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The Project Gutenberg eBook of Bonnie
Scotland and what we owe her
 This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United
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Title: Bonnie Scotland and what we owe her

Author: William Elliot Griffis

Release date: September 6, 2023 [eBook #71578]

Language: English

Original publication: Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1916

Credits: Sonya Schermann and the Online Distributed

Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file
was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive)

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BONNIE

SCOTLAND AND WHAT WE OWE HER ***
 Transcriber’s Note
Larger versions of most illustrations may be seen by right-
clicking them and selecting an option to view them separately,
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Additional notes will be found near the end of this ebook.
 William E. Griffis, D.D.
BONNIE SCOTLAND AND WHAT WE OWE HER. Illustrated.
BELGIUM: THE LAND OF ART. Its History, Legends, Industry and
Modern Expansion. Illustrated.
CHINA’S STORY, IN MYTH, LEGEND, ART AND ANNALS.
Illustrated.
THE STORY OF NEW NETHERLAND. Illustrated.
YOUNG PEOPLE’S HISTORY OF HOLLAND. Illustrated.
BRAVE LITTLE HOLLAND, AND WHAT SHE TAUGHT US.
Illustrated. In Riverside Library for Young People. In Riverside
School Library. Half leather.
THE AMERICAN IN HOLLAND. Sentimental Ramblings in the
Eleven Provinces of the Netherlands. With a map and
illustrations.
THE PILGRIMS IN THEIR THREE HOMES,—ENGLAND,
HOLLAND, AND AMERICA. Illustrated. In Riverside Library for
Young People.
JAPAN: IN HISTORY, FOLK-LORE, AND ART. In Riverside
Library for Young People.
MATTHEW CALBRAITH PERRY. A typical American Naval Officer.
Illustrated.
TOWNSEND HARRIS, First American Envoy in Japan. With
portrait.
THE LILY AMONG THORNS. A Study of the Biblical Drama
entitled The Song of Songs. White cloth, gilt top.

HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY

Boston and New York
BONNIE SCOTLAND
AND WHAT WE OWE HER
IONA, ST. MARTIN’S CROSS
BONNIE SCOTLAND
AND WHAT WE OWE HER
BY
WILLIAM ELLIOT GRIFFIS
With Illustrations

BOSTON AND NEW YORK

HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
The Riverside Press Cambridge
1916
COPYRIGHT, 1916, BY WILLIAM ELLIOT GRIFFIS
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Published October, 1916
 DEDICATED
TO THE THREE WOMEN FRIENDS
QUANDRIL
LYRA
FRANCES
FELLOW TRAVELLERS AND GUESTS IN THE
LAND OF COLUMBA, MARGARET, BRUCE, BURNS
AND SCOTT
 PREFACE
In the period from student days until within the shadow of the
great world-war of 1914, I made eight journeys to and in Scotland;
five of them, more or less when alone, and three in company with
wife or sister, thus gaining the manifold benefits of another pair of
eyes. On foot, and in a variety of vehicles, in Highlands and
Lowlands, over moor and water, salt and fresh, I went often and
stayed long. Of all things remembered best and most delightfully in
this land, so rich in the “voices of freedom,”—the mountains and the
sea,—the first is the Scottish home so warm with generous
hospitality.
In this book I have attempted to tell of the Scotsman at home
and abroad, his part in the world’s work, and to picture “Old Scotia’s
grandeur,” as illustrated in humanity, as well as in history, nature, and
art, while showing in faint measure the debt which we Americans
owe to Bonnie Scotland.
W. E. G.
Ithaca, New York.
 CONTENTS
I. The Spell of the Invisible 1
II. The Outpost Isles 7
III. Glasgow: the Industrial Metropolis 17
IV. Edinburgh the Picturesque 27
V. Melrose Abbey and Sir Walter Scott 38
VI. Rambles along the Border 50
VII. The Lay of the Land: Dunfermline 65
VIII. Dundee: the Gift of God 76
IX. The Glamour of Macbeth 88
X. Stirling: Castle, Town, and Towers 97
XI. Oban and Glencoe—Chapters in History 108
XII. Scotland’s Island World—Iona and Staffa 119
XIII. The Caledonian Canal—Scottish Sports 131
XIV. Inverness: the Capital of the Highlands 143
XV. “Bonnie Prince Charlie” 156
XVI. The Old Highlands and their Inhabitants 164
XVII. Heather and Highland Costume 177
XVIII. The Northeast Coast—Aberdeen and Elgin 191
XIX. The Orkneys and the Shetlands 202
XX. Loch Lomond and the Trossachs 213
XXI. Robert Burns and his Teachers 223
XXII. Kirk, School, and Freedom 234
XXIII. John Knox: Scotland’s Mightiest Son 247
XXIV. Invergowrie: In Scottish Homes 259
XXV. America’s Debt to Scotland 270
Chronological Framework of Scotland’s
History 279
Index 287
 ILLUSTRATIONS
St. Martin’s Cross at Iona Frontispiece
Edinburgh City and Castle 28
Dryburgh Abbey 44
Abbotsford 62
The Monastery, Dunfermline Abbey 70
The Valley of the Tay 84
A Typical Scottish Street: High Street, Dumfries 94
Stirling Castle, from the King’s Knot 100
The Kings’ Graves, Iona 128
The Cairn at Culloden 148
The Scotch Brigade Memorial 174
Interior of Cottage, Northeast Coast 194
The Harbor of Kirkwall, Orkney Islands 202
The Trossachs and Loch Achray 216
The Tam o’ Shanter Inn, Ayr 226
The Edinburgh Conference of Missions 268
BONNIE SCOTLAND
 CHAPTER I
THE SPELL OF THE INVISIBLE

As with so many of my countrymen, the dream floated before the

vision dawned. The American who for the first time opens his eyes in
Europe is like the newborn babe, whose sight is not yet focused. He
sees double. There is continually before him the Old World of his
fancy and the Europe of reality. War begins, as in heaven, between
the angels—of memory and of hope. The front and the rear of his
brain are in conflict. While the glamour of that initial glimpse, that
never-recurring moment of first surprise, is before him, he perforce
compares and contrasts the ideal and the reality, even to his
bewilderment and confusion. Only gradually do the two beholdings
coalesce. Yet even during the dissolving pictures of imagination and
optical demonstration, that which is present and tangible wins a glory
from what is past and unseen.
From childhood there was always a Scotland which, like
Wordsworth’s “light that never was, on sea or land,” lay in my mind
as “the consecration and the poet’s dream,” of purple heather,
crimson-tipped daisies, fair lasses, and brave lads. It rose out of
such rainbow tints of imagination and out of such mists of fancy as
were wont to gather, after reading the poets and romancers who
have made Scotland a magnet to travellers the world over. This far-
off region, of kilts and claymores, first sprang out of the stories of
friends and companions. Our schoolmates, whether born on the
moor or sprung from Scottish parents in America, inherited the love
of their fond forebears and kinsmen, who sincerely believed that, of
all lands on this globe, Bonnie Scotland was the fairest.
One playfellow, who afterwards gave up his life at Bull Run for
the land that had given him welcome, was my first tutor in Scottish
history. If native enthusiasm, naïve sincerity, and, what seemed to
one mind at least, unlimited knowledge, were the true bases of
reputation, one might call this lad a professor and scholar. As matter
of fact, however, we were schoolboys together on the same bench
and our combined ages would not amount to twenty-five. He it was
who first pictured with vivid phrase and in genuine dialect the
exploits of Robert the Bruce and of William Wallace. He told many a
tale of the heather land, in storm and calm, not only with wit and
jollity, but all the time with a clear conviction of the absolute truth of
what had been handed down verbally for many generations.
He it was who, without knowing of the books written in English
which I afterwards found in my father’s rich library of travel, stirred
my curiosity and roused my enthusiasm to read the “Scottish Chiefs”
and Sir Walter’s fascinating fiction, and, by and by, to wander over
the flowery fields of imagination created by that “illegitimate child of
Calvinism,” Robert Burns.
Though the boy who became a Union soldier was the first, he
was by no means the last of Scottish folk whose memories of the old
country were fresh, keen, and to me very stimulating. In church and
Sunday school, in prayer-meeting and Bible class, I met with many a
good soul who loved the heather. I heard often the words of petition
and exhortation that had on them the burr and flange of a
pronunciation that belonged to the Lowlands. As years of experience
and discrimination came, I could distinguish, even on American soil,
between the Highlander’s brogue and the more polished speech of
Glasgow and Edinburgh.
When the time for college preparation came, I had, for private
tutor in the classics, a theological student, who in physical frame and
mental traits, as well as in actual occupation, was Hugh Miller all
over again. He had been a stonecutter, believed in “the testimony of
the rocks,” and could lift, move, or chisel a block of mortuary material
with muscles furnished for the occasion. In character, he resembled
in hard beauty the polished rose-red granite of his native hills. Strictly
accurate himself, a master whose strength had grown through his
own surmounting of difficulties, he was not too ready to help either a
lazy boy or an earnest student, while ever willing to give aid in really
hard places. He introduced me to Xenophon, and his criticisms and
comments on the text were like flashlights, while his sympathy for
Klearchus and his comrades illuminated for me my own memories of
the camp life, the hard marching, and the soldier’s experiences
during the Gettysburg campaign. From the immortal Greek text he
made vivid to me the reality of human relations and their virtual
identity, whether in b.c. 400 or a.d. 1863.
By this Scotsman I had a window opened into the Caledonian
mind in maturity. Through him I realized something, not only of its
rugged strength, its sanity, and its keen penetration, but I gained
some notion also of the Scottish philosophy of common sense, which
so long dominated colonial America and especially Princeton—the
mother of statesmen and presidents, over which McCosh presided in
my earlier days.
It was this Caledonia of mind, made by the deposits of human
thought through many ages and experiences, which seemed and yet
appears to me as an eternal Scotland, which, despite change of
fashions, of wars and calamities, shall never pass away. So I must
confess to the spell of invisible Scotland, as well as to the fascination
of the storm-swept peninsula of heaths and rugged hills.
Besides boyhood’s companions of Scottish blood and descent,
there were odd characters in the Pennsylvania regiment in which I
served as flag corporal. My comrades under the Stars and Stripes
came from various shires of Caledonia. Then, too, besides the
bonnie maidens, like those Burns and Ramsay talked with, whose
ancestry I knew, because I was often in their homes and met their
parents and their kinsmen, there was the glamour of the dramatic
poet’s creation. Immediately in front of my father’s home, in
Philadelphia, was the famous Walnut Street Theatre, where that
mighty figure in histrionic art, Edwin Forrest, was often seen. The
tragedy of “Macbeth,” which I have seen rendered more times by
famous actors than I have seen any other of Shakespeare’s
creations, gave a background, which built in my imagination a picture
of Scotland that had in it the depths of eternal time. The land and
people had thus a perspective of history such as nothing else could
suggest, even though I knew enough of the background of actual