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.I have seen nothing in England which compares in splendor with the state which is kept up here.
We passed Wednesday and Thursday here most agreeably,and we rode or walked during the whole days.Lord Breadalbane,by the way,has just been appointed Lord High Chamberlain to the Queen in place of Lord Spencer.I am glad of this because we are brought often in contact with the Lord Chamberlain,but it is very strange to me that a man who lives like a king,and through whose dominions we travelled a hundred miles from the German Ocean to the Atlantic,can be Chamberlain to any Queen.These feudal subordinations we republicans cannot understand....We stopped at the little town of Oban.After reading our letters and getting a dinner,we went out just before sunset for a walk.
We wished much to see the ruins of Dunolly.We passed the porter's lodge and found ourselves directly in the most picturesque grounds on the very shore of the ocean and with the Western Islands lying before us.Mr.Bancroft sent in his card,which brought out instantly the key to the old castle,and in a few moments Capt.
MacDougal and Mr.Phipps,a brother of Lord Normanby's,joined us.
They pointed out the interesting points in the landscape,the Castle of Ardtornish,the scene of Lord of the Isles,etc.,in addition to the fine old ruin we came to see.We lingered till the lighthouses had begun to glow,and I was reminded very much of the scenery at Wood's Hole,which I used to enjoy so much,only that could not boast the association with poetry and feudal romance.We then went into the house,and found a charming domestic circle in full evening dress with short sleeves,so that my gray travelling cloak and straw bonnet were rather out of place.Here were Mrs.Phipps,and Miss Campbell,her sister,daughters of Sir Colin Campbell,and to my great delight,Captain MacDougal brought out the great brooch of Lorn,which his ancestor won from Bruce and the story of which you will find in the Lord of the Isles.It fastened the Scotch Plaid,and is larger than a teacup.He described to me the reverential way in which Scott took it in both hands when he showed it to him.The whole evening was pleasant and the more so from being unexpected....One little thing which adds always to the charm of Scotch scenery is the dress of the peasantry.One never sees the real Highland costume,but every shepherd has his plaid slung over one shoulder,making the most graceful drapery.This,with the universal Glengarry bonnet,is very pretty.
At Glasgow we intended to pay a visit of a day to the historian Alison,but found letters announcing Governor Davis's arrival in London with Mr.Corcoran and immediately turned our faces homeward.
We were to have passed a week on our return amidst the lakes,and Iprotested against going back to London without one look at least.
So we stopped at Kendal on Saturday,took a little carriage over to Windermere and Ambleside and passed the whole evening with the poet and Mrs.Wordsworth,at their own exquisite home on Rydal Mount.At ten o'clock we went from there to Miss Martineau,who has built the prettiest of houses in this valley near to Mrs.Arnold at Fox Howe.
As we had only one day we made an arrangement with Miss Martineau to go with us and be our guide,and set out the next day at six o'clock and went over to Keswick to breakfast.From thence we went to Borrowdale,by the side of Derwentwater,and afterward to Ulswater and home by the fine pass of Kirkstone.On my return,I found the Duke and Duchess of Argyle had been to see us.
The time of closing the despatch bag has come and I must hurry over my delight at the scenery of the lakes.I could have spent a month there,much to my mind.We arrived home on Monday and early next morning came Mr.Davis and Mr.Corcoran.They went to see the Parliament prorogued in person by the Queen.
