Letters from England [39]
the Tay seeing Birnam Wood and Dunsinane on our way up to Dunkeld, near to which is the fine seat of the Duke of Athol. We took a delightful walk in the beautiful grounds, and went on to Blair Athol to sleep. This is the chief residence of the Duke of Athol and he has here another house and grounds very pretty though not as extensive as those at Dunkeld. . . . When the innkeeper found who we were he insisted on sending a message to the Duke who sent down an order to us to drive up Glen Tilt and met us there himself. We entered through the Park and followed up the Tilt. Nothing could be more wild than this narrow winding pass which we followed for eight miles till we came to the Duke's forest lodge. Here were waiting for us a most picturesque group in full Highland dress: the head stalker, the head shepherd, the kennel keepers with their dogs in leashes, the piper, etc., etc. They told us that the Duke had sent up word that we were coming and he would soon be there himself.
In a few moments he appeared also in full Highland costume with bare knees, kilt, philibeg, etc. He told us he had then on these mountains 15,000 head of dear, and thought we might like to see a START, as it is called. The head stalker told him, however, that the wind had changed which affects the scent, and that nothing could be done that day. The Duke tried to make us amends by making some of his people sing us Gaelic songs and show us some of the athletic Highland games. The little lodge he also went over with us, and said that the Duchess came there and lived six or seven weeks in the autumn, and that the Duke and Duchess of Buccleuch rented it for many years while he was a minor. If you could see the tiny little rooms, you would be astonished to find what the love of sport can do for these people who possess actual palaces.
After dining again upon salmon and grouse at the pretty little inn, we took a post chaise to go on to Taymouth, a little village adjoining Lord Breadalbane's place. We did not arrive at the inn till after eight and found it completely full. . . . We were sent to the schoolmaster's to sleep in the smallest of little rooms, with a great clock which ticked and struck so loud that we were obliged to silence it, to the great bewilderment, I dare say, of the scholars the next day. Before we were in bed, there was a knock at the door, which proved to be from Lord Breadalbane's butler, to say that he had been commissioned to enquire whenever we arrived at the inn, as his Lordship had heard that we were in Scotland and wished us to make them a visit.
Next morning before we were up came a note from Lord Breadalbane urging us to come immediately to the Castle. . . . Taymouth Castle, though not more than fifty years old, has the air of an old feudal castle. . . . As we were ushered up the magnificent staircase through first a large antechamber, then through a superb hall with lofty ceiling glowing with armorial bearings, and with the most light and delicate carving on every part of the oaken panelling, then through a long gallery, of heavier carving filled with fine old cabinets, into the library, it seemed to me that the whole Castle was one of those magical delusions that one reads of in Fairy Tales, so strange did it seem to find such princely magnificence all alone amid such wild and solitary scenes. I had always the feeling that it would suddenly vanish, at some wave of an enchanter's wand, as it must have arisen also. The library is by far the finest room I ever saw. Its windows and arches and doorways are all of a fine carved Gothic open work as light as gossamer. One door which he lately added cost a thousand pounds, the door alone, not the doorway, so you can judge of the exquisite workmanship. Here Lady Breadalbane joined us, whom I had never before met. . . . During dinner the piper in full costume was playing the pibroch in a gallery outside the window, and after he had done a band, also in full Highland dress, played some of the Italian, German as well as Scotch music, at just an agreeable distance.
In a few moments he appeared also in full Highland costume with bare knees, kilt, philibeg, etc. He told us he had then on these mountains 15,000 head of dear, and thought we might like to see a START, as it is called. The head stalker told him, however, that the wind had changed which affects the scent, and that nothing could be done that day. The Duke tried to make us amends by making some of his people sing us Gaelic songs and show us some of the athletic Highland games. The little lodge he also went over with us, and said that the Duchess came there and lived six or seven weeks in the autumn, and that the Duke and Duchess of Buccleuch rented it for many years while he was a minor. If you could see the tiny little rooms, you would be astonished to find what the love of sport can do for these people who possess actual palaces.
After dining again upon salmon and grouse at the pretty little inn, we took a post chaise to go on to Taymouth, a little village adjoining Lord Breadalbane's place. We did not arrive at the inn till after eight and found it completely full. . . . We were sent to the schoolmaster's to sleep in the smallest of little rooms, with a great clock which ticked and struck so loud that we were obliged to silence it, to the great bewilderment, I dare say, of the scholars the next day. Before we were in bed, there was a knock at the door, which proved to be from Lord Breadalbane's butler, to say that he had been commissioned to enquire whenever we arrived at the inn, as his Lordship had heard that we were in Scotland and wished us to make them a visit.
Next morning before we were up came a note from Lord Breadalbane urging us to come immediately to the Castle. . . . Taymouth Castle, though not more than fifty years old, has the air of an old feudal castle. . . . As we were ushered up the magnificent staircase through first a large antechamber, then through a superb hall with lofty ceiling glowing with armorial bearings, and with the most light and delicate carving on every part of the oaken panelling, then through a long gallery, of heavier carving filled with fine old cabinets, into the library, it seemed to me that the whole Castle was one of those magical delusions that one reads of in Fairy Tales, so strange did it seem to find such princely magnificence all alone amid such wild and solitary scenes. I had always the feeling that it would suddenly vanish, at some wave of an enchanter's wand, as it must have arisen also. The library is by far the finest room I ever saw. Its windows and arches and doorways are all of a fine carved Gothic open work as light as gossamer. One door which he lately added cost a thousand pounds, the door alone, not the doorway, so you can judge of the exquisite workmanship. Here Lady Breadalbane joined us, whom I had never before met. . . . During dinner the piper in full costume was playing the pibroch in a gallery outside the window, and after he had done a band, also in full Highland dress, played some of the Italian, German as well as Scotch music, at just an agreeable distance.