Ardtaraig

Duncan Maclean of Glendaruel, saw fit to sacrifice his earthly all in defence of his principles, and was ousted from his church under circumstances of great harshness, grandpapa never hesitated, but opened his doors to the call of duty, and took his son and daughter, and their six children under the shelter of his roof. A seventh child was born immediately after. Viewing matters as they did, the old people must have regarded Mr. Maclean’s action as pure madness, yet no word of reproach was ever uttered, and the situation, in all its painfulness, presented, on both sides, a picture of human nature at its best, touching in every respect, and highly honourable to all concerned.
This is a long step from the weary little wife, sitting all alone listening to the waterfall. So now, we shall go back to that far-off time.
My mother used to tell that amid the hills and wilds of that (to the eye), sparsely peopled district, there was no lack of social enjoyment; not, of course, like the “afternoon teas” of modern city life, but a solid, substantial, very satisfying (alike to soul and body), form of intercourse. A “call,” meant usually a visit of a week’s duration, and as roads for vehicles were in some parts difficult, if not impossible, the visitors, for by far the most part, arrived on horseback. As some amount of dressing on the part of the ladies and their attendant squires was necessary, knapsacks were carried on the person, or on the pommels of the saddles. Ladies, in addition to absolute necessaries, had bodices of various kinds – some plain, for morning wear; others dressy, for the evening. There was, alas! but little variety possible in skirts; the riding habits ordinarily sufficed, unless for very grand occasions, and mamma has told me, when well brushed, not looking so far amiss. Sometimes the callers were a small party; sometimes pretty numerous. No matter, all were welcome. No friendly telegrams or post-cards were to be had in those days; as often as not the visits were unannounced and surprise parties must have been of common occurrence. Well was it for all concerned that each homestead contained within itself an abundant supply of the necessaries of life. Well was it, also, that there was little lack of health and strength wherewith to meet all emergencies. Full often Gran’s old spyglass was used to sweep across the hills around, for signs of distant cavalcades, and great was the satisfaction of the household when intending guests were descried while yet miles away. The three elder daughters, Catherine, Susan, and Elizabeth (my mother), while still unmarried, went frequently to balls and parties, and had dresses brought from town, i.e. Greenock, then the centre of “West Country exclusiveness,” and the emporium of fashion. Glasgow was looked upon as merely a community of traders – good people, no doubt, but “commercial” – and no more need be said. Aunt Susan, when an aged woman, during her last – it might also be called her first illness – would entertain me in the night-watches, when sitting up with her, by giving elaborate descriptions of these said dresses; telling how grandmamma would write to the dressmakers with her own hand, giving minutest directions, so that nothing might be lacking to make the garments as perfect as possible; on one occasion winding up her instructions with, “And see that not a strap or a string be wanting.” This, the aged invalid repeated with great gusto! She had been for years “a mother in Israel,” and a pillar of the Free Kirk, so that this return to the vanities of her youth, especially at such a time of serious illness, sounded strangely in my astonished ears.
It had evidently been a gay, happy youth for these Ardtarig maidens. Seven young girls, in various stages of growth, required a good deal in the way of frocks, etc., and on grandpapa devolved the pleasing duty of providing the cash. He would groan a little over it, dear man, and no wonder, but is not this just one of the things that fathers are intended for? Sometimes he would be constrained to say, “Girls, you shall have the stuff,” this for ordinary frocks, “if you will make the things for yourselves.” I suppose dressmakers’ bills were formidable even then. The girls responded nobly, and became, by dint of practice, very skilful.
It was truly a remarkable household. Besides a tutor, always in residence, for the younger branches of the family, books, the very best, were supplied galore for all; and, what was more to the purpose, were read. A boxful of these came regularly every month from a library in Greenock, besides a fair amount of classics, permanently on hand. Mamma has told me that seeing Blackwood’s Magazine in my girlish hands has made her thrill, it being identical, in cover and type, with what it used to be when her own young eye’s devoured it. The presence of the tutor made its mark upon the girls as well