Hill Country Living
By Coulter Fussell
It’s a Wagner Week and here is the first half of a letter from Corinne to her dad, Daniel Wagner. Corinne is on a college trip to Scotland! The letter is long so part two will publish next week.
July 26, 1902
Dear father,
We have shaken the dust of Edinburgh with great regret and started out on our tour of Scotland. The Shepherd’s certainly made our visit in Edinburgh a pleasant one and it was a novel and interesting experience visiting the Scottish Capital. At the various gatherings of the class we met innumerable Bruces, Douglasses, MacLeods Macgregors, MacFaes, Mac-Anything you can think of.
We visited Holyrood Palace, the home of the old Scottish kings – associated with the tragic history of Mary, Queen of Scots, and still used as the residence of royalty when any of them visit Edinburgh. The state apartments, however, are not ordinarily shown to the public, but Mr. Stewart a gentleman we met one night at a party, and who is Royal Custodian of the Palace, gave us permission to go through the private rooms. Very few people even in Edinburgh have seen them. Three of the rooms used by the Prince Consort had not had been opened and used since his death, until the last year, since the accession of his Majesty King Edward.
We had a beautiful drive this morning in the Trussachs (or bristling country,) a romantic and richly wooded glen at the end of Loch Katrine. The woods were so thick you could hardly see through them and the coach went winding up hills and around curves in a most picturesque way. Then we had a steamboat ride on Loch Katrine, the scene of Sir Walter Scott’s “Lady of the Lake.” Close by the hotel in the glen which used to be the home of the McGregors were where Rob Roy lived. This whole country is free of association with their dashing hero. Yesterday we saw Duchray castle, from which he escaped by jumping out of a window.
Heather is just beginning to bloom. It is a little dark shrub which clings closely to the gray rocky hillsides and is a beautiful purple. White heather is very scarce and finding a piece of the white is said to bring good luck. Our driver yesterday had a tiny piece stuck in his hat.
We are trying to learn Scots. It consists in rolling, or as they say curling, the R’s until your head fairly buzzes, and in pronounciating the “ch” as the Germans do. An Englishman can’t say “loch” correctly, he always says “lock,” and you have to pronounce the word correctly to win your way with the Scots.
We had intended to go to Loch Lomond to spend Sunday but the rain will keep us here. So far, we have not been bothered by much bad weather, notwithstanding the reputation of the English lakes and Scotland for rain. I can hardly believe that this is July. We have a fire in the room and all our winter clothes on — just the things I wore in Plainfield all last January and February and I’m not too warm either. On the steamer this morning, I wore a flannel waist, a coat, a raincoat, and a heavy cape besides winter under wear. How is that for July?
[End of Part 1]
