National Geographic : 1957 Oct
4/1 Dame Flora proudly pointed out a framed letter from Sir Walter Scott, another Dun vegan guest. It is an apology for the poet's tardiness in acknowledging the hospitality of an earlier chief of Clan MacLeod. In August, 1956, Queen Elizabeth, touring the Hebrides, lunched at the castle on a day of sunshine and heather tang. As we lingered in the big portrait-lined dining room over coffee and Dame Flora's lively talk, the clock struck two, the hour for the castle's afternoon opening. The first cars had arrived, and tourists were already enter- "What a Poem Is That Princes Street!" Wrote Alexander Smith of Edinburgh "The puppets of the busy, many-coloured hour move about on its pavement, while across the ravine Time has piled up the Old Town, ridge on ridge, gray as a rocky coast washed and worn by the foam of centuries; peaked and jagged by gable and roof; windowed from basement to cope.... The New is there looking at the Old. Two Times are brought face to face, and are yet separated by a thousand years." At left the domed Bank of Scotland rises above the low, columned National Gallery. St. Giles' "airy crown" shows beyond the bank. Equestrian statue at right memorializes the Royal Scots Greys who fell in the South African War. ing the outer hall. We rose to take our leave. Next morning in radiant sunshine we ferried back to the mainland and headed through Glen Moriston, where Prince Charles lay con cealed for a week after his defeat at Culloden. Though there was a price of £30,000 on his head, not a Highlander would betray him. One follower, Roderick Mackenzie, who closely resembled his leader, was captured and fatally wounded. As he died, he cried out, "You have killed your prince!" His captors, joyfully believing they had indeed taken Prince Charles, cut off his head. Highland ers who knew the truth guarded the secret, and for some time pursuing English troops gave up the search for Bonnie Prince Charlie. Eventually he escaped to France. Though he lived on for another 42 years, never again did he seriously threaten to recapture the throne of his ancestors. Tree Wears a Poker in Rob Roy Country Soon we came to Aberfoyle in the country of Scott's Rob Roy, a story of Jacobite in trigues starring the historical outlaw, Rob Roy Macgregor. A delightful character in the novel is Bailie Nicol Jarvie, who on one occasion snatched up a hot poker to repel his assailants. Aberfoyle today has a hotel named the Bailie Nicol Jarvie (page 465)-and in a tree near by hangs a poker. Miss Revis and I had a rendezvous, of course, with the native place of J. M. Barrie, whose Peter Pan has beguiled generations of children-and their parents (page 488). So one day we stood at the top of the brae at Kirriemuir, a town in County Angus, which I had visited in my stroll to John o' Groat's.* Barrie's Kirriemuir birthplace, in a section known as "The Tenements," belongs to Scot * See "A Stroll to John o' Groat's," by Isobel Wylie Hutchison, NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE, July, 1956.