From Howitt's Journal. VISITS TO REMARKABLE PLACES. BY WILLIAM HOWITT. GLAMMIS CASTLE. 1st Witch.—All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane of Glamis ! 2d Witch.-All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane of Cawdor! 3d Witch.-All hail, Macbeth! that shalt be king hereafter. THE words of Shakspeare start into the mind in many a place in the British Isles like the voice of some spirit reminding you that you are on historic or romantic ground. It was thus, as wandering some time ago in the North, I came near the town of Forfar, "Glamis and Thane of Cawdor!" I was not more than six miles from the ancient castle of Macbeth, a castle which came into his hands, only to lose it, by treason to his monarch. Glamis, or Glammis Castle, as it is now spelt, and Glammis as it is pronounced, lies in the beautiful vale of Strathmore, which gives its title to the family of Lyon, to whom Glammis belongs. The Lyon family is very ancient; it was allied in blood to the throne, and still ranks high in the Scottish peerage. The castle of Glammis stands in one of the finest parts of the vale, is a noble object, and is greatly visited, not only on account of its antiquity and its once commanding character, but as the scene of a royal murder, which time has invested with the interest of an old mystery. I walked from Forfar through a very pleasant country to Glammis, and as I lay under a tree by the road-side, leaning on my knapsack, a party of gay ladies passed me in a light cart, whom I judged to be travellers bound to see the castle and it proved so. I caught glimpses of this old house amid its woods as I went on again, standing in a stately solitude well according with its age and traditionary fame. It 'is surrounded by a park of one hundred and sixty acres. It is one of the most ancient in Scotland, and one of the finest of its extent, though a part of it has been pulled down. It is still, however, a fine object as you approach it, being lofty, and built in a noble baronial style, with pro jecting lantern-towers at the top, and the front emblazoned with various coats of arms in stone. It stands rather low, amid a great extent of woods, and must formerly have been a desperate solitude. The woods have within the last generation or two been a good deal thinned out to pay the enormous debts of its possessors, the Earls of Strathmore, the present earl being a descendant of the countess who married the notorious Stoney Bowes, whose history, and strange treatment of his lady, may be found in the second volume of my Visits to Remarkable Places. I believe he is her grandson. After passing from Macbeth, Glammis castle returned to the crown, and was granted to another party, and afterwards, by Robert II., to John Lyon, who married the king's second daughter by Elizabeth More, and became the founder of the family of Strathmore. But the estate did not descend undisturbed in the family to the present time. It was forfeited, in 1537, by the young and beautiful Lady Glammis, who was accused of witchcraft, condemned, and burnt on the Castle-hill of Edinburgh, in the midst of a vast crowd, a victim to the only witchcraft of youth and beauty. The great popular fame of the castle, however, is derived from the murder of king Malcolm Canmore, or Malcolm II., of which anon. The approach to the castle, after passing the lodge gates, is through the spacious park, which gives a fine effect to the old fabric which stands at the end of a straight avenue of half a mile in length. This avenue appears to have been of lime-trees, but you see, as you advance, how much the park has been robbed of its old wood to pay the enormous debts incurred by a late lord. The fine old limes are gone, and their place is supplied by younger ones, till you get within a few hundred yards of the end. Here the full-grown, noble limes were not only remaining, but in full flower. Imagine the difference of date from their flowering-time in the south. A month before, when I left London, their blossoms were over in that neighborhood-here, on the 20th of August, they were in full efflorescence, and diffusing their odor far and wide. Here the castle, standing on its open lawn, presented itself to the eye in all its ancient dignity, very lofty, grey, and impressive. The old courts and gardens, by which it was surrounded, have been removed, a thousand pities,—and there are now only two low, grey turrets, and a fence of palisades, stretching from one to the other, to separate the lawn in front of the castle from the park. Within this enclosure, the only object is a singular sort of stone ornament, consisting of four sitting lions, holding lyres in their paws, and on their heads other stone work, terminating in a point, and forming a strange sort of a pillar. The low door of the castle stands open, and as you approach, your eye wanders over the lofty front with all its sculptured escutcheons, its round projecting towers aloft, and its antique spires which surmount some of these. The low door admitted me to the interior, where all seemed to be of solid stone, and all was plainly, but cleanly whitewashed. Here you at once become aware of the immense strength and loftiness of the place. The walls are in some parts fifteen feet thick, and the height of the building is such, that there are 143 steps in the spiral staircase, which leads to the very top of the house. The steps of this staircase are laid regularly round a hollow pillar, and occupy a large tower which was built on purpose to receive them. It is said that a boy, once playing at the top of the pillar, fell down feet foremost, through the whole profound cylinder to the bottom, and was not in the least hurt. nient, for the young ladies, and one in particular, were most assiduous in pointing out everything to me, much to my distrac tion, for I was obliged, out of politeness, to go frequently away from what I was noting down, to observe what they thought most worthy of attention; nay, I was led away by the arm repeatedly, or gently pushed forward to see things that they feared I might miss. Well, in such very amusing company did I traverse the ancient Castle of Glammis, first up the winding stone stair, to the very top of the building, and noticed the rude old mode of ringing the bell at the top of the castle, by a rope which descended the hollow central cylinder of the staircase to the bottom. The house is but thinly furnished, and what is particularly interesting, entirely with the antique furniture. "The room into which the visitor is first ushered," says Robert Chambers in his picture of Scotland, “contains a large trunk filled with the state dresses of the former lords and ladies of Strathmore. These consist chiefly of coats, vests, breeches, and ladies' highheeled shoes, all richly adorned with gold and silver lace, and in a state of perfect preservation. Among those of other earls, may be seen the clothes of the amiable and unfortunate Earl Charles, who was stabbed accidentally by Carneggie, of Finhaven, in a drunken broil at Forfar, in 1728. Along with those of his betters, there are also shown the habiliments of the Fool of Glammis, who was the last of his class in Scotland, and living only about seventy years ago." In the room called Lord Glammis' room, is a pretty good picture of Christ replying to the question regarding Cæsar's Tribute, the artist unknown. In the room in which Malcolm was murdered, or at least died, the ceiling is of stucco in compartments, with the crown, the lion, and the initials of King Malcolm; and on the fireplace, the escutcheon of the royal arms. The bed is of crimson velvet emblazoned with the royal arms. The walls here are fifteen feet thick. I found the party which had passed me in the cart about to make the tour of the house, and a lady came up to me, and in a very friendly manner, accosted me as Mr. the member for the city of London! I assured her that I had not the honor to be that gentleman, but she did not seem to credit me, for she was confident that she saw me write my name and recollected me quite well. She was a Londoner, going with some young ladies to every place The tradition of the murder is, that Malin Scotland that their guide-book recom-colm was attacked by assassins on the mended, and I believe I passed with her for a very shrewd fellow, who would not be known, but still,-the representative of London! The effect of being taken for a live member of parliament was to me very inconve Hunter's Hill, which overlooks Glammis, and making his escape there, was again encountered in the park at a spot included now in the minister's garden. At both of these places there are antique obelisks, carved with hieroglyphical figures of ani 272 [Oct. mals, etc., supposed to commemorate the consisting of a gentleman in a close antique event. But he still escaped into his castle dress sitting; a young man standing behind alive, where he lived three days, and died him, and two boys of different ages before in the chamber now shown. It would ap- him, each with a dog, the younger one's a pear that the assassins followed him into lovely Italian greyhound. Behind the the very castle, which they plundered, and group appears the view of the castle in its in the armory they still show you a sword full and ancient extent, in the midst of its said to be the king's, and various brazen courts. dishes, and a Roman camp-kettle, which and no doubt contains a curious family This is a very curious old painting, were found in clearing the neighboring lake, history; but we could learn nothing of it. into which they had been thrown by the assassins in their flight, or had fallen out of their hands there, and had lain in the water above 700 years. ones, are those of several of the Scottish Amongst the pietures, besides family kings. There are also portraits of the Earl They used to show you the stains of blood cut out for a persecutor; Lords Ormond, of Lauderdale, a grim-looking fellow, well on the floor in the good old way, though Middleton, and Dundee, of the same era, the floor has been three times renewed since that of Charles II. There is a very fine the event; but the present housekeeper is portrait of a Countess of Cassillis and too modernized for that, and says, "these Johnny Faa, both in gipsy habits, and rewere old ghost-stories," and that the origi- ferring to a common gipsy love story. The nal floor was of stone. dition that the famous "Earl Beardie," of Vandyke, must certainly have been a woman There is also a tra- countess, whose portrait is said to be by whom there is a portrait at Abbotsford, the with a history. The expression of the counEarl of Crawford, famous for his rebellion tenance indicates great will and little conagainst James II., of Scotland, and popu- science, but it is a master-piece of painting. larly known as "the wicked laird,' playing at cards in the castle, and being a fine-looking fellow, with brown flowing was There is a portrait shown as Claverhouse, warned to give over, as he was losing dread- locks, but still very different to the portrait fully, swore an oath that he would play till at Abbotsford, and to Scott's description. the day of judgment; whereupon the devil I fancy that the house-keeper shows the suddenly made his appearance, and as sud- wrong one, and that a smaller one, hanging den disappearance, with old Beardie and all below this, is the right one. his company. The room has never been ing-room, she showed Charles II., with In the drawfound again, but the people believe firmly Nell Gwynne on the one side, and the that old Beardie and his company are play- Duchess of Cleveland, if I recollect right, ing on, and will play till the day of judg- on the other, as Bloody Mary (poor Nell ment; and on stormy nights they are heard Gwynne), and the Countess of Chesterfield. stamping and swearing in their rage over I was obliged to set her right, and she said their play. In the armory, amongst various old arms, they show you a sword called that of Macbeth, and the shirt of mail which he wore after his criminal ascension of the throne, as well as the armor of the Earl of Strathmore, who fell fighting for the Chevalier at Sheriff-Muir. with many gentlemen, and that that very The main room of the house, however, is the dining-hall. This has a vaulted roof, also stuccoed, and divided into compart-up with tapestry that has been in the house This drawing-room they were just fitting ments, filled with the heads of kings, the for centuries. thistles, fleur-de-lis, lions, etc. Besides these things, there telpiece is one of those old stuccoed affairs said to belong to King Malcolm, and such The man- are old chairs, and cabinets, and the like, of the date of the older Hardwick-hall, but ancients, but probably many of these ascripnot half so old as this castle itself, with a tions are apocryphal. huge figure on each side, naked to the waist, said to have been occupied one night by There is an old bed, and then cased in a square pilaster. In Prince Charlie, and the following one by this room are many valuable paintings, as the Duke of Cumberland, in pursuit of him. well as some very curious ones. at the head of the room a large family piece ciations, are the most impressive and curious. There is But the house itself, its general air and as The chapel is a curious relic of the papal is the Dundee and Newtyle railway, the times, so rare in Scotland. Except for the oddest of all speculations, and of all railwork of time, it remains much as it was left ways. It runs from Dundee to this parkat the Reformation. It is divided into sin-side, ten miles or so, and ends here, that is, gularly strong, old, latticed seats, or pews. nowhere, and in nothing. It sets out by The apostles are painted on the walls, and mounting the highest hill above the town, around the ceiling are square compartments, to get to the level, they tell you, but you each containing a painting from the life of never find any level at all, for you are conChrist. But one of the most singular things stantly reminded of the old nursery rhyme, to be seen anywhere, is a representation of "here we go up, up, up; and here we go the Divinity, consisting of a triangle having down, down, down, O!" They drag you a circle in each corner, and another in the up the steep hill at Dundee, by means of a centre, inscribed with the word Deus, with stationary engine. You go on, and find no lines communicating with each, and con- place that it goes to, except a very small necting the whole into one general mystery. hamlet called Newtyle. In this short course This hung in one corner, over an altar. Be- it has four steep inclined planes, where you sides these, there are various other attri- are dragged up or let down by ropes and butes of a Catholic chapel, and the tatters stationary engines. From Newtyle to the of the chaplain's gown, which has never park-side of Glammis, a horse conveys the been removed from the chapel since he last took it off. train of one carriage-for, of course, the engine at the top of the Newtyle inclined plane cannot offer its services to Glammis. The view from the leads is vast and noble. On the north rear the wild Gram- So, in the wood at the back of Glammis pians; westward you are said to see as far park I found about half-a-dozen passengers as Stirling; and amongst other objects was waiting for this train, sitting in very Arcapointed out the hill of Dunsinane, which dian style on some green knolls under some shows its green and flat top between other fine larch trees. They were hoping for, hills at seventeen miles distance. The blue rather than expecting the carriage, for they hills of Athol mingle with the far sky, and said it sometimes did not think it worth only six miles off stands the castle of Air- while to come! So here we sate, and I lie, where the Ladie of Airlie, as the ballad chatted with the country people, the hopinghas it, was pulled out of the house by the to-be passengers, and we became very merMacgregors, in the absence of her husband, ry. We talked of the habits and food of and the castle set fire to. This is the lady the peasantry, and I told them of having from whom, on the mother's side, claimed once made my breakfast off their oatmeal to be descended that old Jamie Stuart of porridge, and slept all day after it. This Berwick-the old man whom I found near sent them into fits of laughter. They said there, at the age of 112, and who lived to they should be prettily off if that were the be 115, having, meantime, in his last days, case with them, and they must then eat it through my notice of him, I am glad to say, only to supper. We also congratulated ourreceived a good deal of public attention, selves on there being no danger of an exand various presents from different noblemen plosion, our train having to be only drawn and gentlemen, including 51. from the queen. by a horse; and over this, too, they were Such is Glammis Castle. Around it lie very merry. Good, simple souls, sitting in many places of interest, but none of greater a wood by way of station, waiting for the than itself, and you may imagine that this old haunt of royal murder and other tradition is an awful place to the common people. Few of these that I conversed with in the neighborhood had ever ventured to visit it, or even to enter its old park and embosoming woods. arrival of a horse train, that might possibly come, how easily were they diverted. But this pastoral scene came to an end. A horn, and not the whistle of the engine, announced the approach of the carriage, and presently a dark object discovered itself on the line, afar off, preceded by a white speck, which Yet perhaps the most singular thing of gradually grew, not into a column of steam, all is the abrupt manner in which the active but into a white horse. On the carriage, and unceremonious tide of modern progress when it arrived, stood emblazoned-so that has dashed itself up to the very park walls no simple soul might be imposed on-1st of this old place. Close behind this wall, Class, one shilling; 2d Class, eightpence, at within less than a quarter of a mile from i. e. to Newtyle; and the Arcadians all the castle itself, is a railway station. This merrily entered, and so adieu to Glammis. VOL. XII. No. II. 18 From Chambers's Journal. THE TWO SISTERS. "As mine own shadow was this child to me, A second self, far dearer, and more fair." SHELLEY. I was born in the village of Offingham, of which my father was the vicar. I have lived long, and have visited many lovely spots, and have been the inmate of many happy homes ; but never have I seen on earth a paradise like this, my early home. The village was a small sequestered spot, far from the bustling world; our house was an old-fashioned stone dwelling, with deep mullion windows, tall chimneys, and small projecting turrets; a broad terrace ran along the front, from which a bank of soft green turf sloped to the lawn beyond. The house was covered to its roof with myrtles and roses, and the garden was a wilderness of sweet flowers and shrubs. Yet lovely as was the scene without, within there was a far greater charm-peace and content reigned undisturbed. I have often since wondered whether my parents, up to the time at which my tale begins, had known what sorrow was; my remembrance of them is like that of a soft yet brilliant evening sky, where not a cloud chequers the deep blue vault of heaven, or casts a shadow on the earth beneath. I cannot recall one look of sadness on their faces, or remember one anxious or discordant word. Heaven's own peace brooded o'er the house. แ room. A strange woman opened it seeing me, she bent down and whispered, Go to bed, miss, your mamma is very ill." But I would not be repulsed; and pushing past her, entered the darkened chamber. When my eyes became accustomed to the dim light, I saw my mother lying very still and pale, and my father sitting on the bed beside her, with his head buried in his hands; on a chair by the fire sat my nurse, with a baby on her knee. I did not cry, though my little heart was bursting with emotion; but creeping gently round the bed, I said, "Harris, may I speak to mamma?" I think my father must have heard my voice; for with a convulsive sob he said, "Take her away!" I was led back to my room, and desired to lie still until Harris came to me I cried bitterly when left alone, but fell asleep while listening for her step. It is needless to dwell on that time. By degrees I was made to understand the truth: my mother had given birth to a little girl, and expired a few hours afterwards. It is difficult, even for a mind inured to these bereavements, to comprehend at first their full extent; how much less can a child realize the truth of such afflictions. They told me that my mother was deadthat I should see her no more on earth. I saw the hearse that bore her away; her chair stood empty by the fireside, and I no But sorrow comes to all sooner or later; longer heard her sweet voice in the house and how heavily it falls on the heart grown and yet I believed that I should see her old in happiness and prosperity! Life again; and often in the daytime I went to opened brightly on me amidst these influen- her favorite haunts in the garden, hoping to ces a happier, gayer child never gladden- find her there; and whenever, in the sied its parents' hearts. Soon after Ihad at-lence of the evening, I could escape from tained my seventh year, was awakened observation, I stole into her room with an early one morning by an unusual commotion assured certainty that she would have come in the house. People were hurrying past back: not finding her as I expected, I lay my door; I heard voices speaking in sub- down on her bed and cried bitterly. dued tones in the passage, and amongst them recognised my father's, giving hurried directions to the servants. An undefined sense of coming evil fell on my spirit; Ilay still, scarcely daring to breathe, watching with a beating heart the time when my nurse would come to dress me. Several hours must have elapsed; all was so silent, that even to me, young as I was, the suspense became insupportable: I sprang from my bed, and stealing along the corridor, knocked softly at the door of my mother's Sorrow cannot, however, dwell long in the heart of a child; and mine was soon dispelled by the smiles of my little sister. I could not understand the silent abstraction of my father; his grief was too deep to seek relief from any earthly source; he shut himself up in his study, and allowed no one to enter; he never asked for his children, and I observed that the baby was carefully kept from his sight. Long and fearful must have been the struggle in my father's soul: the wife who had cheered and blest |
