Memories

Ere long Mr. Lendrum succeeded in getting the small Episcopal Church of St. Michael built in Lodge Street, in the lower part of the town. He then resigned his charge at Muthill, and came to live at Bank Place, in Crieff. Very soon he found an opportunity to buy the college buildings, and having ejected all the inhabitants, he remodelled the whole, transforming them into a commodious college, thenceforth known as St. Margaret’s College, for sixty Episcopalian girls, some of whom came from the south of England. They were taught by four resident governesses—two English, one French, and one German; also by music and drawing-masters, who came twice a week from Edinburgh and Glasgow, travelling by rail as far as Greenloaning, whence the coach brought them to Crieff, returning next day. The standard of teaching, as proved by printed examination papers and replies, was excellent. Dr. Wordsworth, Bishop of St. Andrews, was visiting director.

Externally the building now assumed a rigidly conventual aspect. With the exception of the lancet windows of the chapel in the east wing, with a door to admit favoured members of the congregation, and the entrance-door in the centre of the college, surmounted with a cross, nothing was seen from the street save a dead wall, without a single window. Those shown in a now very rare engraving were a survival of the older days, but all built up: the dormitories in each wing, and the other rooms on the street side being lighted only by skylight.

On either side of the entrance-door were music-rooms, glazed like a greenhouse, occupying the space which is now laid down in grass. The ecclesiastical-looking window, still so conspicuous as seen from Dollerie Terrace, and so incongruous in its present surroundings, was that of St. Margaret’s Chapel, where the girls met for daily morning and evening church service. A large organ in the loft between the dining-hall and chapel was played by one of the governesses, an excellent musician. But on Sundays and high festivals about seventy-five persons from the college marched two and two down to St. Michael’s Church, at the further end of the town. On Whitsunday all the girls wore white dresses, forming a pretty procession.

The central house was occupied by the Lendrum family, the resident governesses, and a family of boarders from Calcutta; and many leading members of the Episcopal Church, such as Bishop Wordsworth, Dean Torry, Provost Fortescue of St. Ninian’s Cathedral; and Captain the Hon. A. Hay Drummond of Cromlix, met from time to time in the large dining-room.

The kitchen and laundries were situated near the chapel; and here we touch on a weak point, for in those days the pure and abundant waters of Loch Turret had not been enlisted to bring health and cleanliness to the town, and in this large house, as in its humbler neighbours, there was neither water nor drainage. There was, indeed, a pump in the middle of the garden, but in summer it ran dry, so all the year round, twice or three times a day, a water-cart brought water from the burn at Tomaknock, on the Dollerie road.

But for drinking, the house-maidens fetched water in pails from a spring half-way down the High Street, and were much chaffed by the weavers on account of their caps. In the forenoon all, even the youngest girls, wore large “mutches,” such as were then invariably worn by old women; but in the afternoon these were replaced by smart caps, gaily trimmed, and having long streamers of bright-coloured ribbon. Neat white aprons were essential. Although there were thirteen of these maidens, their wages were not so serious an item as they would be now, as the majority only received £3 or £4, and the upper servants £8 per annum.

What with the very inadequate water-supply and other exceedingly defective sanitary arrangements, the school was subject to frequent outbreaks of illness—measles, scarlet fever, and whooping-cough. But after thirteen years typhoid fever broke out, of so virulent a type that two of the girls died, as did also the French governess. The latter was buried at Innerpeffray. Of course the students were dispersed, never to meet again, the financial affairs of the college being found to be in a hopeless muddle.

Mr. Lendrum continued for some years to carry on a similar school near London, on a larger and more expensive scale. It was known as St. Margaret’s College, Fulham. After a while that also came to grief financially.

Once more the college buildings in the High Street came into the market, and were next bought by the Roman Catholic Priest, who, with others, lived in them for a while.

Ere long they were sold to the Trustees of Morrison’s Academy, and used as a temporary house for the Rector (Rev. William Ogilvie) and his boarders, until the permanent house at the Academy was built. So Mr. Ogilvie occupied the central house, and his boys occupied the dormitories in the wings. He was succeeded by Mr. Tyacke, whose lamented death was partly attributed to his haste in removing into the new house aforesaid ere the plaster was fully dry.

The college buildings were next bought by Mr. Donaldson, builder, who once again transformed the two wings into a number of small flats, just as when they were purchased by Mr. Lendrum. The centre, which is distinguished as being “College House,” continues to be an old-fashioned private residence, which is let as lodgings. Its once sombre old dining-room is now my pleasant sitting-room, where, surrounded by the pictures and treasures collected in many climes, I can recall those sunny lands, while watching the ever-changing lights and shadows, all effects of sunshine or storm sweeping by turns over the fertile valley of the Earn and the peaceful Ochils.

As I am jotting down memories of matters of local interest, which are in danger of being forgotten in the rush of modern life, I think I must refer to an old Crieff legend, which, when I first knew the town some forty years ago, was generally known. It refers to the hill called “Callum’s Hill,” about ten minutes’ walk from my door. It faces the house and park of Fern Tower, which, like itself, is the property of our cousin, Lord Abercromby. In the park a few large boulders still remain, of what a hundred years ago was still a very fine Druidic circle, much frequented at Hallowe’en and May morning or “Beltane” (the ancient spring and autumn fire-festivals) by the lads and lassies, who here kept up the old customs of sun-wise turns, and sitting round a bonfire shuffling for bits of oat-cake, leaping across the fire, etc.

The legend was that St. Columba came to Crieff, and ascending the hill overlooking the stones whence the Druids worshipped the rising sun, he taught the people of the true Sun of Righteousness already risen to be the Light of the World. It was on account of this tradition, which he had known all his life, that old Mr. Murray of Dollerie suggested to the congregation of the new Episcopal Church at Crieff, very near this hill, that it should be called St. Columba—a suggestion which was at once adopted. But so little do the present generation know of old tradition, that you will probably find no one who knows anything beyond the fact that the hill is Callum’s Hill, but who Callum was they neither know nor care.

POSTSCRIPT

And now (having returned to that corner of Scotland in which I hope that my beloved body will some day be laid to rest in the sweet God’s-acre at Ochtertyre), for the benefit of friends who may not be acquainted with Mr. Cosmo Monkhouse’s address of a soul to its dying body, I cannot refrain from quoting lines which so exactly describe the feelings of one whose soul-case has for well-nigh seventy years ministered so faithfully to every requirement of an exacting mistress.

“I know Whom I have believed, and am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I have committed unto Him against that Day.”—2 Timothy i. 12.