|
 HREE
hundred years ago, probably the last place in the realm that any student
of horticulture would choose for his tranquil vocation would be that
lofty bluff on the Firth of Clyde whereon stands Culzean Castle, [It is
pronounced Culline.] for this was of old the stronghold of a branch of
the Kennedys—the most powerful and turbulent clan in south-western
Scotland after the fall of the Black Douglas.
"From Wigtown to the toun
of Ayr,
Portpatrick to the Cruives o' Cree,
Nae man need think for to bide there
Unless he ride wi' Kennedy."
Culzean remains to this
day the principal residence of the Marquess of Ailsa, head of the clan ;
and, forasmuch as the zest of tranquillity and order is greatly enhanced
by contrast with the insecurity of an elder time, it may be permitted to
admit the reader to a glimpse of the state of society when the Kennedys
were a formidable power in the land, by quoting from an anonymous
chronicle of the family composed towards the end of the sixteenth
century. [The storie of the Kennedyis: supposed to have been compiled by
John Mure of Auchendrane while awaiting his decapitation, to which, with
his son, he was condemned for the murder of Sir Thomas Kennedy of
C;ulzean in 1597, and for several other horrible crimes.] It relates how
Gilbert Kennedy, fourth Earl of Cassilis, acquired the lands of the
Abbey of Crosraguel.
"This last Gilbertt was
ane particuler manne and ane werry greidy manne, and cairitt nocht how
he gatt land, sa that he culd cum be [come by] the samin. . . . He
conquessit the abbacy be this forme. Thair was aiie fader-broder [uncle]
of his callit Abbot Quinteyne, ane gud manne and ane that feiritt God,
efter the maner of religione. At the alteratioune of the religioun [The
Reformation.] my lord deltt with the abbott and gut the few [obtained
the freehold] of the said abbacy sett to him ; bot the samin wes
querrellit [repudiated] he the nixt intrant abbot. . . And then a.ne
abott, Allane Stewart, gatt the abbacy; and this abott had mareyitt ane
sister of the Lady Barganyis, and followitt his opinione in all his
adois [doings]. My Lord of Caissi his, perseiffing the samin, desyrit
the Laird of Bargany [Kennedy of Bargany was a near kinsman of Earl
Gilbert's.] to mowe [move] the abbott to conferme his rycht, sett be the
Abott Quinteyne of befoir. Bot the Laird culd nocht gett the abott
mowitt [moved] to cum to him, that he mycht deill with him. . .
Quhairupone the laird persuadit the abott and sent him to Mayboll to my
lord. Att qubais [whose] cuming, my lord delt with him to ratifie his
rycht; bot could nocht gett him mowitt thairto. Quhairupon he tuik
purpoise to conwoy him to Dounour [Dunure], and thair to mowe him to do
the samin be violens. And cluhane [when] he fand [found] him obstinatt,
at last tuik him and band him to ane furme [form], and sett his bair
legis to ane gritt fyr, and extreymly brunt him, that he was ewer
thairefter onabill of his leggis."
Such is the chronicler's
succinct account of the roasting of the Abbot of Crosraguel ; to realise
the full extent of the Earl's heartlessness one should peruse this
unhappy cleric's petition to the Privy Council for redress. At the first
roasting, on 1st September, 1570, the Abbot consented to renounce his
lands, but on the 7th, being asked to sign a document giving effect to
the renunciation, he vowed he would rather die; whereupon his tormentor
ordered the fire to be re-lighted, and his wretched victim to be trussed
for a second ordeal.
"Then," declared the
abbot, "being in so grit paine as I truste never man was in. . . I
cried, 'Fye vpon you! will ye ding whingaris [thrust swords] in me and
put me out of this world? or elis put a barell of poulder vnder me,
rather nor to be demaned [treated] in this vnmercifull maner ? ' The
said erle, hearing me cry, bade his servant Alexander Ritchart put ane
serviat [napkin] in my throat, which he obeyed. . . why, then, Being
that I was in danger of my life, my flesch consumed and brunt to the
bones, and that I wald not condescend to thair purpose, I was releivit
of that paine; whairthrow I uill never be able nor weill in my
lifetime."
The brave abbot was
rescued from duresse by another Kennedy, laird of Bargany, and carried
off to Ayr, "brunt as he was." Cassilis got off pretty cheap. Being too
powerful a chief to offend with safety, he was bound over to keep the
peace towards the abbot under 12000 Scots, equal to £177 13s. 4d.
sterling.
This gentle episode was
but one in a long series of ghastly outrages—arson, murder, mutilation,
and the like—perpetrated by rival septs of the Kennedys upon each other
and upon their neighbours. In the year preceding the union of the Crowns
John, fifth Earl of Cassius, Lord Treasurer of Scotland, set his hand to
the following document, which is preserved in the charter chest at
Barnbarroch, and is remarkable even according to the practice of those
violent times as being uttered by a Minister of the Crown.
"WE, Johnue erle of
Cassillis, lord Kennedy, &c., bindis and oblissis ws that, howsovnne [so
soon as] our broder Hew Kennedy of Brounstone, with his complices,
taikis the laird of Auehindraneis lyf that we sail maik guid and
thankfull payment to him and thame of the sowme of tuelff hundreth
merkis [Equal to £800 Scots or £66 13s. 4d. sterling.] yeirly, togidder
with come to sex horsis, ay and quhill [so long as] we ressave thane in
houshald with our self, beginning the first payment immediatlie efter
thair committing of the said deid.
Arrour, howsovnne we
ressave thame in houshald, we sail pay to the twa serving gentillmen the
feis yeirlie as our awin [own] houshald gentillmen, and heirto we obliss
ws vpone our honour.
Subscryvit with our hand
AT Maybole the ferd [third] day of September 1602. JOHNE ERLE OF
CASSILLIS."
With such echoes of an
age not very remote ringing in one's ears, it is difficult to realise
that
this garden by the sea is
the very scene of many episodes of a blood feud which raged for more
than a hundred years, and cost many Scotsmen, gentle and simple, their
lives.
The lofty bluff whereon
the castle stands has doubtless been a fortified position from
prehistoric times. It is inaccessible on the west, where the cliff falls
sheer to the sea, and the ground slopes sharply away inland to the east,
where a natural gully, originally deepened for defensive purposes, has
been cast into a couple of walled terraces forming a delectable abode
for many shrubs which cannot face an inland winter. The peculiar
conformation of the ground affords that shelter from blustering winds
and salt-laden gales which so often neutralise the genial influence of
the sea side. At the foot of the terraces is a broad, well-shaven lawn,
with a fountain and architectural basin in the centre, and plenty of
room for a couple of tennis courts besides.
These tennis courts have
become permanently marked out in a curious manner which I have not noted
elsewhere. The lines drawn in whitewash during several successive
seasons have killed the grass, which has been replaced by a strong
growth of daisies. The mowing machine of course prevents these from
flowering, but their flat shining leaves, darker than the surrounding
grass, distinctly show the limits of the courts, so as to render
unnecessary any fresh measurement when the nets are set out in summer.
If it were possible to grow the aucuba-leaved daisy with sufficient
certainty in the turf, players need desire no painted lines. That pretty
daisy is rather fickle in behaviour; but perhaps it would respond to the
stimulus of lime applied in a wash, which has had such a remarkable
effect on the common green-leaved kind. One of the first plants to
attract attention on the terrace walls is the violet abutilon (Abutilon
vitifolium), which grows twelve feet high, presenting a lovely spectacle
when covered with its large flowers in June and July. The rare and
tender Olearia Fosteri is quite happy here, sheltered by broad curtains
of common myrtle and several species of Escallonia. Drymis winteri,
also, grows robustly, producing fine trusses of fragrant white flowers
early in the year, and perfecting its glossy foliage in the sunshine
which floods every corner of the terraces and lawns.
On the whole, however,
these terraces, so ample in their proportions, so admirably suited in
their south-easterly aspect for the culture of rare exotics, have not
yet been turned to full account, as doubtless they soon will be, for
their owner, the Marquess of Ailsa, constantly resides in the home of
his ancestors, and is an enthusiastic and skilful amateur. Moreover, he
is fortunate in his head gardener, Mr. Murray, who, both by knowledge
and inclination, is well qualified for the charge of an extensive
collection of exotics. Much of the wall space is occupied by plants
which will thrive in any garden.; but these are being gradually removed
to make way for choicer things, whereof a very rich collection is being
raised in the kitchen garden. That garden, a spacious enclosure within
brick walls, lies about a quarter of a mile south of the castle, well
sheltered by lofty beech woods and approached through an avenue of
splendid silver firs. This tree, the loftiest European species, seldom
receives the treatment of close canopy required to bring it to
perfection. It is usually seen isolated or at wide intervals in mixed
plantation, where its head, towering above all others, becomes ragged
and bent by the prevailing winds. Moreover, unlike others of the genus
Abies, it is a shade-bearer; hence, unless it be grown in dense mass, it
throws out a multitude of strong side branches, which ruins the timber,
naturally of fine quality. In this avenue the firs stand in close rank,
their silvery boles rising straight and clean, a truly beautiful sight
when the sunbeams slant through the dark canopy overhead. The largest of
these trees has reached a height of 120 feet, with a circumference of 15
feet at 4 feet from the ground.
In the garden itself,
attention is first claimed for things of mature growth. A single plant
of Rhododendron ponticum measures 243 feet in circumference and 21 feet
high, and, when in full flower, shows what a truly splendid thing is
this common shrub, so often vulgarised by use in the wrong place. It may
surprise many people to see Buddleia coluillei already four feet high,
flowering freely in the open border without any protection in winter. On
the far side of a grove of Cordyline aystralis, some of them 15 feet
high with the blossoming branches faded, is a bank set with Romneya
coulteri, a noble company. It is a question whether this fine poppywort
should not be cut to the ground after flowering and allowed to spring
again. This is not done at Cuizean, and the flowers, though very
numerous, are not individually so large as those produced on young
growths. At one end of this bank is a mass of the Kerguelen Island
cabbage (Myosotidium nobile) which, though it flowers and seeds
abundantly, shows no symptom of that failure which has overtaken it in
so many gardens. Rodgersia podophylla makes a luxuriant undergrowth in
the shrubberies, with enormous leaves turning in August to bronze and
copper tints.
Among the young stock
note may be made of healthy plants of Leucodendron argenteum, Senecio
rotundifolius, Eleagnus marginata, Enkyanthus japonicas with waxy
flowers in early summer, and deep red leaves in autumn, Hydrangea
involucrata, of which the half-expanded trusses resemble huge blue
moss-roses, Berberis congestilana, with remarkably fine foliage,
ilitraria coccinea, and many other rare plants, which Mr. Murray finds
no difficulty in rearing in the open till they are of a size to plant
out in the grounds.
Passing now into the
woodland beyond the garden, where Miss Wilson has chosen her subject,
Lord Ailsa's full design becomes manifest, namely, to devote these
glades and glens and the margin of a fine sheet of water so as to
develop the natural character of hardy exotics set free in a Scottish
environment. It would take much space to describe the many objects of
interest in this wide demesne. Mention may be made of the luxuriant
growth of tree-ferns (Dicksonia antarctica), many of which are six and
eight feet high with far-spreading fronds. It is to be hoped that some
enterprising nurseryman will set himself to propagate these noble
cryptogams, which are far hardier than many people suppose, though very
impatient of exposure to burning sun and high winds. The supply is
severely limited at present, owing to the timely and commendable action
of the New Zealand Government in prohibiting the exportation of these
ferns, which were in danger of being exterminated by collectors.
Many of the bamboos in
this wild garden flowered themselves to death in the summers of 1905 and
1906, notably Arundinaria simoni, but many hundreds of seedlings have
been raised to take their place, albeit it requires some trouble to
protect from small birds the sweet grain produced by these giant
grasses.
One specially beautiful
shrub claims notice before leaving a glade set with Cordyline and tree
ferns, to wit, Myrtwi (Eugenia) apiculata. Fully seven feet high, set
with panicles of bell-shaped fragrant blossoms, like rose-tinted ivory,
the question which naturally suggests itself is, why is such a charming
shrub, flowering in August and September, not more commonly planted?
Of the interior of the
great castle of the Kennedys, its spacious saloons and well-furnished
armoury, this is not the place to treat ; but it may be observed in
passing from it that nothing could be less applicable to it at the
present day than the description given by the Parliamentarian commander,
Sir William Brereton, who, having occasion to lodge at Culzean during
the civil war, has the following note about his quarters:
"A pretty,
pleasantly-seated house or castle, which looks full upon the main sea.
Hereunto we went, and there found no hall, only a dining-room or hall, a
fair room, and almost as large as the whole pile, but very sluttishly
kept; unswept; dishes, trenchers and wooden cups thrown up and down, and
the room very nasty and unsavoury."
Reckoning one thing
against another, perhaps we have less reason than some people would have
us believe to regret the passing of the good old times. |
