shows how Scott regarded the 
 old treasures. Some little time after their dis- 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 167 
 
 covery, he and some friends came again to this 
 room, accompanied by a few ladies. In his 
 * Life of Scott/ Lockhart describes the scene 
 for us, saying that Scott's daughter had become 
 so much stirred at hearing her father tell of the 
 Eegalia, that, upon seeing it herself, she almost 
 fainted. Just then, as Lockhart says, ' she was 
 startled by his [Scott's] voice exclaiming in a 
 tone of deepest emotion — '^ No, by God, no! " 
 One of the Commissioners, not quite entering 
 into the solemnity with which Scott regarded 
 this business, had, it seems, made a sort of 
 motion as if he meant to put the Crown upon 
 the head of one of the young ladies near him; 
 but the voice and aspect of the great poet were 
 more than sufficient to make the worthy gentle- 
 man understand his error.' " Closing the book 
 from which she had been reading, Mrs. Pitt 
 added, * ^ Fancy ! We are standing in the same 
 room, and there's the very same chest! " 
 
 Quietly they went down the spiral stairs, and, 
 after noting a little doorway over which, Mrs. 
 Pitt told them, the tiny bones of an unknown 
 infant had been found not long ago, they turned 
 in at the door leading to Queen Mary's apart- 
 ments. 
 
 '' What's the H for? " asked Betty, looking 
 over the low doorway, where were carved the 
 initials H and M, and the date 1566. 
 
 ** Darnley's first name was Henry, you 
 
1 68 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 know/' replied Philip, with more confidence 
 than usual. 
 
 <« IVe got a closet at home that's bigger than 
 this Queen's bedroom! " boasted John, just 
 as Betty exclaimed, ^^ It makes me think 
 of Wolsey's little ' closet ' at Hampton 
 Court." 
 
 They had stepped into the tiny room where 
 King James VI was born, a room only about 
 eight feet long and very odd in shape, with one 
 casement window. Surely Queen Mary was 
 content with small quarters ! It is said that she 
 always slept on a camp bed except when she 
 was at Holyrood. 
 
 ** Do you notice the old paneling? " said Mrs. 
 Pitt, '^ and the low ceiling carved with the ini- 
 tials I E and MR? It is just as it was in 
 Mary's time, but the paneling is even older, for 
 it was brought from the Edinburgh palace of 
 Mary of Guise, Queen Mary Stuart's mother. 
 It was from this window that they let the baby 
 prince down in a basket for Mary's friends to 
 carry him away to Stirling to bring him up 
 in the Catholic faith. You remember about 
 that, Betty? " 
 
 *^ Yes," she replied; and, going to the win- 
 dow, added, ** The QuBen had a beautiful view, 
 anyway, even if she couldn't have a room big 
 enough for a real bed." 
 
 Filling one side of a square court is the old 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 169 
 
 Parliament Hall, restored within a few years by 
 an Edinburgh citizen, William Nelson, who also 
 gave the fine collection of armor which is dis- 
 played there. There is a grand old fireplace 
 and a fine oak roof, its beams bearing shields 
 which show the arms of the castle's most fa- 
 mous governors from 1007 to 1805. Here the 
 Scottish Parliament met, and Coronation feasts 
 were held, and here was given the Earl of 
 Leven's famous banquet to Cromwell in 1648. 
 The windows of the hall overlooked an open 
 space called the Grassmarket, the tilting-ground 
 in the days of the Stuart kings, James IV being 
 especially fond of the exercise. 
 
 ^^ Be sure to look at the buttery-hatch," cau- 
 tioned Mrs. Pitt, as they passed out. ^^ It's 
 there! That sliding panel in the wall! 
 Through it was passed the black bull's head 
 which was used at the * Douglas Black Dinner,' 
 in the days when wicked Crichton was in com- 
 mand here. Wishing to be rid of the young 
 Earl at the head of the Douglas family, whose 
 power he feared, Crichton invited him, with his 
 brother, to a banquet in the Parliament Hall. 
 Immediately after the appearance of the fatal 
 black bull's head, the two brothers were taken 
 below and cruelly beheaded. ' ' 
 
 In an angle of the ramparts is a pathetic little 
 dogs' cemetery which greatly interested Betty. 
 Nothing would do but she must stop to read 
 
I70 JOHN AND BETTY 
 
 some of the quaint names and epitaphs which 
 mark the graves of these pets of the soldiers. 
 
 As they again crossed the wide Castle 
 Esplanade, they were startled by hearing the 
 '' One-o 'Clock Gun " fired. 
 
 *^ My word!'' cried Mrs. Pitt in astonish- 
 ment. '' There was so much planned for us to 
 do this morning ! I had no idea it was luncheon- 
 time! " 
 
 ^^ Well, then, I had," announced John, jerk- 
 ing his loose belt up and down suggestively. ** I 
 get hungry even in Edinburgh." 
 
CHAPTER ELEVEN 
 
 LANDMAEKS OF OLD EDINBUKGH 
 
 ^* I CALL it a cheap enough old place! " an- 
 nounced John, looking with a young American's 
 critical eye at historic Holyrood Palace. 
 ^* Wouldn't be hired to live there myself if I 
 were the King ! ' ' 
 
 They were standing in the wide graveled 
 space near the great fountain, and before them 
 rose the ancient palace, big, black, and for- 
 bidding. 
 
 ** It's gloomy enough, to be sure," Mrs. Pitt 
 had to own. ^* The old walls have looked 
 down upon many gay, happy scenes, as well as 
 upon terrible tragedies, but they seem to have 
 forgotten all except their sad memories, don't 
 you think so ? " 
 
 But Betty could agree neither with Mrs. Pitt 
 nor with her brother. To her Holyrood was an 
 enchanted place, a palace she had read about, 
 and always hoped to see, a palace where real 
 things had once happened. Wasn't that left- 
 hand tower facing them the very one in which 
 were Mary Stuart's own apartments; hadn't 
 
 171 
 
172 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 that same northwest wing been built long, long 
 ago by King James V? 
 
 ** Come along; aren't we ready to go in 
 now? " she inquired, thrusting a small fore- 
 finger between the pages of her Baedeker to 
 mark the place. 
 
 On either side of the entrance are two sentry- 
 boxes, and a soldier paces back and forth; he 
 allowed them to pass on unchallenged into the 
 quadrangle, however, and they turned to their 
 left. Then a dreadful thing happened, some- 
 thing which greatly troubled Betty's sense of 
 the importance, the seriousness of this, her 
 first visit to Holyrood Palace. The party was 
 met by an official guide, probably an old pen- 
 sioner, very brave in his neat uniform, gold 
 braid, and medals ; but, unfortunately, he had a 
 toothache, which was most plain from the size 
 of his right cheek. When he spoke it was as if 
 he had a mouthful of hot food, and the sounds 
 were beyond the power of man to understand, 
 
 ** Excuse me, sir? " queried Mrs. Pitt 
 politely, scowling at John, who was struggling, 
 without any noticeable result, to stifle his mirth. 
 
 The remark was repeated ; then, with a pained 
 expression, showing that he understood how 
 vain were all his efforts, the poor man strode 
 off in search of assistance. 
 
 For a moment they gave way to their merri- 
 ment; but, seeing the guide coming back, John 
 
-^. 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 173 
 
 suddenly sobered, and whispered tragically, 
 ^^ If he's going to show you through the whole 
 place, I won't go along; that's settled. You 
 know perfectly well I couldn't stand it, Mrs. 
 Pitt, and I'd disgrace Betty forever! My, but 
 he's got a corking accent! " 
 
 Before Mrs. Pitt could answer, because of her 
 own laughter, the man was again upon them. 
 This time he said not a word; he merely 
 beckoned majestically. Awed into silence, 
 they followed him along a corridor and through 
 an arched doorway, until they found themselves 
 in the ruined abbey church. The afflicted guide 
 had vanished, to their immense relief, and an- 
 other, with a face of normal proportions, came 
 towards them. 
 
 ** You see. Madam, it's too early for the 
 State Apartments; they are not open for half 
 an hour, and he wanted you to come in here 
 first." 
 
 Accordingly they strolled about in the ruin 
 of what was once the *^ magnificent Abbey-Kirk 
 of Halirude," always the church of the kings 
 as St. Giles' was that of the people. Only a 
 small part of it now stands, but the beautiful 
 western doorway, with its elaborate carving, 
 and some exquisite windows, remain to give us 
 a slight idea of what the church must once have 
 been. In the royal vault are buried many fa- 
 mous persons ; but some of the names meant lit- 
 
174 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 tie to Betty; she was more interested in a 
 tiny wooden door, studded with great nails, 
 which she found in the corner of the abbey 
 church nearest the palace itself. 
 
 '* It might have been here forever, it's so 
 old! '' she declared, standing fascinated before 
 the low portal. ^ * Where do you think it leads 1 
 Is there a stairway? " 
 
 ''I'll tell you what I think," Mrs. Pitt replied 
 understandingly. '' I think it led to a certain 
 winding stair in the wall, which, as you will see 
 when we go inside, connects the apartments of 
 Mary with those of Darnley, her husband. That 
 little stair and the door suggest so many things 
 to my mind, Betty. Long before there was any 
 royal palace here (that was not begun until the 
 time of James III, you know), the abbey had 
 what is called ' right of sanctuary ' ; indeed, the 
 Palace Yard, and even a bit of the lower Canon- 
 gate, had this same old privilege, which means 
 that debtors and certain criminals who could 
 reach these precincts were quite safe from the 
 law. Holyrood has always had this ' right of 
 sanctuary,' and has it still, although, of course, 
 no one takes advantage of it nowadays. Natu- 
 rally, many conspiracies were hatched in and 
 about the palace, and I can imagine a palace 
 servant, or even a courtier, who had been guilty 
 of some fault, rushing madly down the stairs 
 to reach the altar. I think, perhaps, Mary her- 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 175 
 
 self sometimes came cIowtq to the church by this 
 secret way; she must have needed comfort and 
 quiet often enough! And who knows but the 
 murderers of the Queen's favorite, Eizzio, may 
 have reached Darnley's rooms by means of this 
 little door. Betty, my imagination is almost as 
 active as yours, isn't iti " 
 
 The others had now joined them, and together 
 they went into the palace. 
 
 If the children had shuddered just a bit when 
 they first saw the exterior of old Holyrood, this 
 feeling grew upon them as they walked about 
 the rooms filled with heavy antique furniture, 
 and hung with tapestries and faded portraits. 
 The long Gallery of the Kings has one hundred 
 and ten such portraits, representing all of Scot- 
 land's kings; Charles II had them painted by 
 a Flemish artist, who was to receive £120 
 sterling for finishing them in two years. They 
 are all much alike and very ugly, except a 
 lovely, unusually human likeness of Queen 
 Mary. 
 
 It was a relief to step out of this apartment, 
 with its many faces, and to pass through the 
 Duchess of Hamilton's room into those of Darn- 
 ley. Here are some fine hangings, and an occa- 
 sional cabinet or chair which has belonged to 
 royalty. 
 
 Most interesting of all, however, are the 
 Queen's rooms, exactly above Darnley's. The 
 
176 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 famous turret-chamber is so small that it is 
 difficult to imagine it in use. This was where 
 the Queen might be alone with her friends, — the 
 very place where she was sitting with Rizzio 
 and a few others when the murderers came up 
 the secret stairs to drag the Italian out. The 
 walls of all these rooms are hung with old 
 tapestry, giving an excellent idea of how they 
 probably looked when the Queen lived in them. 
 
 ** I suppose she brought the tapestries with 
 her from France, and, perhaps, this ducky little 
 mirror,'' said Barbara, when they were in the 
 adjoining chamber, with its great bed in torn 
 silken covering. '' They didn't have any lux- 
 uries in Scotland, did they, not until the Queen 
 and her four Maries brought them across the 
 water? " 
 
 Just then Betty discovered Mary Stuart's 
 work-box, under a glass case to preserve its 
 frail embroideries as long as possible. 
 
 ' * I once had a peep inside it, ' ' said Mrs. Pitt. 
 ** Shall I tell you what I saw? It is lined with 
 pink satin, fitted with spools and scissors just 
 like mine, and there's a little mirror in the lid, 
 not like mine! There's also a queer little cap 
 said to have been worn by Mary's father, James 
 V, who was fond of going about his kingdom dis- 
 guised as the * Gudeman of Ballengeich ' ; 
 there's Mary's lachrymatory, in which she 
 caught and preserved her tears ; and, best of all, 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 177 
 
 there's a glove which once belonged to 
 Darnley. ' ' 
 
 ** Perhaps," suggested Betty, '^ jnst before 
 she left the palace, Mary was mending a hole 
 in the thumb! " 
 
 Crossing Mary's audience-chamber, they 
 came to what Betty considered the ^' most ex- 
 citing spot of all, ' ' the entry, near the principal 
 stairway, where the Scotch nobles finished their 
 murder of Rizzio. Blood-stains are still 
 pointed out upon the floor, stains which Mary 
 herself is said to have ordered to '^ remane 
 as ane memoriall to quychen and confirm her 
 revenge. ' ' 
 
 ** Wish I'd brought along that bug-light! " 
 muttered John. *' It's so dark here I can't see 
 a single stain ! ' ' 
 
 Fortunately the melancholy guide was no- 
 where to be seen as they passed out. They 
 viewed the quaint house with its steep roof of 
 soft red tiles, called Queen Mary's Bath, where 
 she bathed in white wine in the hope of increas- 
 ing her charms ; then they began their walk up 
 the Canongate. Soon they reached ancient 
 Queensberry House, once the proud residence of 
 Scottish nobles, now a House of Refuge for the 
 Destitute; almost opposite opens White Horse 
 Close, which narrow passage they entered. On 
 the further side of the little court into which the 
 close widens, there is yet standing a building, 
 
178 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 which, with its two unusually quaint gables, its 
 tiled roof, and steep outside stairway, is one of 
 the most picturesque old houses in Edinburgh 
 to-day. 
 
 " It's the old White Horse Hostelry, named 
 for a certain palfrey belonging to Queen Mary, ' ' 
 said Mrs. Pitt. ^' It was always famous as an 
 inn. Here the officers of Prince Charlie's army 
 had their headquarters, and here Dr. Johnson 
 lodged. Well, try a photograph if you like, 
 John; I doubt if the children will let you take 
 it.'' 
 
 At least a dozen little ragamuffins had been 
 assailing them from all sides, crying pitifully, 
 ^ ' Spare us a penny ! Spare us a penny ! " In 
 their curiosity at sight of John's camera, they 
 forgot to beg, but they would persist in stand- 
 ing directly in the way, so John worked under 
 difficulties. 
 
 ^^ Can't some of you shoo 'em away? " he ex- 
 claimed impatiently. ^^ They're worse than 
 they were up at the castle ! " 
 
 On their walk up the Canongate and the High 
 Street, they saw countless entrances to closes, 
 many of the doorways bearing ancient coats of 
 arms, dates, and curious inscriptions; if in- 
 vestigated, they seldom failed to disclose more 
 quaint buildings, turrets, doorways, and spiral 
 stairs inside round towers. Betty, who had a 
 great horror of the dirt and wretchedness which 
 
It's the old White Horse Hostelry, named for a palfrey 
 BELONGING TO QuEEN Mary ."—Page 178. 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 179 
 
 are found in their worst phases in old Edin- 
 burgh, actually forgot to turn up her nose, be- 
 cause it was all ^^ so adorably interesting.'' 
 Mrs. Pitt could scarcely persuade her to pass a 
 few closes by and to continue past the old 
 Canongate Tolbooth, or prison, until they came 
 to John Knox's house, which, jutting out into 
 the High Street, is a conspicuous landmark. 
 
 ** Don't you remember how, when Roland 
 Graeme in ' The Abbot ' came to Edinburgh, 
 he rode down this same street? " Barbara was 
 saying. " He was so very excited by the 
 crowds and the fighting and the gorgeous noble- 
 men with their followers, who would not move 
 an inch out of their paths in the middle of the 
 street (' the crown of the causeway,' you know), 
 no matter whom they met, that Adam Woodcock 
 could hardly drag him along to the palace." 
 
 ^ ' Oh, I wish I could have seen High Street in 
 those days! " sighed Betty; '' tell us how it 
 looked, please, Mrs. Pitt." 
 
 ** Well, then, its houses were all like John 
 Knox's here, high and gabled and quaint, and 
 many of the lower stories were given over to 
 shops, or booths, displaying goods on the sid^ 
 walks. All fashionable merchants had their 
 shops in the High Street. Many houses had 
 balconies, which served the merchants as roofs 
 for their shops; outside stairways often led to 
 those balconies, and underneath were pig-styes. 
 
i8o JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 from wMch the pigs could run out to the open 
 sewers, dug at each side of the street. There 
 was great danger of fire, of course, and the 
 magistrates used to make trips of inspection up 
 and down the High Street to see that the piles 
 of peat and straw were not stacked too near the 
 houses. Lights were at the entrances to all 
 closes, and merchants were required to hang 
 lanterns in front of their booths. People were 
 expected to be in their houses by ten o'clock 
 at night, or, if they had business outside, to 
 carry a ' bowet,' or small lantern. Nobody 
 wished to go out in the evening, however ; it was 
 far too dangerous an undertaking, for, besides 
 the thieves and tipsy men who might do one 
 harm, any one could throw his refuse out of 
 his windows after a certain hour. Fancy ! As 
 a signal, a man would cry out, * Get oot o' the 
 gate ! ' or * Gardy loo ! ', which latter was prob- 
 ably from the French, gardez Veau, 
 
 '* It almost makes one wonder how people 
 dared to venture out into such confusion and 
 filth, even in broad daylight. But the streets 
 were thronged with a crowd as magnificently 
 dressed as any to be seen in Elizabethan Lon- 
 don. There were soldiers and serving-men in 
 their uniforms, nobles in their velvet clothes 
 and bonnets with long feathers, and even dainty 
 ladies lifting their silken skirts high, preceded 
 by gentlemen ushers to clear the way for 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT i8i 
 
 them. Why, at one time people became so ex- 
 travagant in their dress that a law had to be 
 made bidding men see to it that their wives 
 and daughters did not overdress for their re- 
 spective positions in society. It's hard to un- 
 derstand how mi-lady in all her sweeping finery 
 could enter the little shops at all, they were so 
 tiny. 
 
 *^ Near St. Giles' Cathedral, in Parliament 
 Square, which was the Princes Street of the 
 seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, and 
 where all the goldsmiths had their booths, was 
 one, only seven feet square, belonging to George 
 Heriot, or ^Jingling Geordie,' jeweler to James 
 VI." 
 
 *^ But it wasn't too small for the King to go 
 in," put in Barbara. ^* Don't you remember 
 that James and Heriot were great friends, and 
 how the goldsmith invited the King to come to 
 his shop and sit before the costliest fire he had 
 ever seen? And it was, too, because he burned 
 up some notes which stood for much money 
 that the King owed him. ' ' 
 
 Then they went into the old-time book, print, 
 and souvenir shop which Mr. Hay now keeps in 
 the basement of John Knox's house, just where 
 there was a pretty jeweler's shop even when 
 the stern, disapproving preacher lived above. 
 After exploring its dark nooks and corners, and 
 purchasing some postcards, a book or two, a 
 
i82 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 portrait of Mary, and a quaint '^ tirling pin," 
 or ancient Scottish substitute for knocker, they 
 mounted the spiral stairs at the back of the 
 shop, with kind Mrs. Hay acting as guide. 
 
 " Why, people could almost live here now! " 
 exclaimed Betty, ''' even if it is so old and 
 hasn't changed much since John Knox was 
 here! '' 
 
 Mrs. Hay laughed. *' People do live here," 
 she said ; ^ * we do. I often sit in here with my 
 sewing of a morning when it's not busy in the 
 shop below. This was Knox's little study; 
 here's his old chair, and from this bit of a 
 window, overhanging the street, he would some- 
 times address the people. Just step in here, 
 Mrs. Pitt; you've a fine view up the High 
 Street towards the Lawnmarket." 
 
 Of course, Mr. and Mrs. Hay live in the very 
 top of the old house, and are wise enough not 
 to disturb John Knox's bedroom, and his dining- 
 room, with its blackened, carved old paneling 
 exactly as it was when the reformer dined here 
 in much state. (He was very fond of French 
 wines, although he so strongly disapproved of 
 his Queen's fondness for French religion and 
 customs.) In fact, this house helps delightfully 
 to picture the daily life of this stern old church- 
 man, who, sure of his convictions, made the life 
 of Catholic Queen Mary a burden by his in- 
 sistent attempts to convert her. 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT i8^. 
 
 Next they entered Parliament Square, where 
 Heriot's jewelry shop had once stood, and there 
 noticed the site of the ' ' Heart of Midlothian, ' ' 
 or Toibooth, erected by James II about 1450, 
 and serving many uses, the last and most fa- 
 mous being that of prison for the City of Edin- 
 burgh. One whole side of the square is taken 
 up by the old Parliament House, now occupied 
 by government offices and the Courts of Session, 
 the haunt of gowned and wigged advocates, or 
 lawyers. 
 
 ^^ What's this! '' inquired John, kicking a 
 little brass plate in the center of the pavement. 
 The plate bears the initials * ^ I.K. ' ' and the date 
 1572. 
 
 ^* Stop kicking it, John," remarked his sis- 
 ter suddenly. ^' I think it's John Knox'iS 
 grave. Why was he buried here in the square, 
 Mrs. Pitt! " 
 
 As they walked around the back of the 
 cathedral, towards the celebrated Mercat Cross, 
 Mrs. Pitt explained that a churchyard formerly 
 covered all the ground now occupied by the 
 Parliament House and Square, and that all the 
 tombs have quite vanished. There is now only 
 this tiny mark in the pavement to indicate the 
 supposed resting-place of one of Scotland's 
 most famous men. 
 
 They were all curious about the Mercat Cross. 
 Did Mercat mean market! What was the cross 
 
1 84 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 for? Why does part of it look old and part 
 new? Mrs. Pitt had much to explain. 
 
 ** It is partly new and partly old," said she. 
 ^ * This eight-sided tower was built by Mr. Glad- 
 stone in imitation of the ancient tower, which 
 was long ago removed because it blocked the 
 traffic ; that slender pillar rising from it is part 
 of the original market cross which was once in 
 St. Giles' churchyard, just as was John Knox's 
 grave. Business was carried on in this church- 
 yard, you know, and at the foot of this cross 
 were sold * pietricks, pluvars, capones, chekins, 
 and all other wyld foulis, and tame.' Execu- 
 tions were held at the cross, and royal feasts, 
 the king and nobles seated up on the tower, 
 with the common people at its foot; here 
 a border riever would be * put to the horn,' or 
 declared an outlaw, because of his daring and 
 bloody deeds, and from here all proclamations 
 were made. Even now kings are proclaimed 
 from the old Mercat Cross, and the Eoyal Scots 
 from the castle have a part in the picturesque 
 ceremony. Does anybody remember a poem in 
 which the cross is introduced, I wonder? " 
 
 ** Yes, yes, I know! " cried Betty. *' It's in 
 Scott's ' Marmion '! " 
 
 An old legend declared that a few nights be- 
 fore James IV and his army set out for their 
 English invasion, in which there occurred the 
 terrible defeat at Flodden Field, a mysterious 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 185 
 
 herald mounted the cross and read a long list 
 of names of those in the army whom he sum- 
 moned to meet him in an unknown world within 
 forty days. One man, hearing his own name 
 called, had presence of mind to say promptly, 
 ** I appeal from that summons and sentence, 
 and take me to the mercy of God.'' Of all the 
 doomed men, he alone was alive after the battle. 
 Mrs. Pitt quoted for them part of an old 
 ballad by Professor Aytoun, which here de- 
 scribes the ending of the battle: 
 
 " * No one failed him — he is keeping 
 
 Royal state and semblance still; 
 Knight and noble lie around him 
 
 Cold on Flodden's fatal hill. 
 Of the brave and gallant-hearted 
 
 Whom ye sent with prayers away, 
 Not a single man departed 
 
 From his Monarch yesterday. 
 
 "'Had ye seen them, my Masters, 
 When the night began to fall, 
 And the English spearmen gathered 
 Round a grim and ghastly wall! 
 
 *'*But a rampart rose before them 
 
 Which the boldest dared not scale; 
 Every stone a Scottish body, 
 
 Every step a corpse in mail! 
 And behind it lay our Monarch 
 
 Clenching still his shivered sword; 
 By his side Montrose and Athole, 
 
 At his feet a Southron lord.' " 
 
186 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 Quietly they entered St. Giles' Cathedral, 
 stirred by the atmosphere of terror in the 
 ballad, all but the irrepressible John, who would 
 persist in asking whether '' that fellow, the 
 herald, had any head." 
 
 The first edifice on the site of St. Giles' was 
 erected in 854, but it was pulled down by a son 
 of Queen Margaret Canmore, who built another 
 in its place. 
 
 *^ Since then the church has undergone in- 
 numerable changes," said Mrs. Pitt, as they sat 
 down for a moment to put themselves in tune 
 with the stately, grim, history-laden old place. 
 ^^ It was burned in the time of Richard II, but 
 was rebuilt and grew gradually larger and more 
 beautiful. When a man wished to show his 
 gratitude for any blessing, he would build an 
 aisle or a chapel or a lovely window. At the 
 time of the Reformation, the windows were 
 smashed and the carvings broken away, but the 
 building itself remained. At one time, when 
 more parish churches were required, St. Giles' 
 was actually divided into several parts, each 
 one being used as a separate church; it's no 
 wonder, then, that its present shape and ar- 
 rangement are unusual." 
 
 As they strolled about, they saw the Chepman 
 Aisle, near the Royal Pew, built by Walter 
 Chepman, who introduced printing into Scot- 
 land; and the Albany Aisle, built as atonement 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 187 
 
 for his evil deeds by the wicked Duke of Al- 
 bany, who in 1402 killed his nephew, David, 
 Dnke of Rothesay. 
 
 ^* I always wonder whether their consciences 
 felt any easier afterwards," reflected Mrs. 
 Pitt. 
 
 In the Moray Aisle lies the '' Good Regent 
 Moray,'' he who ruled in place of the baby 
 James VI, after his mother, Mary Stuart, had 
 been dethroned. He was much beloved by the 
 people, but he, as all men of power, had ene- 
 mies, and one of them murdered him at Lin- 
 lithgow. John Knox preached the sermon at his 
 funeral in St. Griles' Cathedral. Close by are 
 the tombs of the ^^ Great Marquis of Montrose " 
 and the '^ Great Marquis of Argyll," men who 
 took opposite sides, Montrose being an Episco- 
 palian and a stanch Royalist, and Argyll 
 a Presbyterian and a loyal follower of Crom- 
 well. To see them lying quietly so near to- 
 gether puts one in mind of the similar tombs 
 of Mary Stuart and of Queen Elizabeth, 
 just opposite one another in Westminster 
 Abbey. 
 
 In a talk with one of the vergers, John learned 
 that the old bell of St. Giles', which came from 
 Flanders several hundred years ago, still chimes 
 the hours and rings for the daily service 
 at three-thirty o'clock. In obedience to an 
 old, old law, the bell was sounded in case of 
 
i88 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 any danger, and every able-bodied man was 
 bound to meet his townsmen at the Mercat 
 Cross. 
 
 ** Oh, here's something about Jenny Ged- 
 des ! ' ' exclaimed Betty, stopping before a brass 
 plate on one of the ancient pillars. ^^ I'd al- 
 most forgotten about her; there's so much 
 else! " 
 
 *^ Jenny Geddes was only a cabbage-woman, 
 who had her stall near the cathedral, but hers 
 is a famous name in history. ' ' 
 
 << Why? " interrupted John. ^' Were her 
 cabbages extra good? " 
 
 ** The people were accustomed to using a 
 prayer-book which John Knox had written," 
 continued Mrs. Pitt, ** but in the reign of 
 Charles I, Dean Hanna received orders to read 
 the Church of England service. This caused 
 great excitement and indignation, you must 
 know, and the good Dean had not gone far with 
 his service before the cabbage-woman started a 
 riot by picking up her stool, which, like other 
 worshippers, she had brought with her, and 
 throwing it at the Dean. With much difficulty 
 he escaped to his own house, but no one ever 
 again dared attempt the reading of the English 
 service at St. Griles'." 
 
 They stood long before the exquisite bronze 
 tablet to the memory of Robert Louis Steven- 
 son, who is shown half-reclining in his chair, 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 189 
 
 pencil and pad in hand. Underneath are the 
 lines of one of his own beautiful prayers. 
 
 ^^ We must step into the Thistle Chapel be- 
 fore we go," said Mrs. Pitt, leading the way 
 towards a little addition which had recently 
 been opened. 
 
 Very rich it is in the fine grain of its oak 
 paneling, its exquisite carvings, and its bright- 
 colored, enameled insignia and crests, which, 
 with their accompanying swords, mark the stall 
 of each knight of the ancient Order of the 
 Thistle. The Royal stall, with one on the left 
 for the Duke of Connaught, and one on the right 
 for the Prince of Wales, when he comes of age, 
 were pointed out, as well as a stall opposite, 
 where the King sits to invest new members. 
 
 ** It's very wonderful," said Betty, as they 
 again left the Thistle Chapel for the cathedral 
 proper, '^ but I like it better in here where it's 
 all shadowy and old, and where things have hap- 
 pened! " 
 
 Betty's cry was always for a place where 
 ** things had happened." Her brother began 
 to fear they should never again persuade her 
 to live in a house which could not boast a his- 
 tory begun at least five hundred years ago. 
 
CHAPTEE TWELVE 
 
 EDINBUEGH ODDS AND ENDS 
 
 *^ Wheke are the boys! '' asked Betty, coming 
 into Mrs. Pitt's sunny room one Sunday after- 
 noon to ask that lady's advice about the postage 
 on an unusually bulky letter. 
 
 ^^ They went off on an expedition; they're 
 searching for something interesting, but they 
 wouldn't tell what it is, or let me help them," 
 Mrs. Pitt answered absently, for she was just 
 then poring over the timetables in '^ Brad- 
 shaw," that altogether exasperating but indis- 
 pensable traveler's companion. 
 
 It was past tea-time when Philip and John 
 appeared at the hotel, tired and hot, but tri- 
 umphant. 
 
 '' I say! We found it. Mother, but it's not 
 half as jolly as we expected," said Philip, drop- 
 ping into a chair and taking the cup of tea his 
 sister held out to him. 
 
 But before they learned any more about the 
 mysterious discovery, they were forced to listen 
 to a long account of the boys' tramp. 
 
 ^' Out on Princes Street here we ran into a 
 190 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 191 
 
 lot of soldiers coming home from camp," re- 
 marked John, his month fnll of bread and but- 
 ter, of which the waiter had just brought in a 
 fresh supply. '^ They were pulling their gun- 
 carriages along the pavement in this sun, and 
 perhaps they didn't look hot! Whew! We 
 saw more starting off to camp, too; they didn't 
 have on their plaids at all, just stupid yellow 
 khaki suits and guns over their shoulders." 
 
 ^^ A little farther down," began Philip, tak- 
 ing up the story, " we saw the queerest pro- 
 cession of big trucks loaded with stuff to set up 
 a fair somewhere; the whole thing was pulled 
 along by a steam engine that made no end of a 
 nasty racket! " 
 
 '' Then we dodged a crowd of boy scouts, 
 blowing bugles and pounding on drums to beat 
 the band! " It was John who was talking once 
 again. ^ ^ After that we went down into Princes 
 Street Gardens, where there was even a bigger 
 crowd than a week ago. We crossed the tracks 
 by a bridge and hustled all over that side of the 
 rock, and it's mighty steep, too. We bumped 
 into some kind of a ruin which we thought was 
 going to be it, but a bobby told us it's the Well- 
 house Tower, oldest ruin in Edinburgh, sup- 
 plied water for the castle once. Well, there are 
 bully views from there, and shady walks and 
 trees, but we couldn't find it/' 
 
 ^^ Then we went up to the castle again, and I 
 
192 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 asked that jolly old guide where it is. WeVe 
 asked him half a dozen times already, you know, 
 Mother, but he told us all over again, so we 
 walked 'round and 'round this north side of the 
 rock till we finally discovered it. It's so little 
 that a fellow could look and look and never see 
 it, but now it stands out just as clear ! " 
 
 *^ We'll show it to you to-morrow," declared 
 John condescendingly. ^' It's Queen Mar- 
 garet's little door, ' sally-port,' they call it. 
 The monk carried her body out of it when 
 Donald Bane was besieging and the fog came 
 up." 
 
 Mrs. Pitt smiled when the secret was thus di- 
 vulged. Betty rose and went to the window. 
 Her eyes had not been roving long over the 
 sides of the black rock before she exclaimed in 
 high glee, " I thought so ! You silly, silly boys ! 
 I can see it from this very window, just as plain ! 
 Come here, John ! Look ! ' ' 
 
 '^ If you boys had told me what you were 
 looking for, I could have saved you the long 
 tramp," said Mrs. Pitt, seeing the boys' con- 
 fusion. 
 
 '' We don't care, anyhow," they insisted. 
 '^ We had a jolly walk, and we found it by our- 
 selves! " 
 
 The next morning they all skirted the north 
 side of the rock, under the little '' sally-port "in 
 the outer castle walls, and followed the street, 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 193 
 
 called quaintly '* King^s Stables Road," until 
 it brought them into the Grrassmarket. This 
 wide, open space, still boasting a few ancient 
 buildings, lies close under the castle rock. They 
 looked at the mark in the pavement showing 
 where the gallows stood, the gallows which were 
 always set up during the night and vanished 
 also under cover of darkness; they glanced up 
 the winding, narrow street called the West Bow, 
 leading to the Lawnmarket, just below the 
 castle esplanade; then they gingerly made 
 their way up the Vennel, a filthy, steep passage 
 built in wide steps, which leads from the Grass- 
 market up past Heriot's Hospital to Lauriston 
 Place. Dingy tenements line the way, swarm- 
 ing with children who stare curiously at all 
 strangers. 
 
 *^ What's this! " asked Betty, as they came 
 upon a bit of old wall. ^ * It looks, somehow, as 
 if it has a history." 
 
 * * And indeed it has, ' ' replied Mrs. Pitt, paus- 
 ing to look back across the Grassmarket to the 
 castle; ^' it's the Flodden Wall, Betty, part of 
 the old city wall. Do you notice how very rough 
 and poorly made it is? That's because it was 
 built in great haste by unskilled workmen, by 
 women and children, some believe, at the time 
 of the battle of Flodden Field, when those liv- 
 ing outside the city walls feared an attack by the 
 English. But it was not needed, for the wall 
 
194 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 had been erected less than one hundred years 
 when peace was declared, James went to Lon- 
 don, and England and Scotland were united. ' ' 
 
 They entered the grounds of George Heriot's 
 Hospital from the rear, passing by a new build- 
 ing to be used in connection with the original 
 school, completed in 1659. Passing through an 
 old gateway, they stepped into the great 
 quadrangle. 
 
 The keeper, so surprised at their boldness, 
 forgot to ask them for their permits, and meekly 
 showed them about, giving them all the informa- 
 tion at his disposal. 
 
 ^^ Thought it was a place for sick people, '^ 
 whispered John to his sister. *' First time I 
 knew that a hospital meant a school. ^ ' 
 
 The founder was George Heriot, goldsmith 
 to Anne of Denmark, and afterwards to James 
 VI, their guide informed them. Heriot had no 
 children, so, at his death, his entire fortune went 
 to found this school ' ' for the education and up- 
 bringing of poor orphans and fatherless chil- 
 dren of decayed burgesses and freemen of the 
 burgh of Edinburgh. ' ' The Heriot fortune was 
 so well invested that to-day the school owns 
 '' about three-thirds of Edinburgh,'' so the 
 guide proudly remarked. (Obviously his frac- 
 tions were just a wee bit confused.) Originally 
 the boys boarded at the school, but now the fine 
 old building of brownish stone is used only for 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 195 
 
 lecture-rooms. To-day the pupils are from 
 eight to twenty-two years of age, and there are 
 eleven hundred of them. Heriot's Hospital has 
 continued to prosper. 
 
 The building is square and four-storied, built 
 around a large court; it has quaint turrets, a 
 high clock-tower in the center of one side, and 
 two hundred and eighty windows, of which only 
 two bear the same carved device. The whole 
 building displays much elaborate carving, in 
 which the initials of the founder often appear. 
 The court has a sundial on each of its walls 
 except that facing the north. Its pavement is 
 flagged. 
 
 ^' Do ye ken what ye^re standing on? " the 
 caretaker inquired of John, pointing to some 
 faint lines and figures on the flagstones. At 
 one time every boy had a little square marked 
 with a number, and here each must stand be- 
 fore lining up to go into chapel in the morning. 
 
 * ' Wasn 't that a good idea ! ' ' cried the de- 
 lighted Betty. ^* Too bad the lines are nearly 
 rubbed out now. But then, there wouldn't be 
 enough to go around, would there! '' 
 
 Visitors are not permitted in the classrooms, 
 it seems, but the guide showed them the chapel 
 and the handsome Council Room, paneled with 
 oak in perfect condition, and having beautifully 
 carved doors, high-backed chairs, and a fine 
 chimney-piece. 
 
196 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 *^ It's a nice old place, all right/' said John, 
 after they had bade farewell to the old care- 
 taker, and were walking down the wide, stately- 
 path to the front gate, ^^ but I can't imagine a 
 fellow really going to school in it. ' ' 
 
 ^* Heriot's foundation is very famous, John, 
 though, of course, it's not as old as the Eoyal 
 High School, founded eight hundred years ago 
 by the Holyrood monks." They were going 
 along Lauriston Place on their walk towards 
 Greyfriars Church, as Mrs. Pitt spoke. ^* The 
 monks meant only to educate those boys who 
 sang for them at mass, but the school became 
 very popular, and others wished to attend. 
 You can understand why a good school was 
 needed when you know that in the time of 
 James IV certain men were fined if they did not 
 send their eldest sons to learn Latin, all laws 
 being written in that tongue. After the Refor- 
 mation, when the monasteries were broken up, 
 the clergy and the Town Council took charge of 
 the school. The boys studied in many different 
 buildings, until the fine new one, at the foot of 
 the Calton Hill, was built in 1829." 
 
 '^ I say, didn't King Edward go to school in 
 Edinburgh, Mother? " 
 
 ^' He came to live at Holyrood Palace to study 
 with Dr. Schmetz, then headmaster of the Royal 
 High School. That isn't just like going to 
 school there, of course. I only wish I had time 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 197 
 
 to tell you some of the odd customs of those 
 High School boys/' his mother rambled on; 
 ^^ they're so delightful! Once every summer 
 they were allowed to go out into the fields to 
 cut the * bent,' or dry grass,- with which the 
 school floors were strewn in winter to keep the 
 feet warm. Every Candlemas, the second day 
 of February, each boy brought the master his 
 ' Bleis-silver,' — a present of a sum of money. 
 At first the money was intended to be used for 
 buying the candles which blazed in the churches 
 at this festival. One of the boys' favorite 
 pranks was ^ barring-out ' the masters, block- 
 ing up doors and windows, and refusing to let 
 them in until an extra holiday was promised. I 
 could go on indefinitely," Mrs. Pitt laughed, 
 ^^ but here we are at Greyfriars Church! " 
 
 The churchyard surrounding the Old and New 
 Greyfriars Churches is by far the most ancient 
 in the city. Once the Greyfriars Monastery and 
 gardens covered all the ground as far as the 
 Heriot Hospital. At the Eeformation this 
 monastery, founded by James I for the increase 
 of learning and culture, was reduced to an al- 
 most total ruin; in 1562 the Town Council, 
 by permission of Queen Mary, converted it 
 into a burial-ground. In 1612, Old Greyfriars 
 Church was erected, and a little more than one 
 hundred years later, the congregation having 
 increased, New Greyfriars was added. The long 
 
198 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 structure has always been and is now divided 
 into two chnrches. Very black and gloomy it 
 looks on a cloudy day, and equally depressing 
 are the many crumbling stones and elaborate 
 tombs. 
 
 ^^ It's a terribly solemn place," said Betty, 
 as tliey glanced down a long path lined by for- 
 bidding monuments. 
 
 Appreciating the children's point of view, 
 Mrs. Pitt quickly showed them a few of the 
 celebrated graves: those of George Buchanan, 
 Scotland 's great scholar ; of Allan Ramsay, the 
 poet; of George Heriot, father of the founder 
 of the Hospital : and told them of a few of the 
 famous lawyers, magistrates, Lords President 
 of the Supreme Court of Scotland, Lords of Ses- 
 sion, and other famous folk who lie there. She 
 pointed out the corner of the churchyard where 
 the Covenanters were imprisoned, and where so 
 many of them perished from exposure, the stone 
 on which the great Covenant was signed, and 
 the Martyrs ' Monument. 
 
 *' The Covenanters were people who didn't 
 like our English Church service, weren't they, 
 Mother? " 
 
 '^ Yes, Barbara, the Covenanters wanted the 
 right to worship in their own way, as they had 
 done ever since the Reformation. Because they 
 would not obey the orders sent north by Charles 
 I, they were terribly persecuted, and peace was 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 199 
 
 not restored until 1689, in the reign of William 
 and Mary. The Covenanters were imprisoned, 
 put to death, and treated with the utmost cru- 
 elty; they fled to the country, and held church 
 services in the open air. Even on the hillsides 
 they were always armed, for at any moment 
 they were liable to be discovered. There are 
 horrible tales of the sufferings of women and 
 children and of the Covenanting ministers, who 
 were not allowed to go near their homes. 
 About eighteen hundred people are said to have 
 suffered death, banishment, or imprisonment 
 during the long years that these religious wars 
 lasted. To the memory of these people this 
 Martyrs' Monument was erected." 
 
 ^^ But what about the Covenant that they 
 signed on this stone ? ' ' asked Betty. 
 
 '* In February, 1638, a great multitude gath- 
 ered in this churchyard,'' replied Mrs. Pitt, 
 *^ and listened to an address in regard to the 
 preservation of their own religion and their 
 duty to God and country; and when the Cov- 
 enant, or statement of the people's religious 
 convictions, was displayed, all were eager to 
 sign their names to it. Some are said to have 
 written their names in blood. Copies of the 
 Covenant were sent all over the country, and 
 very soon almost every one had signed. 
 
 ^' Before we go, I'll give you one more story 
 about this old churchyard," she continued, 
 
200 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 * ' this time a far more pleasant one. Here was 
 the scene of Sir Walter Scott's first romance. 
 One Sunday it began to rain during church 
 service, and Scott offered his umbrella to Mar- 
 garet, daughter of Sir John and Lady Jane 
 Stewart of Fettercairn and Invermay. The 
 young lady accepted the proffer of the um- 
 brella and the escort of Walter Scott. For 
 several years he hoped to win her, but at last 
 he saw her married to another. ' ' 
 
 * * Look at that bully fountain with the statue 
 of a Skye terrier ! ' ' exclaimed John, as they left 
 the churchyard and went towards George IV 
 Bridge. 
 
 ** I know all about that,'' Barbara said; *' it's 
 dear little ^ Greyf riars Bobby ' ! His master, a 
 poor man, died and was buried in Greyfriars 
 Churchyard ; Bobby was the only one who went 
 to the funeral. Dogs were not allowed in the 
 churchyard, but this one managed to find a 
 way in, and spent all his time stretched on his 
 master's grave. The caretaker tried for a long 
 time to drive him out, but he couldn't, so finally 
 he let him sleep in his own house, and gave him 
 food. Every day for years the dog was there 
 by the grave, and everybody knew about ^ Grey- 
 friars Bobby.' When he died, the Baroness 
 Burdett-Coutts, who lives in London, you know, 
 built this fountain." 
 
 Before their luncheon they walked past the 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 201 
 
 old University, on the site of the Kirk o' Field, 
 where Darnley was murdered. Close by is 
 Guthrie Street, once College Wynd, where 
 Walter Scott was born in Au^st, 1771. On 
 their way to the Antiquarian Museum, in 
 Queen Street, after luncheon and a short shop- 
 ping expedition, they saw another residence of 
 Soott^s in Castle Street, his Edinburgh ** work- 
 shop, ' ' where much of his writing was done. 
 
 As they went along, they were still laughing 
 at an adventure of Betty *s, — Betty, whose love 
 of antiquities sometimes led her into amusing 
 predicaments. In search of a souvenir of Edin- 
 burgh to send home for her mother's birthday, 
 Betty had halted long before a shop window 
 in Princes Street. Close to the window-pane 
 she espied a quaint silver drinking-cup, with two 
 little handles and a shallow bowl, marked with 
 a crest and a date. 
 
 *^ I think Mother would love that," thought 
 Betty; ^' she likes old things, too," and into the 
 shop she slipped, unobserved by Mrs. Pitt and 
 the others. 
 
 When questioned, the pompous clerk looked 
 startled and said hastily, ** But that's an old 
 one, you know. ' ' 
 
 *^ Yes," said Betty placidly; *^ that's why I 
 like it." 
 
 **But it's an antique, you see; it's a quaich, 
 or Highland drinking-cup, which the chiefs used. 
 
202 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 Some of them had glass bottoms, so that peo- 
 ple could detect poison and conld keep their 
 eyes on a possible enemy while the drinking- 
 cup was tipped. ' ' 
 
 ^^ How much is it! '^ Betty inquired sweetly. 
 
 Eealizing that she really did not know their 
 value, the clerk became very kind. He ex- 
 plained to her that these quaichs are very rare, 
 indeed, and bring a high price. ^^ That one in 
 the window is twenty-nine pounds,'' said he; 
 and, going to the safe, he brought out a still 
 more valuable one, which he was confident of be- 
 ing able to dispose of to a regular customer for 
 forty pounds, two hundred dollars. He then 
 showed some beautiful little copies which sell 
 for one pound each, but even this was too much 
 for Betty 's purse. Thanking the man, she left 
 the shop without any package. 
 
 The others wanted to know where she had 
 been, so Betty, rather crestfallen, was obliged to 
 explain. They were much amused, of course, 
 and every little while John would burst out 
 with, '' Ho ! ho! Mother sure would have liked 
 your interesting, inexpensive little present! 
 Too bad you didn't buy it, Betty! " 
 
 The Antiquarian Museum is a comparatively 
 new building, having been erected between 1890- 
 1895, by Mr. J. R. Findlay, late proprietor of 
 the famous newspaper, ^^ The Scotsman." 
 Scotland's heroes and heroines, from prehis- 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 203 
 
 toric to modern times, are pictured in a frieze 
 about the hall; painted against a gold back- 
 ground, these figures stand out clearly. 
 
 Having looked until their necks could bear no 
 more craning, Mrs. Pitt led them into the mu- 
 seum, crowded with objects of great interest: 
 among them, Jenny Geddes's folding-stool with 
 the leather seat, the one which was thrown at 
 Dean Hanna in St. Giles' Cathedral, and John 
 Knox's pulpit. 
 
 It soon became evident, however, that there 
 was no use in trying to see everything; some- 
 what wearily they boarded a tram for the hotel. 
 It had been a very full day. 
 
CHAPTER THIRTEEN 
 
 IN THE SCOTT COUNTRY 
 
 ^' I don't see the battlement where Lady 
 Clare was walking the night she found the 
 armor and met Ralph de Wilton. There don't 
 seem to be any battlements any more ! ' ' Betty 
 spoke regretfully, standing on the lawn in front 
 of old Tantallon Castle and gazing up at its 
 battered walls. 
 
 '' No, Betty, the battlements certainly seem 
 to have fallen, ' ' was Mrs. Pitt 's reply. ^ ' These 
 old walls, extending like wings from either side 
 of the twelfth-century keep, are only half of 
 the original castle. Here, where we are stand- 
 ing near the deep well, was the courtyard; the 
 walls once surrounded it, stretching as far as 
 the cliifs, the battlements overhanging the sea. 
 You can still find ancient foundations. ' ' 
 
 ** I forget just who that fellow, Marmion, 
 was," put in John, strolling up, open kodak in 
 hand. '' Tell us about him, Betty.'' 
 
 ^* Do you mean you've forgotten the whole 
 story? Oh, John! It's too long to tell it all 
 now," his sister replied, always amazed and 
 grieved at John's lapses of memory. 
 
 204 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 205 
 
 * ^ Marmion was an English knight, John, who 
 had been sent by his king, Henry VIII, on an 
 errand to King James IV of Scotland. You 
 surely remember the great poem's telling of his 
 travels north, how he stopped one night at 
 Norham Castle and another at the inn at Gif- 
 ford; it was there that he fought the phantom 
 knight by moonlight." 
 
 ^' It was only De Wilton pretending he was 
 the phantom knight, '^ corrected the accurate 
 Barbara. 
 
 ** Yes, De Wilton was acting as Marmion 's 
 guide, a Holy Palmer, you know; but in reality 
 he was Marmion 's enemy, for the latter had 
 succeeded in dishonoring De Wilton's knight- 
 hood, and was even then pursuing his sweet- 
 heart. Lady Clare, who had been told that her 
 lover was dead. It was after he had been to 
 Edinburgh, where he saw the ghostly messen- 
 ger appear at the Mercat Cross, — when the 
 names were read of those who would be killed 
 at Flodden, you remember, — that Marmion 
 came here to Tantallon Castle, which belonged 
 to the Douglas family. Lady Clare and a party 
 of Whitby nuns were traveling with Marmion, 
 who had been ordered to escort them back to 
 their cloister; but the ladies stayed behind in 
 a nunnery at the town of North Berwick, while 
 the Lady Clare was brought on to this castle 
 with Marmion and the faithful De Wilton, who 
 
2o6 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 still wore the Palmer's cloak. As Betty was 
 saying, Lady Clare came face to face with him 
 on the battlements here; that very night De 
 Wilton was re-knighted by the Douglas, an old 
 friend to De Wilton's family, who understood 
 well Marmion's treachery, and, as that false 
 knight was killed at Flodden Field, all ended 
 happily for the Lady Clare." 
 
 ^' Oh! " sighed Betty rapturously; ^' how 
 could Scott have thought up such perfectly 
 adorable stories! " 
 
 ^' He must have been to Tantallon Castle, 
 Mother, ' ' said Barbara, taking a copy of ^ ^ Mar- 
 mion " from her mother's handbag, the won- 
 derful bag, which, like that of the mother in 
 '' Swiss Family Eobinson," seemed always to 
 contain anything which the occasion might de- 
 mand. ^^ Just listen to this jolly passage! 
 
 ... Tantallon's dizzy steep 
 Hung o'er the margin of the deep. 
 Many a rude tower and rampart there 
 Repell'd the insult of the air, 
 Which, when the tempest vex'd the sky, 
 Half breeze, half spray, came whistling by. 
 Above the rest, a turret square 
 Did o'er its Gothic entrance bear, 
 Of sculpture rude, a stony shield; 
 The Bloody Heart was in the Field, 
 And in the chief three mullets stood. 
 The cognizance of Douglas blood. 
 
"Many a rude tower and rampart there 
 Repell'd the insult of the air."— Page 206. 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 207 
 
 The turret held a narrow stair, 
 
 Which, mounted, gave you access where 
 
 A parapet's embattled row 
 
 Did seaward round the castle go. 
 
 Sometimes in dizzy steps descending, 
 
 Sometimes in narrow circuit bending. 
 
 Sometimes in platform broad extending, 
 
 Its varying circle did combine 
 
 Bulwark, and bartisan, and line. 
 
 And bastion, tower, and vantage-coign: 
 
 Above the booming ocean leant 
 
 The far-projecting battlement; 
 
 The billows burst, in ceaseless flow, 
 
 Upon the precipice below. 
 
 Where'er Tantallon faced the land. 
 
 Gate- works, and walls, were strongly mann'd ; 
 
 No need upon the sea-girt side; 
 
 The steepy rock, and frantic tide, 
 
 Approach of human step denied; 
 
 And thus these lines, and ramparts rude, 
 
 Were left in deepest solitude.' " 
 
 '' That is a lovely description of the Lady 
 Clare's battlement! " approved Betty, as Bar- 
 bara closed the book. 
 
 '' What does that mean about the ' Bloody 
 Heart in the Field "? " demanded John of his 
 sister. 
 
 ^^ The Douglas shield had a bloody heart,'' 
 was her reply, '' because it was a Douglas that 
 the Bruce asked to carry his heart to the Holy 
 Land, after he was dead, you know." 
 
 They then carefully explored the ruins of 
 
208 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 Tantallon Castle, interesting enough in itself, 
 even were it to be deprived of its associations 
 with that favorite poem, " Marmion." There 
 are keep and dungeon, watch-tower and guard- 
 room, with enchanting views of the deep blue 
 water of the German Ocean, of high cliffs cov- 
 ered with fields of waving yellow grain, and of 
 the steep, abrupt sides of celebrated Bass Rock, 
 white with great sea-birds. 
 
 At last they regretfully left by the entrance 
 built by James V in front of the original draw- 
 bridge gate, over which Marmion galloped to 
 escape being made prisoner of the Douglas. It 
 was the drawbridge referred to in the lines 
 which follow those describing the quarrel be- 
 tween Marmion and the Douglas, the proud 
 Scotchman having drawn his cloak around him, 
 
 "Folded his arms, and thus he spoke: — 
 
 My castles are my King's alone, 
 From turret to foundation-stone — 
 The hand of Douglas is his own; 
 And never shall in friendly grasp 
 The hand of such as Marmion clasp. 
 
 Lord Marmion turn'd, — ^well was his need, 
 And dash'd the rowels in his steed, 
 Like arrow through the archway sprung, 
 The ponderous grate behind him rung : 
 To pass there was such scanty room, 
 The bars descending, razed his plume." 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 209 
 
 The little girl with the long flaxen pigtails 
 waited soberly to unlock the gate for them, and 
 soberly she stood by while they climbed into the 
 waiting motor car, scarcely even murmuring her 
 thanks when a bright new sixpence dropped into 
 her hand. Back they whirled to the town, pass- 
 ing North Berwick Law, a pointed hill rising 
 from the fields like a giant ant-hill, and fol- 
 lowing the road along the cliffs, dotted by villas 
 and small hotels. North Berwick is a charming 
 place with attractive shops, many villas, hotels, 
 and an excellent golf course close by the sea, 
 like that of St. Andrews. After luncheon, a 
 porter piled the suitcases brought from Edin- 
 burgh in the center of a compartment, they all 
 got in, filling the seats by the windows, and 
 were soon off for Melrose. 
 
 All the way their teeth crunched long sticks 
 of candy in different colors, from a gay box 
 marked ^' North Berwick Eock." This had 
 been John's purchase. For many weeks he had 
 been noticing that apparently every Scotch 
 town, from Edinburgh down to a tiny place like 
 Kirriemuir, manufactures ^* rock.'' 
 
 * ^ Seems to be the only candy they have over 
 here," thought John. ^* ^ Eock ' must be 
 what's the matter with their teeth ! Mrs. Pitt's 
 been telling us to notice what awful teeth they 
 all have. I'm going to try it. It can't kill a 
 fellow to eat it once ! ' ' 
 
210 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 To Ms surprise, Jolin found the candy soft 
 and rather good. The others all accepted when 
 he offered the box to them, and he was much 
 gratified. '' Edinburgh Eock/' '' Dundee 
 Kock," '' Oban Eock," they are all alike; the 
 only difference is one of name. 
 
 Such a long trip as it was! Over and over 
 Mrs. Pitt told herself how very much wiser it 
 would have been to have hired a motor car 
 which could have quickly deposited them in Mel- 
 rose; but, as it was, in order not to double on 
 their tracks by returning to Edinburgh, they took 
 a train which slowly made it sway down the coast 
 to Berwick-on-Tweed, carrying them through 
 Dunbar, scene of a famous battle at which 
 Cromwell defeated the Covenanters in 1649. 
 Here, also, Edward I conquered John Baliol, 
 many years before. Having changed trains at 
 Berwick-on-Tweed, they passed near old Nor- 
 ham Castle which Marmion knew, and the battle- 
 field at Flodden, the station for which is Cold- 
 stream. 
 
 **Are the Coldstream Guards named from 
 this place 1 ' ' asked Philip. 
 
 ^' Yes, because here those famous Guards 
 were organized by General Monk in 1660," his 
 mother assented. 
 
 Then they entered the Scott country. The 
 fields were flooded with the late afternoon sun- 
 shine. 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 211 
 
 '* Here's Kelso," said Mrs. Pitt by and by. 
 ** There's a very nice old abbey there. Close 
 by is magnificent Floors Castle, belonging to 
 the Duke of Eoxburghe ; he married an Ameri- 
 can, you know, Mary Goelet. Only a little south 
 from here is Yetholm, where there is a quaint 
 gypsy settlement; and a bit west again is Jed- 
 burgh, a very fine old border town which has its 
 associations with Mary Stuart, Prince Charlie, 
 Burns, Scott, and even Wordsworth. But I al- 
 ways associate Jedburgh with my dear old poet, 
 Walter Laidlaw, who for years was caretaker 
 at the beautiful old abbey, founded in the 
 twelfth century. I used to go there, wander 
 in his rose-garden behind the abbey, and hear 
 the old man talk by the hour. Such a Scotch 
 tongue, such humor, such charm as he had ! He 
 died last winter, they tell me, and I never want 
 to see Jedburgh without him! '' 
 
 *^ Where's Branxholme Towers?" inquired 
 Betty presently. ' ' It comes in ' The Lay of the 
 Last Minstrel,' you know. Isn't it near here 
 somewhere? " 
 
 " Yes, I've been there," Mrs. Pitt replied; 
 '* it's near Hawick, a pretty old place which 
 still belongs to the Buccleugh family as it did 
 in the days of the poem. But, somehow, I was 
 a bit disappointed in it, Betty; it's not a real 
 castle now, more like a delightful old manor 
 house." 
 
212 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 All this time they had been drawing nearer to 
 Melrose, and suddenly Betty joyfully sighted 
 the three Eildon Hills. 
 
 ^* There they are! '' she cried. ^^ Once they 
 were just one hill, you know, but Michael Scott, 
 the wizard, made them into three. '^ 
 
 ** And the Queen of the Fairies carried him 
 away," put in Barbara, ^' to her kingdom in- 
 side those hills, — oh, no ! that was Thomas the 
 Rhymer! '' 
 
 *'Who knew that King Arthur and his 
 knights are supposed to be buried underneath 
 the Eildon Hills? '' asked Mrs. Pitt; but no one 
 answered, for just then they pulled into Mel- 
 rose. Leaving their suitcases with the hotel 
 porter, they walked through the village square 
 with its ancient cross, and along the narrow 
 little streets until they reached the Abbey Hotel, 
 close up against the abbey walls. 
 
 Mrs. Pitt knew the delightful landlady, with 
 her rustling black silk, and very rosy cheeks 
 beneath her crisp white cap, — ' * just like a 
 book," as Betty said, — and she induced her to 
 have their tea prepared immediately. This 
 meal being finished, they bought tickets of ad- 
 mission at the thatched house opposite the 
 hotel, the gates were opened for them, and they 
 saw Melrose Abbey, by twilight, if not by moon- 
 light. 
 
 Widely known as the most beautiful of Scot- 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 213 
 
 tish ruins, it must, indeed, be seldom that there 
 comes a visitor who fails to fall under the spell 
 of this beauty, — beauty expressed in every 
 smallest detail of roof, of window tracery, of 
 pillar, and of elaborate carving. One marvels 
 at it ; one wanders about inside the choir which 
 is practically all that now remains, discern- 
 ing possibly an exquisite bit of carving one has 
 never seen before. Referring to the flowers 
 which grew in the monks' garden, Scott wrote, 
 
 "Nor herb nor floweret glistened there, 
 But was carved in the cloister-arches as fair." 
 
 One never tires of loitering outside, among the 
 graves, gazing up at the marvelous grace of the 
 window in the south transept. Surely the peo- 
 ple of olden times knew well how to build! 
 Some one has said of Melrose, — ** architec- 
 turally it is perfect.'* 
 
 Meanwhile John had found the tombs of 
 Alexander II and of Michael Scott, and a stone 
 marking the spot where was buried the heart of 
 the Bruce. 
 
 *^ This is where Deloraine, in ^ The Lay of 
 the Last Minstrel,' came when he opened 
 Michael Scott's grave and took out — ^what was 
 it called, Mrs. Pitt— that book of his? " 
 
 ^^ His ' Spaebook,' Betty. It was full of the 
 magic which Sir Michael had learned from the 
 
214 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 Moors in Spain. It was also called the * Book 
 of Might,' and one thing it taught was how to 
 make ropes of sand. Thomas of Ercildoune, or 
 Thomas the Ehymer,- — the same who was car- 
 ried off by the Queen of the Fairies and had 
 the gift of prophecy, — also took this book from 
 Michael Scott's grave, and, with it in his pos- 
 session, went to Hermitage Castle in company 
 with Bold Walter of Buccleugh, who was try- 
 ing to rescue his brother from the cruel Lord 
 Soulis. They made a rope of sifted sand, ac- 
 cording to directions given in the * Book of 
 Might,' but this did not overcome Lord Soulis, 
 who finally had to be wrapped in lead and boiled 
 in a great caldron. That's the correct treat- 
 ment for a wizard ; remember that, John, in case 
 you some day come across one! By the way, 
 the caldron still stands on the Skelf-hill as a 
 warning to evildoers. 
 
 *' You must know," Mrs. Pitt presently con- 
 tinued, '^ that Michael Scott's fame was, and 
 still is, as great in the Highlands as here in 
 the Lowlands. Sir Michael could make the devil 
 obey him. The people of a certain district were 
 once much confused as to the day on which 
 Shrovetide was to be celebrated, and every year 
 they had to send to the Pope to find out. Fi- 
 nally they decided to ask Michael to ^ get word 
 without a second telling.' Accordingly Michael 
 called the devil to him, converted him into a 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 215 
 
 black horse, and forced him to carry him all the 
 way. They traveled at such a height that there 
 was snow on Michael's hat when he called upon 
 the Pope. Still unwillingly, the devil carried 
 Michael home with the desired answer,— that 
 Shrovetide was ' the first Tuesday of the spring 
 light,' or the first Tuesday of the new spring 
 moon. Splendid adventures did Michael have 
 with the devil, but in the end he almost fell his 
 prey, — and you'll do well to remember that, 
 all of you ! ' ' laughed Mrs. Pitt, as she rose to 
 go in. ^' Michael, when on his deathbed, told 
 his friends to put his body on a hillock towards 
 which three doves and three ravens would be 
 seen to fly. If the ravens reached the body 
 first, it was to be burned ; if the doves were first, 
 it was to be given Christian burial. The ravens 
 were ahead, but they flew beyond the mark, so 
 Michael was decently buried." 
 
 Mrs. Pitt went to order a motor car for the 
 morning, and the others soon followed, as clos- 
 ing time at the abbey had come. Betty's bed- 
 room window overlooked the ruin, and by it she 
 lingered some minutes before getting into bed. 
 There was no moon, but the stars were bright, 
 and now and then the flicker from a lantern or 
 from a candle in some room of the hotel fell 
 upon a bit of the old abbey, making that par- 
 ticular carved face or flower stand out for a 
 second against the darkness. 
 
CHAPTEE FOURTEEN 
 
 ABBOTSFORD AND DRYBUKGH 
 
 ^' Ay, you may have the motor for the very 
 same price as the horses," the old landlady 
 was assuring Mrs. Pitt. ^^ We've had that 
 many tourists this week, my horses are quite 
 worn out, and I'd sooner have you take the 
 motor, which can't get tired, you know. The 
 price is reasonable enough in any case." And 
 Mrs. Pitt knew that it was. 
 
 ** Bully! " cried John, when he heard of the 
 change in plan. ' ' We '11 do it in half the time ! ' ' 
 
 As soon as Barbara had brought down her 
 mother's motor-veil and pongee dust-coat, they 
 were off in the gayest of spirits. Not since 
 leaving London had they ridden in such a grand 
 motor car ! Their pride had a slight fall when 
 some accident befell the engine of the landaulet 
 and, leaving them stranded by the roadside, the 
 chauffeur had to walk back for another car ; but 
 in the red touring car which he brought, they 
 finally arrived at Abbot sf or d. 
 
 ^ ^ What a funny little back way we go in ! " 
 said Betty, going ahead along the steep path 
 
 216 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 217 
 
 which runs from the road, past some formal, 
 walled-in gardens, to a small door near the 
 kitchens of the beautiful house, for many years 
 Sir Walter Scott's beloved home. 
 
 ^^ Abbotsford is associated with some of the 
 brightest as well as the darkest years of Scott's 
 life,'' said Mrs. Pitt. They were now waiting, 
 with a number of others, in the entry, until the 
 guide should finish with an earlier party he 
 was showing through the house. ^' When 
 Scott was thirty-four and was living with his 
 wife and ^ve children at Ashestiel, not far from 
 here, he wrote ^ The Lay of the Last Minstrel ' 
 which made his reputation. * Marmion ' and 
 ^ The Lady of the Lake ' soon followed, and it 
 was then that Scott bought this land at Abbots- 
 ford and built the fine house. Here he had a 
 very happy life with his family, his friends, and 
 his pets. He had two dogs, ^ Maida,' a stag- 
 hound, and ' Camp,' a terrier, who were always 
 with him. It is said that Maida grew so tired 
 of publicity that she would calmly leave the 
 spot when any one appeared with a sketch- 
 book. Scott was very fond of his horses, too, 
 and never allowed them to be taken out on Sun- 
 day. His steward, Willie Laidlaw, and Tom 
 Purdie, his forester, were also his devoted 
 friends; he became rich and famous. George 
 IV made him a baronet in 1820. 
 
 *' But, later on there was a panic, during 
 
2i8 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 which his publishers failed and Scott lost every- 
 thing. The rest of his life was one pitiable 
 struggle to make enough money to pay his 
 creditors. Lady Scott died at Abbotsford, and 
 then Tom Purdie died very suddenly; Scott's 
 little grandson, John Hugh Lockhart, (whom he 
 calls ' Little John ' in ' Tales of a Grand- 
 father '), was pronounced incurable. Scott him- 
 self had a severe illness, but pluckily went on 
 with his work, his creditors showing their grati- 
 tude for his efforts by giving him back most of 
 his possessions and allowing him to live here. 
 But gradually the poor man's mind failed, and 
 soon he could no longer write. It was sad, very 
 sad. His son and daughter took him to Italy, 
 but he begged to be brought home to Abbots- 
 ford, where he died.'' 
 
 No sooner had Mrs. Pitt finished than the 
 door opened and out poured a company of en- 
 thusiastic, chattering tourists, of whose con- 
 versation they caught bits here and there. 
 
 '^ That fat woman would stand right in my 
 way, and I couldn't see one thing in the round 
 case hj the window! " This from a brisk little 
 woman with short skirts, a business-like air, and 
 sharp gray eyes peering through their spec- 
 tacles. 
 
 ^' Mean old thing! He wouldn't let me take 
 a snapshot of the hall with all that dandy 
 armor ! ' ' cried a loud-voiced American girl, her 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 219 
 
 arm through that of a showily-dressed friend. 
 
 '^ Pas moil Jamais! " A round Frenchman 
 and his stouter wife swept haughtily past the 
 meek guide, who was standing by the door to 
 collect his tips from any one who felt sufficient 
 gratitude to make a return for his efforts. 
 
 Suddenly they all flocked back to their 
 coaches on the road above, and the guide, with 
 a resigned air, once more led the way upstairs, 
 Mrs. Pitt and the others following. 
 
 ^^ This, ladies and gentlemen, was Scott's 
 study where he wrote. See? That's his own 
 desk and chair, the desk made from wood 
 of one of the ships of the Spanish Armada. 
 Ay, all his books that he worked with are up 
 there on the balcony running around the room ; 
 there's a small staircase to reach it. See? In 
 the corner of the balcony, there is a private door 
 which led into Scott's bedroom. He could get 
 in and out with no one knowing it. See? In 
 this little anteroom here, Scott received any 
 casual visitors, you might say. It's called 
 ' Speak a bit.' See? " 
 
 Very, very devoted to Scott is this quaint old 
 guide, and very anxious that they should miss 
 no smallest thing of interest in connection with 
 the great man. He showed them the old library, 
 with its many shelves of books, still as the poet 
 arranged them to suit his fancy; he pointed out 
 the beautiful portrait of Scott by Sir Henry 
 
2 20 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 Raeburn, the well-known one in which Scott is 
 seated by a mined wall with the dog, " Camp," 
 at his feet, and another dog, a greyhound, look- 
 ing into his master's face; he showed them the 
 richly carved ceiling of the library, the design 
 copied from the roof of Rosslyn Chapel, and 
 the fantastic Chinese wall-paper of the drawing- 
 room, of which its owner was very prond. 
 
 They lingered long over the glass case in 
 the library bow-window, which contains many 
 things of unusual value and interest. 
 
 ** Here's Tom Purdie's knife! '' exclaimed 
 John. ^* See how big it is! " 
 
 ^* And a lock of Prince Charlie's hair," said 
 Barbara. 
 
 ' ' Napoleon 's blotting-book, found in his car- 
 riage after Waterloo ! ' ' 
 
 ^^ And Rob Roy's purse, and a piece of Queen 
 Mary's dress, and her ivory crucifix which she 
 may have carried at her execution." Betty was 
 beside herself! There was so much to see in 
 this case alone! 
 
 *^ Here's Prince Charlie's own quaich, Betty. 
 See, it has a glass bottom! And here are 
 others, too, one made from Queen Mary's yew 
 tree at Craigmillar Castle." 
 
 ^' You might steal one of these to send your 
 mother for her birthday, Betty! " put in Bar- 
 bara. 
 
 John was already in the armory, examining 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 221 
 
 the swords and spurs, pistols, and weapons of 
 all sorts and from all countries. Some are 
 there because of their beauty of workmanship; 
 others have great historic interest as well, such 
 as Rob Eoy's gun and the great Montrose's 
 sword, with its royal arms and its Latin in- 
 scriptions. 
 
 Thinking of the original keys from the 
 * ^ Heart of Midlothian, ' ' which she had seen in 
 the entrance hall, Mrs. Pitt mused, ' ' I wonder 
 if Scott built some of his novels around these 
 treasures, or did he collect the treasures be- 
 cause he had written the novels! '^ 
 
 But this question it is impossible for any one 
 to answer, and Mrs. Pitt turned to listen to the 
 guide's explanation of two old sketches which 
 hang on the armory wall. 
 
 The first picture is called ^* The Dish of 
 Spurs," and it shows what is said to be an 
 ancient border custom. A housewife, finding 
 that her larder is quite empty, places a dish 
 of spurs upon the table as a suggestion to the 
 men of her family that they had better start off 
 on a raid and capture some of their neighbors' 
 cattle. The young Laird of Harden, Walter 
 Scott's ancestor, apparently took this hint, and, 
 on the lands of the Laird of Elibank, was cap- 
 tured and sentenced to be hanged for stealing 
 cattle. But Lady Elibank interposed and per- 
 suaded her husband to give the prisoner his 
 
222 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 choice of a lianging or a marriage with Ms 
 daughter, " Muckle-Mouthed Meg,'' who was 
 not celebrated for her beauty, as the next pic- 
 ture shows us. This sketch is called ^^ The 
 Eiever's Wedding," and makes it plain that the 
 young man chose to marry the frightfully un- 
 attractive lady who, however, made him an ex- 
 cellent wife and was splendid at '^ pickling the 
 beef.'' 
 
 * ^ And, ' ' said the guide, * * Sir Walter and the 
 Honorable Mrs. Maxwell-Scott, his great-grand- 
 daughter, who now owns this house, — the two 
 are descended from ' Muckle-Mouthed Meg.' 
 See? " 
 
 Barbara looked longingly from the front win- 
 dows of the house, which command a view of the 
 lawn stretching smoothly away to the pretty 
 river Tweed. She longed to wander about 
 there, but was promptly silenced by the guide, 
 who told her that visitors are never allowed 
 on the lawn or in the gardens. So they took 
 their seats in the motor car and soon forgot 
 their disappointment in the delightful drive 
 across country. 
 
 Before reaching Dryburgh Abbey, however, 
 they took a rough road leading from the main 
 highway to Sandyknowe farm, where Scott, as a 
 delicate boy, was sent to stay with his grand- 
 father and his aunt. It is a typical brick farm- 
 house, surrounded by its outbuildings, beyond 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 223 
 
 which a lane leads through rocky fields to a 
 hill surmounted by an old Border tower. 
 
 ^^ Oh," cried Betty, all at once remembering 
 the connection. ^^ It's Smailholm Tower, where 
 Scott lay and watched the thunderstorm ! ' ' 
 
 ^' You're right again, Betty," laughed Mrs. 
 Pitt. ^ ' The boy Scott was very much attached 
 to this old Border peel, or watch-tower. Here 
 he used to come very often and here it was 
 that his aunt found him during a severe 
 thunderstorm. He was lying on his back on 
 this hilltop, enjoying himself to the full, and, 
 after a particularly loud burst of thunder, they 
 heard him cry, ^ Bonnie ! Bonnie ! ' Scott sev- 
 eral times wrote of this tower about which his 
 love and imagination grouped many tales. The 
 vicinity is described in his ^ Eve of St. John ' 
 and in ^ Marmion,' too, Scott tells of his boy- 
 hood here." 
 
 The old tower is very picturesque, square 
 and tall, with four stories and a gabled roof; 
 but, best of all, are its beautiful views of the 
 varied country where, as Scott truly said, 
 
 "... naked cliffs were rudely piled; 
 But ever and anon between 
 Lay velvet tufts of loveliest green ; " 
 
 Through tiny villages, along high, dusty 
 roads, through cool, dark valleys they sped un- 
 
224 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 til the chauffeur stopped near a lodge, from 
 which a young girl was already emerging to sell 
 them tickets for Dryburgh Abbey. Taking the 
 money from Mrs. Pitt, she pointed out their 
 way along a shady path, crossed here and there 
 by the roots of great beech trees. 
 
 *^ Next to my favorite Fountains Abbey in 
 Yorkshire,'' said Mrs. Pitt, as she sauntered 
 along, ^ * I think that Dryburgh has the loveliest 
 situation. Here, among the old yews and the 
 cedars of Lebanon, in this spot remote from all 
 except the river, there is surely a wonderful 
 charm about the ruins of church, refectory, chap- 
 ter-house, and cloisters. And then, there's 
 Scott 's tomb, you know. He was buried here by 
 virtue of rights held by his ancestors, the Hali- 
 burtons, at one time owners of the abbey." 
 
 And they found it all quite as delightful as 
 Mrs. Pitt had intimated. First of all they stood 
 by Scott's tomb, beneath a fragment of a tran- 
 sept, where the great man was laid in the year 
 1832, and where other members of his family 
 are now beside him; they gazed and admired, 
 and gazed again, at the delicate tracery of St. 
 Catherine's rose-window peeping out from its 
 covering of green ivy, and at the exquisite grace 
 of the ancient Saxon door which divides the 
 church from what were once the cloisters ; they 
 explored the refectory and the domestic build- 
 ings and the Abbot 's parlor, with its damp walls 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 225 
 
 and ceiling still intact. Quietly they moved 
 about, and quietly they walked back to the 
 thumping motor car, which they could almost 
 have hated for the moment because it dared to 
 intrude upon the beauty, the peace of Dryburgh 
 Abbey. 
 
 They were a long distance away before any 
 one spoke; then it was John who said, ^' Well, 
 I can't see why a lot of monks should want to 
 go off and live all by themselves, but if they 
 were bound to do it, they certainly chose a bully 
 place I ' ' 
 
 (The return drive to Melrose took them along 
 a road which wound high above the silvery 
 Tweed; at a point which commanded an en- 
 chanting view of distant hills and of the nearer 
 deep green valley through which winds the 
 river, in its ^* horseshoe curve,'' the chauffeur 
 stopped his motor car, jumped out, and, coming 
 to their side, said: *^ This is Sir Walter Scott's 
 view, lady. He often drove to Dryburgh Ab- 
 bey by this very road, and each time he would 
 pause just here for the view. Finally the horses 
 would stop of themselves, you might say, and 
 that's just what they did on the day of the 
 funeral when they were taking Scott's body to 
 the abbey. They say the coachman had hard 
 work getting the horses to start again." 
 
 Delaying long enough to say farewell to the 
 landlady at the hotel and to pick up their suit- 
 
226 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 cases, they weTe carried on in tlie motor car to 
 the station in time for the Edinburgh train. 
 They were in good time but the train was not. 
 Forty impatient minutes they waited on that 
 platform, and the time would have seemed long 
 indeed had not a station official afforded them 
 much amusement by his efforts to paste one of 
 the railway company's new timetables on the 
 big bulletin-board. 
 
 John stood looking on, a mixture of fun and 
 disgust upon his face. '^ If we had such things 
 in America, a fellow would stick on about two 
 dozen in the time this man needs for one. My, 
 but he 's slow ! ' ' 
 
 '' Yes," said Betty, '^ and his fingers are all 
 thumbs! " 
 
 The clumsy Scotchman would measure the 
 space with a careful eye, then cover it with 
 the limp timetable, one side covered with paste. 
 Apparently satisfied, he would press it lightly 
 along the top edge, and all the spectators would 
 be thinking how well it was going, when he 
 would jerk the whole thing off. There had been 
 a wrinkle somewhere. Patiently moistening his 
 great brush, he would slowly begin all over 
 again, the station-master, who stood by, occa- 
 sionally giving a word of advice,— -a tall carica- 
 ture of a station-master who, for some reason 
 best known to himself, wore a silk hat with his 
 rough, brownish trousers and shirtsleeves. The 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 227 
 
 two were still at work when the belated train 
 appeared. 
 
 Trains in Great Britain may not look as sub- 
 stantial and capable as those in America, but 
 they can run fast, and with less danger of acci- 
 dents. This especial one seemed to be trying to 
 make up its lost time. On through towns and 
 between fields of grain it hurried them. They 
 whirled through Lauder, where Archibald 
 Douglas, or " Bell the Cat," of Tantallon Cas- 
 tle, seized and promptly hanged Cochrane, a 
 worthless favorite of King James III; they 
 caught sight of the fifteenth-century keep of 
 Crichton Castle on the right and, on their left, 
 of Borthwick Castle, with a room in which 
 Queen Mary and Bothwell once passed the 
 night. Then it seemed but a very short time 
 until familiar Arthur's Seat appeared before 
 them, and they left the train at the Waverley 
 Station. It was very good to be riding up 
 Princes Street once more and to find all quite 
 as they had left it. 
 
CHAPTER FIFTEEN 
 
 HAWTHORNDEN AND ROSLIN 
 
 *' Walked all the way from London, did he? 
 Whew ! Wasn't he the fat one who always spilt 
 his soup and drank twenty-five cups of tea at 
 a time? Should think he'd have been done for 
 after that jaunt ! ' ' 
 
 Very emphatically, even a bit impatiently, 
 was John corrected by his sister. Of course it 
 had not been eighteenth-century Dr. Johnson 
 but seventeenth-century Ben Jonson, the poet, 
 who had thus made his way north to pay a visit 
 to his friend, Drummond of Hawthornden, near 
 Edinburgh. 
 
 Toward the beautiful estate which formerly 
 belonged to this Scotch poet, Drummond, they 
 were now turning their steps on a fair July 
 morning. Once before they had come, only to 
 be sent back to the city because the days for 
 admitting strangers had recently been changed ; 
 this time the woman at the lodge smilingly ad- 
 mitted them and they proceeded along the wide 
 drive. 
 
 *^ I wish we could have come in rhododendron 
 228 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 229 
 
 season, ' ' remarked Barbara. ^ * See, the bushes 
 are thick at both sides of the road, and I'm 
 sure they had those lavender blossoms, aren't 
 you, Mother? '' 
 
 Soon they came to the old garden, full of 
 dainty, pale tea roses, and approached by the 
 quaintest of gateways surmounted by two an- 
 cient urns. Near by is a wonderful sycamore 
 tree, said to be the largest in all Scotland. Try 
 as he would, John could not focus his camera 
 so as to take in either its height or the width 
 of its great spreading branches. As they mar- 
 veled at its beauty, a woman who was knitting 
 in the rose-garden told them that under this 
 very tree Drummond stood to welcome his fa- 
 mous English guest. 
 
 * ^ By Jove ! ' ' exclaimed Philip all at once. 
 ** There's a tree growing up out of the castle 
 itself! " 
 
 The woman did not smile ; she only told them, 
 with the weary air of one having given the 
 same information to visitors since time was, of 
 how some one had once planted a shoot from 
 the famous sycamore tree inside the old keep. 
 And so it now looms up very strangely above 
 the square tower. 
 
 ** You see," said Mrs. Pitt, sitting down on 
 a wall to rest, '^ this old keep once belonged 
 to a castle built by the Bruce himself. Drum- 
 mond only added his seventeenth-century house 
 
230 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 to the ancient building; that's why we see such 
 a qneer, irregular structure, part of the original 
 gray stone and part, a kind of plaster painted 
 terra cotta. Under the house are still some 
 caves in the great rock, where the Bruce is said 
 to have taken refuge from his enemies. We can 
 see the caves, I think; I'll ask the woman to 
 show us the way." 
 
 *^ Don't see how Bruce ever got in here! " 
 cried John a few minutes later, standing at the 
 mouth of these strange caves. The rock drops 
 steeply from where John was standing down 
 to the Esk River flowing many feet below. 
 ^^ Do you mean he climbed up over this 
 rock?" 
 
 '' He probably had many harder things than 
 that to do, John." Mrs. Pitt and the others 
 were exploring one of the inner caves, where 
 the walls are lined with rows and rows of odd 
 little square niches. 
 
 *VSome people believe that the Eomans used 
 these caves, and that the niches were intended 
 to hold the ashes of their dead. Others call this 
 Robert Bruce 's Library, but I think the old 
 Scotchman was about right when he said, 
 ^ There wadna be mony bund books then.' 
 Come, let's start on our walk through the val- 
 ley now. The woman told us to go under the 
 green lattice gateway and follow the path along 
 this side of the river." 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 231 
 
 ** Yes, Mother, until we see a little foot- 
 bridge. Then we cross and go along the oppo- 
 site bank. Is it far to Eoslin? '^ 
 
 From Hawthornden to Roslin is in reality 
 only about a mile and three-quarters, and to 
 walk it is one of the most delightful of experi- 
 ences. At first they kept turning back for a last 
 glance at the picturesque pile they had just 
 left, which, from the valley, seems almost to be 
 suspended among the tree-tops, high above the 
 river. Again and again they saw it as they 
 wound down the mossy path, and each time it 
 made a lovelier picture. 
 
 '^ That's the last time, surely, '* said Bar- 
 bara by and by; and she was right, for just 
 then they crossed the foot-bridge with a tiny 
 tollgate in the center, and then went on by the 
 right bank of the Esk. 
 
 ^ ' In the spring there must be a great deal of 
 wild onion here," remarked Mrs. Pitt; step- 
 ping carefully over a muddy spot. ^' It doesn't 
 smell good, I know, but its white blossoms are 
 so pretty! Isn't the sunshine beautiful, peep- 
 ing between the leaves at us, Barbara ! Do you 
 have such trees at home, Betty, and such 
 ferns? " 
 
 ^ ' The water is very brown, ' ' said John, feel- 
 ing it his duty to criticise things a bit now and 
 then. ^^ P'r'aps it's only because there are so 
 many rocks in the way to make tiny waterfalls, 
 
232 JOHN AND BETTY^S 
 
 and they stir it up.'' Then he ran eagerly- 
 ahead to examine a curiously arranged flood- 
 gate, the operation of which he did not well 
 understand. 
 
 Their path now became rougher and steeper; 
 they scrambled up over rocks, holding by the 
 bushes and lower branches; they crept down 
 slippery descents; and they stepped high over 
 the giant tree-roots. A gentleman pointed out to 
 them a short cut to Rosslyn Chapel, away from 
 the rocky path; following his directions, they 
 had a hard walk across fields and up a hill- 
 side, but at last they arrived, breathless, beside 
 far-famed Rosslyn Chapel. 
 
 * ^ Wait a moment, children ! Just wait till 
 I get my breath! And my hat! Please 
 straighten it, Barbara. My word! that was a 
 climb for me ! " 
 
 Mrs. Pitt had dropped upon the grass for a 
 moment, but she soon allowed Philip to pull her 
 up, laughing, as he said, ** Never mind. Mother; 
 the walk was worth it! " 
 
 Before going any nearer the chapel, they 
 went down a path which brought them to Ross- 
 lyn Castle. A very fine old place they found 
 it, with its picturesque ruined keep, its private 
 chapel, and its beacon-tower from which alarms 
 could be sent out in the olden days. On one 
 side of the courtyard is a building which was 
 restored in 1622 ; it is still used, probably by a 
 
m ^n 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 233 
 
 caretaker, who has the unusual advantage of 
 living in a beautiful old room with pitch-pine 
 paneling and a quaint ceiling in nine squares, 
 one of which bears the St. Clair arms. 
 
 * * ^ The lordly line of high St. Clair ' has been 
 a family of note in Scotland ever since Malcolm 
 Canmore gave the Roslin territory into the pos- 
 session of the founder of the line, a Norman 
 baron.'' So Mrs. Pitt was telling them. " An 
 ancestor of his was among those with Lord 
 James Douglas when he started for Palestine, 
 carrying the Bruce 's heart. There is a legend 
 about a certain brave earl of this line who, to 
 prove that his two dogs could run down a mys- 
 terious white deer which even the king's own 
 hounds could not overtake, wagered his head 
 against the forest of Pentland, which the king 
 promised to give him if his dogs could perform 
 the feat. At first it did look as though the 
 Earl would lose, but little by little his dogs 
 gained on the deer until finally they overtook 
 and killed it. But it is said that St. Clair, 
 though his life was saved, could never forget 
 the pitiful glance which the dying deer gave 
 him. It haunted the Earl and it seemed surely 
 to have some strange significance for, in a ter- 
 rible storm, not long after, the beautiful daugh- 
 ter of the house was drowned by the upsetting 
 of her boat in the Firth. You can read the 
 story of ' Rosabelle ' in Scott's ' Lay of the 
 
234 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 Last Minstrel,' where it is given as one of the 
 short songs." 
 
 *^ Yes," said Betty, *' I remember. It tells 
 how the chapel here at Koslin seemed to be on 
 fire that night ; it always looked like that before 
 one of the St. Glairs was to die. And then they 
 were buried in their armor, uncovered, in the 
 crypt, weren't they? " 
 
 Mrs. Pitt had been trying to escape the many 
 guides who flocked the castle precincts, but she 
 finally listened to the pleadings of one Scotch 
 youth. They were glad afterwards for, leading 
 them through an old garden and past an ancient 
 Irish yew tree (from which they used to make 
 cross-bows because the wood was very flexible), 
 he showed them vast buildings which are not 
 visible from the courtyard above, because they 
 are low and slope toward the river. They won- 
 dered at the huge baronial hall measuring sixty- 
 four feet, and at the small rooms underneath 
 which served as soldiers' quarters, rooms prac- 
 tically of the same size with arched stone roofs, 
 one window, and uneven stone floors. They 
 were amazed at the kitchen fireplace, which their 
 guide called the largest in Europe, and prop- 
 erly impressed by the entrance to a blocked-up 
 subterranean passage, which once connected 
 Eosslyn Castle with Hawthornden, and had sev- 
 eral entrances through caves in the G-len of the 
 Esk. 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 235 
 
 *^ Oh! " burst out John; ^^ I want to go back 
 and find them.'' 
 
 They saw some tiny round holes in the outer 
 walls of the Bell Tower, from which arrows 
 were shot. It is very rarely that one sees 
 round holes instead of the narrow slits. They 
 even heard of lifts and of speaking-tubes! 
 Strange things indeed to stumble across in an 
 ancient Scotch castle! On the whole, they did 
 not grudge the guide his fee. 
 
 ^^ It was Earl William, living in the middle 
 of the fifteenth century, who founded Rosslyn 
 Chapel," said Mrs. Pitt, as they left the castle 
 behind them at last. '^ It was intended as the 
 choir of a church which was never completed. 
 This was the St. Clair who lived in grand state, 
 Betty, being served by real earls who boasted 
 castles of their own ; and his countess, Margaret 
 Douglas, was attended by seventy-five gentle- 
 women, fifty-three of whom were the daughters 
 of noblemen. But all their power and wealth 
 could not prevent their magnificent chapel, built 
 in 1446, from being destroyed in the revolution 
 of 1688. Here it stood, unroofed and without 
 either doors or windows, for long years before 
 it was restored. It is most interesting, I think, 
 that the late Earl had a horror of the ancient 
 burial, custom of his family; he wanted to be 
 outside the chapel, ' in the sunshine, ' as he said. 
 
236 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 and they accordingly laid him beneath the sod 
 at the west end of the chapel." 
 
 ^* Well, he was the only sensible one among 
 'em, ' ' John muttered, as they neared the chapel 
 door. 
 
 Both inside and out, Rosslyn Chapel is a mar- 
 vel of minute design and elaborate carving done 
 in the Spanish style. It is overpowering. 
 
 "I'm not sure whether I like it," whispered 
 Betty, gazing about her and then up at the 
 carved stone ceiling. " It's so ditferent some- 
 how, not at all like what I thought I'd see ! " 
 
 Barbara was not long in finding the cele- 
 brated " 'Prentice Pillar," which has its 
 pathetic little legend. As usual, John had for- 
 gotten this, so Mrs. Pitt went through it briefly 
 for his benefit. 
 
 " The master-builder was dissatisfied with his 
 designs," she said; " he wanted to fimd a still 
 more exquisite one for a certain pillar which 
 was to stand near the altar, so he went to the 
 Holy Land for his inspiration. Meantime a 
 young apprentice boy, who worked on the build- 
 ing, knew why his master was delaying the 
 structure. Having an idea of his own for the 
 design of this last pillar, — to wind about it a 
 marvelously delicate garland of foliage, — the 
 boy set about to carve it himself, and far more 
 lovely than any of the others it proved. When 
 the master came back, he saw and realized this, 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 237 
 
 but lie was jealous and so angry with the boy 
 that he struck him with a tool and killed him. 
 There's the pillar, still in its place. Will you 
 come and look at it, Betty? '' 
 
 It was almost six o'clock when they stepped 
 into one of the tourist coaches which ply be- 
 tween Eoslin and Edinburgh. 
 
 ''It's been a great day! " said John, swing- 
 ing himself up to his favorite seat beside the 
 driver. 
 
 ''Yes," assented his sister, "but I don't 
 want it to be over! It's the very last night we 
 can go back to dear Edinburgh ! ' ' 
 
CHAPTER SIXTEEN 
 
 LINLITHGOW, STIELING, AND THE TROSSACHS 
 
 '' Was that it? Was that it! Oh, I could 
 hardly see it at all! John, you bobbed your 
 head at just the wrong moment. dear! I 
 did so want to see Queen Margaret's Bower! '' 
 So fast had the train gone through Linlithgow 
 that only a very hurried glance could any of 
 them snatch at the imposing old palace, birth- 
 place of Mary Stuart. 
 
 Those fortunate enough to pay it a visit find 
 that the huge ruined pile in many ways still 
 suggests its former elegance: by the broken 
 fountain in the court from which that before 
 Holyrood was copied; by its vast suites of 
 apartments for use by the lords and ladies of 
 the court ; by its splendid banquet-hall ; and by 
 a curious window, like a horizontal ladder, 
 which was especially designed to throw light on 
 the fine ceiling of a drawing-room. One can 
 understand why Scott thus described it : 
 
 " Of all the palaces so fair, 
 
 Built for the royal dwelling, 
 238 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 239 
 
 In Scotland, far beyond compare 
 Linlithgow is excelling; " 
 
 << The good Regent Murray was assassinated 
 in the streets of Linlithgow, you remember, 
 and it was in one of the guardrooms, near the 
 palace entrance, that he died. What was Queen 
 Margaret's Bower, did you ask? A little six- 
 sided turret at the top of a certain high tower. 
 It was a favorite retreat of Queen Margaret, 
 from which she is said to have watched in vain 
 for the return of her husband, James IV, from 
 Flodden Field. Barbara, will you put up the 
 window, please 1 What disgusting smoke ! ' ' 
 
 '^ Mother, didn't you once tell me that it was 
 at Linlithgow that some one took the place by 
 fetching in some armed men in a load of hay? " 
 
 ^' Quite right, Philip; I had almost forgotten 
 that myself. It was Bruce, of course, who 
 thought of the plan and thus took possession in 
 1313, turning out the forces of Edward I, who 
 had held it for some years.'' 
 
 '^ Bruce was like that ' Sentimental 
 Tommy, ' ' ' put in Barbara ; ^ ^ he could al- 
 ways ' find a wy,' too." 
 
 ^^ There was a farmer, named William Bun- 
 nock, who traded with the garrison but who was 
 secretly on the side of the Scotch," continued 
 Mrs. Pitt; ^' it was he who drove in the huge 
 load of hay. No sooner had it safely passed 
 
240 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 the drawbridge than a number of armed men 
 sprang out and quickly overcame the guards; 
 reenforcements came and the castle was soon 
 recovered by the Scotch." 
 
 It was now nearing noon and they had come 
 in sight of Stirling Castle, hardly less cele- 
 brated in history and situation than that of 
 Edinburgh itself. 
 
 ^< Why, it's just exactly like Edinburgh, isn't 
 it ? " exclaimed Betty. 
 
 Having first eaten their luncheon, they 
 climbed one of the steep streets leading to the 
 castle esplanade, entering by the Queen Anne 
 gateway, marked with the dainty initials A. E. 
 Mrs. Pitt pointed out a quaint little garden at 
 their left, where roses appear quite content to 
 wander over gray walls, the garden occupying 
 part of the oldtime moat. Above is standing 
 a portion of a very ancient building reached by 
 a steep flight of stone steps. 
 
 * ^ They lead to the room where the boy, James 
 VI, used to study with his famous tutor, George 
 Buchanan. You know," said Mrs. Pitt, ^* that 
 Queen Mary sent him here to be educated by her 
 Catholic friends and here he lived until he was 
 thirteen years old. Mary herself knew this cas- 
 tle well; she was crowned here when but nine 
 months old ; she lived here for four years ; and 
 here she was privately married to Darnley. 
 Come and walk around this old palace of James 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 241 
 
 V'. I think it is most interesting. It is much 
 carved, you see, reminding one of the French 
 style. The heavy iron bars at the windows 
 were put there to insure the safety of the baby, 
 James VI; of course there was always the fear 
 that the Protestants would carry him off. But 
 these old statues are most curious of all! '^ 
 
 *^ Well, I should say, yes! '' cried John, look- 
 ing up at the quaint figures which are placed, at 
 intervals, all around the palace walls. '^ Look 
 at this guy with the pointed cap and the big 
 spoon! '' 
 
 ** He must be the cook! '' laughed Barbara. 
 
 * * He is, ' ' replied her mother, ' ' and here is a 
 steward, a courtier, and a court lady, and 
 around here they even pictured the king and 
 queen. See, aren^t they delightful! " 
 
 They then saw the ancient Parliament House, 
 and the Eoyal Chapel which James VI had hur- 
 riedly restored in 1594 for the baptism of his 
 son. Prince Henry. This is now divided, one 
 part being used as dining-hall and the other as 
 schoolroom for some of the soldiers. (Some of 
 them certainly look young enough to be still at 
 their lessons!) Even the fine old palace, with 
 all its gargoyles, is now serving as a barracks. 
 
 There is much to be seen from the corner of 
 the Douglas Garden. In the far distance rise 
 the Highland mountains, blue and hazy, the 
 mountains of ^ ' The Lady of the Lake, ' ' and the 
 
242 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 haunts of Rob Roy. But all this they were to 
 see the next day, so they turned their atten- 
 tion from the wonderful view to things nearer 
 at hand. 
 
 *' There's the tall Wallace Monument/' said 
 Mrs. Pitt, '' and the Old Bridge of Stirling, 
 built about 1410, and for centuries the only 
 gateway to the Highlands ; near it Wallace 
 won his greatest victory over the English in 
 September, 1297. It was under that bridge, 
 too, Betty, that David and Allan, in ^ Kid- 
 napped,' hid when they had at length ventured 
 down from the mountains. There's the behead- 
 ing-stone, — no, there! on the hilltop! It's cov- 
 ered by an iron grating. Many a gallant man 
 has looked his last from that unlucky spot! 
 The hill was sometimes called ' Hurley-Haaky, ' 
 too," she added; " in old Scotch, ^ haaky ' 
 meant cow, and ^ hurley,' to coast. James V 
 used to coast down that slope on a cow's skull, 
 so they say. ' ' 
 
 "' Why on earth did he choose that? " in- 
 quired John. ^' Must have been awfully jolty, 
 for a king! " 
 
 '' James V was a very merry and democratic 
 person, you know; it was he who used to dis- 
 guise himself as the * Gudeman of Ballengeich, ' 
 and wander all over the country in search of 
 adventures to make him better acquainted with 
 his people. ' Ballengeich ' means windy pass, 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 243 
 
 and was the name of this rough road beneath 
 us, which was once the main approach to the 
 castle. ' ' They were still standing on the battle- 
 ment of the Douglas Garden and, following 
 Mrs. Pitt's example, they leaned over as far as 
 possible to see the picturesque road and gate- 
 way. 
 
 ^^ Down the Ballengeich Eoad James V used 
 to go, and so he took its name for his incognito. ' ' 
 
 ^^ I remember a story about the ^ Laird of 
 Ballengeich 's ' meeting a farmer named John 
 Howieson, ' ' said Barbara presently. ^ ^ Several 
 gypsies had attacked the King, who was doing 
 his best to protect himself when Howieson ap- 
 peared, just in time to save him. But, of course, 
 he didn 't know it was the King. James, still dis- 
 guised, went to the farmhouse, where Howieson 
 washed his wounds and then insisted upon see- 
 ing him safely back to the city. On the way 
 the ' Gudeman ' told Howieson that he lived at 
 the castle and he invited the farmer to go to 
 see him there the next Sunday. John had never 
 been to the castle and felt a bit shy, but his 
 host showed him all about and then led him to 
 a room full of people. They all took off their 
 hats except Howieson and his companion, but 
 even the farmer didn't realize right away that 
 his friend was the King. He knew finally, of 
 course! James gave him the land on which he 
 lived at Braehead on condition that he and his 
 
244 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 descendants should always be ready to offer a 
 basin of water for the King of Scotland to wash 
 his hands.'' 
 
 '' Did you know/' added Mrs. Pitt, '' that 
 when George IV was in Scotland in 1822, a 
 Howieson of Braehead came to the castle and 
 offered the King a silver basin of water? The 
 old terms had not been forgotten." 
 
 *' That's certainly a lovely story," remarked 
 Betty contentedly, as they were walking to- 
 wards the Douglas Eoom. 
 
 It is supposed to have been in this room that 
 James II killed the Earl of Douglas, who had 
 entered into a powerful league with the Earls 
 of Eoss and Crawford, thus angering his sov- 
 ereign. When the Douglas refused to with- 
 draw from the league at command of the King, 
 the latter, in sudden rage, drew his sword and 
 killed him. A spirited poem describes this 
 scene, and makes the Douglas say: 
 
 " ' No, by the cross it may not be ; 
 
 IVe pledged my knightly word,' 
 And like a thunder-cloud he scowled, 
 
 And half unsheathed his sword. 
 Then drew the king that jeweled glaive, 
 
 Which gore so oft had spilt, 
 And in the haughty Douglas' heart 
 
 He sheathed it to the hilt." 
 
 The Douglas Eoom is rather disappointing; 
 there was a fire not long ago and part of the 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 245 
 
 paneling is new. One may see a motley collec- 
 tion of relics and weapons, and in the adjoin- 
 ing closet is a Douglas memorial window, placed 
 there by Queen Victoria's order. 
 
 At the ^' Ladies' Lookout " they paused some 
 time to enjoy another superb view. Just below 
 the great castle rock, which is clearly seen from 
 that point, is the ancient King's Park and the 
 King's Knot, the quaint shapes of the latter 's 
 flower-beds now like faint ghosts of the old royal 
 garden. On this day there was visible some- 
 thing so modern, so much more real, that one 
 hardly noticed the old Eoyal Park at all; this 
 was a huge white cross on the grass of a neigh- 
 boring field which marked the spot where an 
 aviator from Edinburgh was expected to land 
 that afternoon. 
 
 ^^ I shouldn't wonder if the King's Knot 
 faded away altogether before that flying ma- 
 chine comes," said Betty dreamily. 
 
 Later they stood once more in the wide es- 
 planade, beside the statue of the Bruce, and 
 like the form of the hero, looked off towards 
 the southeast. 
 
 ** And over there was Bannockburn, Bruce 's 
 greatest victory! " Betty was musing. *' I 
 could stay here forever and imagine things! 
 It was in 1314, wasn't it? Well, just look 
 straight over all these houses with their dirty 
 black chimneys, and it's just as easy to see the 
 
246 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 little burn with Bruce there beside it, thinking 
 what to do next. ' ^ 
 
 This was more than John could bear. * * The 
 idea! '' he ejaculated. '* Wasn't the battle go- 
 ing on? He wouldn't stand still like an idiot 
 and wonder what to do next, you stupid! He 
 just had to do it, right off ! " 
 
 But Betty dreamed on, unheeding. ** Bruce 
 had women dressed in plaids and carrying 
 weapons, who were on the hills all around. 
 They couldn't really have fought much, of 
 course, but the English thought they were a 
 whole new army. And Bruce dug trenches and 
 the English fell into them, horses and all! " 
 
 '' What does Bannockburn mean, anyhow? *' 
 John demanded. Whereupon Barbara ex- 
 plained to him that a burn was a brook, of 
 course, and that a bannock is a flat Scotch cake, 
 made of oatmeal. "" The soldiers carried these 
 bannocks with them," said she, " and they 
 dipped them in the burn to moisten them. 
 Wasn't that how the name originated, 
 Mother? " 
 
 Mrs. Pitt agreed that that might easily have 
 been the explanation. And then they walked 
 back to the station, passing through different 
 streets and seeing many fine old churches and 
 houses, and the Tolbooth, with its adjoining 
 Mercat Cross. 
 
 From Stirling to Callander is not a long trip, 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 247 
 
 and upon arrival there they found a big coach 
 in readiness to take them to the Trossachs 
 Hotel. 
 
 By this time the sun was getting low, but it 
 still lay brightly upon certain hillsides and 
 lighted up the leaves on the topmost branches 
 to an almost dazzling green. There had been 
 a short but heavy shower during the day, fresh- 
 ening everything after the heat, which had been 
 most unusual for Scotland. The mountain- 
 sides, covered with heather, had great dark 
 patches on them, but the rounded peaks were 
 still in bright sunlight. 
 
 It need not be thought that John was unap- 
 preciative, because he was busily talking to the 
 coach-driver all the way. He felt that he could 
 not afford to miss anything they were passing, 
 and now and then he turned to interrupt the 
 reveries of the others in order to give them 
 some word of information. It was usually in 
 reference to the happenings in '^ The Lady of 
 the Lake," of course. 
 
 Here, the driver told him, was Lanrick Mead, 
 the place of meeting of the Clan Alpine when- 
 ever the fiery cross was being carried from one 
 clan to another as a signal of war. Here was 
 Coilantogle Ford where Fitzjames fought with 
 Roderick Dhu; here they crossed the pictur- 
 esque Brig o ' Turk and followed the road along 
 beside Loch Achray. 
 
248 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 By the time they had reached the hotel, and 
 a porter, lifting the ladder, had helped the 
 ladies to descend from the coach, John's friend, 
 the driver, had become most confidential. He 
 had decided not to go to America, he was say- 
 ing. He supposed he could make more money 
 there, '^ but here we like to get into our slippers 
 and be comfortable,'' said he. Overhearing 
 this remark, Mrs. Pitt reflected how very much 
 better it would be if only more of the Scotch 
 would be satisfied with what they have and earn 
 at home, and not go over to America to find 
 their eyes rudely opened to the fact that there 
 one must work even harder for one's living. 
 
 The following morning they left their lug- 
 gage to be brought on by the coach, while they 
 walked through the charming woodland pass 
 known as the Trossachs, or ^' bristling coun- 
 try." There are bare hills and hills covered 
 with purple heather and overhung by great gray 
 rocks; wild flowers are everywhere, and deep, 
 dense, fragrant woods. It is a fairyland of 
 rainbows, of sun, and of shadow. It was very 
 pleasant to walk here as slowly as one might 
 wish. At the little pier on dainty Loch Katrine, 
 a steamer waited, but as it would not start for 
 an hour, John decided to row his sister out 
 to Ellen's Isle, no great distance from the 
 shore. 
 
 ** We want to climb all over it," said Betty. 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 249 
 
 ** Perhaps we can see where they lived, Ellen 
 and her father and all the rest.'* 
 
 They rented a boat, scorning the offer of a 
 boatman who desired to do the rowing for 
 them. Betty took her place in the stern, her 
 brother picked up his oars, and they were off. 
 Their trip was not a very successful one, how- 
 ever. Heavy mists hung over mighty Ben 
 Venue, although brilliant sunshine prevailed 
 on the peaks opposite; every now and again a 
 heavy shower fell upon them, and a brisk little 
 breeze was blowing. Betty cheerfully put up 
 her umbrella, not desiring to have her hat 
 ruined. As they drew a bit nearer the little 
 green island, Betty was reading from her plaid- 
 covered copy of ^^ The Lady of the Lake.'' 
 
 " When lo ! forth starting at the sound, 
 From underneath an aged oak, 
 That slanted from the islet rock, 
 A damsel guider of its way, 
 A little skiff shot to the bay," 
 
 '* I like the part where Malcolm Graeme 
 comes in," she was saying, when she heard an 
 exclamation from John, and noticed that their 
 ' ^ skiff ' ' was not ' ^ shooting to the bay ' ' at all. 
 
 ''I'd like to know how you expect me to row 
 with these crazy oars and that umbrella of 
 yours up ! Say, Betty, put it down, or I'll turn 
 back ! How can I row with that umbrella catch- 
 
250 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 ing tlie wind and holding us back all tlie time ? ' ' 
 Tlie wind seemed to be rising, and as Betty 
 persisted in refusing to get herself wet, he did 
 turn back, and grumbling much, finally brought 
 up alongside the pier, just as the steamer was 
 about to start. With a comfortable awning 
 over them as a protection from the rain, they 
 surveyed the little island, now covered with 
 trees and much tangled underbrush, which once 
 served as a home for the Douglas and his 
 daughter, Ellen. 
 
 The showers were soon over and they were 
 sorry when the boat-ride ended at Stronach- 
 lacher, where they took places on the coach to 
 make the trip across to Loch Lomond. The 
 country between the two lochs is associated 
 with Eob Koy, whose wife, Helen Macgregor, 
 lived in Inversnaid. 
 
 '' Rob Roy belonged to the Clan Macgregor, 
 too, ' ' said Mrs. Pitt, ^ ' but he called himself a 
 Campbell, and for this reason: the Clan Mac- 
 gregor met with more terrible persecution than 
 any other clan, even their territory being added 
 to that of the Campbells. It was merely for 
 protection that Rob Roy called himself a mem- 
 ber of his enemies' clan. He was not always a 
 wild outlaw, you know, but a cattle-dealer, liv- 
 ing a peaceful life for many years. He would 
 collect his cattle from the sides of these moun- 
 tains (there are only a few sheep here now) 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 251 
 
 and drive them to market in England or in the 
 Lowlands. He was at one time associated with 
 the Duke of Montrose in a cattle speculation 
 which was a failure ; not only did Rob Roy lose 
 all he had, but the Duke tried to make him pay 
 more than his share. When Rob Roy refused to 
 do this, the Duke advertised him as a thief and 
 a swindler, so he was obliged to flee to the moun- 
 tains. Gradually there gathered about him 
 many who had wrongs to avenge, and together 
 these men got their living in any way they 
 could, principally by ' lifting ' other people's 
 cattle. They often took from the rich to supply 
 the poor. You see, it was Robin Hood all over 
 again ! All the rest of his life Rob Roy spent 
 in this way, annoying the Duke when he possibly 
 could and always outwitting him. The Duke 
 built a fort here at Inversnaid and Rob Roy 
 carried away every gun in it. It is said that 
 he, at length, asked to be allowed to return to 
 a peaceable life, but this request was refused 
 and Rob Roy died an outcast. He is buried not 
 far from here, at Balquhidder, and a broad- 
 sword is all that is carved on his tomb ! ' ' 
 
 They had time for a visit to the pretty water- 
 fall at Inversnaid and for a hurried tea at the 
 hotel; then the boat started for the long after- 
 noon's sail on Loch Lomond. Here the moun- 
 tains are not as rugged as near Loch Katrine 
 but the coloring and the lights and shadows are 
 
252 JOHN AND BETTY 
 
 as lovely. Many hotels and the summer homes 
 of Glasgow people are along the lake shore, and, 
 in the foreground, there is always the strange, 
 transparent green of the water. 
 
 ** There were many * good people ' about 
 here,'' remarked Mrs. Pitt, when some one had 
 spoken about the tint of the water. '^ They 
 acted for years as dyers to the clans of Loch 
 Lomond. It was only necessary to leave cloth, 
 wool, or thread near the loch, with a sample of 
 the desired shade, to have the dyeing care- 
 fully done. But the tale is that some one once 
 asked jokingly to have the fleece of a black 
 sheep dyed white. Offended at this, the fairies 
 poured all their dye-stuff into the mountain 
 brook which flows into the loch, and ever since 
 that its waters have been of this beautiful 
 shade. ' ' 
 
 As the afternoon wore on, they wearied of 
 scenery. Mrs. Pitt sat dreamily gazing off 
 across the water to the lavender-tinted moun- 
 tains; John spent much time in taking the 
 photograph of two little Scotch travelers in 
 Highland kilts; Barbara and Philip discussed 
 some subject of great moment, while Betty 
 turned her attention to her long-neglected diary. 
 There was a change from the boat to a train 
 at Balloch pier; then a short ride transported 
 them from the region of lakes and mountains 
 to busy, smoky Glasgow. 
 
H W 
 
 S M 
 
 M "^ 
 
 Si! 
 
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN 
 
 * * I SAY ! We Ve a jolly view from here ! ' ' 
 
 The presence of Mrs. Pittas cousin, an im- 
 portant member of the Clyde Navigation Trust, 
 which has control of the entire river, had, in- 
 deed, worked a miracle. No sooner had the 
 steamer left her dock than its captain, all po- 
 liteness, had placed chairs for the whole party 
 on his little private platform, where an nnder 
 officer was standing at the wheel. From this 
 point they could look over the heads of the 
 other passengers, and get a splendid view of 
 the busy scenes on both banks of the famous 
 River Clyde. 
 
 *' Near the pier we have just left,'' Mr. Gor- 
 don was telling them, ^ * there is a district known 
 by the curious name of ^ Broomielaw.' From 
 there was launched in 1847 the first iron vessel, 
 the Henry Bell! It is said that crowds of peo- 
 ple gathered near by, confidently expecting to 
 see the heavy boat sink. That seems extraor- 
 dinary to us, now, doesn't it? " 
 
 Glasgow Harbor, as it now exists, has been 
 253 
 
254 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 made by the patient deepening and widening of 
 the Clyde ; the work is still in progress, for two 
 great dredging-machines are yet in constant 
 operation. Glasgow has spent about nine mil- 
 lions sterling upon its harbor. The river banks 
 once knew Eoman stations, stately country seats 
 of Glasgow bishops, and capital salmon fish- 
 eries ; but, one by one, they have disappeared, 
 giving place to the deafening clang of hammer 
 and steel, the great black stagings, and the giant 
 forms of all manner of vessels in the making. 
 Here are some of the most celebrated ship- 
 building yards in the world. 
 
 As their boat steamed along, they saw cargo 
 steamers, ocean steamers, cruisers, torpedo 
 boats, all sorts of river and coasting craft, some 
 even intended for use in Eastern and South 
 African waters. There were ships in all stages 
 of construction, from the mere keel of what will 
 be the largest vessel afloat, a new Cunarder, to 
 the launched battleship very recently given by 
 Australia to the Imperial Government. 
 
 " Just look at her, will you I ^' cried John 
 excitedly. '' She's black with men! They're 
 just thick all over her ! ' ' 
 
 ^ ^ There are two thousand men working now 
 aboard her," answered Mr. Gordon, whose en- 
 thusiasm was second only to John's. ^^ The 
 Premier and a number of Australian officials 
 were present at the launching a few weeks ago. 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 255 
 
 She'll not be finished for from nine to twelve 
 months, however." 
 
 ^^ Wish you could have taken us into a yard 
 so we could have seen things working! " John 
 exclaimed, after a while. '^ That would have 
 been bully! " 
 
 ^* I could have done that, certainly, but Mrs. 
 Pitt and I decided you would really understand 
 it all better by being on board this boat sailing 
 between the docks. You wouldn't have under- 
 stood much that you saw at one of the yards, 
 and it's impossible to explain, because one can't 
 make oneself heard. You hear what the noise 
 is even where we are now. To build a ship, 
 John, they first put up an elaborate staging, like 
 that you saw ready for the new Cunarder ; then 
 the materials are all brought together. The 
 iron ore comes from Spain, and most companies 
 have their own smelting-works, where it is made 
 into the plates which are used. Did you know 
 that the lower parts of warships have a curious 
 double construction these days? There is an 
 inner concave surface over which the outer hold 
 is constructed to prevent sinking when the ships 
 are in service." 
 
 While John was nodding his head wisely in 
 response to all these explanations, Betty, who 
 had given up any attempt to understand them, 
 pointed to a huge iron crane with uneven arms. 
 
 '' What's that? " she inquired. 
 
256 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 '' That is one of the largest cranes in the 
 world,'' said their host. '' It can lift four hun- 
 dred tons, one arm one hundred and fifty tons, 
 and the other two hundred and fifty! The 
 arms are movable, of course, and they are in- 
 tended principally to lift great boilers. ' ' 
 
 Somewhat farther down the river, where 
 green fields were beginning to replace the great 
 shipyards, they overtook an ocean steamer just 
 leaving port. 
 
 ** See the funny people in turbans," said 
 Betty, pointing to some men on deck, and one 
 who was thrusting his head from out a porthole. 
 ** They look like the Eastern princes at the 
 Coronation! " 
 
 Mrs. Pitt explained that this ship was just 
 starting for the Orient with a native crew. 
 '* It's a P. & 0. boat, isn't it! " she asked of 
 Mr. Gordon. 
 
 ** Ay, that's a P. & 0. on her way to Liv- 
 erpool to pick up her passengers. All except 
 her officers are natives; a whole Indian crew, 
 you know. Those P. & 0. boats are built here 
 on the Clyde, too. Ay, it's a good line." 
 
 They also saw a ship just sailing for Boston. 
 For a moment, Betty looked at it a bit longingly, 
 thinking of Father and Mother, but she soon re- 
 flected that she really was not yet ready to start 
 for home. It was not long, either, before she 
 espied the great rock of Dumbarton Castle, and 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 257 
 
 at tliat moment America no longer existed for 
 her. 
 
 ** To think there should be three castle rocks 
 so much alike," said she, as the cleft rock, rising 
 live hundred and sixty feet from the river, drew 
 nearer and nearer, — * ^ Stirling, Edinburgh, and 
 now Dumbarton ! ' ' 
 
 ' * It 's a corking position, ' ' said John enthusi- 
 astically. ^^ Is it still a fort, Mrs. Pitt? " 
 
 ' ^ Yes, John, it is still a fortress, but even its 
 situation would count for very little in a mod- 
 ern war. The guns are old, the fortifications 
 weak, and the buildings far too small. The 
 most interesting thing about Dumbarton is its 
 brilliant past, of course. Ossian, — ^you remem- 
 ber him, John? — called the rock ^ Balclutha,'and 
 said of it, * The thistle shakes there its lovely 
 head.' I believe that genuine Scotch thistles 
 do still grow on the higher part of the rock, 
 which is called Wallace's Seat. The Eomans 
 had a fortress here, which they named Dun- 
 briton, or ^ the Briton's Eock.' Robert Bruce 
 once took this castle by strategy; the little 
 squadron, which was sent out against England 
 after the defeat at Flodden Field, sailed from 
 under the shelter of Dumbarton Rock; Mary 
 Stuart lived here for about two years before 
 she left for France, and this was her goal after 
 her escape from Lochleven Castle. Oh, with 
 innumerable historical events is Dumbarton as- 
 
258 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 sociatedy but I like it best for its connection 
 with William Wallace." 
 
 ** He was almost as great a fellow as the 
 Bruce, wasn't he! '' inquired John. 
 
 '* He was, and even a greater fellow, in my 
 poor opinion. A wonderful man was Wallace, 
 a powerful leader and organizer. So far as is 
 known, William Wallace was the first and the 
 last of his family to win fame. He was edu- 
 cated by an uncle who lived at Riccarton in 
 Ayrshire. You'll hear of Wallace when we go 
 to Ayr, also. In 1297, Wallace's wife was 
 brutally killed at Lanark when the English were 
 in power there, and it was this that aroused the 
 hero to take the lead against the English in- 
 vaders. In four months' time he had forty 
 thousand footmen and one hundred and eighty 
 mounted men, and, at their head, he defeated a 
 much larger English army at Stirling. Wal- 
 lace's fame grew until he was known as the 
 Guardian of Scotland, but he loyally did all in 
 the name of King John Baliol, deposed as that 
 weak monarch was. At the time of Wallace's 
 great victory at Stirling, Edward I of England 
 was away ; but when, on his return, he advanced 
 with an army of seven thousand men-at-arms, 
 Wallace suffered a terrible defeat, not far from 
 Stirling. 
 
 ^' After this, Wallace disappeared as sud- 
 denly as he had come to the aid of his country. 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 259 
 
 No one knows just where he went, perhaps 
 abroad, perhaps to the depths of the Highlands ; 
 but, after a time, an enemy betrayed him, he was 
 imprisoned at Dumbarton, and from here taken 
 to London. He was beheaded at Smithfield. 
 You remember Smithfield, Betty 1 ' ' 
 
 By this time they had, of course, passed Dum- 
 barton Rock, and were approaching Greenock, 
 from which town, on the Firth of Clyde, they 
 took a train back to Glasgow. Leaving kind 
 Mr. Gordon at the station, they set out in a 
 tram to visit the cathedral. 
 
 ^^ This place looks as if you wouldn^t find 
 any old history in it," chuckled John, looking 
 out at the large squares, fme hotels, public build- 
 ings, and shops of the second largest city in 
 Great Britain. ^* Betty can't drag us back five 
 or six centuries to-day! '^ 
 
 ^^ Can't I, though? That shows how much 
 you know about it, John, and I'll do my worst 
 just to punish you for not knowing any better. 
 Hasn't Glasgow a university founded in 1450, 
 and a cathedral which was begun in the twelfth 
 century ? It stands, too, upon the place where 
 old St. Mungo had a cell so long ago that St. 
 Columba was a friend of his, and used to come 
 from lona to see him. I can't think of the dates 
 now, but it's true, isn't it, Mrs. Pitt? And I'll 
 just tell you, John, that the Romans were here, 
 too." 
 
26o JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 ^ ^ Bother the Eomans ! Wish to goodness 
 they'd stayed in Rome, where they belonged! " 
 
 '^ I'm afraid you'll have to believe Betty, 
 John, for it's all true," said Mrs. Pitt, as they 
 left the tram and ascended the High Street 
 toward the cathedral. 
 
 ^^ Betty didn't know, either, that a famous 
 scene in ^ Rob Roy ' took place just behind us, 
 near the old Tolbooth; or that Queen Mary's 
 last battle of Langside was fought and lost not 
 far from Glasgow ; and that James VI and 
 Cromwell lodged in the Saltmarket. The his- 
 tory is here, John, but there's little in Glas- 
 gow's streets to recall it, so your mind may be 
 almost at rest, I think." 
 
 On a Saturday afternoon it is a none too 
 agreeable thing to walk the poorer streets of 
 Glasgow, in the vicinity of the cathedral. If it 
 happens also to be payroll day, the drunkenness 
 of both men and women is a sight to strike ter- 
 ror to a much stouter heart than Betty's. She, 
 Mrs. Pitt, and Barbara were very much relieved 
 to escape to a teashop of fashionable Sauchie- 
 hall Street, after their visit to Glasgow's fine 
 cathedral. 
 
 The following day was an unusually bright 
 and beautiful one for gloomy Glasgow. After 
 luncheon, they took a tram and rode until they 
 reached a lovely residential section of Glasgow, 
 in which are situated the University, the Art 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 261 
 
 Galleries, and spacious Kelvingrove Park. 
 Within this park the Glasgow Exhibition was 
 then being held. Having been formally opened 
 on the third of May by H.R.H., the Duke of 
 Connaught, the Exhibition presented an ad- 
 mirable attempt to ^' preserve the Scottish 
 National spirit/' as was the wish of its 
 founders. 
 
 ^^ In comparison with some of the Exhibitions 
 you have had in America, this is very unpre- 
 tentious, I admit.'' They had bought tickets, 
 and were entering the grounds as Mrs. Pitt 
 spoke. ** But there's one thing which I am 
 sure you will agree with me is worth coming 
 far to see, ' ' she went on. ^ ' That is the Palace 
 of History. There will probably never be an- 
 other chance to see so many objects of inestima- 
 ble value and interest together under one roof. 
 These have been sent from all over the country, 
 from museums and from private collections 
 everywhere, and the great wonder to me is that 
 the authorities dared to take such a responsi- 
 bility. But you'll soon see for yourself." 
 
 On their way to the large central court, sur- 
 rounded by its many white buildings, they went 
 through a clever reproduction of a medieval 
 Scotch town, with its gabled houses, town cross, 
 old castle tower, and tiny shops. A Highland 
 clachan or hamlet was complete, with its smithy, 
 its schools for lace-making, and for the manu- 
 
262 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 facture of bagpipes and of baskets. On a 
 bench, near a little burn, a man in a kilt was 
 taking a lesson on the bagpipes, which here 
 sounded quite as weird as when they had heard 
 them amid real Highland surroundings. There 
 was a '^ black hut," or type of oldtime crofter's 
 cottage, with a roof made all of heather held 
 down by stones, except at the flat edge where 
 there was a little straw. Inside were two 
 rooms, one of which had a peat fire on a raised 
 place in the center of the floor. They were glad 
 to escape from the choking atmosphere, but an 
 old woman in a stiff white cap did not seem 
 to mind it in the least. 
 
 ^ * See ! ' ' said Betty, * * here 's a modern im- 
 proved hut with spandy clean whitewash and 
 the neatest thatched roof I ever saw. They're 
 very nice," she added, with a superior air of 
 one who had traveled widely, ''' except when 
 you've seen the real ones up north." 
 
 Following the little stream, they came to a 
 place where was floating the most curious pro- 
 cession of tiny model ships. 
 
 * ' Will you look ! ' ' cried John, running on 
 ahead. ^^ There's every kind of a ship that 
 ever was, from Columbus's great clumsy junk, 
 to the Lusitania. They're bully! Wait a sec- 
 ond until I can look them over ! ' ' 
 
 Outside the Palace of History a crowd had 
 gathered, they found, and, upon inquiry, Mrs. 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 263 
 
 Pitt was told that the doors were just 
 then closed because the Crown Prince and 
 Princess of Sweden were looking at the 
 exhibits. 
 
 ^ ^ Fancy that ! ' ' exclaimed Barbara. ' ' Do 
 let's wait here, Mother, and see them come out. 
 She's a daughter of the Duke of Connaught, 
 isn't she! " 
 
 ^' Oh, is she? Then I want to see her, too ! " 
 This came from Betty, who had been the Duke's 
 great admirer ever since the pretty review at 
 St. James's Palace. 
 
 It was disappointing to be able to see only the 
 tops of the silk hats worn by the Crown Prince 
 and his escorts, and a large hat with a simple 
 flower trimming; but the crowd hopelessly shut 
 off their view, and soberly they turned away to 
 enter the neighboring building, now thrown 
 open to the waiting public. 
 
 Mrs. Pitt had not exaggerated the wonderful 
 things that they found inside. To see and en- 
 joy them all one would have needed to come 
 many times. Barbara revelled in the collection 
 of antique furniture, particularly the old chairs 
 carved with initials or dates or strange pat- 
 terns. Philip spent the entire afternoon por- 
 ing over the exquisite bookplates. John, lack- 
 ing devotion to any special line, first examined 
 the curious old Ballantyne Press on which 
 ^' Waverley " was printed; then marveled at 
 
264 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 the illegibility of some of Scott's and Burns 's 
 manuscripts; now he had discovered some an- 
 cient iron relics of the battle of Bannockburn; 
 now an attendant had called his attention to the 
 original Brooch of Lome, which the Bruce lost 
 from his plaid in 1306. 
 
 As for Mrs. Pitt and Betty, who always en- 
 joyed the same things, they walked about arm 
 in arm, seldom speaking except to call atten- 
 tion to some new treasure. No sooner had Mrs. 
 Pitt discovered a lovely brooch made of red, 
 green, and white enamel in the shape of a rose, 
 which had had its place in Mary Queen of Scots' 
 jewel case, than Betty saw a wonderful little 
 portrait of that Queen when a child. Silently 
 she went toward it, and, as she stood there, 
 more and more of a spell did the portrait cast 
 over her. 
 
 *^ Isn't it beautiful? " she whispered. ** Mary 
 was only four years old when it was painted. 
 Just think! You can look right into her big, 
 round blue eyes, though, and somehow you un- 
 derstand Mary better. Did you ever see such 
 big eyes, such round and blue ones! I believe 
 Mary knew about her life; she looks as if she 
 did, anyhow. I think that she knew that she 
 was going to be very beautiful, and that every- 
 body was going to fall in love with her, and go 
 right on spoiling her, until she began to do 
 things that she oughtn't to have done. There 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 265 
 
 was that dreadfully wicked mother-in-law in 
 France, too. What was her name! Don't you 
 think it was dreadful that little Queen Mary 
 should have known it all so long ahead? Don't 
 you pity her, too, Mrs. Pitt? '' 
 
 And, as she stood and studied the portrait, 
 Mrs. Pitt did pity Mary Stuart more than she 
 ever had before. It was some minutes before 
 they could pass the picture by. 
 
 Then they found Annie Laurie's will, and the 
 original manuscript of '' Kenilworth," and the 
 charter granted by King David I for the found- 
 ing of Melrose Abbey, and the ^^ Whistle 0' 
 Worth." 
 
 At last they halted before the National 
 Covenant, fortunately coming up just as an at- 
 tendant was uncovering it, which he did only 
 once an hour. 
 
 * * Not a copy, but the real one ! ' ' Betty kept 
 saying to herself, — ^' the real one that they 
 signed in Greyfriars Churchyard. Some of 
 them wrote their names in blood. ' ' 
 
 ^* Yes," said John, ** I think maybe that's 
 true. Some of these names still look red. ' ' He 
 had stepped to the other side of the glass-case, 
 which showed the back of the faded old docu- 
 ment, covered by a mass of signatures, a few of 
 which are still legible. 
 
 ' ' Come here a minute. There 's something I 
 want to show you in the next room. ' ' 
 
266 JOHN AND BETTY 
 
 But Betty shook her head. ^' You'll have to 
 excuse me, Barbara; I simply can't take in an- 
 other thing," she said wearily. And all the 
 way home in the tram she sat brooding over the 
 wonderful things in that Palace of History. 
 
CHAPTEE EIGHTEEN 
 
 IN THE BURNS COUNTRY 
 
 ** Whatever is that! It sounds like sing- 
 ing! '' 
 
 Barbara stood still and listened. It certainly 
 was mnsic wtiicli floated down ttie hillside to 
 where Mrs. Pitt and the others were wandering, 
 close to the river Doon. 
 
 High above the river bank, with its all too 
 modern tea gardens, crowded on that Saturday 
 with tourists and holiday makers, stands the 
 Burns Monument; soon discovering that the 
 music came from that direction, Mrs. Pitt led 
 the way up the steep path. 
 
 They found it impossible to go inside the lit- 
 tle memorial building, for the room was 
 thronged. Men and women were gathered 
 about the statue of Burns, singing with deepest 
 feeling, ^* Ye Banks and Braes o' Bonnie 
 Doon.'' It was a most unexpected scene. Here 
 were people of the working-class, — women pale 
 and bent by toil, men with hard, seamed faces — 
 all of whom had forgotten their burdens, and 
 were putting their whole souls into this tribute 
 
 267 
 
268 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 to the beloved poet. Heads were uncovered, 
 faces turned upwards in joy, or bowed to hide 
 quick tears ; no one thought of ridicule, no one 
 failed to join in the chorus. The verses fin- 
 ished, caps were tossed high, and three rousing 
 cheers given for ' * Rabbie ' ' Burns ; then the 
 people went back to their picnic parties by the 
 river. 
 
 Mrs. Pitt was openly wiping away her tears, 
 Betty was in the midst of a frantic search for 
 her handkerchief, and even John's voice was a 
 bit husky as he said abruptly, ^^ Come on back 
 tothe AuldBrig." 
 
 ** This is where the witches caught hold of 
 Tam's horse's tail, isn't iti " Betty's eyes 
 were dancing once more as she remembered the 
 poem which she had re-read only the evening 
 before. 
 
 *^ The witches had stopped dancing in the 
 auld kirk, you know; their lights all went out 
 suddenly, and they started to chase poor Tarn, 
 who was riding his horse, Meg. Tam was trying 
 to reach the middle of this high old bridge, — 
 just where I'm standing this very moment. He 
 thought that no witches could cross running 
 water, you know. I love the way the poem tells 
 it, though! '^ and Betty quoted: 
 
 ** 'And in an instant all was dark; 
 
 And scarcely had he Maggie rallied. 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 269 
 
 When out the hellish legion sallied. 
 
 As bees bizz out wi' angry fyke, 
 
 When plundering herds assail their byke; 
 
 As open pussie's mortal foes, 
 
 When, pop! she starts before their nose; 
 
 As eager runs the market-crowd, 
 
 When " Catch the thief! " resounds aloud; 
 
 So Maggie runs, the witches follow, 
 
 Wi' mony an eldritch skriech and hollow. 
 
 Ah, Tarn! ah, Tam! thou'U get thy fairin! 
 
 In hell they'll roast thee like a herrin! 
 
 In vain thy Kate awaits thy 
 
 Kate soon will be a woefu' woman! 
 
 Now, do thy speedy utmost, Meg, 
 
 And win the key-stane o' the brig; 
 
 There, at them thou thy tail may toss, 
 
 A running stream they darena cross. 
 
 But ere the key-stane she could make, 
 
 The fient a tail she had to shake! 
 
 For Nannie, far before the rest. 
 
 Hard upon noble Maggie prest. 
 
 And flew at Tam wi' furious ettle; 
 
 But little wist she Maggie's mettle! 
 
 Ae spring brought off her master hale, 
 
 But left behind her ain gray tail : 
 
 The carlin claught her by the rump. 
 
 And left poor Maggie scarce a stump.'" 
 
 They loitered some time on the big new 
 bridge, from which is a charming view of the old 
 bridge, its high arch spanning one of the pret- 
 tiest, clearest streams imaginable, flowing be- 
 tween banks of ferns and wild flowers. John, 
 as usual, was trying for a photograph, and, the 
 
270 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 day being somewhat cloudy, the sun came out 
 but once in a while. Not for some minutes did 
 it touch the ^^ auld brig/' but John stood pa- 
 tiently waiting, camera focused and bulb in 
 hand. Finally, during a bright ray of sunshine, 
 the shutter clicked; then, with a grunt of satis- 
 faction, John told them, '' That picture '11 be a 
 corker, all right ! ' ' 
 
 The haunted ruin of old Alloway Kirk stands 
 only at a stone's throw from the river; the 
 walls alone remain of this famous scene of the 
 witches' revels. 
 
 ^^ It was unroofed and fast going to decay, 
 even in Burns 's time, ' ' Mrs. Pitt told them. 
 
 *^ They say, don't they, that in storms the 
 witches even nowadays dance in the kirk while 
 Tam rides by ! " 
 
 ^^ Honestly, it isn't so very hard to imagine 
 witches in there! " and Betty shuddered a bit. 
 
 * * No, I should say not ! What Tam ought to 
 have done was to have ridden for his life when 
 he saw the red lights and those fellows dancing. 
 I'd have hustled my horse back to the town, in- 
 stead of staying to watch 'em. Tam was a 
 fool!" 
 
 Here was some proof of the genuine horror 
 of Tam's situation, if even John confessed that 
 his courage would have failed him under sim- 
 ilar circumstances. He was not afraid of most 
 things, but he would take no chances whatever 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 271 
 
 with witches, if he were riding a horse with a 
 long tail ! 
 
 In the tiny, neglected graveyard lie Burns 's 
 father and mother. An old man with a wooden 
 leg and a marvelous plaid necktie pointed out 
 these graves, and recited " Tam o' Shanter " 
 with remarkable expression and gesture. They 
 had much trouble in escaping from him to fol- 
 low the main road to Burns 's birthplace. 
 
 Quaint and old-fashioned in its whitewash 
 and thatch, this typical Scotch ' ' clay bigging ' ' 
 now stands on the main street of Ayr, along 
 which trams and motor cars persistently 
 thunder. Entering by a wicket at one end of 
 the house, where he duly pays his twopence, the 
 visitor comes upon a distressingly formal and 
 geometrical flower garden ; on the right is a low 
 building, serving as a museum, where are ex- 
 hibited many manuscripts and relics of Burns. 
 Having examined these, they crossed the yard 
 and went into the cottage itself, passing first 
 through the byre and the stable, in which some 
 rude stalls still remain. 
 
 '^ They lived rather near the cows and 
 horses, didn't they? '^ remarked Barbara, as 
 she stepped across the threshold into the 
 '' room.'' 
 
 Beyond the stiff ^* room " is a tiny entry, 
 from which opens the kitchen, the principal liv- 
 ing-room, in which the poet was born. 
 
272 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 This probably looks very much as it did in 
 that winter of 1759 when a violent storm is said 
 to have torn away the roof of the hut, and 
 forced the mother to seek shelter elsewhere for 
 herself and her baby. There is still a cur- 
 tained box-bed, a little whitewashed fireplace, 
 some old chairs and tables, a tall corner clock, 
 and a rack well stocked with blue china. 
 
 While they waited for the tram, Mrs. Pitt 
 told them a little about Eobert Burns. 
 
 * * His father, you know, was a gardener, ' ' she 
 began, ^^ and worked on a gentleman's estate; 
 the family left here when Eobert was but seven 
 years old, moving to a cottage on his employer 's 
 land. They seem always to have been un- 
 fortunate, and their small savings dwindled 
 away. They moved to another farm at Tar- 
 bolton, and, not long after this, the father died, 
 so that Eobert, the eldest of the seven children, 
 became responsible for the care of the family 
 and the running of the farm. He always found 
 time for writing poems, though, poems of the 
 humble life with which he came in contact ; and 
 about this time the poems were published in 
 book form. This Kilmarnock edition, of which 
 Burns himself paid all the expenses, was so 
 successful that a famous Edinburgh publisher 
 was soon found. His work continuing to be in 
 demand. Burns felt himself in better circum- 
 stances, and even lent a sum of money to one 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 273 
 
 of his brothers. With his wife and children he 
 moved to Ellisland Farm, where he spent his 
 happiest days. ^ Tam o ' Shanter ' was written 
 during this time. I shall take you to Ellisland, 
 I think. But Burns 's money was soon ex- 
 hausted, and he was obliged to move his fam- 
 ily into the town of Dumfries, where he held the 
 position of government exciseman at a salary 
 of seventy pounds a year. It was at Dumfries 
 that he died, as youVe read. Wasn't it a com- 
 monplace life for a poet 1 ' ' 
 
 '' Why, it's as bad as Stratford, isn't it? " 
 cried John, when the tram had carried them 
 back to Ayr, about two miles away. ^^ Every 
 single thing is called Tam o ' Shanter, or Souter 
 John, or Burns. There's a window full of 
 postals of all of 'em; here's a sign telling you 
 you must drink ' Souter John Tea ' ; and down 
 there's an inn with Tam over the doorway." 
 
 *^ Yes, it even claims to be the very inn at 
 which Tam was drinking on that eventful night 
 in his career. They'll show you the chair and 
 the cup that he used. Fancy ! ' ' Mrs. Pitt was 
 leading the way towards the river, where they 
 saw the ^* Twa Brigs o' Ayr." 
 
 Burns has written a delightful poem about 
 these old bridges; in his time the new bridge 
 had just been finished, and stood beside its rival, 
 which dates from the fifteenth century. In 
 Burns 's opinion the new structure possessed 
 
274 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 such undue pride that it one day remarked to 
 its comrade : 
 
 " Will your poor, narrow foot-path of a street, 
 Where twa wheel-barrows tremble when they meet, 
 Your ruin'd, formless bulk o' stane and lime, 
 Compare wi' bonnie brigs o' modern time ? " 
 
 But the auld brig, sure of its ground, an- 
 swered promptly : 
 
 "I'll be a brig when ye're a shapeless cairn! 
 As yet ye little ken about the matter, 
 But twa-three winters will inform ye better. " 
 
 '' And the auld brig's prophecy was a true 
 one," added Mrs. Pitt, '' for the new bridge was 
 long ago rebuilt, while the old one still stands 
 in its accustomed place.'' 
 
 Soon after this, however, they discovered that 
 Burns 's name is not the only celebrated one con- 
 nected with Ayr; William Wallace had been 
 there, too. The great square Wallace Tower 
 occupies the site of an old Tolbooth, in which 
 the hero was once imprisoned. 
 
 ' ^ Wallace had been outlawed, you remember, 
 because he had killed three English soldiers who 
 were attempting to carry away some trout from 
 his basket. Although it was dangerous, Wal- 
 lace stayed not far from Ayr, and frequently 
 came into the town on market days. They held 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 275 
 
 their markets in that wide square by the sta- 
 tion. Betty, an old historian tells us that Wal- 
 lace used to delight in finding a strong man (an 
 Englishman, of course) who was boasting of his 
 prowess, and against whom he could try his own 
 marvelous strength. Occasionally Wallace 
 killed a man, and then he had to fight his way 
 out of the to\vn. At length Percy sent eighty 
 men from the castle to preserve the peace, and 
 they one day caught Wallace and conducted him 
 to the old Tolbooth, where he was fed upon 
 * barrell heryng and watter.' '* 
 
 " Hard luck for him when he'd been catch- 
 ing trout ! ' ' put in John sympathetically. 
 
 '' Oh, but it was hard to put down Wallace," 
 continued Mrs. Pitt. ' ' When his strength was 
 gone, they thought him dead, and threw him 
 over the Tolbooth wall ; but an old nurse of his 
 found him, and got him away to Newton-on-Ayr, 
 where she soon nursed him back to good 
 health.'' 
 
 That afternoon they hired a motor car and 
 went south to the ancient town of Maybole, now 
 a place of glorious memory only. Once the town 
 residences of the lairds of Carrick lined its 
 streets where, even to-day, one sometimes finds 
 interesting houses; there is a square clock 
 tower, and a portion of Maybole Castle, with its 
 quaint windows and carvings. This old build- 
 ing is now the Estate Office for the Marquis of 
 
276 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 Ailsa, and Mrs. Pitt went in to inquire for a 
 permit to see Culzean Castle. 
 
 "• Luckily we are here on the one day when 
 visitors are admitted, ^ ' she said, when she came 
 out again. ^ ' John, tell the chauffeur we '11 start 
 on now, and that we want to stop a moment at 
 Crossraguel Abbey and at Kirkoswald." 
 
 The abbey dates from the thirteenth century, 
 but is not particularly noteworthy, except for 
 one unusual feature, a square, battlemented 
 tower. They were more interested in the little 
 ruined kirk at Kirkoswald and its tiny burying- 
 ground, in which they soon found the graves of 
 Tam o' Shanter and Souter John, the shoe- 
 maker and Tam's friend. 
 
 ^^ But why does it say Douglas Graham! " 
 inquired Barbara innocently. It had never oc- 
 curred to her that Tam had any other name. 
 
 They had a delightful ramble through the 
 beautiful grounds of stately Culzean Castle. 
 Barbara in particular was all the time in rap- 
 tures over the many varieties of roses, the vines 
 and trees wonderfully trained against old brick 
 walls, and the hothouses, in which they saw 
 splendid grapes and figs. On and on they went 
 from one inclosed garden to another. It would 
 seem as if they must have come to an end, but 
 there was always a picturesque iron gate or 
 wicket through which one was lured by glimpses 
 of more smooth lawns and gay flower-beds. 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 277 
 
 They sat for some time in a little round rock 
 garden with a trellis and a tiny pool in the 
 center. No one molested them; they were un- 
 believably free to go wherever their fancy led. 
 
 ^* My! " cried John, all at once, " that 
 Marquis, or whoever you call him, must be 
 mighty easy! We could walk off with whole 
 slews of his flowers and pick heaps of his 
 grapes, if we liked. I haven't seen but one or 
 two gardeners, and they're 'way back near the 
 house. ' ' 
 
 Culzean Castle is built high on the rocks above 
 the water, and underneath are great caves, — 
 caves of which Burns has written. Mrs. Pitt 
 declined to explore these passages, or to allow 
 the others to do so, when she heard that they 
 were infested with rats. 
 
 *^ One of the caves is called ^ The Piper's,' " 
 said she, " and some think that it extends un- 
 derground as far as Maybole, six miles away. 
 In olden times the fairies lived there, and when 
 mortals entered, they were never again heard 
 from. A daring man once ventured in with his 
 bagpipes; he was traced for some distance by 
 the sound of his music, but he never came out 
 again into the daylight." 
 
 *^ Can I play golf to-night? " inquired John, 
 when he heard that Turnberry Point had 
 famous links. And he did actually play 
 one game before having dinner at the elegant 
 
278 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 new Station Hotel, to which they had come to 
 spend that Sunday. Apart from the links, a 
 fragment of a castle upon a rocky headland, 
 and this huge new hotel, there is nothing at 
 Turnberry except a magnificent ocean view, 
 with the steep, rocky island of Ailsa Craig in 
 the foreground. 
 
 The following morning they set out to find 
 the ruined castle, birthplace of Robert Bruce; 
 crossing the rough fields of the links, they 
 tramped along the cliffs, always watching for 
 the turrets of a castle. They grew tired, and 
 at last began to retrace their steps. When they 
 came once more to the little white lighthouse, 
 they discovered a few bits of crumbling ruin, 
 hardly to be distinguished from the rocks them- 
 selves. 
 
 ^ ^ Poor Bruce ! ' ^ said Betty, dropping down 
 upon the grass by Mrs. Pitt's side, '^ he 
 wouldn't like to see his old castle now." 
 
 * * It must have been a fine place once upon a 
 time," mused Mrs. Pitt. ^' Here Bruce spent 
 his childhood. His mother was Marjorie, 
 Countess of Car rick, and granddaughter of 
 Duncan, first Lord of Car rick. Having lost her 
 first husband in the Crusades, the lady planned 
 to marry whom she chose, even if she were a 
 royal ward. One time when out hunting, she 
 met a strange knight, liked his handsome face 
 and courtly manner, and invited him to join her 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 279 
 
 train. Coming from such a lady, the request 
 was practically a command; it was, therefore, 
 very surprising to have it refused. The 
 Countess, somewhat angry, ordered her men to 
 surround the knight, and to take him a pris- 
 oner to Turnberry Castle. There, since he did 
 not make love to her, the lady thoughtfully un- 
 dertook the wooing herself. Of course, you 
 have guessed that the knight was Eobert de 
 Bruce, and that their little son was Robert, the 
 Bruce. Upon his mother's death, the boy be- 
 came Earl of Carrick, and, when he was begin- 
 ning his great career, he very naturally looked 
 to his native Carrick for support. After the 
 famous incident of the industrious spider and 
 its many-times-destroyed web, which occurred 
 when Bruce was in exile in Ireland, he returned 
 to Scotland, full of fresh courage. Coming di- 
 rectly to Carrick, his first great victories were 
 won here. ' ' 
 
 '^ And now you can't find his castle unless 
 you hunt for an hour," said Barbara, as they 
 avoided the golf balls on their walk to the hotel. 
 
CHAPTEE NINETEEN 
 
 DUMFRIES AND ITS VICINITY 
 
 The chauffeur sMvered and turned up his 
 coat-collar. The mist was clinging to his rough 
 fur coat and his hair was heavy with it. Even 
 those shut inside the automobile felt cold and 
 uncomfortable enough, for it was a raw day 
 with a sharp wind blowing the heavy Scotch 
 mist. 
 
 ^^ Wish it would rain and be done with it! '' 
 grumbled John, rising to put on a sweater 
 under his coat, while Philip inquired whether he 
 should not close a window which had been left 
 open a crack. 
 
 The party had set off bright and early from 
 the Station Hotel at Dumfries, and it had re- 
 quired considerable courage to start at all on 
 such a morning. Even the boots, who of course 
 had the interest of the garage-keeper at heart, 
 could not promise them a good day; but Mrs. 
 Pitt cheerily advised that they collect all their 
 warmest wraps and set forth. 
 
 The country looked very dreary; speeding 
 along the hard road, they met few people, and 
 
 280 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 281 
 
 even the gray farmhouses, standing in the wide 
 fields, had a deserted look. 
 
 *^ It's about the lonesomest place I ever 
 saw! '' Betty was saying, when the motor ear 
 suddenly came to a standstill. 
 
 *^ Hello! where are we! '' John had put his 
 head out of the window and was holding a 
 rather labored conversation with the grave- 
 faced chauffeur. '' Can't understand him ex- 
 cept something about ^ Iron Rust Church.' 
 There's a church up that road. Do we get 
 out? " 
 
 ** Dear me, yes! I'd quite forgotten it was 
 so near ! You mean ^ Iron G-ray Church, ' John. 
 We'll walk up and see it. The grass is 
 disgustingly wet, but we can keep out of 
 that." 
 
 A lonelier little church could hardly exist. 
 It stands at some distance from the road; only 
 a few houses are visible in the surrounding 
 delds, and it is difficult to believe that there can 
 be enough devout Scotch people to wend their 
 way towards this kirk on a Sabbath. There 
 was no sign of a caretaker, so Mrs. Pitt her- 
 self found the grave of Helen Walker. 
 
 * ' When Scott drew the character of Jeanie 
 Deans in ' The Heart of Midlothian,' this girl 
 was his model," she explained, as they paused 
 by the simple stone for which Walter Scott 
 wrote the inscription. ** Very brave and beau- 
 
282 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 tiful she must have been to have deserved to 
 be thus immortalized.'' 
 
 Passing by a spot where the Covenanters 
 fought one of their last battles, they skirted 
 the tiny village of Dunscore, and at length 
 slowed down near Maxwelton House. 
 
 ^^ Where Annie Laurie lived! " murmured 
 Betty, looking beyond some fields to an old- 
 fashioned, white house, set back among the 
 large trees. 
 
 * ^ Yes, Annie Laurie was born here, but, when 
 she married James Ferguson, she lived at 
 Craigdarroch House, only a short distance be- 
 yond this next town of Moniaive." 
 
 Soon they were making their way through 
 the town, very Scotch and very quaint with its 
 narrow, straggling street lined with one-story 
 cottages, most of them proudly possessing 
 scraps of bright-colored gardens. Now and 
 then a barefooted child appeared at a doorway, 
 or a woman, with a shawl drawn over her head, 
 hurried from one cottage to the next; — and all 
 the while the mist drifted steadily down. 
 
 Set low by the side of a stream, amid beau- 
 tiful lawns, trees, and flowers, Craigdarroch 
 House would have been very lovely on a fine 
 day. It is stately and hospitable-looking in all 
 weathers, this old house, the home of the Fer- 
 gusons since the thirteenth century, with its 
 many windows and broad entrance steps. As 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 283 
 
 John rang the bell, they had a glimpse through 
 the open door of a fine old hall, much dis- 
 ordered by housecleaning ; then they were 
 turned away by a housemaid, far from cordial, 
 who crisply informed them that visitors were 
 not admitted as the Misses Ferguson were away 
 from home. Perhaps the *' turning-out " of 
 the rooms had spoiled her usually even temper. 
 
 ^^ They're very nice, both of these places,'' 
 said Betty, as they passed through the gates of 
 Craigdarroch House once more, '^ but I surely 
 thought Annie Laurie lived in a tiny cottage 
 with a thatched roof. I never knew she was a 
 grand lady, and I'm just a little disappointed, 
 somehow. ' ' 
 
 ** Many people have that same idea, Betty, 
 but they are very wrong in thinking of Annie 
 as a poor peasant girl; she was far from that. 
 Her father was Sir Eobert Laurie of Maxwel- 
 ton, and Annie was the oldest of his three 
 daughters. She was married in 1709 to James 
 Ferguson, and their son, Alexander, was the 
 hero of a poem by Burns called ^ The Whistle. ' 
 That famous whistle is usually kept at Craig- 
 darroch House, but it's now at the Glasgow 
 Exhibition. Oh, you saw it there, John? And 
 you want to know its story I " 
 
 So, while they sat in a back room at the 
 Dunscore inn to which the landlord had ush- 
 ered them, promising to cook some bacon and 
 
284 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 eggs immediately, Mrs. Pitt told them all about 
 the '' Whistle o' Worth/' 
 
 '^ Well then, once when James VI came to 
 Scotland, his queen, Anne of Denmark, accom- 
 panied him, and in her train was a giant Dane, 
 noted for his capacity for drink. He carried 
 with him a whistle made of ebony which he al- 
 ways placed on the table near him to be 
 sounded by the last sober man at the feast. 
 Until he went to Scotland, the Dane had never 
 been beaten in this strange contest; he even 
 claimed to have been victorious at many for- 
 eign courts, Copenhagen, Stockholm, Moscow, 
 Warsaw, and some of the German provinces. 
 The Scots were always able to cope with the 
 best on the point of drink, but the Dane worsted 
 every one till he met Sir Robert Laurie of 
 Maxwelton; at the end of a famous banquet, 
 the whistle was in possession of that clear- 
 headed baronet. The son of Sir Robert, Sir 
 Walter, also won the whistle, but it then went 
 out of the family until Alexander Ferguson, 
 Annie Laurie's son, carried it off for the last 
 time. ' ' 
 
 John's delight at this queer tale was only 
 exceeded by his interest in the platter of bacon 
 and eggs, the tea, bread and butter, and jam, 
 which the landlord was placing before them. 
 There seemed to be no servant at this tiny inn; 
 but it was pleasant to be served by the tall 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 285 
 
 landlord himself, and the food tasted as good 
 as it only can when one has ridden many miles 
 across country in a Scotch mist. 
 
 A short run brought them to Lag Tower, 
 merely a fragment of an old keep, almost hid- 
 den away behind some trees on a little eleva- 
 tion, but interesting as the original of Scott's 
 * ^ Eedgauntlet. ' ' Friars Carse, the house where 
 the contest of the whistle took place, is not far 
 distant. The chauffeur seemed very doubtful 
 about their being permitted to enter these pri- 
 vate premises, but, leaving the motor car at the 
 gate, they gayly proceeded on foot. 
 
 '' The estate once belonged to a friend of 
 Burns,'' said Mrs. Pitt, "" and the poet came 
 here often. It was here that he met a gentle- 
 man, named Grose, who was then writing a book 
 on the ' Antiquities of Scotland.' Burns tried 
 to persuade him to include a description of the 
 auld Alloway kirk, which Grose finally agreed 
 to do if Burns would write him a poem about it. 
 A few days later Burns composed ' Tam o' 
 Shanter.' " 
 
 Their long walk up the pretty drive ended in 
 a disappointment. As they came in sight of 
 what was apparently a modern mansion in- 
 stead of the picturesque old Friars Carse they 
 were in search of, they were so resentful at the 
 many additions and remodelings that they 
 promptly turned their backs upon it. 
 
286 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 Burns 's home at Ellisland Farm they foimd 
 altogether as it should be, a long, low farm- 
 house with a tiny garden full of beautiful white 
 iris. The place looked deserted and their 
 knocks at the kitchen door met with no re- 
 sponse. 
 
 ^^ What is there to see inside, Mother? Are 
 we missing very much? '' 
 
 * ' Oh, no, Barbara ; there 's the kitchen with a 
 stone floor and wide hearth, a few bare little 
 rooms, and, I believe, a pane of glass on which 
 Burns cut his initials. He built this home, you 
 know, and I've read about some of the strange 
 customs here when he and Jean Armour first 
 took possession. There were certain things to 
 be done to insure good luck for the young 
 couple which, I'm afraid, they didn't get, after 
 all. With their friends all dressed in their best, 
 they solemnly approached; a servant entered 
 the door first, carrying the family Bible on 
 which rested a bowl of salt. After this Burns 
 stepped in with his bride upon his arm and, 
 as they crossed the threshold, a neighbor broke 
 an oatcake over the bride's head. In the even- 
 ing there was probably a dance on the bright, 
 smooth, new floors, and all the neighbors helped 
 them to make merry. Now, come around back 
 of the house a moment. I think it was on this 
 path, above the little stream, that Burns wrote 
 his poem about Tam. He was walking there 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 287 
 
 when the idea came to him, and so much amused 
 was he and so uproariously did he laugh that 
 his wife thought he must be losing his head." 
 
 As they came down the lane from the farm- 
 house to the road, a handsome dog met them 
 and then skulked off sheepishly into a field, 
 behind the hedge. 
 
 '' He looks awfully guilty!/' Betty declared; 
 ^^ I think his family have gone to market and 
 left him to take care of the house, but he for- 
 got and went oif somewhere. '^ 
 
 The country north of Dumfries, in the val- 
 ley of the Nith, is so lovely as to have been 
 frequently and favorably compared with the 
 famed valley of the Wye. Even on this day of 
 rain and cloud which hid all distant views, they 
 realized the beauty of it. The woodland was 
 all green and silver, the fields rich in yellow 
 grain, and along the roadsides were quantities 
 of wild roses, white and pink. It seemed a pity 
 to enter dingy Dumfries with its dark build- 
 ings, narrow streets, and throngs of poor chil- 
 dren who wear heavy copper-toed shoes which 
 have neither buttons nor lacings and make a 
 loud clattering on the rough pavements. 
 
 Leaving the motor car and starting on foot in 
 search of the little house in which Bums died, 
 they were surrounded by swarms of these dirty 
 children ; they could not have missed the house 
 with so many small guides eagerly pointing 
 
288 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 the way. The building has a bust and an in- 
 scription, and another residence of the poet, in 
 Bank Street, is marked by a tablet; both are 
 very humble, testifying to the poverty of the 
 last days of Burns 's life. They saw the Globe 
 Inn on High Street, a favorite resort of Burns, 
 which still has his chair. They also noticed 
 the tablet in Castle Street, showing the site of 
 the altar of the ancient church of Greyfriars 
 Monastery, before which Bruce murdered the 
 Red Comyn. They had just time before dark 
 to visit the Burns Mausoleum in the church- 
 yard of St. Michael's; they thought it very 
 ugly, however, its one redeeming feature being 
 the familiar bas-relief of Burns at the plow, 
 with the angel hovering overhead. 
 
 During their wanderings through the newer 
 part of town, they came upon the *^ Moat 
 Hostel," charmingly situated near the river. 
 Originally a private house, the place is now a 
 dormitory for forty-seven girls who are junior 
 pupils at Dumfries Academy. Betty had not 
 been to boarding-school, but she meant to go 
 some day, so she eagerly accepted the matron's 
 offer to show them about, even though the pu- 
 pils were all away for their long holiday. It 
 was interesting to see the basement dining-room 
 and, close by, a room with square partitions 
 to hold the girls ' ^^ boxes," or trunks, and the 
 ' ' boot room ' ' where the pupils clean their own 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 289 
 
 boots ; it was strange to see how many cot-beds 
 are placed in one large room, each being in- 
 closed by thick curtains. They saw rows of 
 wardrobes, far too small to hold an American 
 girl's belongings. The pupils get up very early 
 in summer, and their long day ends with the 
 regular study hour from seven to eight in the 
 evening. 
 
 ^^ I'm glad I won't have to get up so awfully 
 early! " Betty confided to Mrs. Pitt; ^^ and I 
 should hate to have to sleep in the room with 
 so many others, and not to have any place to 
 put my things! It doesn't seem as if they had 
 much fun. But there's a big room where they 
 can play the piano for dancing, they have ten- 
 nis courts, and of course they can always row 
 on that pretty river! " 
 
 The following day they took train to Mauch- 
 line, where they found many more associations 
 with Burns. As soon as they had turned into 
 the quaint village street, Betty exclaimed, 
 a There's Poosie Nansie's, that low brown 
 building with the thatched roof. No, John, it 
 is an inn, of course. Don't you love if? " 
 
 Around the corner, in the '^ Coogate," Jean 
 Armour was born. Near by was the village 
 women's common drying ground, and here 
 Burns first saw Jean, his dog mischievously 
 carrying otf the clothes she had spread out to 
 bleach. 
 
290 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 *^ That's no kind of a castle! '' cried John, 
 surveying an ancient keep to which a much 
 more modern building has been attached. ' ' If 
 I'd been Burns and had wanted to be married 
 in a castle, I'd have chosen a better one than 
 that! " 
 
 Here, presumably, lived Gavin Hamilton, 
 Burns 's friend, in whose parlor he and Jean 
 were married. A queer little walled-in walk 
 leads around the castle domain, and in Castle 
 Street is the thatched cottage in which Burns 
 and Jean set up housekeeping. 
 
 An old woman in the doorway was rather 
 communicative. 
 
 ^^ Burns lived here, didn't he? " she was 
 asked. 
 
 '' Ay, a' think so. But," shaking her gray 
 head, *^ a' wasna here then." 
 
 They walked out to see Mossgiel Farm, a 
 typical farm of the district, now as in Burns 's 
 time owned by the Alexander family. The 
 house sets back from the road and is sur- 
 rounded by fields which are tilled just as when 
 Burns, in plowing, turned up the daisy and the 
 field-mouse. 
 
 '^ There are lots of * wee crimson-tipped 
 flowers ' in the tall grass," remarked Betty, 
 ^' but I don't see any ^ beastie.' " 
 
 That afternoon it actually rained again, and, 
 instead of taking a drive, they all partook of 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 291 
 
 tea at an attractive shop. As a result, no 
 one was hungry when dinner-time came, and 
 the tiny drawing-room grate, its pile of coal 
 hedged in with neat white paper, was at length 
 induced to burst into a blaze. It was most 
 discouraging at first. So damp was it that when 
 a waiter held a match against the paper, it 
 flickered and immediately went out. Once 
 more he struck a light and laid the match 
 on the bar of the iron grate, its burning end 
 against the paper. After a long pause, during 
 which Mrs. Pitt and the others sat breathless, 
 the paper did catch and a cheerful blaze finally 
 broke forth. 
 
 Here they were comfortably reading and 
 chatting, having almost forgotten their guilty 
 attempts to escape the tiresome table d'hote, 
 when the door opened and the tall, imperious 
 head-waiter entered. Straightway taking in 
 the whole situation, he scowled and announced 
 sternly, '' Dinner, when you are ready. Mad- 
 am.'' They were all afraid of him, even Mrs. 
 Pitt. They said nothing, but they went; and 
 when they came back to the drawing-room, their 
 fire had gone out. Such are the trials of 
 travelers ! 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY 
 
 JUST OVEB THE BORDER 
 
 '* I'm a Ferguson, once from Perthshire but 
 kenned here for five hundred years/' 
 
 Such was the quaint answer given by the old 
 guide when Mrs. Pitt asked if he were a Max- 
 well, of the family to which the castle has al- 
 ways belonged. They had sought him out at 
 his cottage, which stood close by the great 
 building with its double moat. 
 
 Built on level ground, near the sea, Caer- 
 laverock Castle could have had no means of 
 protection other than its own thick walls, its 
 two moats, and three portcullises. Its odd 
 shape is that of a triangle, each side being one 
 hundred and twenty-three feet long, so the 
 guide told them; and he added, ^* This castle's 
 built on a rock, so it still stands, but it was all 
 over when Cromwell came in 1640 with his 
 guns." 
 
 There are broken pieces of carving near the 
 entrance and on one is the motto of the power- 
 ful Maxwell family, to which the present 
 Duchess of Norfolk belongs: *^ I bid you fair; 
 
 292 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 293 
 
 I give you welcome." The castle was built in 
 1093, but was changed much, additions being 
 made in 1638 when the wall of one side of the 
 three-cornered courtyard was refaced. Above 
 the entrance to this last addition is the Maxwell 
 coat of arms, while over its windows are carved 
 the arms of various families with which the 
 Maxwells were allied; there is the double eagle 
 of the Herries, and the fleur-de-lis of the Guise. 
 Across the back side of the triangle ran a ban- 
 quet-hall one hundred feet long; over this was 
 the chapel, and at one end was the Eoyal Tower 
 in which the Duke of Albany, who attempted to 
 poison his brother, King James, was im- 
 prisoned for seven years before being finally be- 
 headed at Stirling. 
 
 ^^ See all the flowers growing against the old 
 banquet-hall walls ! ' ' cried Barbara ; ' ' I see 
 St. John's-wort, many kinds of roses, and lots 
 of others." 
 
 '* There's some fine — ^what do you call it? 
 Teazel? " inquired John. 
 
 ^ ' Ay, but there 's something finer, Scotty ! ' ' 
 replied the old attendant, touching an enormous 
 Scotch thistle with his stick. 
 
 They then saw, in the third side of the tri- 
 angle, what are known as the '^ gentlemen's 
 reading-room " and the ^' ladies' reading- 
 room," surely unheard-of luxuries in most old 
 castles of the period. As they stepped into 
 
294 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 their carriage, the guide pointed out the an- 
 cient ' ' Hill of Judgment ' ' where the Maxwells 
 used to try their prisoners. 
 
 ^^ Seems as if that castle's familiar, some- 
 how," declared Betty, glancing back at it as 
 they drove away. ^ ' Has anybody written about 
 it, Mrs. Pitt? '' 
 
 ^' Yes, dear, Scott wrote about it, calling it 
 ^ Ellengowan ' in his ' Guy Mannering.' You 
 must be thinking of that." 
 
 On their way back to Dumfries, they passed 
 through the little village of Bankend, where are 
 many quaint thatched roofs. All the neat, one- 
 story houses have miniature gardens; roses 
 were everywhere! They noticed one big pile 
 of peat, of which there is a little in this south- 
 western section. Particularly noticeable are 
 the great fields of potatoes with their pretty 
 lavender and white blossoms. The fields were 
 full of women on their knees. Women do much 
 of the hard work in Scotland. On the road they 
 passed one with her skirts tucked up high above 
 her dingy petticoat, a bag slung across her 
 shoulders, and a huge sunbonnet which flopped 
 in the breeze. They wondered if she could be 
 the '' post girl." 
 
 The next morning their train was stopping 
 at a little junction when Betty looked out and 
 exclaimed, ^ ^ I think these station platform gar- 
 dens are perfectly lovely, don't you? Who 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 295 
 
 takes care of them, Mrs. Pitt? They're just 
 as neat and nice as any private garden, even 
 if they are right along by the railroad. I see 
 Canterbury bells, larkspurs, sweet williams, 
 foxgloves, snapdragons, and iris! " 
 
 ^ ^ And the pansies ! ' ' put in John quickly. 
 *^ Never saw such dandies! " 
 
 The party was actually en route for Gretna 
 Green, which is just over the border ; that very 
 night they would be in England again, at 
 * ^ merry Carlisle. ' ' They hardly knew whether 
 to be glad or sorry. 
 
 As the train sped on they talked of the old 
 feuds and border wars, which resulted in fierce 
 encounters between men of the south side and 
 those of the north. 
 
 ^' Between the recognized Scotch and Eng- 
 lish border lay a strip of land belonging to 
 neither country," said Mrs. Pitt. '^ The set- 
 tlers of this Debatable Land were called Eat- 
 ables, and, naturally enough, they were refugees, 
 men who had been outlawed by one or both 
 countries. These are the men whom Scott de- 
 scribes in ' The Lay of the Last Minstrel,' who 
 
 "^Bought the beeves, that made their broth, 
 In Scotland and in England both.' 
 
 They, and also many men, both Scotch and 
 English, who did not live on this particular 
 
296 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 strip of land, spent their time in making raids 
 into the enemies^ country and carrying off cat- 
 tle upon which they lived." 
 
 ^^ Jolly enough! " interrupted John. ** Did 
 they do that all the time! " 
 
 ** Oh, there were days, of course, when the 
 * Lord Wardens of England and Scotland, and 
 Scotland and England ' met midway, on this no 
 man's land, to hear complaints from both sides 
 and to deal out a certain kind of justice. It 
 was understood that no one could be arrested 
 on these occasions, but two hundred English- 
 men pursued a man named Willie Armstrong 
 (or Kinmont Willie) and brought him to Car- 
 lisle. He had been harrying the countryside for 
 so long that they could not resist the tempta- 
 tion of capturing him when they had the op- 
 portunity. 
 
 " ' have ye no heard o' the fause Sakelde? 
 
 have ye no heard o' the keen Lord Seroope? 
 Now they hae ta'en bould Kinmont Willie, 
 On Haribee to hang him up ? ' " 
 
 ** And did they hang him up? " burst out 
 John. 
 
 '' No, the Scottish warden, Sir Walter Scott 
 of Buccleuch, could not bear this; he made his 
 way, with his men, into Carlisle and rescued 
 Kinmont Willie from his cell on the very night 
 before the expected hanging. 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 297 
 
 ** Have any of you read the old ballad called 
 ' The Hunting of the Cheviot 'V added Mrs. 
 Pitt, and hearing no response, she went on, ' ' It 
 deals with Henry Percy, son of the Earl of 
 Northumberland, whom the Scots called ^ Hot- 
 spur * because of his liking hot and sudden raids 
 across the border. Failing of a bloody en- 
 counter, he would simply carry off some of the 
 enemies ' cattle or burn a village or two. There 
 was very great rivalry (though that's a mild 
 word to apply to it), between these English 
 Percys and the Scotch Douglas's. This ballad 
 tells in its quaint old English of a famous raid 
 made by Percy of Bamborough Castle, into the 
 lands of the Black Douglas." 
 
 << Why was he black? " asked John, when 
 there came a pause. 
 
 ** Scott, in his ' Tales of a Grandfather,' 
 tells us that it was because he was ^ tall, strong, 
 and well-made, of a swarthy complexion, with 
 dark hair.' His name was William Douglas, 
 lord of Nithsdale, and he died in 1390, so you 
 now have an idea of the period described in this 
 famous ballad." 
 
 *^ How long did the border wars last, please, 
 Mrs. Pitt? " 
 
 ^* For many centuries, Betty, until the two 
 great kingdoms became one, at least in name. 
 The wars were very cruel and the attacks might 
 come at any time ; the poor people had to resort 
 
298 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 to many strange means of protection. At the 
 signal of the approach of English foes from 
 across the border, the Scotch would leave their 
 huts and take to the morasses or, sometimes, tO 
 caves hewn in the rock in sheltered or inac- 
 cessible places. There are still a few such caves 
 in existence; I believe those at Hawthornden 
 are thought by some to have served this very 
 purpose. Then, you remember the many bor- 
 der peels that were built for the people's safety; 
 they are scattered all over the southern part of 
 the country. That old tower at Smailholm is an 
 excellent example." 
 
 Their train, one which stopped at the small- 
 est stations, was even slower than usual on this 
 day. It stopped often, stood long at junctions, 
 and it was not until they noticed many heavy 
 trains going northwards, that they realized the 
 reason for their delay. 
 
 '' Why, it's the twelfth of August, Mother! 
 We might have known ! ' ' 
 
 ''My word!" exclaimed Mrs. Pitt; *' the 
 twelfth of August! That does explain it, 
 surely! It's the day that the shooting in Scot- 
 land begins, John. If we were at Euston or 
 King's Cross or St. Pancras Stations in London, 
 we should see many long trains packed with 
 sportsmen. Coaches go straight through to 
 Perth or Aberdeen or Inverness, and seats are 
 booked far in advance. Yes, we are leaving 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 299 
 
 Scotland just as the English are flocking to it, 
 just as the busy season is beginning. Here we 
 are at Gretna Green, at last! Let down that 
 window by you, John; Philip, don't forget your 
 umbrella in the rack! '' 
 
 Gretna Green is an attractive little village 
 with a real green and beyond, Gretna Hall, said 
 to have been the scene of the first hasty mar- 
 riages. The blacksmith's shop, so far-famed, is 
 a low whitewashed building. Outside stood a 
 queer cart, flat across the top, with a square 
 opening into which the driver puts his feet. 
 Looking in the low doorway, they saw the smith 
 at work over the farmer 's horse. 
 
 '' But what has a blacksmith's shop got to 
 do with people who ran away to be married? " 
 
 ^^ Everything, John. I'll tell you how the 
 shop and its smith happened to play such a 
 big part. At a time when a strict law was 
 passed in England forbidding ' fleet,' or run- 
 away marriages, some one discovered that more 
 lax rules prevailed in Scotland. After this 
 many made hurried trips across the border. 
 In the eighteenth century the only way of 
 traveling about the country was by means of 
 coaches, and many of the old coach routes ended 
 at Carlisle, only nine miles away. It was very 
 easy to hire a pair of swift horses and be 
 whisked over the sands to Gretna Green. So 
 many impatient couples did this that there 
 
300 JOHN AND BETTY'S 
 
 were not ministers enough to attend to them 
 all. Other men, therefore, called themselves 
 ministers and were always in readiness to per- 
 form any number of hasty ceremonies in a day. 
 Among these, the blacksmith became a very 
 popular man; when a chaise drove up to his 
 door here, he would leave his work, marry the 
 pair speedily, and doubtless receive a large tip 
 if he finished before the stern parents were able 
 to overtake the young people. Thus it was that 
 this town and its blacksmith's shop became so 
 famous. Scott, Thackeray, and many other 
 writers have given us pictures of runaway mar- 
 riages at Gretna Green." 
 
 '' The shop isn't a bit pretty, though," Betty 
 reflected, '^ and truly, I shouldn't like to be 
 married there. Perhaps it had vines growing 
 over it when it was so famous, though; then it 
 wouldn't have been so bad. Just think; if it 
 was only like that dear blacksmith shop at 
 Cockington, near Torquay! How adorable to 
 be married under a thatched roof! " 
 
 '' Silly! " exclaimed John. '' Do you sup- 
 pose they cared what the place looked like as 
 long as they had no bothering father, mother, 
 or uncles and things to interfere? " 
 
 And so they walked back to the tiny station, 
 and sat down to wait for the Carlisle train. 
 
 '^ After all, there's nothing like our own 
 England! " said Barbara, smiling. 
 
SCOTCH HISTORY VISIT 301 
 
 *' Scotland's much jollier! '' said John en- 
 thusiastically. 
 
 *' Oh, I just love them both! '' cried Betty, 
 hugging Mrs. Pitt's arm. '^ But I don't want 
 our lovely trip to be all over! Will you take 
 us over to Ireland sometime, Mrs. Pitt? '^ 
 
 THE END 
 
BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 The following books were found helpful by the author dur- 
 ing her travels in Scotland while gathering material for "John 
 and Betty's Scotch History Visit": 
 
 History of the Highlands and Highland Clans — James Browne. 
 
 Baronial and Ecclesiastical Antiquities of Scotland — Billings. 
 
 Edinburgh — Oliphant Smeaton. 
 
 Superstitions of the Western Highlands — Campbell. 
 
 Traditions of Edinburgh — Robert Chambers. 
 
 The Land of Heather — Clifton Johnson. 
 
 A Summer in Skye — Alexander Smith. 
 
 Castles and Keeps of Scotland — Frank Roy Fraprie. 
 
 Literary Tours in the Highlands and Islands of Scotland — 
 
 D. T. Holmes. 
 The Highlands and Islands — A. R. Hope Moncrieff. 
 The Burns Country — C. S. Dougall. 
 Byeways of Scottish History — George Eyre-Todd. 
 Old JVorld Scotland: Glimpses of Its Modes and Manners — 
 
 T. F. Henderson. 
 A Itavona — Blackie. 
 
 Scotland {Story of the Nations Series) — ^Mackintosh. 
 The Misty Isle of Skye — J. A. Macculloch. 
 The Children's Book of Edinburgh — Elizabeth Grierson. 
 Scotland for Children — Mrs. Oliphant. 
 
 302 
 
INDEX 
 
 " Abbey-Kirk of Halirude," 
 
 173 
 "Abbot, The," 138, 179 
 Abbotsford, 216 
 Aberdeen, 135 
 Albany, Duke of, 187 
 Argyll, Duke of, 45, 51, 69, 
 
 73, 107 
 Argyll, Marquis of, 159, 187 
 Armour, Jean, 286, 289 
 Arthur, Prince, 26 
 Arthur's Seat, 153, 227 
 "Athens, the Modern," 152 
 
 Baliol, John, 210, 258 
 
 " Ballengeich, Gudeman of," 
 
 176, 243 
 Balmerino, Lord, 37 
 Bane, Donald, 162, 192 
 Bannockburn, 245 
 Barrie, J. M., 124 
 Beaton, Cardinal, 133 
 "Beefeaters," 23, 27 
 Ben Cruaehan, 54, 56 
 Ben Nevis, 112 
 Blackwood, William, 152 
 Bond Street, 10 
 "Boot Hill," 115 
 Bothwell, Earl of, 138, 227 
 Bran, 67, 89 
 Bruce, The Heart of, 141, 
 
 213, 233 
 Bruce, Robert, 141, 207, 229, 
 
 239, 245, 257, 278, 288 
 Buchanan, Greorge, 198 
 Burns, Robert, 272, 285, 287, 
 
 289 
 
 Canmore, King Malcolm, 60, 
 
 161, 233 
 Canmore, Queen Margaret, 
 
 45, 141, 148, 161, 186, 192, 
 Canongate, The, 149, 174, 
 
 178 
 Carnegie, Andrew, 142 
 Castle-hill, Edinburgh, 158 
 Cawdor Castle, 51, 100 
 Chapel, Queen Margaret's, 
 
 160 
 " Charing Cross of the High- 
 lands," 35 
 Charles II, 175 
 Charlie, Prince, 37, 61, 79, 
 
 211, 220 
 " Clach-na-can," 67 
 Clans, Highland, 60 
 Clarence House, 26 
 Clyde, The River, 253 
 Coldstream Guards, 210 
 Colin Campbell of Glenorchy, 
 
 53 
 Connaught, Duke of, 23, 25, 
 
 27, 33, 189, 263 
 Constable, Alexander, 152 
 "Coolins." 81, 85 
 Covenanters, The, 198, 210 
 Cowgate, The, 150 
 Craigmillar Castle, 151, 153 
 Crinan Canal, 39 
 Cromwell, Oliver, 169, 210, 
 
 292 
 Crown Prince and Princess of 
 
 Sweden, 27 
 Cuchullin, 85 
 Culloden Moor, 37, 107 
 
 Caledonian Canal, 110 
 Calton Hill, 143, 152, 164 
 Campbell, Clan, 54, 93 
 
 Darnley, Lord, 138, 154, 167, 
 
 175, 201 
 David I, 148, 265 
 
 303 
 
304 
 
 INDEX 
 
 "David Garrick," 32 
 Deans, Jeanie, 155, 281 
 "Den, The," 121 
 Disarming Act, 38 
 Douglas, Archibald, ( " Bell 
 
 the Cat"), 227 
 " Douglas Black Dinner," 169 
 Douglas, Earl of, 169 
 Douglas, George, 133, 138 
 Douglas, Lord James, 233 
 Douglas, Lord and Lady, 138 
 Douglas, William, " The 
 
 Black," 297 
 Douglas, Willie, 139 
 Dryburgh Abbey, 222 
 Duart Castle, 50 
 Dumbarton Castle, 160 
 Duncan, King, 46, 105, 116 
 Dunfermline, 148 
 Dunnottar Castle, 165 
 Dunollie Castle, 51, 67, 73 
 Dunscaich Castle, 85 
 Dunstaffnage Castle, 67 
 Dunvegan, 80, 84, 111 
 Dunvegan Castle, 92 
 
 Edinburgh Castle, 156 
 Edward I, 69, 133, 210, 
 
 258 
 Eigg, Island of, 73 
 Eildon Hills, 212 
 Erraid, Island of, 41 
 Esk, The Eiver, 231 
 Esplanade, Edinburgh Castle, 
 
 156 
 
 "Fair Maid of Perth," 115 
 Fairy Brig, 84, 97 
 Fairy Flag, 95 
 Fairy Tower, 94 
 Fingal, 48, 67, 84 
 Fingal's Cave, 38, 48 
 Fingalians, The, 86 
 Flodden Field, 184, 206, 
 
 257 
 Forbes-Robertson, 31 
 Fort Augustus, 110 
 Fort William, 110 
 Forth Bridge, 142 
 Forth, Firth of, 142 
 
 Gaelic, 36, 62 
 
 Gallery of the Kings, The, 
 
 175 
 Gardens, Princes Street, 147 
 Geddes, Jenny, 188, 203 
 George IV, 152, 166, 217, 244 
 George V, 21, 29, 33, 69 
 German Crown Princess, 33 
 Giant's Causeway, 48 
 Glamis Castle, 116 
 Glencoe Pass, 55 
 Golf, 128 
 
 Graeme, Roland, 139, 179 
 Grampian Mountains, 114 
 Grassmarket, The, 169 
 " Graveyard, Old Calton," 151 
 Gretna Green, 295, 299 
 "Greyfriars Bobby," 200 
 Grey friars Church, 196 
 Guise, Mary of, 168 
 
 Half -Moon Battery, 164 
 Hamilton, Duchess of, 175 
 Heriot, George, 181, 194 
 Heriot's Hospital, 193 
 High Street, 146, 149, 178 
 " Hill of the Fairies," 109 
 "Hogmanay Night," 126 
 Holyrood Palace, 148, 153, 
 
 171, 196 
 Horse Guards, 12, 16, 20 
 Hume, David, 152 
 Hyde Park, 14 
 
 Inverness, 108 
 lona Cathedral, 46 
 lona, Island of, 35, 42, 69 
 Irving, Sir Henry, 103 
 
 James I, 114, 197 
 
 James II, 244 
 
 James III, 133, 174, 227 
 
 James IV, 169, 184, 196, 205 
 
 James V, 172, 175, 208, 242 
 
 James VI, 168, 181, 240, 260, 
 
 284 
 Jedburgh, 211 
 John, Prince. 20 
 Johnson, Dr., 94, 178, 228 
 Jonson, Ben, 228 
 "Julius Caesar," 32 
 
INDEX 
 
 305 
 
 Kelso, 211 
 Kendal, Mrs., 32 
 Kenneth II, 69, 115 
 Kerrera, 34, 37 
 "Kidnapped," 41, 242 
 Kilehurn Castle, 53 
 Kilmarnock, Lord, 37 
 Kinross, 135, 139 
 Kirkoswald, 276 
 Kitchener, Lord, 21 
 Knox, John, 133, 179, 181, 
 188, 203 
 
 "Lady of the Lake, The," 
 
 217, 247, 249 
 Lady Rock, 51 
 "Lands," 146 
 "Lang Gait, The," 151 
 Laurie, Annie, 265, 282 
 Lawnmarket, 182 
 "Lay of the Last Minstrel, 
 
 The," 213, 217, 295 
 Lincoln, Abraham, 152 
 " Little Minister, The/' 124 
 Loch Awe, 54 
 Loch Etive, 69 
 Loch Katrine, 251 
 Lochleven, 135 
 Lochleven Castle, 257 
 Loch Lomond, 250 
 Loch Maree, 97 
 Loch Ness, 110 
 Lora, Falls of, 70 
 "Lord of the Isles, The," 68 
 Lord Mayor, 23, 31 
 Lords of the Isles, 62 
 Lome, Broach of, 68 
 Lome, Lords of, 68 
 Lovat, Lord, 37, 107 
 Lucy, Sir Thomas, 112 
 
 Macalpine, Kenneth, 69, 115 
 Macbeth, 46, 105, 116 
 Macdonald, Clan, 55, 62, 67, 
 
 73 
 Macdonald, Flora, 79 
 Macgregor, Clan, 54 
 Maclaren, Ian, 126 
 Malcolm III, 131 
 Mansfield, Earl of, 115 
 
 Maree, Eileen, 98 
 Margaret, Queen, 239 
 Marlborough, Duchess of, 32 
 "Marmion," 205 
 Martyrs' Monument, 198 
 Mary, Princess, 20, 22 
 Mary, Queen, 21, 29, 33 
 Mary, Queen of Scots, 137, 
 
 154, 160, 167, 175, 182, 
 187, 197, 211, 220, 227, 
 238, 240, 257, 260, 264 
 
 McLean, Clan, 46, 50 
 
 McLean Cross, 45 
 
 McLeod, Clan, 73, 92 
 
 Melfort Pass, 64 
 
 Melrose, 141, 209, 212, 225 
 
 Melrose Abbey, 212 
 
 Mercat Cross, 183, 188, 205, 
 
 246 
 "Merry Wives of Windsor," 
 
 31 
 "Midlothian, The Heart of," 
 
 155, 183, 221, 281 
 Moil Castle, 74 
 Mons Meg, 160 
 Montrose, Marquis of, 185, 
 
 187, 221 
 Morris, Tom, 132 
 Mound, The, 143 
 " Muckle-Mouthed Meg," 222 
 Mull, Island of, 36, 40 
 
 Nairn, 100 
 
 National Gallery, 151 
 
 National Monument, 152 
 
 Nelson's Monument, 164 
 
 Netherbow Port, 149 
 
 "Nor' Loch," 148, 151, 158 
 
 North Berwick, 205, 209 
 
 Oban, 34, 66, 73 
 " Old King Cole," 46 
 "One-o'clock Gun," 164, 170 
 Ossian, 55, 71, 84 
 
 Palace Yard, Old, 165 
 Patricia, Princess, 33 
 Parliament Hall, 169 
 Parliament Square, 145, 181 
 Peat, 77, 82 
 
3o6 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Percy, Henry ( " Hotspur " ) , 
 
 297 
 Perth, 114 
 Portree, 72, 76 
 Prince of Wales, 20, 22, 64, 
 
 189 
 Princes Street, 143, 190, 201, 
 
 227 
 
 Queen's Drive, The, 153 
 Queensberry House, 177 
 Queensferry, 142 
 
 Eamsay, Allan, 198 
 Regalia, Scottish, 70, 165 
 Regent's Park, 14 
 Rizzio, David, 175, 177 
 Roberts, Lord, 21 
 Rock, Edinburgh Castle, 147 
 Roslin, 231, 234, 237 
 Rosslyn Chapel, 220, 232, 
 
 235 
 Roy, Rob, 221, 250 
 Royal High School, 152 
 Royal Scots, 144 
 
 St. Andrews, 128, 209 
 St. Andrews Castle, 133 
 St. Andrews Cathedral, 131 
 St. Andrews University, 131, 
 
 134 
 St. Clair, Earl of, 233, 235 
 St. Clair, the Line of, 233 
 St. Columba, 42, 259 
 St. Giles' Cathedral, 143, 181, 
 
 186, 203 
 St. James's Palace, 10, 23, 
 
 26, 79 
 St. Martin's Cross, 45, 47 
 St. Mungo, 259 
 St. Regulus, 131 
 "Samson's Ribs,?' 153 
 "Saucy Mary," 74 
 Scone Palace, 115 
 Scone, Stone of, 67, 115 
 Scott, Michael, 213 
 
 Scott Monument, The, 143, 
 
 151 
 Scott, Sir Walter, 94, 160, 
 
 166, 200, 213, 217, 281 
 " Sentimental Tommy," 117 
 Shakespeare, William, 112 
 Skye Dogs, 77 
 Skye, Isle of, 63, 74 
 Sligachan, 80 
 Somerlid, First Lord of the 
 
 Isles, 62 
 Spanish Armada, 73, 164, 219 
 " Speak a bit," 219 
 Staffa, Island of, 35, 47 
 Stevenson, Robert Louis, 188 
 Stirling Castle, 240 
 Struan, 82 
 
 Tantallon Castle, 204 
 Terry, Ellen, 32, 103 
 Thames Embankment, 60 
 "Thrums," 116 
 Tobermory, 41, 50, 73 
 Trafalgar Square, 17 
 Trossachs, The, 248 
 Tweed, The River, 222 
 
 Van Dyke, Dr., 125 
 
 Wallace, William, 258, 274 
 Wellhouse Tower, 191 
 Westminster Abbey, 17, 22, 
 
 27. 69 
 "Whistle o' Worth, The," 
 
 265, 284 
 White Horse Close, 177 
 White Horse Hostelry, 178 
 Whitehall, 17 
 Whittier, J. G., 98 
 William III, 55, 79 
 " Window in Thrums, A," 
 
 117 
 Wishart, George, 133 
 
 Yeomen of the Guard, 20, 23, 
 26 
 
John and Betty's History Visit 
 
 By MARGARET WILLIAMSON 
 
 Twenty=four full-page illustrations from photographs 
 Large 12ino $L25 
 
 
 JOHN AND BETTfsl 
 HISTORY VISIT 
 
 
 
 II 
 
 J 
 
 
 
 MARGARET WILLIAMSON 
 
 
 TVTOT every American boy and girl can learn the 
 past and present of '^ our old home " in 
 England in so delightful a way as do this bro- 
 ther and sister who are sent to England to be 
 shown the leading places of historic interest in 
 company with an English brother and sister of 
 their own ages, and under the wise and sensible 
 direction of the mother of the latter. But every 
 one can enjoy reading of the jolly trips taken by 
 the four children and Mrs. Pitt, the mother of 
 English Philip and Barbara, who proves to be the 
 best of entertainers and traveling companions, and a great deal of useful 
 knowledge is gained in so pleasant a way that no one thinks he has been 
 doing more than getting acquainted with some very nice young friends. The 
 photographic illustrations are well chosen and excellent. 
 
 **With all the fascinatieu of a story the account of these visits to places of in 
 terest grips the mind and charms the heart, and next to an actual visit, we recom- 
 mend the reading of this delightful volume by the old as well as the young, by those 
 who have seen England, and particularly by those who are going to see it. The il- 
 lustrations here shown are of especial merit, many of them, we understands being 
 taken by the author herseli.'*-^Untversalist Leader. 
 
 "• 'John and Betty's History Visit,' by Margaret Williamson, is a singularly 
 delightful book for young readers, in that it vitalizes to an extensive degree, the 
 great facts in English history by the skilful and pleasing device of conveying two 
 young American and two young English children under the guidance of the lat- 
 ter's mother to many of the most historic spots of old England." — Chicago News. 
 
 For galm by all bookgellers or sent postpaid oa receipt 
 of price by the publishers 
 
 LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., BOSTON 
 
Makers of England Series 
 
 By EVA MARCH TAPPAN. Ph.D. 
 
 ipvR. TAPPAN'S historical works have 
 
 -■— ^ already become classics for the young, 
 and well do they deserve it, with their enter- 
 taining descriptions, perfect English, and 
 historical value. Such books are the best 
 that can be placed in the hands of children ; 
 and the fact that while being instructive there 
 is never a dull line is the highest commen- 
 dation that can be offered. 
 
 In the Days of Alfred the Great 
 
 Cloth Fully illustrated Price $1.00 
 
 In the Days of William the Conqueror 
 
 Cloth Illustrated by J. W. Kennedy Price $1.00 
 
 In the Days of Queen Elizabeth 
 
 Cloth Illustrated from famous paintings Price $I.OO 
 
 In the Days of Queen Victoria 
 
 Cloth Illustrated from paintings and photographs Price $I.OO 
 
 MISS TAPPAN reads her authorities 
 intelligently and selects her material 
 wisely, always having her young audience well 
 in mind. She has a clear idea of the require- 
 ments for interesting and stimulating young 
 readers, and arousing in them a desire for fur- 
 ther research. The entire series are admir- 
 ably adapted to this end, and are warmly 
 recommended to the attention of parents, 
 teachers, and librarians.— *'£>'^," Philadel- 
 phia^ Pa. 
 
 EVA MARCH TAPPAN 
 
 LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO. 
 
 BOSTON 
 
E Boy of a Doueatia 
 
 years JTgo 
 
 By Harriet T. Comstock Large i2mo 
 Profusely illustrated with full-page draw« 
 ings and chapter headings by Georgb 
 
 VaRIAN $I.(X) 
 
 TT will at once be understood that the 
 "'• '«boy" of the story is Alfred the Great 
 in his youth, but it cannot be understood 
 how delightful a story this is until it is seen 
 and read. The splendid pictures of George 
 Varian make this book superior among 
 juveniles, 
 
 '" Not a boy lives who will not enjoy this book thoroughly. There is a good 
 deal of first-class historical information woven into the story, but the best part of it 
 is the splendid impression of times and manners it gives in old England a thousand 
 years &go.'*—I,ouisvt7le Courier- Journal, 
 
 •* Mrs. Comstock writes very appreciatively of Little Alfred, who was after- 
 ward the Great, and from mighty meagre materials creates a story that hangs to. 
 gether well. The illustrations for this volume jire especially beautiful.'* — Boston 
 Tlome Journal, 
 
 De Story of Joan of Hrc boysa7o''girls 
 
 By Kate E. Carpenter Illustrated by 
 Amy Brooks, also from paintings, and 
 with map Large i2mo Cloth $i.oo 
 
 "TTHE favorite story of Joan of Arc is here 
 * treated in a uniquely attractive way. 
 *' Aunt Kate '* tells the story of Joan of Arc 
 to Master Harold, aged ii, and to Misses 
 Bessie and Marjorie, aged lo and 8, respec- 
 tively, to their intense delight. They look 
 up places on the map, and have a fine time 
 while hearing the thrilling story, told in such 
 simple language that they can readily under- 
 stand it all. Parents and teachers will also 
 be greatly interested in this book from an 
 educational point of view. 
 
 " The tale Is well told and the children will delight In it,»»«. Chicagc Post. 
 
 ** Told so simply and clearly thai young- readers tcannot fail to be entertained 
 aad instructed.'* — Congregattonalist^ Boston^ 
 
 For sale by aU booksellers or seni; postpaid on receipt of price 
 
 by the publishers, 
 
 i.OTHROP, LEB & SHEPAR0 CO.. BOSTON 
 
BRAVE HEART SERffiS 
 
 By Adcle E. Thompson 
 Illustrated T2mo Cloth $1.25 per volume 
 
 Betty Seldon, Patriot 
 
 A BOOK that is at the same time fascinating and noble. Historical 
 events are accurately traced leading up to the surrender of Corn- 
 wallis at Yorktown, with reunion and happiness for all who deserve it- 
 
 Brave Heart Elizabeth 
 
 IT is a story of the making of the Ohio frontier, much of it taken from 
 life, and the heroine one of the famous Zane family after which Zanes- 
 ville, O., takes its name. An accurate, pleasing, and yet at times intensely 
 thrilling picture of the stirring period of border settlement. 
 
 A Lassie of the Isles 
 
 THIS is the romantic story of Flora Macdonald, the lassie of Skye, who 
 aided in the escape of Charles Stuart, otherwise known as the 
 "Young Pretender.'* 
 
 Polly of the Pines 
 
 THE events of the story occur in the years 1775-82. Polly was an 
 orphan living with her mother's family, who were Scotch High- 
 landers, and for the most part intensely loyal to the Crown, Polly finds 
 the glamor of royal adherence hard to resist, but her heart turns towards 
 the patriots and she does much to aid and encourage them. 
 
 American Patty 
 
 A Story of 1812 
 
 PATTY is a brave, winsome girl of sixteen 
 whose family have settled across the Cana- 
 dian border and are living in peace and 
 prosperity, and on the best of terms with the 
 neighbors and friendly Indians. All this is 
 suddenly and entirely changed by the breaking 
 out of war, and unwillingness on the part of 
 her father and brother to serve against their 
 native land brings distress and deadly peril. 
 
 ADEIEE. THOMPSON 
 
 For sale by ail booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt 
 
 of price by the publishers 
 
 LOTHROP. LEE ^ SHEPARD CO., BOSTON 
 
A Little Maid of Boston Town 
 
 By MARGARET SIDNEY 
 
 12mo Cloth Illustrated by FRANK T. MERRILL $1.50 
 
 T 
 
 'HE opening chapters introduce us to 
 old Boston in England. Margaret 
 Sidney went there in 1907 and absorbed 
 the atmosphere of Cotton Mather's " St. 
 Botolph's Town," gathering for herselt 
 facts and traditions. Then *'St. Botolph's 
 Town " yields its scenic effects, and the 
 setting of the story is changed to Boston 
 Town of New England. 
 
 The story is absorbing, graphic, and 
 truly delightful, carrying one along till it 
 seems as if actual participation in the 
 events had been the lot of the reader. The same naturalness 
 that is so conspicuous in her famous "Pepper Books" marks 
 this latest story of Margaret Sidney's. She makes characters 
 live and speak for themselves. 
 
 It is an inspiring, patriotic story for the young, and contains striking 
 and realistic pictures of the times with which it deals. — Sunday School 
 Magazine^ Nashville^ 
 
 The author presents a story, but she gives a veracious picture of con- 
 ditions in the town of Boston during the Revolution. Parents who are 
 seeking wholesome books can place this in the front rank with entire 
 s2SQ\y .—Boston Globe. 
 
 Surely Margaret Sidney deserves the gratitude of many a child, and 
 grown-ups, too, for that matter, in telling in so charming, yet, withal, so 
 simple a manner, of these early days in this country. — Utzca Observer, 
 
 A really thrilling tale of the American Revolution. Interesting for 
 both old and young. — Minneapolis Journal. 
 
 For salo by alt booksellers or sent postpaid on receipt of 
 price by the publishers 
 
 LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., Bosto; 
 
OUR OWN LAND SBRIBS 
 
 By EVERETT T. TOMLINSON 
 Illustrated Cloth 12mo $1.50 each 
 
 FOUR BOYS IN THE YELLOWSTONE 
 
 FOUR boy friends who chance to represent respectively the northern, 
 southern, eastern, and western sections of our country, join in a trip up 
 the great Lakes to Duluth, where they take a private car furnished by the 
 father of one of them and go on to the world-famous Yellowstone Park. 
 
 FOUR BOYS IN THE LAND OF COTTON 
 
 THE four boys spend their next long vacation in a southern tour, which 
 begins in Virginia, thence to the Mississippi river, and on through 
 Arkansas to Indian Territory. They come to appreciate their own country 
 by seeing it, and learn history by visiting historic places. Above all, they 
 have a good time, and so will every one who reads this book. 
 
 FOUR BOYS ON THE HISSISSIPPI 
 
 THE four friends camp on the Arkansas river, and are so fascinated by 
 good comradeship and interesting sights and experiences that they 
 prolong their travelling by a most enviable trip on the mighty Mississippi. 
 
 FOUR BOYS AND A FORTUNE 
 
 ONE of the boys has learned of his inheritance 
 of a part of a coal mine in England. His 
 three friends accompany him on his voyage to the 
 land that ever will be of interest to the people of 
 the United States. 
 
 FOUR B0Y5 IN THE 
 YOSEHITE 
 
 THIS is a story of the experiences of four boys 
 who are spending their vacation in the 
 Yosemite Valley, a place called by some travellers 
 the most impressive and wonderful in the world. 
 In the story are adventures, mountain-climbing, 
 explorations, coaching, and exciting experiences 
 among the tremendous crags and cliffs. 
 
 
 
 FOUR BOYS IN THE 
 YOSEMIT^ 
 
 
 9 
 
 
 ^g'/ EVERETT T. TOTttlNSON 
 
 Por sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of 
 price by the publishers 
 
 LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., Boston 
 
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