12–18 September 1842

Albert got up at five o’clock to go out deer-stalking. I walked out with the Duchess of Norfolk. All the Highlanders (Lord Willoughby’s people, 110 in number), were drawn up in the court, young Mr. Willoughby and Major Drummond being at their head, and I walked round with Lady Willoughby. All the arms they wore belonged to Lord Willoughby; and there was one double-hilted sword, which had been at the battle of Bannockburn. I hear that at Dunkeld there were nearly 900 Highlanders, 500 being Athole men; and, altogether, with the various Highlanders who were on guard, there were 1,000 men. At length—a little before three—to my joy, Albert returned, dreadfully sunburnt, and a good deal tired; he had shot a stag. He said the exertion and difficulty were very great. He had changed his dress at a small farm-house. Glenartney is ten miles from Drummond Castle; he drove there. Campbell of Monzie (pronounced “Monie”), a young gentleman who has a place near here, went with him and was, Albert said, extremely active. To give some description of this curious sport, I will copy an extract from a letter Albert has written to Charles, giving a short account of it:— “Without doubt deer-stalking is one of the most fatiguing, but it is also one of the most interesting of pursuits. There is not a tree, or a bush behind which you can hide yourself.... One has, therefore, to be constantly on the alert in order to circumvent them; and to keep under the hill out of their wind, crawling on hands and knees, and dressed entirely in grey.” At half-past four we drove out with Lady Willoughby and the Duchess of Buccleuch. We drove through Fern Tower (belonging to the widow of the first Sir D. Baird), where we stopped the carriage; then to Abercairny, Major Moray’s. We got out there a moment to look at the very fine house he is building, then drove home by Monzie (Campbell of Monzie’s), and Sir W. Murray’s, and had a very good view of the Highland hills—a very fine day. At eight we dined. The Belhavens, Seftons, Cravens, Campbell of Monzie, and various others composed the party. After dinner more people came—several in kilts; and many reels were danced; Campbell of Monzie is an exceedingly good dancer. We danced one country dance—I with Lord Willoughby—and Albert with Lady Carington.

We had to start early, and therefore got up soon after seven o’clock; breakfast before eight. At nine we set off. The morning was very foggy and hazy. We passed near Lord Strathallan’s place and stopped for a moment where old Lady Strathallan was seated. Lord Willoughby rode with us the whole way till we arrived here. Soon after this we came to a very extraordinary Roman encampment at Ardoch, called the “Lindrum.” Albert got out; but I remained in the carriage, and Major Moray showed it to him. They say it is one of the most perfect in existence. We changed horses at Greenloaning, and passed through Dunblane. At twelve o’clock we reached Stirling, where the crowd was quite fearful, and the streets so narrow, that it was most alarming; and order was not very well kept. Up to the Castle, the road or street is dreadfully steep; we had a foot procession before us the whole way, and the heat was intense. The situation of the Castle is extremely grand; but I prefer that of Edinburgh Castle. Old Sir Archibald Christie explained everything to us very well. We were shown the room where James II. killed Douglas, and the window out of which he was thrown. The ceiling is most curious. A skeleton was found in the garden only twenty-five years ago, and there appears to be little doubt it was Douglas’s. From the terrace the view is very extensive; but it was so thick and hazy, that we could not see the Highland hills well. Sir A. Christie showed us the field of the battle of Bannockburn; and the “Knoll,” close under the walls of the Castle, from which the ladies used to watch the tournaments; all the embankments yet remain. We also saw Knox’s pulpit. We next passed through Falkirk, and changed horses at Callander Park, Mr. Forbes’s; both he and Sir Michael Bruce having ridden with us from beyond Stirling. We passed Lord Zetland on the road, and shortly before reaching Linlithgow, where we changed horses, Lord Hopetoun met us. Unfortunately, we did not see the Palace, which, I am told, is well worth seeing. The Duke of Buccleuch met us soon after this, and, accompanied by a large number of his tenants, rode with us on horseback to Dalkeith. We changed horses at Kirkliston, and lastly at the outskirts of Edinburgh. There were a good many people assembled at Edinburgh; but we were unable to stop. We reached Dalkeith at half-past five. The journey was 65 miles, and I was very tired, and felt most happy that we had safely arrived here.

This is our last day in Scotland; it is really a delightful country, and I am very sorry to leave it. We walked out and saw the fine greenhouse the Duke has built, all in stone, in the Renaissance style. At half-past three o’clock we went out with the Duchess of Buccleuch, only Colonel Bouverie riding with us. We drove through Melville Park, and through one of the little collier villages (of which there are a great many about Dalkeith), called Loanhead, to Rosslyn. We got out at the chapel, which is in excellent preservation; it was built in the fifteenth century, and the architecture is exceedingly rich. It is the burying place of the family of Lord Rosslyn, who keeps it in repair. Twenty Barons of Rosslyn are buried there in armour. A great crowd had collected about the chapel when we came out of it. From Rosslyn we then drove to Hawthornden, which is also beautifully situated at a great height above the river. To our great surprise we found an immense crowd of people there, who must have run over from Rosslyn to meet us. We got out, and went down into some of the very curious caves in the solid rock, where Sir Alexander Ramsay and his brave followers concealed themselves, and held out for so long a time. The Duchess told us there were many of these caves all along the river to Rosslyn. We came home through Bonnyrigg, another collier village, and through Dalkeith.

We breakfasted at half-past seven o’clock, and at eight we set off, with the Duchess of Buccleuch, Lord Liverpool, and Lord Hardwicke following. The ladies and equerries had embarked earlier. The day was very bright and fine. The arrangements in Edinburgh, through which we had to pass, were extremely well managed, and excellent order was kept. We got out of the carriage on the pier, and went at once on board the “Trident,” a large steamboat belonging to the General Steam Navigation Company. The Duke and Duchess of Buccleuch, Lady J. Scott, the Emlyns, Lord Cawdor, and Lady M. Campbell, came on board with us, and we then took leave of them. We both thanked the Duke and Duchess for their extreme kindness, attention, and hospitality to us, which really were very great—indeed we had felt ourselves quite at home at Dalkeith. As the fair shores of Scotland receded more and more from our view, we felt quite sad that this very pleasant and interesting tour was over; but we shall never forget it. On board the “Trident” (where the accommodation for us was much larger and better than on board the “Royal George,” and which was beautifully fitted up,) were Admiral Sir E. Brace, a pleasant old man, Commander Bullock, and three other officers. The “Rhadamanthus,” with some servants and carriages, set off last night, as well as the “Shearwater,” with Lord Liverpool and Lord Hardwicke on board. The “Salamander” (with Mr. and Mrs. Anson on board), the “Fearless,” and the “Royal George” yacht set off at the same time with us, but the wind being against us, we soon lost sight of the yacht, and, not very long after, of all our steamers, except the “Monarch,” which belongs to the General Steam Navigation Company, and had some of our horses on board. It started nearly at the same time, and was the only one which could keep up with us. We passed Tantallon Castle, a grand old ruin on the coast, and quite close to the Bass Rock, which is very fine, and nearly opposite Tantallon. It was entirely covered with sea-gulls and island geese, which swarm in thousands and thousands, quite whitening its sides, and hovering above and around it. At two o’clock we passed the famed St. Abb’s Head, which we had so longed to see on our first voyage to Scotland. I read a few stanzas out of Marmion, giving an account of the voyage of the nuns to Holy Island, and saw the ruins of the convent on it; then Bamborough Castle, and a little further on the Ferne Islands. We were very sorry to hear that poor Grace Darling had died the night before we passed the first time.

We heard that we had passed Flamborough Head at half-past five in the morning. The “Black Eagle” we passed at half-past eight last night, and we could only just see her smoke by the time we came on deck. At half-past nine I followed Albert on deck; it was a fine, bright morning. We had some coffee, and walked about; we were then quite in the open sea; it was very fine all day. At five we were close to the “Rhadamanthus,” which had been in sight all day. We had a very pleasant little dinner on deck, in a small tent made of flags, at half-past five. We passed Yarmouth at about a quarter to six—very flat—and looking, Albert said, like a Flemish town. We walked up and down on deck, admiring the splendid moonlight, which was reflected so beautifully on the sea. We went below at half-past seven, and I read the fourth and fifth cantos of The Lay of the Last Minstrel to Albert, and then we played on the piano.

At three o’clock in the morning we were awakened by loud guns, which, however, were welcome sounds to us, as we knew that we were at the Nore, the entrance of the river. About six we heard the “Rhadamanthus” had just passed us, and they said we were lying off Southend, in order to let the “Black Eagle” come up. It was a very bright day, though a little hazy. The shipping in the river looked very pretty as we passed along. At ten minutes past ten we got into the barge and landed. The Duchess of Norfolk and Miss Matilda Paget and the equerries were all there, but the others we knew nothing of. Sir James Clark had been on board the “Trident” with us. We drove off at once to the railway terminus, and reached Windsor Castle at half-past twelve o’clock.