Contributor.

Southern Cross, Volume 1, Issue 28, 14 October 1893, Page 3

Contributor.

TISIT TO SCOTLAND. ONE OE HER STATELY HOMES. (By W. H. Mathieson.) The village of Thornhill gives ■one a vivid, idea of the old home land. Every house in the main street was built long before Hew Zealand was populated, and many of them date "back to a time prior to its discovery. Outwardly, there is here very little difference as compared with one hundred years ago. The inhabitants partake of the simplicity of their forefathers, the children naturally copy their parents, and so the older order is perpetuated. Sir Walter Scott, in “ Old Mortality,” writing - on this theme, says : —Let the tide of the world wax or wane as it will, enough will be found to fill the places chance Tenders vacant, and in the usual occupations and amusements of life, human beings will succeed each other as leaves the same tree, with the same individual difference and the same general resemblance.” The village boasts of a double line of lime trees along the principal street, with a high fence in front to protect them from the knives of the callants. Though not a large place, Thornhill can trace its name back for 500 years. It formed part of the barony of Morton, and successive Dukes of Buccleuch have made it what it is—“a quiet, respectable little place.” It has a population of 1848, and possesses five churches, two banks, and an excellent museum. The lime trees I have mentioned were planted 30 years ago by order of the Dowager Duchess. I could not find out w'here the tree was first imported from, but this I can vouch for—it is admirably suited for the purposes of shelter, and is a decidedly pretty tree as well. It has a leaf not unlike the walnut but smaller. It produces very pretty flower - , which were out in all their beauty at the time of my visit. While in Thornhill, I had the honour of being made a Mason in the ancient lodge in which my father was initiated somefiftyyears ago; and,such is the vitality of the residents of this charming and healthy locality, that some of the present office-bearers had been acquainted with and remembered him quite well. After the ceremony, we spent a social hour together, and “your own” sang and recited to a most appreciative audience. Regret was expressed by the office-bearers that I could not stay long enough to meet the full lodge, assuring me on their behalf a most hearty i-eception. On a. lovely afternoon in June, I started to chive with Miss Dobie to Drumlamig Castle, one of the residences of His Grace, the Duke of Buccleuch. The heavy showers that had fallen a few days before had revived the grass, which was now a vivid green. The road, like all things about this estate, was perfect, and the perfume from the wild flowers growing on each side, the scent of the new-mown hay, and the hum of the bees gave one a peaceful feeling. The road here is almost enclosed by trees growing on each side, affording - a most welcome shade from the ardent rays of the sun, while at every turn you get a glimpse of ever-changing scenery —of hill and dale, stream and forest, all combining - to make it one of the most lovely drives imaginable. The road follows the course of the winding - ISTith, but high above it —and looking down into its clear'dejiths the trout could be seen lazily disportingthemselves in the snnshine. The words of the old song, “ Bonny Scotland, I adore thee. How I wander gladly o’er thee ” came forcibly to my mind, and I would have sung them aloud but was afraid I would frighten the young lady. \Ye passed on the road Wapton House and grounds, the seat of the chamberlain to His Grace, J. H. Dickson, Esq, and after passing Carron Bridge we got a glimpse of Holestane, tbe home farm of the Duke. This farm has a wo rid-wide reputation for breeding black Gallo-

way catble, and I bad the pleasure of looking - at them. They reminded me forcibly of the Edendale herd, and 1 found out afterwards that they were imported from this famous stock. They have also a great name for pure Clydesdale horses, and great credit is due to the Duke’s manager, Mr McKeifeie, a relation, by the way, of Mr Brydone, late of Edendale. At every vantage point where a good view can he obtained of the surrounding country, the trees are cut away, and any one driving tip this road has an opportunity of seeing this castle and grounds from a hundred different aspects —all beautiful.

A little further on and we come to the road called the Queen’s Drive. This was made specially in honour of her most gracious majesty. On the opposite side of the road the Duchess’ green drive is seen, which leads under the trees for miles and miles. It is 90 miles long, and it is kept as close cropped as a lawn, and is quite as well looked after. I had a look at one field about a hundred acres in extent, covered with breeding boxes, for the pheasants, where thousands are bred annually. We now came in sight of the castle —a truly magnificent building. It is built on the site of another castle that dated away back to tbe Herman conquest. The present castle was founded in 1679, and was finished in 1689. After its erection Duke William wrote out on the bundle of tradesmen’s accounts presented — “ The deil pike out his e’en, wha looks herein.” Bonny Prince Charlie and his men spent a night in it in 1745. I must pause one moment to say that it is absolutely necessary if you have a nice house that you have suitable grounds to set it off with. How often you see this exemplified in every day life. One instance comes to my mind’s eye. Place the house on the flat that Mr L. Rodgers built on an eminence with all the accessories of a commanding position, and you would not know it as the same place. If viewed from the standpoint alone, Drumtanrig Castffi lias the most beautiful setting in the whole world. Here you have the prodigal gifts of nature in her most generous moods, assisted by art and a lavish expenditure of money to heighten the effect, so blended that you cannot tell where nature leaves off and art comes in. Like a grand piece of music, everything is in harmony. How I do not wish it to be understood that I am attempting to what is vulgarly called “ pileing it on.” The hills and valleys of the Hith, quite apart from their historic associations, have been famous for their scenery for centuries, and are the resort every year of thousands of tourists from England and the Continent, who are lovers of the beautiful, and when these beauties become better known, this place will yet become more famous as the “ Brighton of Scotland,” as her residents love to call it. The castle itself is of no particular style of architecture, solidity is marked in every feature of its massive structure. It is kept in very good and will likely last for centuries. The castle is open two days a -week for visitors. On one of these days I sent in my card, and the house servant (Mr Johnston) kindly showed me through the castle. It contains about 60 rooms —some of them of very large dimensions. It presented a rather deserted appearance as the family only live in it a few months in the autumn. It contains a historical galley of paintings of priceless value in a tine state of preservation. The portrait of the first Duke of Queensloerry, who built the castle, looks as fresh and clear as if jiainted yesterday. The family, I could not but note, have a striking resemblance to one another—so much so that it was not necessary to read the inscriptions at the bottom of the pictures. One fact which impressed me very much is the great influence the aristocracy wield in the home land. Ho one who has lived long in the colony could form any conception of this. I feel pleased to say that in this instance at

least ifc is exerted for good. | Tlie present Duke has the name of being a man who feels the immense responsibility of his position, and uses it for the good of his tenantry and the uplifting of the masses. It is only necessary to see the homes of his servants, from the highest to the lowest, to prove this. There is great competition, and it is a position very much prized to get a farm or be employed as a servant on his large estate. If there were more of the Duke’s kind in the world strikes would be unknown. But the Duke does more than this —he sets an example (which is far better than precept) of a consistent Christian life. If the aristocracy only realised their immense responsibility in that respect alone, how much better would the world be ? But to return to the portrait gallery. To simply name the different portraits would take up half a column. Suffice it to say that they are those of men and women of note who have had their share from the high position they held in the State, in making the history of their time. I was shown Queen Ann’s couch in fairly good preservation. The chapel itself would hold a good sized congregation. Every room in the castle is on a grand scale, befitting the rank of their il lustrous occupants. They only come here three months in the year, in the shooting season, and the trophies of the chase are everywhere visible. Secret doors lead everywhere, showing the troublous times in which this castle was built. I was taken up a long flight of stairs to the roof. The sight from the turrets is simply beyond description. The gardens are the second largest in Scotland, if not in the world. The flower garden on the west side is an exact pattern of the Duchess’ Paisley shawl, 500 times magnified. The beautiful clumps of trees, many of them 200 years old, of beech, oak, and elm, give a grace to the landscape that to me was simply enchanting. The gardens are laid out in a succession of terraces, all beautifully kept, while stretching along the banks of the Hith. The slopes near the castle are clothed with plantations of pines and clumps of hard wood trees growing right down to the water’s edge. The Duke can stand on the top of his castle, and gaze over about 25 square miles of as fair a prospect as mortal eyes have ever looked on, and can, like Bobinson Crusoe, exclaim—- “ I’m monarch of all I survey. My right there is none to dispute,” Standing here I discovered fresh beauties every moment, but had reluctantly to tear myself away. Beaching the gardens by a succession of stone steps, I luckily met the head gardener, Mr Thomson, who under a a reserved manner proved to have a warm heart, and under whose guidance, I went over the gardens. He has 41 gardeners under him, and in addition to these 100 foresters or woodmen are constantly employed on the estate. This will give readers some idea of the extent of the gardens. The men have eleven miles of grass edges to cut, and thirteen miles of gravel walks to keep clean. The circular walks are lovety. The waste places have been planted with laurels. Among other trees I saw a beautiful weeping beech, over 200 years old, and very rare. They have a fine summerhouse here —the most beautiful I have ever seen. It is covered outside with moss, and is octagon in shape. It is double sided, the walls being inlaid with beautiful woods, and the inside stripped with saw-dust, which is a non-conductor of heat, so that the place, even in the height of summer, is delightfully cool. The seats are of hazel twigs woven into beautiful patterns, and the floor has been laid down in cement and covered with blocks of larch in octogan shape, giving the effect of a tesselaled pavement. It must have cost a great deal of money, but it is like everything else here —on a magnificent scale. From this charming spot a fine view is had of the Mare burn and the valley leading to it. I was shown through the vineries, and saw Black Hamburg and Muscat of Alexandria

grapes. I noticed that the hot waterpipes were sprinkled with Sicilian sulphur, which Mr Thomson explained kills off the red spider, so destructive to vines, especially in hot climates. 1 saw also the Gros Colmar, a French grape, a large berried ( variety, with good keeping qualities. It ripens in September, and can be used in Sejffember. It is the largest grape I ever saw, and is the one most extensively grown for the London market. (To be continued.)