Nan Shepherd's Correspondence, 1920–80 9781474487597

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Nan Shepherd’s Correspondence

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To Fhionnlagh and Elisabeth, always

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Nan Shepherd’s Correspondence 1920–1980 Edited by Kerri Andrews

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Edinburgh University Press is one of the leading university presses in the UK. We publish academic books and journals in our selected subject areas across the humanities and social sciences, combining cutting-edge scholarship with high editorial and production values to produce academic works of lasting importance. For more information visit our website: edinburghuniversitypress.com © editorial matter and organisation Kerri Andrews 2024 © the letters their several authors 2024 Cover image: Nan Shepherd. Image used with permission of Erlend Clouston. Cover design: www.hayesdesign.co.uk Grateful acknowledgement is made to the sources listed for permission to reproduce material previously published elsewhere. Every effort has been made to trace the copyright holders, but if any have been inadvertently overlooked, the publisher will be pleased to make the necessary arrangements at the first opportunity. Edinburgh University Press Ltd The Tun – Holyrood Road 12(2f) Jackson’s Entry Edinburgh EH8 8PJ Typeset in 10/11.5 Adobe Sabon by IDSUK (DataConnection) Ltd, and printed and bound in Great Britain A CIP record for this book is available from the British Library ISBN 978 1 4744 8757 3 (hardback) ISBN 978 1 4744 8759 7 (webready PDF) ISBN 978 1 4744 8760 3 (epub) The right of Kerri Andrews to be identified as the editor of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, and the Copyright and Related Rights Regulations 2003 (SI No. 2498).

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Contents

Acknowledgementsvi Introduction

1

Nan Shepherd’s Correspondence: 1920–1980

7

Biographical Sketches

320

Index

328

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Acknowledgements

That this book exists at all is thanks to the hard work, generosity and enthusiasm of a great many people. First, I am indebted to the knowledge and commitment of archivists and librarians across the UK. With the pandemic making it impossible to visit archives in person at crucial points, I was entirely reliant on the kindness and generosity of staff who scanned reams of material for me to view remotely. I am sincerely grateful to the staff at: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections; St John’s College, Cambridge; Moray Council; Edinburgh University Library Special Collections; the National Library of Scotland. My gratitude also to Emma Illingworth at the library of Birkbeck, University of London, for fielding questions about the history of English at Birkbeck in the 1920s. The transcription of some of the letters, from Marion Angus and Agnes Mure Mackenzie in particular, was very challenging indeed. The clarity of most of the final transcriptions is due in no small part to a group of enthusiastic puzzle-solvers on Twitter who helped me work through some of the thorniest problems. My thanks to Lina Arthur, Joanna Barker, Hannah Collingridge, Muriel Harrison, Paula Aamli, Polly Atkin, Elaine Morrison, Graham Stephen, El Rhodes, Kate Armstrong, Ange Harker, Emily Woodhouse, David Blundell and Lizzi Wakelin. Any remaining errors in the transcriptions are, of course, entirely my own. I received vital help with some of the many tricky references from a number of people, not least Jan Smith, Principal Information Assistant in The Sir Duncan Rice Library at Aberdeen. Kirstie Waterston of the Aberdeen Press and Journal helped find the references to Adolphus Jack and his court case, and without her assistance there are other references that would have remained unclear. Faye Hammill located some of Agnes Mure Mackenzie’s reviews for me at the last, sparing me many blushes. Scott Lyall’s early encouragement of the project, and collegiality since, has meant a great deal to me. Shona Main offered invaluable help on old Scottish legal terms. Graham Stephen helped clear up several things that had puzzled me, including a persistent mistranscription and a total mystery. I am sincerely grateful.    vi

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acknowledgements  vii

Merryn Glover, whose love of the Cairngorms matches Shepherd’s own, offered useful advice and caught some horrible howlers. Thank you for sparing my blushes. Tim Fulford, letter editor extraordinaire, cast his keen eye over the manuscript at a crucial time while Julia Carlson helped catch some Milton references I had otherwise missed. Thank you both. In addition to caring for a significant portion of Nan Shepherd’s manuscript literary remains, the National Library of Scotland was also the most perfect location for undertaking the extensive and sometimes eccentric research necessary to contextualise her letters. I am very grateful to all the staff there for their professionalism and kindness. The staff at Edinburgh University Library Special Collections were also extremely helpful, obtaining materials and assisting me with some of the most tenuous research questions of the project. Their professionalism was a boon, and I am grateful to them for permission to quote from material held there. Aly Barr and his colleagues at the Scottish Poetry Library, Edinburgh, informed me of a letter found in the library just before this book went to press, and I am very glad of their kindness and impeccable timing. The British Academy awarded me a Mid-Career Fellowship which provided the time and financial resources to bring this book to completion. The project would not have been possible without their support. The public-facing work which was part of the Fellowship also introduced me to large numbers of Nan fans and enabled me to meet some wonderful people who share my passion for Shepherd’s writing. Further events are planned, including a theatrical performance based on Shepherd’s letters, and it is one of the greatest pleasures of this project that the letters have reached so many people one way or another. Edinburgh University Press provided this book with a home and helped place it in readers’ hands. To the whole team, my sincere thanks. The book’s index was compiled by Amanda Speake. Thank you. I am grateful to the following for permission to publish my transcriptions of the letters in their care: Erlend Clouston (the letters of Nan Shepherd); Diarmid Gunn (the letters of Neil M. Gunn); Akros Estate (the letters of Flora Garry); Ruth Paris (the letters of Barbara Balmer); Neil Roger (the letters of Jean Roger). I have attempted to secure the permission of the estates of all those who wrote to Nan Shepherd, including: Jessie Kesson; Agnes Mure Mackenzie; Alexander Gray; Helen Waddell; John L. McNaughton; David Murison; Rachel Annand Taylor; Bill Taylor; W. S. Angus; Rev. Kenneth Macmillan; Helen B. Cruickshank; Keith Henderson; Ken Morrice; Rus Hart; Marris Murray; Cuthbert Graham. My letters to their estates have been returned unanswered, but should any copyright holder come forward, I would be very happy to include my acknowledgements to them in any subsequent edition of this book.

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Introduction

The turbulent story of Nan Shepherd’s literary career, from spectacular early success to mystifying silence, then years of neglect before a modest last hurrah shortly before her death when The Living Mountain was finally published in 1977, is probably one of the best known in Scottish literature. So too is the way The Living Mountain took flight in the 2010s to become one of the most influential books about nature written in the twentieth century, drawn upon by everyone from Robert Macfarlane to Björk to the Royal Bank of Scotland (RBS). The image of Shepherd with her long auburn hair plaited with a jewelled thong bound across her forehead, selected by RBS for their £5 note in 2016, may be in your pocket at this moment. Literary prizes have been named after her. Nan Shepherd, it seems, is everywhere. This acclaim, though, is narrowly focused. A great deal has been written about The Living Mountain and Shepherd’s three novels, The Quarry Wood (1928), The Weatherhouse (1930) and A Pass in the Grampians (1933), which continue to be reasonably frequently read. Her one volume of poetry, In the Cairngorms (1934), has benefited from republication with a generous introduction by Robert Macfarlane. But Shepherd’s career as a writer and literary figure was far more substantial and lasted much longer than the current vogue for these few productions of her thirties and forties would suggest. Charlotte Peacock, in her 2017 biography of Nan Shepherd, Into the Mountain, helpfully located Shepherd within the wider social and historical contexts of the twentieth century; Peacock traces a compelling picture of Shepherd’s development as a writer years before she achieved success, and long after the celebrity of the 1930s had passed. As Peacock ably demonstrates, for Shepherd literature was a lifelong vocation; even if for long periods she no longer wrote herself, she remained busy supporting the activities of other writers, especially those who shared her roots in the north-east of Scotland. And while it feels at times that organisations and artists are falling over themselves to laud Shepherd’s artistic vision, the long-recognised markers of literary quality have tended to elude her. Where Lewis Grassic Gibbon’s Sunset Song has been a staple of the Scottish Higher curriculum for a long time, Shepherd’s debut novel The Quarry Wood, which has been favourably compared with Grassic Gibbon’s work, is not routinely studied. While Grassic Gibbon and other male members of the ‘Scottish Renaissance’ of    1

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2   nan shepherd’s correspondence the 1930s – Hugh MacDiarmid, Neil M. Gunn, George Blake, Eric Linklater and Edwin Muir, for example – have been the subjects of sustained academic study, Shepherd and other women who were equally active in the movement have often been relegated to lesser prominence, when they have been recognised at all. Biographies of Gunn, with whom Shepherd corresponded at length for years, began to appear in the 1970s. For Grassic Gibbon it was the 1960s. Serious academic studies of MacDiarmid were also published in that decade, while editions of letters by Gunn and MacDiarmid appeared in the 1980s. For Shepherd and the other women active in the Scottish Renaissance the case has been quite different: for them biographies are rare and editions of their correspondence non-existent. In some areas this is slowly, patchily, beginning to change. Charlotte Peacock’s biography of Shepherd was an important moment in the recognition of Shepherd as a writer whose entire career is worthy of consideration; something similar will happen for Willa Muir with the publication of Margery Palmer McCulloch’s ambitious and posthumously published joint biography of Muir and her husband, Edwin. Other projects, including Aimée Y. Chalmers’s wonderful PhD thesis on Marion Angus, submitted to the University of St Andrews in 2010, have begun the work of locating the biographical treasures of these women’s lives, most of which have been tucked away in archives, ignored. Much more, though, needs to be done. This edition of Shepherd’s correspondence emerges from this context, and my decision to begin work on it was a deliberately feminist act. It is not an act of recovery, exactly, because Shepherd’s is now a familiar name for many, but it is an attempt to ensure that this current period of fame does not end like the last one, in the 1930s, did: with a gradual forgetting followed by decades of neglect. Shepherd is categorically a writer worthy of full scholarly recognition and the full scholarly treatment readily accorded to so many of her male colleagues and peers: serious and sustained study; biography; a scholarly edition of letters or correspondence. Learned articles and essays about Shepherd have been appearing fairly regularly for the past twenty years or so, and her writing has been eloquently championed and contextualised by scholars such as Alison Lumsden, Margery Palmer McCulloch and most recently Samantha Walton, though monographs devoted to Shepherd are rare – Walton’s recent booklength study therefore being particularly significant. A first biography has been published thanks to Charlotte Peacock’s diligent work, which demonstrated the richness of Shepherd’s life. That Peacock leaned heavily on Shepherd’s letters in writing her book is testament to the letters’ value over the span of Shepherd’s life, and indicates the necessity of producing an edition of the letters themselves. The production of an edition of Shepherd’s correspondence is therefore the logical next step. That correspondence reveals a cache of literary treasures. Shepherd was active as a writer, thinker and teacher for the greater part of the twentieth century. She was a keen-sighted and sharp reader of others’ work, and

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introduction  3

her critiques (and appreciations) of Neil Gunn’s work demonstrate how seriously she took her literary relationships. As a contributor to and later editor of the Aberdeen University Review Shepherd championed work by writers she admired, including Hugh MacDiarmid, Lyn Irvine, Charles Murray, Jessie Kesson and others. She was an early, enthusiastic and committed attender at the Edinburgh Festival, and enjoyed a correspondence with many of the most influential writers in Scotland of the twentieth century, many of whom were or became dear friends through the exchange of letters. Indeed, it is only through Shepherd’s letters that the full breadth and significance of her literary activities becomes visible.

The Letters I have identified around two hundred and fifty letters from and to Nan Shepherd. All are included in this edition of her correspondence. The majority of these letters are held in large collections in major libraries. The letters from and to Neil Gunn, Jessie Kesson and Sir Alexander Gray reside in the National Library of Scotland in Edinburgh alongside a few from other correspondents such as Cuthbert Graham, David Murison, and the odd letter to Agnes and Jean Mackenzie. Shepherd’s letters to Hugh MacDiarmid and to Helen B. Cruickshank are housed in the Special Collections at Edinburgh University, while the letters between Shepherd and John L. McNaughton are cared for by Moray District Record Office. Aberdeen University holds the bulk of the collection of letters from Agnes Mure Mackenzie and Marion Angus which make up much of Shepherd’s correspondence in the 1920s and early 1930s. One major holding exists outside Scotland: the letters from Nan Shepherd to Lyn Irvine. These are held at St John’s College, Cambridge, where Irvine moved to be with her husband, a professor of mathematics at the university. For each letter included in this edition I have given full manuscript and collection details so that the originals can be identified and consulted by anyone interested in examining them in situ. A small number of letters included here remain in private hands. Letters to Jean and Grant Rogers, Daphne Hendry (later Penny, then Randerson), Barbara Balmer and Erlend Clouston have been offered for use by their guardians, kindnesses for which I am immensely grateful. The originals of the letters from Nan Shepherd to Barbara Balmer are no longer accessible, likely misplaced. For these letters I have had to rely on the transcriptions of them made by Barbara’s daughter, Rachel. These letters include a number of words Rachel was not able to identify, which I have signified thus: [unclear]. That there were more letters is certain: one individual told me of disposing of letters of Shepherd’s, thinking them to be worthless. While this is frustrating, few if any editions of letters are without such incidents. The belief that Shepherd’s letters had no value might mean, however, that there are as-yet unremembered letters out there. Every effort has been made in

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4   nan shepherd’s correspondence the course of preparing this edition to identify all surviving letters, but it is possible that others will emerge. For the sake of scholarship on Shepherd I hope this is the case. A note should be included here on the handwriting in the letters published in this edition. Shepherd’s own hand is flowing. She has a tendency to bring the tail at the end of one word into the beginning of the next, creating the impression of fluidity of thought where Shepherd’s pen seems to effortlessly keep up with her ideas. Occasionally this habit makes it tricky to identify where words begin and end, and Shepherd’s vowels are sometimes the helpless victims of her speed of thinking and writing. On the whole, though, Shepherd’s hand is easy on the eye, and very distinctive. Other correspondents were not so kind. Helen B. Cruickshank herself complained to Shepherd in 1969 of Marion Angus that her ‘letters are teasing to read, and as she never dated them, almost impossible to read in chronological order’. This is quite the understatement: in some places Angus’s letters are almost indecipherable. I am quietly confident of the readings I offer here of Angus’s handwriting, but have borne in mind that not even those familiar with her hand knew what she was saying some of the time. Another tricky hand was possessed by Agnes Mure Mackenzie, who compounded a tendency to crush her vowels – and sometimes whole words – into impossibly small spaces with a habit of using inadequate pens and paper which bled and blurred. While the quality of the digital images I received from Aberdeen University was of the highest standard, even modern scans cannot sharpen text that was fuzzy from the start. It was, however, occasionally very helpful indeed to be able to take advantage of having the letters on my computer with its zoom function. Magnification of Mackenzie’s cramped writing sometimes yielded otherwise impossible readings. In this context letters that were typewritten were like manna from heaven, and Sir Alexander Gray’s preference for the typewriter quickly endeared him to me. He, like a number of Shepherd’s correspondents, used headed notepaper with home and sometimes work addresses printed on each sheet. Shepherd too occasionally used the formal stationery of the Aberdeen University Review, though if she was writing a personal message she would messily score out all of the honorifics printed on the page. As this edition does not use diplomatic transcription not all of these features have been retained, and differences in presentation of features like addresses and dates have been standardised for clarity and ease of reading. Square brackets have been used to indicate where I have inserted material as editor. Curved brackets are the letter writer’s own. Diagonal lines, thus, / / have been used to indicate an insertion by the letter writer or someone other than the editor. I have added [sic] wherever there might have been some confusion over the source of an error in spelling. Finally, I offer a note on my handling of Scots and Scottish references. Agnes Mure Mackenzie once advised Shepherd to include a glossary to the Doric used in The Quarry Wood, but she also complained about the ignorance of readers regarding Scots words and their usages. Both she

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introduction  5

and other correspondents of Shepherd (and sometimes Shepherd too) regularly used Scots and Doric words, or made references to writers and contexts that are well known in Scotland. I have tended to tread lightly here because I am reluctant to recreate the old-fashioned cultural hierarchy of which Mackenzie and Shepherd at times complained: English representing the ‘standard’ while Scots is ‘different’ and requires a ‘translation’ back into English. As Mackenzie herself demonstrates, though, there is no easy answer to the difficulty of wanting writing to find readers, while also acknowledging the validity and richness of the language in which that writing appears. I hope readers will understand why I am reluctant to explain ideas or words common in Scotland in a book on some of the central figures of recent Scottish literature.

Chronology Shepherd was a considerate correspondent on the whole, usually providing dates for each letter she sent. The same cannot be said of some of those who sent letters to her. Agnes Mure Mackenzie is particularly unhelpful, though Neil Gunn, Marion Angus and others, especially later in Shepherd’s life, were also capable of sending undated letters. It is Mackenzie’s letters, though, that pose the greatest difficulty for accurate chronological positioning. This is in part because her letters are often on topics of a personal nature with few mentions of wider events that would make it possible to more accurately identify the date of composition; but it is also partly because Shepherd herself attempted to date the letters from Mackenzie when she handed them over to Aberdeen University’s library. Shepherd’s dates, and indeed her various clarifying comments, were added many years after the letters were received, and are often qualified in various ways. Imperfect as these dates are, though, they are in several cases the most accurate guide to when the letters were composed. I have therefore retained Shepherd’s dating of them, and used that dating in determining the order in which the letters appear. Where I have on occasion found grounds to disagree with Shepherd’s recollection this has been indicated in the notes.

Presentation In the course of preparing this edition I read a number of other editions of letters to assess the most effective way of presenting the range of necessary information that ought to be present in a scholarly edition. Having consulted widely, I determined to forego numbered notes, finding them on the whole to be intrusive and, when composing in Microsoft Word, subject to far too many vagaries of the software. Instead I have chosen a system of leaving the letters themselves without annotation while offering notes based on a small sample of the relevant text underneath the letter. This has

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6   nan shepherd’s correspondence the benefit of keeping the letter text clean while also allowing readers to decide for themselves if they wish to or need to interrupt their reading to find out more. I have done my very best to identify every reference made by Shepherd and her correspondents, often with the help of much more knowledgeable people who have solved some very tricky puzzles on my behalf. Inevitably, though, there remain some references that I have simply not been able to track down. The number of these obscure references is higher than I would like or what I expected when I began this project, and many of the remaining puzzles are the result of in-jokes between Shepherd and Agnes Mure Mackenzie. All letters editions attempt to a certain extent to recreate the world in which the letters were written so as to enable modern readers to understand what is being spoken of; with Shepherd and Mackenzie, however, their world was so specific to them, and had so few anchors in the world shared with other people, that it has been impossible in some cases to identify what is being discussed. Mackenzie’s habit of using acronyms to refer to things familiar and obvious to her and Shepherd, but unidentifiable without their intimate and shared knowledge, has been a particular problem. Where this is the case I have indicated the difficulty next to the relevant text. Shepherd corresponded with a reasonably large number of people, though a moderate-sized group comprises those with whom she exchanged letters regularly. For this smaller group I have included at the end of the edition a biographical sketch for each individual. Some readers will have no need to resort to these sketches, but for others there may well be names that form a large part of Shepherd’s epistolary world with which they are not familiar. For these readers there is supplementary information to help them orientate themselves. Something that became clear to me as I was preparing these sketches was that a huge amount of work remains to be done to reclaim for Scottish literary history the women who did so much to establish the full value of Scotland’s culture during the crucial decades of the early twentieth century. Although Shepherd has been selected recently in Scotland and beyond for a kind of secular beatification, this elevation risks trapping her artistic value as firmly as did the dark drawer which held The Living Mountain prior to the book’s publication. Shepherd’s vision of Scotland, of the mountains, of the value of Scottish literature, was not unique or God-given or remotely mystical in its origins: it emerged from dialogue and engagement and discussion with writers and scholars and friends across Britain, some of it captured in the letters published here. This edition of Nan Shepherd’s correspondence, bolstered by the cultural cachet and scholarly reputation of Edinburgh University Press, is intended to demonstrate that Shepherd’s letters matter; that they deserve to be widely read. But I think this edition also reveals that the other women who appear alongside Shepherd in this correspondence, who debated with her what Scottish letters should and could be, deserve to be accorded the same respect.

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Nan Shepherd’s Correspondence: 1920–1980

From: W. Leslie Mackenzie, to Nan Shepherd Address from: 4, Clarendon Crescent,| EDINBURGH Address to: Miss Nan Shepherd,| Dunvegan,| West Cults,| Aberdeen MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 27438, item 4 2 December 1920 Dear Madam, I should have acknowledged your letter of 20th October. I am very glad that my causerie about the Anthology has given its two editors some satisfaction. Incidentally, it may have induced some readers to buy the volume. At least I hope so. Miss Mackenzie told me about Mr. Hastings’ curious forgetfulness. It is interesting psychologically and, no doubt, could be made quite intelligible under psycho-analysis. You are both, I suppose, quite satisfied on objective grounds that the claim to authorship is correct. If you are producing more verses like ‘The long straight line . . . etc’, I shall wish to know where I can see them. I have tested all the quoted pieces by reading them carefully to people with good ears: among others to Mrs. Kennedy Fraser, who is peculiarly sensitive to the rhythms not of music only, but of verse as well. She was peculiarly fascinated when I read to her your ‘Man who Journeyed etc.’ The last two lines, she said, had an almost hypnotic effect in establishing the sense of monotony. By the way, when I got the proof to correct, I found that the printer had printed ‘the sea and the sky’ and omitted the ‘the’ from the last words – ‘the sand and the sea.’ As I knew that we had taken particular pains to make sure that this mistake could not happen, I consulted the manuscript and found it perfectly correct and, fortunately, I was able to restore in time the proper reading. The mistake, however, shows that printers have no time to be bothered even with cardinal details. I was glad, however, to have escaped the possible imputation that I had mangled your beautiful line. Yours sincerely, W. Leslie Mackenzie

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8   nan shepherd’s correspondence Notes W. Leslie Mackenzie: Sir (William) Leslie Mackenzie (1862–1935), a health administrator with strong connections to Aberdeen where he went to both school and then university, graduating with an MA in 1883 and an MB, CM in 1888. In 1890, after receiving his diploma in public health from Aberdeen University, he became the assistant medical officer for the city. my causerie about the Anthology: Alma Mater Anthology, 1883–1919 (Aberdeen: Lindsay, 1919) was edited by Nan Shepherd and Agnes Mure Mackenzie, both of whom had recently served as editors of the university publication Alma Mater. Miss Mackenzie told me about Mr. Hastings’ curious forgetfulness: James Hastings (1852–1922) was at this time editing the Encyclopaedia of Religion and Ethics (1908–21). It is likely that Miss Mackenzie was a sister of Sir Leslie’s. Hastings had wanted Nan Shepherd to work on the Encyclopaedia with him. She declined, suggesting Agnes Mure Mackenzie in her place. ‘The long straight line . . . etc’: a line from ‘The Man who Journeyed to his Heart’s Desire’ (p. 114 of the Anthology: He journeyed east, he journeyed west, Ever he sought one perfect rest, Ever the moon and the stars gleamed cold, But the moon was withered, the years were old, When he came to the land of the Weary Blest. And there the folk who had sought as he Stared in a silence stonily (For nothing was even worth a sigh) On the long straight line of the sea and sky, And the long straight line of the sand and the sea.) Mrs. Kennedy Fraser: Marjory Kennedy-Fraser (1857–1930), acclaimed folklorist and singer who was at this time in the process of publishing what would be three volumes of Songs of the Hebrides (1909, 1917, 1921), which secured her place as a central figure of the Celtic revival.

From: Agnes Mure Mackenzie, to Nan Shepherd No address MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2750/1 [No date, 1920] I’m going to London on Wednesday & begin work on Monday. I’m pretty scared. It means people again. I’ve been content enough in my backwater. And I’m lazy to face the work, and doubting if I can do it. And generally the world’s so new-and-all. However English people are readier likers than

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nan shepherd’s correspondence: 1920–1980   9

Scots & Londoners love novelty & I am a strange beastie, so they’ll probably be quite ready to pat it on the head. But I haven’t any confidence in either my matter or my manners, wh. is a bad start for a lecturer! I don’t really know my stuff – I can talk impressively enough, but I’ve no real knowledge – what I have is spoilt by my abominable memory and generally – Wowl. Wowl. Wowlie – Wowl – WOWL By the way, do you know a Dr. Angus Macgillivray of Dundee? ’Cos he’s just written a nice note (with a stamped addressed p.c. in it) inquiring whether my collected poems are published & if so where can he get them? It seems he wrote to Bissets, who referred him to me. Once more (with another expression) wowls as above. Alas. I told him the sorrowful Ter-uth. Good luck to you Nancikie, & lang may the hassock cock its legs at the morn. Selah A. M. McK. Previous to cocknification. Notes I’m going to London: in 1920 Agnes Mure Mackenzie obtained a part-time lectureship in English Literature at Birkbeck College. Dr. Angus Macgillivray of Dundee: Dr Angus Macgillivray (1865–1947) was an ophthalmologist who worked at Dundee Eye Institution. He retained an interest in Scottish culture throughout his life. my collected poems: although Mure Mackenzie wrote poetry throughout her literary career she published no collection. J. G. Bisset was an Aberdeen-based publisher. Selah: an expression used often by Mackenzie. It is possibly taken from the Hebrew, meaning ‘to lift up’ or ‘to exalt’, though scholarship suggests the word might also have significance as musical notation, where it might indicate a pause.

From: Agnes Mure Mackenzie, to Nan Shepherd No address MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2750/2 [No date, 1920] My felicitations on the jumper. It makes me its own colour, for I can’t wear picturesques, and I want to! Perhaps it was the sub-consc. uncanny of it made me extravagant in a part hair-prong to call the attention of the world in general to my shell-like ear – ahem! I’m going to two Coll. dances in the next month.

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10   nan shepherd’s correspondence Yes, work is an excellent thing. I’m happy in mine, too. Last autumn & spring are like memories of a nights delirium. I’ve been rather witty again this week – had taken out of class once, but I’d given 1 ¼ hours on Hamlet in a nearly solid atmosphere. I’m getting a little tired, but I’m really better than I have been for nearly ten years. I’m not dreaming much, & they are mostly very colourless & vague. Its so good to sleep. Sydney Crow is only up for a couple of days on business. I wish he was here for good – he’d be wholesome for my nerves & I for his intellect! We do each other a lot of good. I’m looking forward to Wednesday. What about that picture for the Ladies Room. Had I better buy it & what will you go up to? Mae’s joining too. What had it better be? Sg with rich colour, anyhow – one of the sunny Corots? Or a good portrait – Bellini’s Doge, or a Velazquez Infanta – they’ve a splendid one in the Dungeon at St. Hilda’s. By the way, do you remember the spring Madonna in Unwin St – the one with the Crocuses. I’ve found that at Holy Cross in a corner of the Lady Chapel. It was like meeting a friend. I’ve been as lucky in my church as in my work & my house – we had a ripping sermon from an infant in deacon’s orders yesterday – the junior Curate (there are three) – a pink & white ball of quicksilver – but a preacher. It has all the wantonnesses of Christianity in it, and left me realising just how much faith I had – or hadn’t. Video meliora – so much more clearly than most people, and in spite of that, follow it so much less well than so many who didn’t see nearly so clear. Also in love. I did realise last night that its not humility that has made me refuse to pray that my man should come to me, at all events in my sober senses. It was funk. Plain funk. Because I couldn’t pray for it without praying for my own sufficingness, and I knew too well what that involved to pray for it – in case I got what I asked for. So – I have chosen the second best, after all. Life’s an awfully queer business. I believe the fact has been observed before, but I state it now in case you hadn’t noticed it. I note the wedding. By the same mail I heard of the birth of Jean Smith Templeton & the death of a girl at home, younger than I. Somehow it emphasizes the queerness of things – Marjorie Niven and Henry Orwel – my life’s been so much fuller & more complex & wider-reaching & yet . . . well. I’ll experience death in due course, no doubt! I am not in any hurry! Bloomsbury trees are bonny in a pale rose-lavender sky, and I’m beginning Much Ado on Thursday, and Sidney next week – and there’s a dance on Tuesday and Sidney Crow’s coming this week & Sister Agatha (who is a dear) is coming to tea on Saturday. So I’ve too many engagements for it to be convenient to shuffle off this mortal coil in the bus where one lies down. I ought to be doing a lecture on the F. Queen. I’m really lying on the Common Room sofa, wh. is large and squabby, watching Tappan do the Differential Calculus with my martial cloak (toga) around me (? riches of phrases??) Broke off to swap yours with Tappan. Our little lot are the best though!

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nan shepherd’s correspondence: 1920–1980   11

Good luck to Lohengrin. I hope he lists Telramund once before T goes over. We’re rehearsing the scene where Gaveston is wounded – we looted the Staff Room fire-irons first night: now it’s walking sticks, but I’m still something first-aid. The poor Queen has to run in on the combatants & I think she’d better have a tin hat! There’s plenty of pep in the quarrels! Go to bed. Agnes Muriel. It’s high time. My flowers are beginning to show, no poetry though. I’ve lost the desire to write – I suppose one does at 30. Remember I am nearly la femme de trente ans! There are things I want to record, [therefore] they are worth it, but they befell One unworthy. I haven’t enough resolution to pay the price in brain-sweat. Anyhow, there’s my Intro class – One boy writes rather decent poetry & another has a good natural sense of prose-construction. If I can help them its more to the point. Queerly enough, its the men I have established personal relations with most quickly – one of my Junior Pass men by the way is, I discover, really Senior, but comes regularly to my class, wh. has rather bucked me. ‘We that are old hands, winter-bitter, grey – ’ I’ve never wanted maturity for itself, even when the wonder of it was new and seemed to explain – other things. But these bairns. I don’t want to get to care for the press, though. It is good for my self-respect to find myself helping someone, but I don’t want it to reach my conceit. Only it’s good to pay back some of the things that mattered so much, or could have mattered so much. But I don’t give what I might. I don’t blame my T. C. failure much, but it will be a big blame if I fail here, for I do seem to be able to reach them. ‘Of them in the kingdom’ – if one could help them to see it. After all, one can’t choose just what part of it one will be used for. The main thing is to be used at all. With which most usual reflections I to bed. Wouldn’t it be a good experience for you to punctuate one of my letters? Thine M NB Gladys’ Monkey – where’s he got to? Notes 1920: the letter was dated by Nan Shepherd on giving the letters to Aberdeen University. The date is likely late 1920. Sydney Crow: possibly a bookbinder from Boston, Lincolnshire. Mae’s joining too: it has not been possible to identify this individual. one of the sunny Corots: Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot (1796–1875), French landscape painter. We’re rehearsing the scene where Gaveston is wounded: Mackenzie is describing here preparations for a performance of Edward II by Christopher Marlowe. The performance was recorded in Birkbeck’s student magazine, Lodestone, in the

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12   nan shepherd’s correspondence Lent term of 1921 where it received considerable praise. Particularly commented upon was the ‘bravery of the very handsome dresses and armour’ (Lodestone, volume 16, number 2, 1921, p. 91). Bellini’s Doge, or a Velazquez Infanta: Doge Leonardo Loredan by Giovanni Bellini (c. 1430–1516), painted around 1501 or 1502. Infanta Margarita Teresa in a Blue Dress by Diego Velázquez (1599–1660), painted in 1659. Both paintings are held in national institutions. the Dungeon at St. Hilda’s: possibly St Hilda’s church in Crofton Park, south-east London. It was built between 1905 and 1908 in a Gothic style, complete with a crypt. the spring Madonna in Unwin St: it has not been possible to identify what Mackenzie is referring to here. Video meliora: Latin, ‘I see a better way.’ the birth of Jean Smith Templeton: likely the daughter of Mackenzie’s dear friend Jean Smith Templeton, to whom Mackenzie’s first novel, Without Conditions, would be dedicated in 1923. Templeton senior worked as a tutor at St Hild’s College, Durham, having graduated MA from Edinburgh University in 1908. Marjorie Niven and Henry Orwel: it has not been possible to identify these individuals. and Sidney next week: Sir Philip Sidney (1554–86), Renaissance poet. Mackenzie admired his work. Sister Agatha: it has not been possible to identify this individual. F. Queen: The Faerie Queene (1596) by Edmund Spenser. Tappan: it has not been possible to identify this individual. Lohengrin: an opera by Richard Wagner, first performed in 1850. Count Friedrich von Telramund is a character, and serves in the opera as the Duke’s guardian. I don’t blame my T. C. failure much: Mackenzie worked for a short time at Aberdeen Training College where she was paid £30 a year for essay correction and tutorial work. With the First World War taking staff from the English Department at King’s College, Mackenzie transferred to become a Junior Assistant. The role ended in 1917, and Mackenzie was reliant on Shepherd finding her further literary work connected to Aberdeen University. NB Gladys’ Monkey – where’s he got to?: a reference to Mackenzie’s friend Gladys Muriel Mitchell (b. 1896), who was studying at this time for her LLB. The ‘monkey’ is perhaps a fellow student.

From: Agnes Mure Mackenzie, to Nan Shepherd No address MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2750/3 [No date, Christmas 1920]

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nan shepherd’s correspondence: 1920–1980   13

Good luck to you my dear. I’ve had a queerly vivid sense of you today – tactual rather than visual, especially of the crisp soft touch of your hair. I’m glad we had that St. Stephen’s Day. And the white clear nights of my first Christmas at B. I can see the very grain of the stones, the dead leaves set in the ice & the bramble leaves black and curled in at the edges. Such a strange year it’s been. And here am I so used to London I never seem to have been elsewhere, & I might be in my Alma Mater. How long – ? The settledness is too complete. Yet I’ve a strange sense of good in things – of sg. to come that will – I don’t know. Be satisfying, anyhow. Perhaps I’m going west. At least this Christmas is different. I’m too tired for it to be in my consciousness, but somehow I know it. I shall be making my communion at midnight. Think of me then, Nancy – & put in a bit prayer for my bairns at Coll. sp. that I won’t let them down. God seems curiously close – or I suppose its truer to say his closeness is vivider than usual. I don’t think I’ve ever felt the graciousness of Christmas so – not the fiery triumphancy of Easter. Its one of the oasis days – still waters. I found this today & some of them remind me of you. I like 21, 23, 221, 33, 35, 36, 45. The last has a queer peopled feel about it. Well, my dear – good Christmas to you – and the great wing over the valley, and a star in the East. M. [Written on the reverse] Mae seach salaamis              & good wishes Notes Mae seach salaamis: possibly maiseach from the Old Irish, meaning beauty or grace. It has not been possible to identify what Mackenzie meant by salaamis, though it may have been a playful gesture towards the Arabic word for ‘peace’.

From: Agnes Mure Mackenzie, to Nan Shepherd No address MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2750/4 [No date, 1921] The Sparrow-Cage Nan, I wish you’d find another adjective for that sonnet. The thing itself is unholily good. Oh hang it all –

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14   nan shepherd’s correspondence Our room isn’t finished yet, but it’s going to be rather decent. I’ve a nice entrance with beasties in it – bunny rabbits, but there won’t be any rugs my till my next screw, I’m afraid! I’m getting rather to love Bloomsbury – the high straight Georgian houses with their little iron balconies hanging from the tall windows, the prim gardens of the great squares with the tall plane-trees in pale sun. All but the barrel-organs. Bloomsbury is more symphonic with my temperament than Chelsea. I’m not Bohemian. Bloomsbury is prim, and so am I. And there’s a sedate gentleman (in a new grey cap) who doesn’t think so – only it doesn’t matter. And another, about ten years his junior (in a not very new grey suit) who thinks I am wonderfully sympathetic and tells me about his ambitions already. I hope he thinks I’m prim, at least. It is curious to find myself among men again after the last few years. They’re not all boys, either. I feel a little like the Ursuline nun who is taking my Pass class (we’ve three nuns at least – queer in a co-educational college). Men have become strange animals to me, and I find I’m shy – especially when they walk up to the dais after lecture and argue about the relation between matter & form or the importance of C. H. couperman (that’s two more) Do you know what bothers me? They’re so much taller that I have to look up to hear them, and it annoys me. I’m level with most women, and the men in my own family are rather short. I am rather tired. Night lecturing doesn’t agree with me. I like my two latest classes best of all, but they are too stimulating. I go home & lie awake – a new thing for me, for bad sleep is generally bad in quality rather than length. I think this is better though. I cd. read if I wanted. It’s better than dreams – that Russian venture has marked me. It’s a year next week since I came to London first. And here am I with a house of my own in it. I hardly realise yet that this room is mine – my house! I even have a lodger! It’s quite a nice place. I wonder how many years I shall live here, and what the next move will be. This one’s different, anyhow. Notes till my next screw: a slang term for pay. C. H. couperman: it has not been possible to identify what, or whom, Mackenzie is referring to here.

From: Agnes Mure Mackenzie, to Nan Shepherd No address MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2750/5 [No date, late summer 1921]

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nan shepherd’s correspondence: 1920–1980   15

Nancy, dear, if there’s a spot of grease on this it’s probably me; so take it off gently with blotting paper, and bury it down by some green garden side, with a china wreath on it. It has been 79–84˚ F all the week, with the gas lit at 5.30 & Cold craunroch Also my chief is ill & Daunt & I have the whole Department to run – and I have three Mature classes with a devouring passion for written work! Wowl, wowl Wowl! I thought when I wasn’t flitting after all that those lectures I’d written to cease the flitting wd. give me a rest! Well it’s a mercy I wrote them! It’s been touch & go last week, & probably will this, as of course Events have Transpired. Which reminds me, one of My Mature gentlemen informed a librarian he’d written for the Manchester Guardian. His exercise is sprinkled with capitals like an 18th. moral tractate and he has as much idea of punctuation or even of dividing sentence from sentence as II Bgia in 1915. Cheers! Sorry about your weather. But we’ve had something at least! Only it is not the storm that I want to recall, but the face of the hills in the sunlight when we halted in the heather, and the moon standing on Craigownie ‘Peace, peace seems all’ – and they were peace. I think the larig caught me so because of some forgotten memory that it was the Deeside road. Then there was the smell of the myrtles under those little birches, and the altar-stone. It’s good to have had these – and better in good company. There’s thunder-rain now. I hope it cools things a bit. I’m rather happy just now – people have been so awfully nice. But I am tired. Only my body, though, & it’s clogging on my mind. But somehow nearly every night this week I’ve dreamt of [deletion] (a very rare thing) and though I can’t remember any of the dreams they’ve all been unhappy. There isn’t the faintest chance of seeing him, so it’s not much good worrying – and any how it’s stupid to worry. And I’m not, really. Certainly, I’ve never had so much pleasure in work. I haven’t got your sonnets off yet – Lobban’s illness has rather upset my decent orderly arrangements. But I’ll try in the next day or two. Miss Wolton is having a book published, by the way, so somebody I know is getting a bit of success, anyhow. It’s about time! I do like people to have luck. Boots hadn’t any of the books, so I owe you 2/ – . I can’t send it on now, but I’ll try to remember. You’d better dun me – you know my memory! I’ve nothing to write about & no brains to put words to it if I had, but I rather want the companionship of writing. Though it’s really mere companionship of presence without words I want most. Life’s gone curiously narrow. It’s very pleasant so. I seem to be asleep, while my outside goes on talking & working. It doesn’t make any difference to the talk & work, apparently, and it’s nice not to mind things. People are very kind – even casual ones like waitresses & busmen. I’m falling asleep – I’d better go to bed. It’s cooler for the rain. Remember me to Clach na Beinn & the four little woods, and the path down the line. Has Orion begun to walk on the hills yet? I think I’m beginning to at last to possess the things I’ve had. So it doesn’t matter if I die, now.

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16   nan shepherd’s correspondence Goodnight, my dear. Good luck for the new session. I’ll be thinking of you this week. I didn’t forget you in church yesterday. Yours. M. Notes Also my chief is ill: John Hay Lobban (1871–1939) was head of the department of English Literature at this time. Daunt: Beatrice Marjorie Daunt, a lecturer at Birkbeck who specialised in Old English. II Bgia in 1915: likely a reference to a class taught by Agnes Mure Mackenzie during her short stint at Aberdeen Training College. the face of the hills: Nan Shepherd found lodgings for Agnes Mure Mackenzie near her home in Cults, and the two often walked together. ‘Peace, peace seems all’: from ‘The Bishop Orders His Tomb at Saint Praxed’s Church’ by Robert Browning (1845). Boots hadn’t any of the books: Boots, better known now as a pharmacist, used to sell books. Miss Wolton is having a book published: Agnes S. Walton. Mackenzie dedicated her novel The Quiet Lady (1926) to Walton. Clach na Beinn: Clachnaben, a prominent hill lying just south of Banchory in Aberdeenshire.

From: Agnes Mure Mackenzie, to Nan Shepherd No address MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2750/6 [No date, end of 1921] [Letter starts abruptly] taken it [deafness, annotated in another hand] so for granted in myself that it is only of late I recognise the little shock & chill it gives people, those here, perhaps, for Londoners are more inclined to like me than Aberdeen people were as a rule – and an English lecturer who is any good at all is bound to be included in the imaginative appeal of her subject-matter. By the way, I didn’t remember how much of Tennyson’s Ulysses is undiluted Dante! Did I tell you that after I’d filled out the end of a rather short Tennyson lecture last year by spouting Ulysses in bulk a ferventeyed youth dashed at me to inquire (α) how I spell the name of the poem, and (β) where he could get it as soon as possible!!!!

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Heigho – I doubt I am needing to begin the new year by mortifying the flesh – & the bank balance – at the dentists. A really decent state wd. have an efficient state dental service & not make you pay through the nose for being tortured through the mouth! By the way, I’m fighting the Immortal fiends for a £12 overcharge! So I don’t know if I do want a state anything service unless I can run it myself – or preferably put Mother on to it. I am beginning to cock an eye at the door for lunch. I wish I had your ladylike appetite. Of course I’m on convalescent diet & I want something much more bulgy – suet pudding & pea soup & etherealities like that. Alan and Janet have begun to worry me again. I have to start the damn thing earlier than the play, & though I know the psychology of their relation all right I can’t get action that will project it satisfactorily & I’m unwilling to have recourse to the much less satisfying method of just telling about it. Its too clumsy. I’m afraid I shall have to begin with Ch. III or so – the present opening of the play, and that means a lot of extra work when I join up. Can you give me some nice quotations to give an elegant finish to my chapter-heads & show the reviewers I am a Person of Culture? I suppose if I leave out authors’ names (which is Very Cultured) I can invent a few, as I used to do in Grierson’s exam-papers. Blank-verse with an Elizabethan tang shd. come easy to a Birkbeckist. Lunch arrived there. It is now 6pm. I have twiddled my fingers, gazed at the ceiling and occasionally turned over in the interval. I don’t feel like further exercise. Three days more & then the big world again. I say, Nancy, if I peg out before its done, will you polish off Without Conditions? I mean if I get the thing roughed out. I know you don’t like it, so don’t make any promises! I’ve thought of a title for my poems at last – Eterna ab Extremo – hows that? Salicit ‘amoris’, of course, but the G.8. needn’t supply it. A good New Year to you, Nancy. Better than this one, certainly. By the way, there’s to be a spare bed in St George’s Square if you can turn over on a 2 ft 6 mattress without falling off & spoiling the People Below’s electric light gadgets. Friends please accept this the only intimation & invitation. Selah    Yours        M. And I didn’t think I’d be allowed to smoke & I’d only three gaspers in my case & two of them are smoked! Wowl! Mortification of the flesh & then some. It’s to be hoped my soul profiteth thereby in 1922! Are the hepaticcies out yet? And the wee yellow thingies with the green Toby collars?

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18   nan shepherd’s correspondence Notes Alan and Janet have begun to worry me again: characters from Agnes Mure Mackenzie’s novel Without Conditions, which would be published in 1923. Grierson’s exam-papers: Herbert Grierson (1866–1960), who established English Literature at Aberdeen University. His expertise was wide, but he had a particular affection for the Renaissance. will you polish off Without Conditions: Mackenzie was at this time at work on Without Conditions, her first novel. Eterna ab Extremo – hows that? Salicit ‘amoris’, of course: Latin, ‘eternity from extremity’, which is ‘from love’. Selah: an expression used often by Mackenzie. It is possibly taken from the Hebrew, meaning ‘to lift up’ or ‘to exalt’, though scholarship suggests the word might also have significance as musical notation, where it might indicate a pause. Are the hepaticcies out yet: a reference to hepaticas, a family of perennials in the buttercup family.

From: Agnes Mure Mackenzie, to Nan Shepherd No address MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2750 [No date, January 1923] Thanks for the letter & the lavender. It’s a commendable habit. I lie on my back in a high narrow bed like an altar (but comfortable) in a little creamcolour room with a fire & a small window that shows a bare tree with a sparrow in it, and am looked after by a pretty little Scots maid, with a Raeburn face & a Perthshire accent. The upshot is that London is far away & mythical and I’m back in Aberdeen – theres a pot of jasmine from Jean’s garden on the table too. Is it out in Alford Place yet? Jean is home now, until, I suppose, the end of next week. I must have been more tired than I knew, for I’ve been growing tireder and tireder since I came here. But when I touch rock-bottom I shall bounce. I do absolutely nothing but read Dante at intervals. I’ve got up to the first circle of Purgatory. Crespi, our Xtian lecturer, wants me to read some Italian with him. I’d rather like to, only I don’t much like Crespi! I haven’t read the Comedy through since ’14. And thats a long time ago. I’ve learnt, among other things, to understand Gemma Donati. One knows very little of Gemma: but I can see now that it isn’t necessary to condone her! It is quite possible that she understood about Beatrice – and that Dante knew it. I don’t think he could have written Il Paradiso if not. Either he had a very real love for Gemma, and knew it not disloyal to Beatrice – or his love for Beatrice to her – and could trust her comprehension, or else

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Gemma was merely a domestic animal or an aberration. There were aberrations in his career: he paid for them in admitting them. But Gemma as an aberration is not reconcilable with the close of Il Purgatorio – D was far too fine a gentleman if he’d married her then, & he couldn’t have married her afterwards & been Dante. And the domestic animal isn’t like the man. Marriage, even forced marriage, meant a lot to Dante, or he wouldn’t have put Francesca in irremediable hell, with all his passionate pity of her. Of course its half a dozen others. No twice, 1 being the occasion, he has been in circumstances that sift a man to the bottom: and if God will remember to him [letter ends abruptly] Notes with a Raeburn face: a reference to the work of Scottish portraitist Henry Raeburn (1756–1823), whose work often featured unsoftened, characteristically Scottish, faces. Jean is home now: Jean Mackenzie, Agnes Mure’s sister and lifelong companion. Crespi, our Xtian lecturer: Angelo Crespi, a lecturer in the Italian department at Birkbeck. Gemma Donati: wife of Dante Alighieri and the subject of scholarly discussion about her role in Dante’s writing. not disloyal to Beatrice: the idealised saviour of Dante in the Divine Comedy. he wouldn’t have put Francesca in irremediable hell: Francesca da Rimini (1255–c. 1285), who appears in the Divine Comedy in the second circle of hell. Married by her father to the family of his enemy to secure the peace, Francesca fell in love with her husband’s younger brother, Paolo. The pair were murdered when they were discovered by Francesca’s husband, Giovanni. In Dante’s poem she is given the chance to tell her story from hell.

From: Agnes Mure Mackenzie, to Nan Shepherd No address MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2750/7 [No date, 1923] Nancy my dear, last week at this time it was 80 in the shade. Now I am wearing more clothes than I have all winter, with a rug on my knees & a hot-water-bottle mediis in rebus. I’ve got something of a chill – plus other things. And autumn is going strong & icy outside – ‘pattering the sharp sleet Upon the window pane’ between cold sun. Thanks many times for R. A. T. [annotated Shepherd’s hand: Rachel Annand Taylor’s Renaissance]. Its interesting, vivid, beautiful – and

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20   nan shepherd’s correspondence unsatisfying, like all her work. She has the sterility of the courtesan in her. Not, of course, of the paid lady of pleasure, but the experimentalist in life as a source of personal sensations. Love to her – marvellously as she analyses & renders what she does know of it – is essentially a sensation an experience, not a mode of being or action. /(i.e. its wholly within the self)/ Of course that does not disqualify her from for writing of the Renaissance – far from it, for it’s a Renaissance attitude, especially in Italy. Which is why Ren. Italy produced such marvels of painting & sculpture, but no equivalent literature. In the North, its in the secondary personalities you get that attitude – hence literature is the supreme art for the great men. Mrs. Taylor has never grown up. The attitude’s a normal & healthy one for adolescence. But as a permanent one, its apt to become an elegant vacuum. The woman who wrote Fiammetta fifteen years ago ought to have been a superb poet, but she hasn’t. She has stuck in the 1890s – the fry of small self-conscious poets who were so busy being themselves they never had time to become anything bigger. Which doesn’t mean that the Ren. isn’t a brilliant affair. She has got it exactly, from its own point of view. And the tragedy is she isn’t capable of seeing it from any other. I am horribly sorry. Fiammetta was such a big thing in its limits, and she ought to have grown past them. Both my chiefs are away at once. Cheers. And I’ve lost, & I’m afraid destroyed, the elaborate notes for the Shakespeare book, & can’t reconstruct them. I am working rather wearily through the early plays, I haven’t seen Evans yet about it, but I suppose Heinemanns will take it all right. I think I can do it well enough to be quite worth reading. Thanks for the student extract. I don’t know that many people share his liking for Janet. The usual verdict is ‘morbid’ – wh. I did not intend her to be. I meant her to be tired & overstrung, but sound at bottom. As to Alan – I think I was too sensible to look for subtlety. Stability was what she preferred & he is not without sensitiveness when he realises the need for it. I’m interested in watching you work at Maggie. I wonder which really is the best way – you writing bits to be co-ordinated later, or my solemn march along the road. I doubt if I tried your way, though, I shd. find I’d nothing left for the connective tissue. I’m sweir to give up Mrs. Brodie, but I’m disheartened to find the critical argument ‘crinolines [therefore] “period story” can’t possibly have any interest as a study of personal relations.’ I thought in my innocence that by putting them in a setting of simpler, more orderly life than is normal nowadays I could handle them more in isolation, with fewer cross-currents – take the situation on its pure human values, without grinding theoretical apes. If I write another novel I’m going to place it in a Bradford suburb, and smash every decently constructed sentence into the idiom of the Daily Mail. Apparently it isn’t done in this advanced age to have any sense of beauty if you take your people & their experience seriously. Certainly it doesn’t often appear! I want my lunch! Which is overshadowed by the necessity of reading Titus Andronicus & then writing about it.

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Do read Chevalley’s Roman anglais contemporaire (Oxford Univ. Press) Herewith the beads. I grieve to find the end form & the cross have disappeared in transit somewhere. However there are quite enough to wreathe you to the knees. I don’t know how any human-being could say prayers on a gadget like that. It cost, I may remark, a shade over 1/ – sterling. I go to fry an egg. Its exciting, as four of the last eight years were duds – though not in the artillery sense! And I’ve torn my right thumb nail in a way that catches on every damn thing & will take three weeks to grow off! Wowl! I wonder if I dare come to A. this summer? I’m not sure if I could stand it. Advance sales of W. Con. 286 – £7.18.6 for the author. That’s before publication, though, so I can hope for another £10 anyhow. These are only the London returns – no word of U. S. A. yet. I hope I can get £50 out of it. That means, I think, H’s will have recovered their outlay, & I want them to do that. In spite of annoyances of delay, they’ve been consistently decent. Good luck. Grow fat & continue Maggie. Thine M Notes mediis in rebus: Latin joke, ‘in the middle of things’. ‘pattering the sharp sleet Upon the window pane’: from John Keats’s poem, The Eve of St. Agnes (1820). R. A. T.: Rachel Annand Taylor’s (1876–1960) Aspects of the Italian Renaissance was published in 1923. The woman who wrote Fiammetta: The Hours of Fiammetta: A Sonnet Sequence by Taylor had been published in 1910. Both my chiefs are away at once: Mackenzie worked under John Hay Lobban (1871–1939) at Birkbeck. I haven’t seen Evans yet: Charles Seddon Evans (1883–1944), editor at Heinemann. the elaborate notes for the Shakespeare book: likely an early draft of The Women in Shakespeare’s Plays, which would be published in 1924 by Heinemann. share his liking for Janet: Janet and Alan, characters from Agnes Mure Mackenzie’s novel Without Conditions, which had recently been published. watching you work at Maggie: Maggie Hunter, the character in Shepherd’s story ‘Speirin’ Jean’, which she was working up for publication and which would appear in 1924 in Alma Mater Special Hospitals Number. Maggie would evolve into Martha Ironside, the protagonist of Shepherd’s first novel, The Quarry Wood (1928).

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22   nan shepherd’s correspondence I’m sweir to give up Mrs. Brodie: a reference to Mackenzie’s novel Without Conditions (1923), and the character who is married to one of her protagonists, Harry Brodie. Chevalley’s Roman anglais contemporaire: Le Roman Anglais de Notre Temps by Abel Chevalley, published in 1921. Herewith the beads: Mackenzie was sending Shepherd rosary beads. W. Con.: Without Conditions, Mackenzie’s first novel, published in 1923. H’s: Heinemann, who often published Mackenzie’s work.

From: Agnes Mure Mackenzie, to Nan Shepherd No address MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2750/8 [No date, 1923] I’m sorry about the inside. Dinna misconduct yissel yon gait, lassie! I hope its better. I’ll be pleased to meet Maggie Hunter, even in bits – & your fist. Your remarks about adding to the flood &c. made me chuckle. Been there. My dear young friend, you won’t begin to feel the screw till the book’s sold and you’re waiting for the proofs. Conception, gestation, even the preliminary throes of selling the thing aren’t a patch on that. I doubt if even the reviews will be – they’ve less of the Bogg in them & I don’t mind Trolls plain. Its not the feeling of having ‘made oneself a motley to the view’ – though you’ll probably have that worse than I have. Its beyond the egotisms. Its the sheer deadly terror of having failed to make the thing intelligible, of not having translated the theme into a comprehensible language – or at least into a language that will carry it without falsifying it. Its beyond even the feel or fear of wasted labour, of having suffered for something still-born. Its worse than one can feel for oneself. And I shall have to wait for the reviews. Some of them are bound, I suppose, to miss the point. Its not likely to be visible to anyone who hasn’t a certain idiom of living. But if some of them get it, it will do. Only I’m so conscious of the appalling flaws in the textures – of events, not, I think, style as such. I’ve lost even any conviction of the validity of the theme per se, apart from my handling of it. And as to the handling – it gives me a physical pain to see the MS. on the top of my bookcase. Well – The strain of waiting for the next stage is curiously heavy. I dream about the proofs and wake miserable to find they haven’t come! Mrs. B. isn’t getting on but in my head. It has to end in tragedy. The tragedy – or the death in it – is not the climax, though, merely the the avoidance of anti-climax – the salt to the real one. But its going to take every ounce I’ve got & I’ve small hope of succeeding with it – I mean to

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myself. It needs not only extreme tact but – especially later – a spaciousness of treatment I doubt I can’t rise to. Spaciousness & driving force. If I can’t get sheer passion into it – the passion that has gone far enough to be smiling – it will fall as flat as day-before-yesterday’s soda-water with tobacco ash in it. And it will have to get it without flourishes. If I’m ornate, I go bust. And I want Deeside behind it, & don’t see it. Partly its the sheer size – bulk. Three quatrains or a column of Alma is about my average for finished work. W. Con. felt the size of the Faerie Queene. This needs about 60000 words I shd. think & its a mountain – (Its about the average novel!) – Awell – You’ll get the space all right, I fancy! Also the drive. Where you’re likeliest to miss fire is a certain indifference to your audience – a lazyness (spelling!) over making the direct impact. Probably it will matter less in prose. It’s the gravest fault you have in verse, & the one that always annoys me. You spoil really big things at times because you blur the edges. I don’t mean because their appeal is complex – there I envy you, merely. But you leave too much marble on the statue. (There is a Rodin flavour about your best work, by the way) I’ve seen very little of your prose, and it interests me to speculate about the difference between it & your verse. Especially in dialogue, for its the weakness of your verse that one does not always hear the voice in it. Or I don’t: You seem to use words as tesserae – their quality in shape & colour (gorgeous colour sometimes) not sound & rhythm. The result is fresco, not stained glass. (Metaphors getting wild – ‘think this over’) Fresco is a fine thing – but you need glass for ordinary speech. There has to be a light through it that is – almost conspicuously – not in it. Apart from our own practice, the technique of dialogue has been interesting me just now. So few people had it before 1900. Chaucer has, of course. Kipling has notably, & Stevenson & Scott in Scots. Scott’s Doric speech is as good as his English is – well. I won’t say bad. It is, I think, a convention, as blank verse is. But its a convention gone by, & to me unconvincing. I think it is now (without labour) only tolerable to those who read word by word, for the meaning. I mean, who don’t read by the sentence, & get the sentence-shape as a moulded unit. The art of dialogue, as I see it, consists in making the rhythms do the work, not the words. Get the words that carry – as barely as possible – your (intellectual) significance, and pose them so that the sentence – or phrase – can only be read as one pattern of rhythm /(and of course vowel & consonant quality)/ that gives the inflection of the voice. It is that that carries emotional tone – even personality if one’s skilful enough in the trick of it. That & knowing where to begin & end the broken sentences of spoken speech so as to get the pace right. You know the awful deliberateness of Scott’s heroic dialogue! I’ve abandoned the idea of publishing my verse, but it has been jolly well worth writing as a training in making that rhythm-pattern strike significance into commonplace words. I don’t mean I’ve succeeded! Wowl! As if I hadn’t enough classes to haver at! And, thanks be, I’m getting on to the Romantic Revival & there’ll be some potery [sic] to

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24   nan shepherd’s correspondence spout. I’m tired of the 18th. century, even as illuminated by Goldsmith’s ordination breeches Goodnight! I’m going to fill bottles. Good luck to Maggie – though it’s a name I love not. Yours M Notes I’ll be pleased to meet Maggie Hunter: Maggie Hunter, the character in Shepherd’s story ‘Speirin’ Jean’, which she was working up for publication and which would appear in 1924 in Alma Mater Special Hospitals Number. Maggie would evolve into Martha Ironside, the protagonist of Shepherd’s first novel, The Quarry Wood (1928). ‘made oneself a motley to the view’: from Shakespeare’s Sonnet 110. Mrs. B. isn’t getting on but in my head: Miss Helen Brodie, a character from Mackenzie’s novel Without Conditions (1923). The novel is set in the area around Aberdeen. Three quatrains or a column of Alma: Alma Mater, the Aberdeen University magazine that Mackenzie previously edited. W. Con.: Without Conditions, Mackenzie’s first novel, published in 1923. by Goldsmith’s ordination breeches: writer Oliver Goldsmith (1728–74), who supposedly attended his ordination service in scarlet breeches, offending the bishop, who refused to ordain him.

From: Agnes Mure Mackenzie, to Nan Shepherd Address: None MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2750/9 [No date, 1924/5] Nancy my dear, many thanks for the offer of the book. I shall be very glad to have it, especially as your gift. I regret to hear you are so thorough in your study of Rupert Brooke. If you must give such practical illustrations of the sonnets, why not buy the respectable citizenship of the Sonnet Reversed? You sound rather that way inclined. I rejoice deeply in the T. C. performance. Its high time they recognised you as officially Head of the Dept (wh. I suppose they have not done?) Anyhow, the other’s so far on the road. I was enormously tickled by your remarks on the effect of my word on your judgment of yours. Yours gives me corresponding sensations – makes me wriggle over the thinness & flatness of my stuff. Probably we’re both wrong. But I wouldn’t publish a joint volume with you for a kingdom.

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I suppose I have more sense of time than you – I ought to, seeing technique has always been one of my main interests – but I’ve nothing of your colour, spaciousness or subtlety. And I owe the advantage in time merely to the fact that (in this point!) I’m a lot less lazy. I’m glad you think it sounds well. Having been brought up a prosodist, I was deliberately trying to make the rhythm do as much work as possible without flagrant onomatopoeia. What I can’t be sure of is the psychology & the reviews so far are no help. The Times gave me a rather good one – in the middle, thank the Lord, & not pat-on-the-head-y. But its all about style & atmosphere. I am evidently to be ‘distinguished’ [deletion], ‘delicate’ and ‘austere’ to the last chapter. What a blessing paper jackets must be to reviewers! Well, austerity (or economy) was one thing I was after, and all just words have ‘distinction’ if they’re decently literate. But I jalouse the Times mannie hadn’t read the book. I’ve started to learn fencing, by the way, /(tho I’m not contemplating combats with reviewers!)/ I’m not sure yet how far a deaf lug is going to interfere, but the maître is a Frenchman, & like most of the French people I’ve met, awfully nice about it, & has a fund of expressive gestures. The trouble will come when I’m so far on that we both need masks. I hope I can carry on, though. There’s a Hielant streak that loves the rip of the blades. But I’ve always been a duffer at picking up new motor combinations. Just done a large wash, & ah me, am spring-cleaning tonight & tomorrow. I’m a lot better than I was. To my intense disquiet I went off sleep again as soon as I got back, but since the weather changed I’ve been better. I’m much more alive than I’ve been since last summer. I am now going to take off my skirt & shoes, and (with a carpet-beater) assault an imaginary antagonist: thereafter lunch. Selah. If you’ve any more Maggie done, lets have a look at her. Only I’ll probably return the MS. in person. If you knew what I’d give for the sun going down over Clack-na-beinn – London’s excellent for a (short) holiday. It may be tolerable if one has money. But not otherwise. And I don’t see how I am ever to get out of it, unless by writing enough for a living. And I don’t see the remotest likelihood of that. I’ve abandoned both my novels. It may be cowardice, but I don’t care. I can do as serviceable work in criticism, and it costs less. There’s always room for good criticism, though of course its like everything else scientific – merely for a day. I haven’t enough vitality for adequate creation. Technically I’m as good as some of the quite-big people, but my stuff’s bloodless. I haven’t got the guts. And I haven’t the necessary contact with life. I don’t know how people talk. And generally speaking, I want my lunch. Thine M. Don’t omit Kittredge’s Chaucer from your library. O. U. Press.

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26   nan shepherd’s correspondence Notes the Sonnet Reversed: by Rupert Brooke (1887–1915), and included in The Collected Poems of Rupert Brooke: with a Memoir (London: Sidgwick and Jackson, 1919). Shepherd was working on a study of his work. the T. C. performance: the Training College in Aberdeen, where Shepherd worked. She was not officially made Head of Department, but had taken on more responsibility. Selah: an expression used often by Mackenzie. It is possibly taken from the Hebrew, meaning ‘to lift up’ or ‘to exalt’, though scholarship suggests the word might also have significance as musical notation, where it might indicate a pause. any more Maggie done: by this time Shepherd had begun to write The Quarry Wood in earnest, though its origins in her short story ‘Speirin’ Jean’ were still evident. The heroine’s name would soon be changed to Martha. Clack-na-beinn: Clachnaben, a prominent hill lying just south of Banchory in Aberdeenshire. Kittredge’s Chaucer: Chaucer and His Poetry by George Lyman Kittredge, published originally by Harvard University Press in 1915.

From: Agnes Mure Mackenzie, to Nan Shepherd Address: None MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2750/10 [No date, 1925] ‘Poor lassie’ says myself. I’m awfully sorry Brother Orr has gone down again. It’s a mercy one is permitted to believe that we shall resurrect with improvements! I hope it’s only a temporary out-of-gear-ness. As to things here. No job yet. I enclose a spoilt copy of the specification, & hope you are impressed. The list of accomplishments looks rather absurd, but it is a great advantage to a reader to know a little about an assortment of things. Though I’m not quite sure if it may not be countered by the English theory that (à la Dolphy) if you know about more than one thing you’re no good. I’ve had a mild dose of flu & it has left me rather boneless. Its a lovely morning, but I feel rather tired, & not at all like correcting. I’ll send the proofs up when they come, but they aren’t likely to be till next month. The time-clause in the contract gives till 22nd May, & they aren’t likely to be less. I hope I can get the book to press before the vac. The new one is worriting and fermenting, but nothing comes of it. I think I am a bit tired with one thing and another. I wish writing wasn’t such a hideously fatiguing business: its such a relief to feel, however temporarily, that one is effecting something, if its only stringing words into a pattern.

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And if I’m to be stranded at Winterbank for an indefinite time I must get the draft done – pure creative writing wd. be as nearly impossible as may be there. I cd. revise & do critical work, but can’t get the security of isolation to let stuff crystallise in vacuo. Oh – talking of isolation. The Contemporary Review has an article on ‘Some Present-day Women Novelists’. Your humble servant her contribution to the data is ‘a dignified (!) and attractive story of the Scottish Highlands in the 18th. century.’ How’s that for Lower Deeside in 1848?? Such is fame. But every second reviewer insists that the book is Highland which annoys me violently. I’m awfully sorry about The Quarry Wood But you simply aren’t fit for the strain just now. I’m different – my Coll. work this year and last is indecently light (hence my departure) & I did the first one in a term when (having done a lot of my chiefs work the term before) he was doing my Pass class for me. You couldn’t write on top of your heavy T. C. work. Have some sense wumman! Forgive the ink & orange-juice that besprinkle this. I’ve developed a passion for oranges & devour them at all hours. Its good for me as I’ve had a deal of nervitis of late & don’t want it to settle, so I just go on devouring. I could stay on in the Fencing Club when I leave, but I doubt if I’d have energy to go down on purpose. Even as it is, its sometimes a bother to fasten up buttons! The orthodox kit is a short tight white canvas jacket with a high collar – like an old fashioned riding-habit, but double-breasted – a full black satin skirt cut like Leezie Lindsay’s, a little above the knee, black knickers & heelless shoes. And the bother of changing nearly overcomes my enthusiasm some nights. I shall miss it awfully if I have to stop, though. If I get a decent screw I’ll join one of the East End Salles d’armes – they’re nearer, and I could get a fight at any time. I must correct & preface Il Penseroso for a very dull class. Instead of clinging to teaching while its left to me, I have suddenly wanted to get out of it. Its pure deafness though, I think – the periodical craving to get away where it doesn’t matter. Spring in London is a tiring time. Thanks for the information about light. I think the chapter will do. It may as easily be late February as middle, & I’ve made it simply daybreak – ‘a cold clear spring dawn’. You could see the valley then, I think, and I imagine Harry Brodie, in an upper room with an uncurtained window, could make up /out/ the colour of his wife’s hair (chestnut) if he were close to her. The time is fixed by a striking clock, & it has to be about that. These celestial considerations are the devil! I could knock out the bit about Olivia’s hair, but it helps to give the colour that I want, and that chapter was such a nightmare job to write I don’t want to tinker any more at it. It’s the last chapter and – oh, the whole thing feels the most damnable mess. I’ve so absolutely failed to get down what I saw in the thing. I feel I’ve failed with it, but I can’t see where. I can’t cut out any more without making it unintelligible, and I’ve condensed to the bone – perhaps too much. It seems to me to be absolutely void of feeling (but so does Without

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28   nan shepherd’s correspondence Conditions, and some of the reviewers seem to have found genuine emotion in that) and it seems on the other hand to be sentimentally emotionalforced. I’m absolutely sick of and with it. So sick that it is hampering the new one, making me self-conscious over it. Partly its the sense that they are in a key that current fiction doesn’t use – though heaven knows that is an excellent justification for them! – if only their key isn’t falsetto. If there’s the smallest touch of that in the book its dead failure. And its an impossible thing to judge oneself. I must correct, if I can keep awake. I’m most awful sleepy. Peace be with you, and get yourself better, lassie. Life’s an ill enough job without this illness shouldn’t attend it. Oh dear – let’s go and get drunk! Yours M Qualifications, etc., of AGNES MURE MACKENZIE., 304 Elm Tree Road Mansions, N.W.S. Age, 33. Degrees, etc. M.A., D. Litt., Aberdeen. First Class Honours, English Language and Literature, supplemented by the following, on Pass standard: Mediaeval History and Moral Philosophy – prizes; Logic and Metaphysics – high distinction; Latin and Botany – distinction. In addition, a fair working knowledge of general psychology – not merely of the theories of Herr Freud – and also of the theory of education. Much practical experience of domestic science, including fine needlework. Good French translation. Experience in indexing. Experience,  1914–18. Lecturer in English, Aberdeen Training Centre.  1915–18. University Assistant in English, University of Aberdeen.  1918–20. On staff of the Rev. James Hastings, D.D. Editor of the Encyclopaedia of Religion and Ethics.  1920–present. Lecturer in English, Birkbeck College, University of London. Recognised Teacher of the University. Publications,  1915. Selections from Malory: with historical and linguistic introductions, notes, and glossary. Harrap.  1919. Anthology of Aberdeen University verse. (With Miss Nan Shepherd.) Lindsay.  1923. Without Conditions. (novel) Heinemann, London Doubleday, Page, New York.

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nan shepherd’s correspondence: 1920–1980   29  1924. The Women in Shakespeare’s Plays. Heinemann. In the press. The Half Loaf. (novel) Heinemann: Doubleday, Page.

References, As my testimonials are all academic (Dr Hastings is dead) I have not included copies, but I should be pleased to forward these, or British and American press notices, if required. The head of my department, Mr J. H. Lobban (Birkbeck College, Breams Buildings, E.C.4.) is good enough to permit me to give his name as reference. Free, Any time after the end of April, though July-September would be preferable. I can do trial work at any time. Interview, I am free on Monday afternoons and Tuesday or Friday mornings. Salary, £300 for whole-time work. Notes Brother Orr has gone down again: possibly a reference to the novelist Christine Orr (1899–1963). à la Dolphy: a reference to the opinions of Adolphus Alfred Jack (1868–1946), Professor of English Literature at Aberdeen University, whose views were at odds with Mackenzie’s. The new one is worriting: likely a reference to Mackenzie’s novel The Quiet Lady, which would be published in 1926. stranded at Winterbank: the house in Queensbury, near Bradford in Yorkshire, that Mackenzie had visited since at least 1915. How’s that for Lower Deeside in 1848: a reference to Mackenzie’s novel Without Conditions (1923), which is set outside Aberdeen in 1848. my chiefs work: Mackenzie worked under John Hay Lobban (1871–1939) while lecturing at Birkbeck. your heavy T. C. work: Training College work, which was significant at this time as Shepherd had taken on additional responsibilities. I could stay on in the Fencing Club when I leave: while working as a lecturer at Birkbeck Mackenzie had taken up fencing near to her department, but had subsequently been dismissed from her post. a full black satin skirt cut like Leezie Lindsay’s: in the traditional Scottish ballad, Leezie Lindsay has ‘a gown o’ green satin’. preface Il Penseroso: poem by John Milton (1608–74), written in 1632. I imagine Harry Brodie: one of the protagonists in Mackenzie’s novel Without Conditions (1923).

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From: Agnes Mure Mackenzie, to Nan Shepherd No address MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2750/12 [No date, 1925] Nancy wumman. I am no hand at letters. I have a bad habit of talking to people in absentia and consequently think I have written things when I have only said them. I could have sworn to telling you months ago that your poems had come back & were somewhere in my paper box. Do you want them? I expect Russell is dead of it. He was a lush man. Glad to hear the QW. /The Quarry Wood/ is getting on. By revision being enjoyable I mean those hopeful moments when the thing has staggered on to paper in some sort of concrete form, & the possibility is still before one of making that from something like what was in one’s mind. Its a lull between the forcing of the original image to embody itself and the sense of the horrible differences between the original idea & accomplished fact. I don’t know that I am very capable of it now myself – I’ve failed too often now to hope for much. When one has not written one believes that the concrete image, if one took the trouble to create it, would automatically reproduce the mental one. Of course, many people who have written never realise that it hasn’t – as I needn’t tell an examiner! And of course there are the moments when the ink’s still wet & the written paragraph & the image have not yet separated, when one believes that one has DONE IT this time! My sympathies on the Scots Renaissance. Thank the Lord I have only two sentences of Scots in mine! I hear someone has been objecting (an Englishwoman) to my ‘flaming spats’ on the grounds that spats can only be used of water! Lets take to writing as per sample enclosed, and then the reviewers will really admire us. The Lady /The Quiet Lady/, thanks be, has gone to press. ‘Thank God and there’s an end of that’ – bar the reviews, and they aren’t likely to provide many surprises. I’ve seen so much enthusiastic yawping over vulgar sentimentality ([deletion] whether of the [deletion] treacky or the muddy kind) that praise has ceased to give me any pleasure, except in so far as it enhances my sales: relevant condemnation is generally less forcible than my own: and irrelevant is irritating anyhow. I’m afraid you’ll be in for a lot of the irrelevant – both praise & blame. Superficially the Q. W. is what has been done often & often – though luckily for you, the biography from infancy to the first love-affair is still very fashionable, & in London the Kailyard School is now forgotten, so you may escape some of the damning. The fact of its fundamental originality will only strike the better people. Heinemann’s imprint will be of use to you there, though, as with a paper that’s any good a H. book will probably escape the office-boy! You’re less likely to be damned than to be praised

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for all the wrong reasons. There is a formula for your kind of fiction, & as I say, its a fashionable kind. So lots of people will just discuss (and praise) not what you’ve written but what Llewellyn Powys would have written if he’d been handling your subject. Remember the description of me as describing Harry as being ‘physiologically inadequate’ to his wife’s needs! Few things make me blush, but that did! Comforting, aren’t I? However, it doesn’t matter. What they say doesn’t affect the book. And that’s good. Probably it isn’t as good as you meant it to be. But it is good anyhow. And there are, even among literary critics, people who’ll be able to see it so. Even I have found that, & my work is much less in the current trend than yours. Your defects are those in the air just now – they’ll pass without much notice. The merits of it are solid and real. The whole thing struck me as being essentially substantial – by which I don’t mean heavy! It has a large vitality that can carry defects of detail that would sink my fragile stuff. Also, remember, it has both. It’s big enough to stand a lapse or two. I’m anxious to see the end, but even if it has gone off (which I’ve no reason to anticipate) there was enough in the rest to make a telling book. And I’m in this trade, & consequently can avoid that annoying habit of one’s friends of (α) thinking that what one has written is all that one wants to say (I suppose somebody told Shakespeare about 1598 that his point of view was essentially frivolous) and (β) of thinking that one must be quite satisfied with a book because one prints it! I hope I’ll get it from the Times, in which case I can give it a really useful shove. Lately I’ve made a very good shot with Evans, & my critical star stands high there. So I may be able to speed things up – I won’t say sell it; for you’d do that anyhow without difficulty. I fancy, too, that it has the making of fat sales. You know, its fundamentally rather like Sheila KayeSmith (I don’t mean in any vindictive sense.) And she sells very largely – over the 30000 mark. I shall be surprised if you’re under 10000 even with a first book. I’m stuck badly in Beaumont & Fletcher & can write nothing (after this!) I’m not in the least ill, but my mind has gone completely dead. Rather awkward, as there’s still no prospect of a job, & I’ve had no outside work for weeks. I’m trying to get some advertising booklets to do for shipping companies, but I’m rather ignorant of the market. However, the Lady shd. be out in March, & I can hang on until the advance royalties are due. My love to the snowdrops. Yours M. Notes in London the Kailyard School: a group of writers active in the late nineteenth century, including J. M. Barrie, stood accused by critics in both London and Scotland of producing overly sentimental writing about rural life in Scotland. Shepherd’s

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32   nan shepherd’s correspondence novel The Quarry Wood, with its fond but clear-sighted descriptions of rural life, was unlikely to be derided for any mawkishness. what Llewellyn Powys would have written: Llewellyn Powys (1884–1939), a prolific novelist and writer across multiple genres. Harry as being ‘physiologically inadequate’: a reference to characters in Mackenzie’s earlier novel Without Conditions (1923). It has not been possible to identify the review mentioned by Mackenzie. I’ve made a very good shot with Evans: Charles Seddon Evans (1883–1944), editor at Heinemann. its fundamentally rather like Sheila Kaye-Smith: Sheila Kaye-Smith (1887–1956), whose novels were firmly rooted in the countryside of Kent and Sussex. Like Shepherd she lived most of her life in the place she wrote about. I’m stuck badly in Beaumont & Fletcher: Francis Beaumont (c. 1585–1616) and John Fletcher (1579–1625), a famous playwriting team active in the reign of James I of Great Britain (1603–25). Mackenzie seems to have been at work at this time on what would become The Playgoers’ Handbook to the English Renaissance Drama (1927).

From: Agnes Mure Mackenzie, to Nan Shepherd Address: None MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2750/13h [No date, possibly 1925] Nancy wumman, you’ve done it with a vengeance. The inevitable comparison, of course, is with The Mill on the Floss. And as my reasoned and professional judgment, I say now that The Quarry Wood is the better of the two. It has George Eliots qualities and avoids her major lack. That being said, I proceed to lay a heavy hand over it. Understand, the things that I object to do not seriously damage one’s impression of it as a whole. But they do injure many individual passages, and the injury would be so easily amended one doesn’t see why it should remain. There’s nothing wrong in the stuff of it. That is first-rate: as I say, the thing is a great book, if there’s any meaning in the adjective. And the general lay-out is all right: the arrangement is logical & inevitable. What’s wrong is in the actual writing. I fancy the root of it is the habit of lecturing – & I fancy of lecturing without notes, too. The dialogue is excellent all through – the Scots especially, though I think you’ll be wise to give the book a glossary. Most of the landscape is singularly lovely: and most of the narrative is clear enough. (Theres one passage in a late chapter – about XIV or XV I think – of the coming on of autumn, that’s a rare bit of work.) But there are parts that suffer from your most dangerous failing – one that’s almost epidemic just now, and one which it is rather odd you should have. Every now and then the words so

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to speak clot on top of the meaning: one is conscious of them & not of their significance. /They cease to be transparent/ What makes it happen (apart from sheer damned carelessness!) is generally that having expressed your idea fully, you then proceed to say it – sometimes, I regret to say, even in journalese! There’s a flagrant case in the opening paragraph of Ch. XIII. The one sentence, ‘It was a love phillic’ cheapens your whole idea. You’ve already expressed that – you’ve even used the very word that crystallises your idea. What do you want to go and spoil a good effect for??? Probably you’ll see a good deal of this in the typescript or in proof. I’m not sure if I can take the typing on. I seem to have cracked, somehow. I thought I was well enough, but it seems I was just holding on, & my grip’s given. But I’ll see to it anyway. I am anxious to see the book out if you aren’t – much more concerned about it somehow than for either of my own. Possibly it’s because I am primarily a critic, and know its better worth being concerned about. As a critic, of course, the book has given me a most interesting insight into creative processes. It has been most illuminating to the critical side of me to see how in my own creative work the raw material of direct experience, experience desired, avoided, or merely observed objectively, directly or through other peoples reach, has been blended or transmuted to make a fresh whole. Naturally, I can’t do this as a rule with other people’s work. With yours, as you know, I can to a large extent (including tracing some bits of my own in it!) And to follow the process of transmutation, ordering, supplementing, modifying, and blending, in work with a quite different aesthetic method – epic, not as mine is dramatic, at the basis – is most interesting. As the creative process & impulse, especially in writing, interests me more than anything on earth, I think, you can guess I had entertainment. You know, I suppose, that this is not a case of prying into your own personal experiences? Quite apart from that, I should have found the book excellent reading. Indeed, it was so good that for the most part /when I was actually reading it/ my mind simply accepted the content of the narrative & went no further – some compliment to MS. with slabs of a not very familiar dialect in it! Martha, of course, is first-rate. Luke & Dussie are quite adequate. I didn’t really like Luke as a person (D. is charming) but your touch of astringency in the later chapters saves him as a character. I’m not sure that I believe quite in Macpherson’s attack on Foubister, but otherwise all the minors are good, & some are more. Geordie & Aunt J. & Clemie & Mary Annie are as good as all but one or two of the topmost things of the kind in Scott. (But I wonder what the summaries of the plot will be like???) Indeed, the only real fault in the thing is what I’ve said – the occasionally careless & clumsy prose when your imagination either flags or gets out of hand. And even that doesn’t keep it from being, without any qualifications or reservations, a big thing, finely conceived and finely achieved. I knew you’d do something pretty notable, but its bigger than I was expecting. Here’s t’ye! And give your lady mother my compliments – it’s auntie’s compliments.

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34   nan shepherd’s correspondence Now for business. Evans already knows of it. So in case I am ill or otherwise disqualified for being useful, send it to him /(not the firm)/ with a letter reminding him of what I said – C. S. Evans, then W. H. Ltd. 20 Bedford St. W. C. 2. Let him see to the American rights – I doubt if they’ll be worth much, but you’ll get as good terms through him as anywhere. Serial, dramatic, & film rights are of course valueless. Translation rights may be valuable later, though I am sorry for whoever tries to translate Geordie! Make E. give you a sliding royalty – i.e. 10% on the first 1000 (you’ll not get more on a first book) 121/2% up to 1500 then 15%. Stick out for that, for I think it will be a seller. I don’t think there’s any good asking for a fixed sum in advance on this one – anyhow, you aren’t hard up, so it doesn’t matter. Of course, this is all in case of accidents. I’ll tackle it myself if I’m able. I’m threatening the same old mess with the other autumn – it may be no more than just a cold in the ear, but it mayn’t! Unfortunately its my hearing side. Thanks for your letter. Dunvegan is in for an awfa shaking! But the attentions sound nice. Don’t kill yourself till you see the reviews! I’m going to try to lay my hands on it for the T. L. S. Aweel. I’m tired. And I forgot the most important bit of my Saturday shopping, so I’ll need away out for it. Good luck to the bairn. Yours M I forgot to mention that I thought Madge admirable, both as a study & as an element in the whole. Notes Evans already knows of it: Mackenzie had been searching for potential publishers for The Quarry Wood, and had been in discussions with Charles Seddon Evans (1883–1944), editor at Heinemann. Dunvegan is in for an awfa shaking: the name of Shepherd’s home in Cults.

From: Agnes Mure Mackenzie, to Nan Shepherd Address: None MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2750/14 [No date, 1925/6] [Letter starts abruptly] I am supposed much to resemble (He was no beauty) I see possibilities of fun by making my hero a Whig (is that Scott again?) and giving most of the

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fat to an old Jacobite lady – Highland, of course. She could have a daughter if necessary, & certainly ought to have a son. But I’m off the filigree game now, I hope for keeps. I think I’ll pass the idea on to D. K. Broster! (Put Mr. Rowl & The Flight of the Heron into the T. C. library. They’re charming things, especially Mr. Rowl) I’m labouring with The Esterlings, lord help me. Of course its stuck. And I miss my pretty properties of scenery & 19th. century frocks & formal manners. After the Lady, of course I’ll get my kail through the reels for daring to give up what I’ve been doing. Well it will be good for me. I’ve had success enough to turn my head if I’m not careful, so a little hammering won’t do me any harm. Unfortunately now the financial functions of my Muse are no longer confined to providing wrist watches & holidays in France. The poor girl has to pay the grocer. Well, vogue la galère. The crinoline stuff was beginning to get too easy. This darkness is unrighteous. If I couldn’t fence I should go mad. I have been fighting at Bertrands about twice a week lately, & getting a lot of steam blown off, very wholesomely. It is funny to watch national characterisation – there were seven nationalities in the place last night, including a Swede nearly seven feet high & as thin as myself, who was more like forked lightning in a white canvas cover than anything normally human. I’ve got into training again and can enjoy myself. (I wasn’t fighting the Swede!) I thought I told you about Gladys’s job. Yes, it’s all right. She has got her Warrant & begun her six months training on the 15th. June, so /you/ can tell anyone who’s likely to be interested. I’m awfully glad, though Jock will miss her. Still, she trains in London. A. U. Dinner tomorrow. Miss Agnes Mure Mackenzie looked charming in black with cherry ribands and a cherry – & pale-pink scarf – ex black & silver with scarlet camellias, ex flame-colour with black Spanish lace. Said cherry ribbons are as yet incompletely attached, so I’d better go & finish putting them on. Its no joke having to look like a successful author when you’re ough out of a job & have sales like mine! However, the main body of the frock [letter torn] survived remarkably and is still [letter torn] less in fashion, & the scarf [letter torn] though it will not be kind to my neighbours! Jock’s is coral colour, too! Selah. Bertrands has given me a decent pair of arms & shoulders, thanks be! Aweel. I return to lunch. Not on Sole Mornay & crupe Jacque this time. Did I tell you Jock was fencing also? Its doing her a lot of good, too. She’s a decent little soul, bless her. Also yourself. Keep thawed Thine M I am a pig. I’ve never thanked you for the photographs of the Quarry Wood in snow, & they gave me a great deal of pleasure. I’m going to paste them into the cover of the Half Loaf, which seems to have most Deeside in it.

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36   nan shepherd’s correspondence Notes D. K. Broster!: Dorothy Kathleen Broster (1877–1950), novelist. The Flight of the Heron (1925) would become her most famous novel. Mr. Rowl was published in 1924. Mackenzie recommends them here for inclusion in the Training Centre library. The Esterlings: possibly an alternative name for one of Mackenzie’s novels, or indeed a work that was not published. No novel of hers produced in the 1920s has characters by this name. vogue la galère: French, ‘let the galley sail on’, meaning ‘what will be will be’. Gladys’s job: Gladys Muriel Mitchell (b. 1896), a friend from her Aberdeen days. Around this time Mitchell became Inspector of Factories in Leeds. Jock will miss her: Jean Mackenzie, Agnes Mure’s sister and companion. A. U. Dinner tomorrow: Aberdeen University dinner. Mackenzie was a regular attendee at such functions. Selah: an expression used often by Mackenzie. It is possibly taken from the Hebrew, meaning ‘to lift up’ or ‘to exalt’, though scholarship suggests the word might also have significance as musical notation, where it might indicate a pause. the cover of the Half Loaf: Mackenzie’s drama The Half-Loaf: A Comedy of Chance and Error in Three Acts (1925). It was dedicated to Nan Shepherd, in part ‘to recall your various past and (I hope) future wanderings upon “Daurside” in the irreverent company of A. M. M’K.’

From: Nan Shepherd, to Jean Mackenzie Address from: Dunvegan| West Cults| Aberdeen MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 9221, f. 159 Friday [no date, 1925/6] Jock my dear, I’d intended to write you the day Muriel left to tell you what a joy it was to have her. I loved every moment of her visit, and was only sorry I couldn’t do more for her and be with her more – not that I think she’d have been the better of that, but for my own sake. Bread & butter, however – But it was good having her. And her lecture went beautifully. Her voice carried, she looked fascinating, and her the movements of that lovely pair of hands of hers were a delight to watch. A number of people have told me since that they were fascinated. I hope your weeda-hood wasn’t too sad and lonely. As a postscript to my last notes, M. hadn’t Gladys’s address by heart, so perhaps you’ll send it on to Grisel Dow. I didn’t notice her at the lecture, but then I was fairly

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near the front & didn’t turn, like the meenister’s wife, to scrutinize the congregation. Much love to you both – & I do trust M. wasn’t too worn out by her jaunt. Nan Notes Muriel: the name used by Shepherd for Agnes Mure Mackenzie, and which she noted in her later ‘Portrait’ of Mackenzie (Aberdeen University Review, 1955) was her preferred name, and the name used by Mackenzie’s friends. The contraction, ‘which she disliked’, occurred at the time Mackenzie’s first novel was published. M. hadn’t Gladys’s address by heart: M for Muriel. Gladys was Gladys Muriel Mitchell (b. 1896), Mackenzie’s long-standing friend from her Aberdeen days. Around this time Mitchell became Inspector of Factories in Leeds. It is possible the address was connected to this new post. Grisel Dow: Griselda Annie Dow (1891–1936), graduate of Aberdeen University with an MA in 1914. She would have been a close contemporary of both Shepherd and Mackenzie.

From: Agnes Mure Mackenzie, to Nan Shepherd Address: None MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2750/15 19 May 1926 Peer buet! But it isnt any warmer here. And its generally dark – so dark that several times lately I’ve had to get artificial light before I could type – with my desk under the window – at 11 a.m. or 4 p.m. Well, I’ve been to see Evans. He declines to part with the Q. W., / Quarry Wood/ but won’t be definite about publishing. The situation is this, apparently. He’s loath to let any thing so good go past him. On the other hand, the length makes it a very costly book, the amount of dialect will badly limit sales, & you’ve no reputation yet to help them. He wanted to know if I thought you’d object to some cutting of the early parts. I was non-committal, but privately rather agreed with him, as I think myself the book would gain (aesthetically, I mean) by rather more compression, especially in the opening, later some of the descriptions, though all necessary enough, are in themselves a little long for this place in the action, & check its momentum. You’ll probably hear from him direct before long. He’s given it to a Scots reader now! I gave him such a chewing for bestowing it on an Irishman with no sense of humour before that he’s evidently taken it to heart, bless him!

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38   nan shepherd’s correspondence The Lady, /The Quiet Lady,/ before the strike, was going brawly & had done over 1200, with the sales rising steadily. Now its at a standstill, like everything else. Fortune of war! I went to the Writers Club luncheon y’day, & landed between Douglas Slacker the war correspondent & – Osbert Sitwell! O.S. is exactly & precisely Dolphy twenty years younger & slightly bleached. It was rather fun. The company varied from women-and-brethren to museum freaks of the most soulful brand & the dresses from the front cover of Vogue to a Sacrament Week in Lochcarron. I had a Paris frock (a year old, but its first coming in in London!) so felt capable even of Sitwell. Sheila Kaye-Smith, Annesley Vachell, & Naomi Royde Smith were at my table. S. K. S. is a little dark elf with wise eyes, beautifully dressed in green. After we had fed we pinned on our name cards & ‘circulated’. It was a friendly sort of show & several people spoke to me, though there was no one I had ever met before. The chairwoman was the dowager Rani of Sarawak, a lively little old lady with a splendid diamond brooch & a dilapidated bonnet, rather like Queen Victoria. She looked a character, & probably is. We were all solemnly presented to her and I made my best bow, which I am told is an awe-inspiring activity. It had an appropriate setting of flowing black cloak! I was tickled by your lassie from Bach. That sort of thing does give me real pleasure. Any sort of tripe gets praise from a reviewer & you can never know if your work is positively good until you’ve been dead a century or so. But to know it can give real pleasure to people who know & love the place its set in is a very real satisfaction. I’d rather please your lassie from Bach (or was it Vatsgeir?) than be patted on the head by the Saturday. You’re not to drown the Powys class in Dun Water, if you please. Think of the fishing! No self-respecting salmon would be seen in the same pool. Your Waverley parallel gave me a shock. Of course! But I haven’t read Waverley for nearly twenty years. Somehow one doesn’t think of Scott in terms of his plots. Frankly I find him hard reading, though I love the man behind the books. I’ve been playing with the idea of a yarn about the Glenshiel Rising in 1719. It was engineered largely by an Earl of Seaforth whose brother was my esteemed progenitor, & whose rather completely a dud. But I’m glad you like the end, as I think it is the best thing in the book. Its difficult to gauge the atmosphere of the Isles in it, as most of Coll is straightforward transcription of familiar things. I’m glad you think it has unity of impression. I was working pretty hard for that. It is a relief to find that all the reviews make Burnett the central & dominant figure – I was so afraid she’d be a mere shadow in the background – Flora has all the events. I used every technical trick of psychology that I knew to get her across, and evidently it has come off! Quite two thirds of her is the most flagrant literary mechanism – do you notice she never appears out of doors? – or in daylight indoors? Poor little ghost! I’d like a transcription of her epitaph if you happen to have a Studentie living Oldmachar way who’d be good enough to dig it out for me. I think the stone is somewhere S. E the path to the kirk door. I remember years ago pointing out the charming name to

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someone – we were both in togas, so its long ago! – and saying I wanted to write a book about her, and the blind house in Chanonry – the one that had the ivy on its windows. Aweel! Good luck to your term, my dear, and pachition to Petine. There was a little tailor at home known always as Petin Squeak . . . Thine M I was interested in Sheila’s remarks on the cover. She’s about right, too. It is a big thing. But I think I still prefer the other, anyhow as an illustration. Notes I’ve been to see Evans: Charles Seddon Evans (1883–1944), editor at Heinemann. Mackenzie was helping Shepherd to sell her novel The Quarry Wood to a London publishing house. The Lady: Mackenzie’s novel The Quiet Lady was published in 1926. The annotation of the novel’s full name is in Shepherd’s hand. Mackenzie references here the General Strike of 1926 which took place between 4 and 12 May. Douglas Slacker the war correspondent & – Osbert Sitwell!: it has not been possible to identify Douglas Slacker. Also mentioned here is Francis Osbert Sacheverell Sitwell (1892–1969), writer. His literary star was on the rise, and he came from the famous literary family of Sitwells, admired by Mackenzie. O.S. is exactly & precisely Dolphy: a reference to Adolphus Alfred Jack (1868– 1946), Professor of English Literature at Aberdeen University, who was in fact twenty-four years older than Sitwell. a Sacrament Week in Lochcarron: Lochcarron is in the north-west of Scotland, some way from any major settlement. Sheila Kaye-Smith, Annesley Vachell, & Naomi Royde Smith were at my table: all three figures were well-known novelists. Kaye-Smith (1887–1956), of regional novels set in the English south-east; Horace Annesley Vachell (1861–1955), prolifically about the English countryside; Royde Smith (1875–1964), of novels about ordinary lives. The chairwoman was the dowager Rani of Sarawak: Margaret, Lady Brooke, Ranee of Sarawak (1849–1936). Upon separating from her husband the Rajah Lady Brooke established herself in London where she enjoyed the company of prominent literary figures. Your Waverley parallel gave me a shock: Mackenzie had mentioned in a previous letter (dated 1925/6 by Shepherd) writing about Whig and Jacobite women. Sir Walter Scott did so in Waverley (1814). the Glenshiel Rising: a battle that occurred on 10 June 1719 as part of the 1719 Jacobite rising in Scotland. It was fought in the Kintail region of the west Highlands. Jacobite soldiers and Spanish marines were defeated by the British army.

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40   nan shepherd’s correspondence William Mackenzie, the fifth Earl of Seaforth, was seriously injured at the battle and was evacuated by boat in the aftermath. It has not been possible to identify any brother from whom Mackenzie could claim descent. than be patted on the head by the Saturday: The Saturday Magazine was a London literary magazine. Bach and Vatisker are small settlements on Lewis, just north of Stornoway on the east coast. all the reviews make Burnett the central & dominant figure: Olivia Burnett, from Mackenzie’s work The Half-Loaf: A Comedy of Chance and Error in Three Acts (1925). Oldmachar way: Old Machar is a parish in Aberdeenshire that historically included much of the city. Shepherd notes in an annotation to a later letter the circumstances of Mackenzie’s acquaintance with this place and the name Burnett. See Mackenzie’s letter to Shepherd, Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2750/16, No date, 1926 (pp. 49–50). the blind house in Chanonry: likely a reference to a building in the Chanonry area of Aberdeen which abuts the area occupied by Aberdeen University. Sheila’s remarks on the cover: likely a reference to Sheila Roger, the daughter of Shepherd’s neighbours and friends. The original edition of The Quarry Wood, published by Constable & Co., has an unflashy plain green front cover bearing just the title and the author’s name. Inside the back cover, though, is a watercolour image of a tall and slender woman in a long coat, red wool hat and scarf, apparently being blown along by a strong wind. The artist’s name is unclear.

From: Agnes Mure Mackenzie, to Nan Shepherd No address MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2750/19 [No date, probably 22 May 1926] Its turned quite hot, all of a sudden. Trees, too. The lilacs were out /flowering/ on the 9th. of April, & the ash boughs are stark bare on the 22nd May, the leaves of plane & chestnuts half their size. The A. U. Dinner was pleasant, but shrunken Strike, I suppose. I’m very sleepy, sleeping abominably, & can’t get any work done. The book moves in a series of short jerks, but I can’t get any swing on. And I continue to tie myself up in all sorts of fool engagements, & of course every time I go out it is like you going to Old Aberdeen on the top of Rubislaw. That’s one of the worst things about London – the awful distance & the fatigue of going about. Physically I’m as fit as can be. I never was better. But I seem to alternate a deadly lassitude of mind with spirits of violent & generally irrelevant activity. I’ve next to nothing to show for the last three months, and if I don’t move that book a bit it won’t be ready for spring. It’s awfully stupid, because I know all its content – the people,

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the [deletion] general course of the action, an outline of its episodes. What bothers me is I can’t get the aesthetic quality of the impression of the book as a whole. I’ve tons of good material, but I don’t know what I want to build with it. I think the difficulty is the thematic core of the subject, so to speak, is too diffused & not intense enough really to appeal to me. It wants a diffuse treatment – you’d think from my correspondence I was eminently capable of that, but in fiction, apparently, I aint. But I’ll write the damn thing if it breaks my back. And I hope I shall have sense enough to send it after my poems when its written. But I won’t. There’s the grocer to pay. Aweel. M Notes A. U. Dinner was pleasant, but shrunken Strike: Aberdeen University dinner. Mackenzie was a regular attendee at such functions. This dinner was affected by the General Strike of 1926 which took place between 4 and 12 May. The book moves in a series of short jerks: likely a reference to Lost Kinnellan, Mackenzie’s novel which would be published in 1927. the top of Rubislaw: the Rubislaw area is some way west of Aberdeen city centre.

From: Agnes Mure Mackenzie, to Nan Shepherd Address: None MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2750/17 [No date, 1926] Nancy my dear, I am sorry to have worried you with what I suppose you would guess was only the hysterics of stage-fright. That malady – it is not less – comes on me worse with everything I publish, & your letter came at rather a bad time. Coming back to town (and I’ve been working furiously) always means a peculiar & horrible fatigue for some days. I’d been running round with my small dynamo of a parent, there were physical reasons annexed, and I’d just been in a bus collision. Also, by ill chance I’d just had a letter from Jean speaking of my work in the same general key, & a colonial review of the H. L. /Half Loaf/ saying all the things you prophesised! The review I didn’t mind as such, for the H. L. is meant to be an exact ‘pair’ to the others, but I’d already been arguing violently over the Q. L. /Quiet Lady/ and it broke my nerve. I shall have to take your advice whether I choose or not to let it be. It gives me a physical qualm at present merely to see the MS. in my desk. Ch. I & Ch. III (John’s arrival at Coll) will certainly have to be rewritten

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42   nan shepherd’s correspondence altogether, and I’ve already written I four times & the other three, besides incidental patching. And of course all the rest needs hard rubbing, though I don’t think I can do anything fundamental. And I just can’t bear to touch it. The latter parts don’t worry me so much. Nan, has it ever struck you that I’m a ‘novelist with-a-purpose’ quite as much as the estimable A. S. M. H___ is? To you, Frances Mordaunt, E. T., Petine &c. still more the type that they, after all, are only posing as, are isolated phenomena. But they, and the enormous mass of art of which they are both cause & effect, are a huge part of my milieu – not freaks, but a large and solid and very vocal influence, and one that I hate more vitally every year. Well, when I began to write seriously, and not as a game, I set myself quite deliberately, to do two things. One was to show, in the mass of Freudian sentimentality over the worst side of sex, that ‘sex’ was a part of something very much bigger, and ancillary to that that it could be very powerful in people who still retained self-control and decent manners. That, to you, is a platitude. But to current assumptions of ‘intellectual’ fiction it gives the lie direct, and God knows that’s needed. The second object – also a defiance of current literary convention – is to show that it is possible to write a book that may be /taken/ seriously as a work of art, and yet keep to the portrayal of normal decent people of good intentions and a definite and pretty strict code of ethics. It’s a limitation, of course. I can’t keep it up. They’ve all three been rather a tour de force. But that was why I wouldn’t make Elliot anything worse than a fribble. This time, to be sure, it struck me I could afford to come on to my enemies own ground and show them, in Flora’s encounter with her employer in the hall, & the Neil business that I could be ‘strong’ if I chose – its easy enough in the modern sense! But you observe that one episode in a single paragraph & that Neil is not responsible for his actions. Ancillary to these main aims is a third – a blow against the founders, ‘stream-of-consciousness’ school, the slabs of unselected detail that pass for realism. I didn’t think I could do anything to matter, but I tried, anyhow. Each of my books has been formally dedicated at Our Lady’s altar before it went to press. Of course there’ll be no Oliver Twist – & the Poor Law business, even if I succeed, I have done something. The tone of respect and relief in some of my reviews, proves that. It isn’t much, indeed, what I can do is maddeningly little. I’m not big enough, in any way, to matter much. But one riflebullet was not much in the Battle of the Marne: yet if every soldier there had acted on that basis, the face of European [deletion] civilisation would be different. I’ve done little, God knows, and even that little is far more than I expected when I began. And it hasn’t been easy fighting. My careful ethical and literary strictnesses have outraged every convention[deletion] of my more vocal and superior contemporaries. (They’d call me conventional, of course, but their own admiration of Joyce & Lawrence and the whole atmosphere is as conventional as the bound volume of the Sunday at Home for 1870, and I like it less.) But I’ve pulled it off by sheer swagger of technique – pulled it off so far as my own skin is concerned, anyhow.

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And I may have done some good. I know one fervent adorer of Lawrence is now preaching loudly that he is a back number only adored by the adolescent – & that sort of thing, in this sort of community, spreads! This apologia pro spere meo is too long. But you see now what I’m after. And I think it’s worth it. It’s a side-show, of course. You’re in the main stream. There are lots of people doing your kind of thing, though not many, I believe, who’ll do it better. And it is emphatically worth doing. It has more permanent because more positive value. I’d back The Quarry Wood to last a good deal longer than anything of mine, and certainly to sell a good deal better, for sound reasons. But there are so few people in my particular campaign. And even I must leave those few. I shall have to try the other weapons. I can’t handle The Esterlings this way, and it will be the next. And since my technique is largely taste, partly chance training, and partly, at bottom, the fact of sheer physical limitation, the more normal and freer method is not more normal to me, and is likely to be a good deal more difficult in itself. I told you some time ago that I was to try it, & I had qualms then. They’re come now, for I realise how much more personal the book must be. I have no shyness as a critic, but as a creator, I keep off the stage. In Jim I can’t, and precisely in the thing I’m most touchy about, that most humiliates me. I wouldn’t have sought that plot, but since it has come to me recurrently, I’m bound to it, much as a research doctor is bound to inoculate himself with yellow fever if the inoculation comes his way. It’ll be hard technically and otherwise – the hardest job I have ever taken on, and nothing but success will justify it. If I don’t pull it off it will be maudlin and I shall have made a howling (in both senses) exhibition of myself for nothing. I believe I never told you that Evans is interested about the Q. W. & I think will read it himself. If he does, its safe, I think. Tell me about The Weatherhouse. Good luck at Kingussie. I wish I was there. Wish me luck on Monday – I’m going down the length of the King’s Road Chelsea, sowing posters in bookshops & restaurants. Pleasant job! So far the result has been nil. Yours M. Notes a letter from Jean: possibly Mackenzie’s long-standing friend Jean Smith Templeton, who was at this time working at St Hild’s College, Durham. Without Conditions (1923), Mackenzie’s first novel, had been dedicated to Smith Templeton. a colonial review of the H. L.: Mackenzie’s recently published drama, The HalfLoaf: A Comedy of Chance and Error in Three Acts (1925). Mackenzie might have in mind here the review in the Times Literary Supplement (21 May 1925) in which the reviewer declared the novel ‘a shining example of what art can do with the most hackneyed themes’ (p. 350).

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44   nan shepherd’s correspondence the Q. L.: Mackenzie’s novel, The Quiet Lady (1926). Ch. I & Ch. III (John’s arrival at Coll): events that occur in Mackenzie’s third novel in the sequence, Lost Kinnellan (1927). As well as Deeside, Mackenzie used the Western Isles, including Coll, as settings for her novels. the estimable A. S. M. H___ is: Arthur Stuart-Menteth Hutchinson (1879–1971), who enjoyed considerable popular success as a novelist, though his writing did not receive equivalent critical acclaim. Frances Mordaunt, E. T., Petine: Frances Galloway Mordaunt (b. 1895), a classmate of Mackenzie’s and Shepherd’s at Aberdeen University; possibly Ellen Turner MacNaughton (b. 1892), sister of John MacNaughton, Shepherd’s friend and later correspondent. It has not been possible to identify Petine. Mackenzie here seems to be setting herself, and her writing, against the Modernist fiction being produced by the likes of the Bloomsbury group and others. Mackenzie’s opposition to this kind of writing is on both aesthetic and moral grounds. that was why I wouldn’t make Elliot anything worse than a fribble: Mackenzie is discussing here characters from The Half-Loaf. Of course there’ll be no Oliver Twist – & the Poor Law business: unlike the fiction of Charles Dickens, which helped precipitate social change, Mackenzie imagines here a more modest role for her kind of writing. the Battle of the Marne: fought in the First World War from 6 to 12 September 1914, and won by the Allies. their own admiration of Joyce & Lawrence: a continuation of Mackenzie’s disavowal of the shibboleths of Modernist writing, here extending to that of James Joyce (1882–1941) and D. H. Lawrence (1885–1930). Sunday at Home: a weekly magazine published by the Religious Tract Society from 1854 until 1940, intended to promote suitable and religious reading material for the Sabbath. The Esterlings: no novel of this name was published, and no novel of Mackenzie’s from the 1920s has characters named this. It is possible this is a reference to a work that was never published. Evans is interested about the Q. W.: Charles Seddon Evans (1883–1944), editor at Mackenzie’s publisher Heinemann, whom Mackenzie had been courting to publish The Quarry Wood.

From: Agnes Mure Mackenzie, to Nan Shepherd No address MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2750/20 [No date, 1926] Nancy my dear, things are happening. I got a letter last night from Kyllman, asking me to go and see him. As it wasn’t my funeral I considered there

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was no reason for not showing eagerness, so I went down this morning at 11. He talked to me for a solid hour, which from a director of a big firm to an unknown female trying to sell something, means something impressive, I assure you. Well, to cut the cackle. He wants the book, but . . . The but, however, melted gradually in the course of the hour – in fact he sat on me for saying I did not think anything could be done with it in the U. S. A. and said he thought he could sell the sheets!!! The situation is pretty much this. Murrays letter made him short-circuit the usual process. He sent it to one reader, who liked it, & compared it to the Mill on the Floss (I most fortunately said the same thing on my own) then read it himself. He found the Scots rather heavy going (I don’t blame him!) but was very struck with the book. He told me with emphasis to be sure I told you he thought it ‘a fine piece of work,’ and he meant it. But there’s the usual trouble over sales. I rubbed in Murray: the fact that you had a considerable nucleus public (ex T. C. &c.) and that it was likely to go on selling after its first season, and he considered these points duly. He asked if you were likely to go on. I said yes. If I thought this was a flash in the pan. I said I thought not, and gave him a neat sketch of you, edited ad hoc. And generally we had it up and down & round. I could see he wanted to chance it & didn’t quite dare, so I laid out all I knew in fact. As it wasn’t my book, of course there was nothing to cramp my style! We got to terms. 10% to 5000, then 15% (which is better than I was hoping for – I was afraid he’d stick out for a flat 10%) and an option on the next two, terms to depend on how the Q. W. does (I stood out for that, but made no bones over the option.) But all this is still a bit provisional. He thought the book would stand cutting. I said you had every intention of cutting it, & that cleared the air a lot – it was after that he started on terms. So the situation as it stands is this. They are sending you back the MS. for revision. They aren’t definitely committed, but they want to see the revised MS. as soon as possible. Then Kyllman thinks he can get it past Sadleir (Michael Sadleir is his partner & K. says he won’t be able to read a word of it!) It is assured of K’s own sponsorship, & he really likes it & is willing to bring it out, even keen on it, if he can have it at those terms, to which I provisionally agreed (verbally, of course) in your name. The terms are not high, but better low terms, good ads. & a good imprint, than high nominal royalties without the others. But he says the book will have a better chance if he can show Sadleir & co the final text. So that’s that, & I think its hopeful. K is a decent soul – we clicked at sight – at least I did, & I think he approved of me. He informed me that he hadn’t read my books, but was going to! (he evidently knew my name since he knew my publisher – I had some thin ice to skate over there!) and demanded both our biographies. The king-thegither of the Scot evidently amused him. Anyhow, at the very worst, you’ve a good introduction for The Weatherhouse, but I honestly think there’s a very good chance for the Q. W. Only be quick. K’s adverse crit – much my own – are that the book is too slow in opening, and that you put the reader off at the beginning with too thorny a patch of Doric – it looks, for some chapters, like extra

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46   nan shepherd’s correspondence thorny Kailyard. He thought Luke the weakest thing in the book (I agree) Martha he admired immensely, as a person & as a character in the book, and hoped you wouldn’t cut anything you cd. help there. What we came to after argument was – open it quicker, prune Luke a bit, compress in places where there is too much connective tissue, and – he didn’t say this, but I do – condense your landscape painting. Don’t omit any scenes, but cut the detail. Its well observed, but you put in too much & it clogs the movement. Then send it back directly to Kyllman himself. (I shall be away, probably. Say you agree to the terms. He will then be in a strong position on the board. But be quick, for the love of Mike). He was very shy of suggesting to you, & shunted the whole business on to me. He asked ‘She won’t go off the deep end if we say all this, will she – destroy the MS. or anything?’ I said ‘She’s a woman of sense.’ But he implored me to put it as tactfully as possible – which I haven’t troubled to in the least, – & we solemnly arranged that I was to write by this post & the MS. to go up tomorrow, so that you would get the letter first!! I don’t know if he will write or not – probably he’ll funk it. If a Scot had said what he had I shd. consider the contract as good as signed. But with an Englishman one has to make a considerable discount. If he’d been all there was, I could have got the contract then. But Sadleir may be too much for him. However, he’s well primed with arguments – I had ’em pat and glib. So we can hope for the best. He really does like it, anyhow. So carry on and good luck to you. You’ve got your foot in at any rate. I’m sorry you couldn’t see him – he asked if you would. However, English people fuss over my ‘charm’, so I played it up for all I knew, shamelessly, and it seemed to be working. Incidentally I got in the Times, & told him I’d probably get the Q. W. to do, all which helps. I didn’t dare play Bulloch as that little man’s tongue makes enemies, and I hadn’t a lead. But we can mobilise him later. Anyhow, that’s that, so bless you my child. Yours M. K. thought a glossary might be advisable. Perhaps you’d better let me do it. I told him I’d had no difficulty in reading the book, though it was no more my native speech than it was his: and the remark seemed to carry weight. The whole case is, I think, that he likes the book, can’t help liking it, but he couldn’t find arguments to defend it against people who didn’t. I supplied him with these, & he now feels happier. Selah. That’s Homo vis anglicanus all over. Notes I got a letter last night from Kyllman: Otto Kyllmann (d. 1958), one of the directors of publishers Constable & Co. Mackenzie was attempting to help Shepherd sell The Quarry Wood to a publisher in London.

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Murrays letter: possibly a letter from the publishers John Murray, also based in London. ex T. C. &c.: former students of Shepherd’s from the Aberdeen Training Centre. I’d probably get the Q. W. to do: as a regular reviewer for the Times Literary Supplement Mackenzie was manoeuvring to get The Quarry Wood to review. I didn’t dare play Bulloch: a reference to John Malcom Bulloch (1867–1938), whose good graces towards The Quarry Wood Mackenzie was attempting to court. Bulloch had graduated from Aberdeen University in 1888 and became a journalist with the  Aberdeen Free Press before moving to London where he worked on various illustrated papers. Despite living and working in England he retained a deep commitment to his roots in Aberdeen, with regular contributions to the Aberdeen University Review and an active role in the administration and publications of the Third Spalding Club. He was involved with the Vernacular Circle of the Burns Club of London. Selah: an expression used often by Mackenzie. It is possibly taken from the Hebrew, meaning ‘to lift up’ or ‘to exalt’, though scholarship suggests the word might also have significance as musical notation, where it might indicate a pause. That’s Homo vis anglicanus all over: Latin, ‘the native Englishman’.

From: Agnes Mure Mackenzie, to Nan Shepherd No address MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2750/18 [No date, possibly 1926] [Written across the top of the letter, before the start] I am scandalised to find on reading this that I have not thanked you for the L. C. business! I do now, if belatedly, tho, they’ve said nothing. But thanks all the same. Nancy my dear, I have been to write to you for at least a fortnight, and put it off from day to day, expecting to hear of the Q. W. Dent’s have had it six weeks. Either they’ve lost the MS. (temporarily – they turn up sooner or later) or it has got the length of a managing director. I’ll give them another week & then shake them up. Congratulations on Thunder on the Left. Ce sont les mots justes. I’ve passed them on to Evans. A publisher’s views on his books aren’t always those set forth on the paper jacket. E is fairly honest – I’ve known him decline /a book by/ the biggest of high-class best-sellers, because he said he was damned if he’d see his imprint on the thing. But Thunder &c was a huge success, not only in sales (they were very large) but in press notices. It is a very typical specimen of an extremely fashionable kind. Try a little Aldous Huxley, now. Say Those Barren Leaves – and then some Llewellyn Powys. They are even more in reports with the intelligent.

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48   nan shepherd’s correspondence Poor Katharine Wilson! Davies are evidently making a bid for the Bookman, & John o London public. Those distressing periodicals delight in ‘intimate personal details,’ and when they haven’t got them they invent them, as I know for my sins. I shall probably suffer once more on the Playgoer’s Handbook – no, not J. o L. – I’ve had a row with the Editor! All press-cutting people are unreliable, but some of them are worse than the others. Probably the best are [deletion] ROMEIKE & CURTICE, 6 Ludgate Circus Buildings, E. C. 4. The International Press Cutting Bureau, 329 High Holborn, W. C. 1 do my U. S. A. and colonial ones, and I believe they do British as well if you ask them. If she is having a U. S. A. edition they’d be better. But they aren’t awfully reliable. The usual sub is £2. 2 a hundred, I think, larger quantities are proportionally cheaper. Neither of these firms has a time-limit. But K. W. will hear from every firm in the country as soon as her book is announced. Give her my good wishes – and do send me the F. P. notice. Hettie T’s critical style is an abiding joy. The Handbook is put off till the 21st April, L. K. is due about the end of May. You once puzzled me very much by accusing me of arrogance. I have a healthy growth of unpleasant qualities, but that doesn’t happen to be one of them, and as you obviously meant what you said, I was decidedly perplexed. Now I’ve found out. I ‘sat’ for a painter friend the other night, as an 18th. century duellist – ruffled shirt, open at the throat ([deletion] a jumper of my own with the collar turned in!) silver grey buckles and stockings and scarlet shoes, and a scarlet scarf at my waist, my ‘powdered’ hair in pipe-curls and a queue. I am evidently waiting for my antagonist to get his coat off, with a long black cloak thrown carelessly from one shoulder, and my point on the ground, and apparently have just told him – politely – exactly what I think of him. Well, Johnnie has made a very handsome young man of me. But it somehow remains an uncommonly good likeness – and with that, as arrogant as Satan’s self. And I’ve found out why. It is partly the fighting pose – I took the natural one, of a fencer just about to salute and engage – and partly – the eyebrows! /eyebrows!/ My glasses are off, of course, so they have full value. And they curve. So your arrogance is a quite physical superciliousness, in the strictest Latin meaning of the word. Still, if I ever do look like that – and the studio crowd swear it’s a first-rate likeness – I can understand why some worthy folk find me annoying! For certainly, he’s an insolent young devil! But I wish I could think I was decorative in real life. We’ve had some spring, too. The almond-flower is out all over the place. But today there’s a piercing east wind, and the owl for all his feathers is a-cold. Poor Jean is down with another bout of flu. I’m much better, though, though I tire easily [Written sideways along the edge of the paper] Peace to your ashes & a good holiday. Yours M

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Notes the L. C. business: it has not been possible to deduce what L. C. refers to. expecting to hear of the Q. W.: Shepherd’s novel, The Quarry Wood, which Mackenzie was attempting to sell for Shepherd to one of the publishing houses in London including J. M. Dent & Sons. Thunder on the Left: a novel by Christopher Morley (1890–1957), American novelist, published in 1925. Mackenzie’s comments refer to Shepherd’s reading of this novel. I’ve passed them on to Evans: Charles Seddon Evans (1883–1944), editor at Heinemann. Say Those Barren Leaves – and then some Llewellyn Powys: Those Barren Leaves by Aldous Huxley (1894–1963), a satirical novel published in 1925. Llewellyn Powys (1884–1939), a prolific writer whose literary reputation in the 1920s was on the rise. Poor Katharine Wilson: Katharine M. Wilson, who like Nan Shepherd was taught and influenced by Adolphus Alfred Jack (1868–1946), Professor of English Literature at Aberdeen University. Davies are evidently making a bid for the Bookman, & John o London public: in 1926 a new publishing firm was founded by Peter Llewelyn Davies (1897–1960), named Peter Davies. The Bookman and John o’ London’s Weekly were both literary magazines published in London. An anonymous review of Katharine Wilson’s book The Real Rhythm in English Poetry was published in the Bookman. the Playgoer’s Handbook: Mackenzie’s The Playgoers’ Handbook to the English Renaissance Drama was published in 1927 by Jonathan Cape. do send me the F. P. notice. Hettie T’s critical style is an abiding joy: it has not been possible to deduce what F. P. stands for, or to identify Hettie T, who was most likely a fellow reviewer in the London papers. L. K. is due about the end of May: Lost Kinnellan, Mackenzie’s latest novel, which would be published in 1927. Poor Jean is down with another bout of flu: Jean Mackenzie, Agnes Mure’s sister and companion.

From: Agnes Mure Mackenzie, to Nan Shepherd Address: None MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2750/16 [No date, 1926] [Letter starts abruptly] Gone, of course. Funny that from a name [inserted here in Shepherd’s hand, is: Burnett, as a woman’s Christian name, used in her novel

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50   nan shepherd’s correspondence The Quiet Lady. She remembered seeing it on a stone in St Machar’s churchyard, but I failed to find it again for her.] on a stone in 1910 and a light-effect in The Immortal Hour in 1923 should grow a book in 1926! My balcony is now lost to me. 205 has a new tenant, and the new tenant has a baby and a gramophone, & keeps both in a window at right angles to mine & just below it. Its sad, for the balcony was nice when there was any sun to sit in, & in summer no sun gets actually into the room. Yes, Lost Kinnellan is an excellent title. I hope it won’t stop there! The book has been hung up, as I’ve been ill all week – the old sort of crock, which is a nuisance. I want to get L. K. done and out of the road. I don’t see how it can be good, (though I can see it being quite successful!) and I want to be rid of it. Thanks about Muchalls. Do you know if there is an R. C. church anywhere in the neighbourhood. My heroine is Scots-French, brought up in France by a French aunt, & wd. presumably be R. C. The thing feels intolerably burdensome, but for I can’t see much that will be any pleasure to write Still – here goes! There’s a thunderstorm hanging about, & I feel as if it were on the top of my head. Thank Heaven midsummer is past. Harpers means a day’s work a week, or rather less. I made 25/. this week-end with two afternoons, so it won’t cut in much. It follows me to W. Better than writing articles I can’t sell! Someone has just started to hammer something. Oh Hell! Peace be with you. Forget the T. C. & its works & ways. Find a nice hole out of the wind, and forget not A. M. MK I suppose I send a polite note to the Doctorial Dolphin? After all, he was very decent about mine! Notes in The Immortal Hour: The Immortal Hour, an opera by Rutland Boughton (1878–1960), first performed in 1914. In 1922 it ran for a remarkable 216 consecutive performances in London, astonishing viewers with its fantastical world. Lost Kinnellan is an excellent title: this work in progress would eventually be published in 1927. Thanks about Muchalls: Muchalls, a small village in Kincardineshire, just south of Aberdeen. Mackenzie was exploring it for use as a setting for Lost Kinnellan. Mackenzie is inquiring here whether Shepherd knows of anywhere nearby in the Aberdeen area. Harpers means a day’s work a week: possibly Harper’s Magazine, the US literary magazine published monthly. Forget the T. C.: the Aberdeen Training Centre.

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I suppose I send a polite note to the Doctorial Dolphin?: Adolphus Alfred Jack (1868–1946), Professor of English Literature at Aberdeen University. Mackenzie earned her doctorate from Aberdeen in 1924.

From: Agnes Mure Mackenzie, to Nan Shepherd No address MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2750/21 5 September 1926 [Written in the top of the letter before the start] I just now remarked to Mother I was writing to you, and she brought up the enclosed from the greenhouse for luck for your book. It’s a bit we brought from Lewis. Very many thanks for both letters. They are a real and considerable help. I meant to give L. K. /Lost Kinellan/ a rest until Mother left London, but I have had to send in the opening chapters, up to Anne’s arrival, to my enterprising editor, so read them up with one eye on your comment. I don’t think I can alter either content or general lay-out much: but I could and did cut heavily. Kicking out a lot of inorganic sentences & phrases that clogged the rest. It is a good deal crisper on the edges now, but a rather horrible thing has happened to the more reminiscent parts – the disease that always attacks me when I work over a thing too often: they tend to run into a smothered and buried blank verse. I spoiled two important bits of the Q. L. like that – in each case through too much reworking, and its mortally difficult to get right again. I’d cut the lot, but J’s reminiscences are essential to drawing both Bertha & Gilbert, as well as the easiest way of explaining Anne’s existence. I don’t think the general reader will dislike the family history, & I want a background of defunct (but inherited) picturesqueness under the actual chat of Gilbert’s everyday. For a similar reason, I’m keeping the fencing bout, though I’ve cut about 250 words round about it. To introduce Hailes, even in much antagonism is appropriate, and more important, it gives G’s tendency to fly out in sudden violent action when he is excited, though normally he is sober, not to say stodgy. I need that for both crisis & catastrophe. With the journey I’ve sweated off what I could. (MS. by the way reads a lot slower than print) I’m still swithering [deletion] over the kitten & the fencing-lesson chapters. I don’t know which pup to drown. No I. has [deletion] value in making G. vividly aware of Anne at an early stage in affairs, & as you guess, I need those cliffs – I want to have the sense of all my people living familiarly & habitually on top of a 200 foot precipice. Its not only atmosphere but part of the plot. And some action seems wanted there, which it is too soon for any structural action. On the other hand, the lesson, to judge by

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52   nan shepherd’s correspondence your comment (what a memory you have for the detail of a book!) gives the childish side of Anne, which is vitally necessary. If she hadn’t a good deal of both the child’s ignorance and the child’s confiding docility she’d have checked affairs in time, being the woman she was – and knocked my plot galley-west. A reviewer will admit the surrender of two people to passion on far less evidence than it would take to convince him of their resistance to it, but I want things to be reasonably plausible to myself! Perhaps I’ll keep both in meantime & cut as drastically as I can. I think it is time Isa took a hand again. I’m going back on Tuesday – very fat and quite lively. (‘Very fat’ is a relative term, of course – Vienna roll rather than bap as yet. Lots of work ahead. Quite ambitious appendices for the Handbook, which is also to revise. Dare I send A. A. J. a copy? I said what was gie’d me about Ford & Co, & he will probably faint in coils & put the book in the ash bin. The MS. is to be in in November. I extracted some information about the Q. W. It has been turned down by Cassell’s (I’m not surprised) and Blackwoods, which does surprise me. B’s comment is that it is too Scotch for English readers, so they daren’t risk the heavy cost of printing. /They had the sense to see it was good though./ Never mind – tails up! You don’t need the money badly, so can afford to wait. And it will find its berth yet. J. S. T. is at Oban, & seems to be having a very good time. And I must go & wash my hair, and alas, I know the shape of my cranium too well to be shingled. Loud groan. Can I justly write a review while I dry it? I hardly think so. Flourish, prosper, & commend me to Aviemore. D’you remember that moonrise on Craigowrie? And again thanks. Yours M. Do you remember Barrett? I have just had a letter from him about the Q. L. I wonder if the youthful Dr. Johnson wasn’t rather like W. B.? Had another epistle from Archie Hyslop a while ago. Nice of them both. Wonder why men like my books better than women do? I’m not a man’s woman nor ever have been. Notes I meant to give L. K. /Lost Kinellan/ a rest: the annotation is in Shepherd’s hand. The novel was called Lost Kinnellan, and published in 1927. the Q. L.: The Quiet Lady, Mackenzie’s novel, published in 1926. J’s reminiscences: James Keith, father of the protagonist, Gilbert, in Lost Kinnellan. James Keith has a colourful past involving a deceased French first wife whose

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sister has a child by his friend, and Mackenzie weaves his memories of this earlier life, before infirmity and old age, into an early chapter. The child then comes to stay, and Anne Ogilvie’s presence destabilises the long-held rhythms of Kinnellan as Gilbert Keith falls in love with her, despite his marriage to the stolid Bertha. The couple are betrayed by the jealous and malevolent schoolmistress Isa Duncan, who seeks an affair with Gilbert herself, and Bertha accidentally falls off a clifftop shortly after confronting her husband. The novel makes use of Mackenzie’s experiences as a fencer, as well as exploring ideas of belonging and inheritance: the conclusion sees Gilbert preparing to leave Kinnellan for the last time. Quite ambitious appendices for the Handbook: a reference to The Playgoers’ Handbook to the English Renaissance Drama, which would be published in 1927. Dare I send A. A. J. a copy?: Adolphus Alfred Jack (1868–1946), Professor of English Literature at Aberdeen University, whose ideas of what literature was and what it was for were at odds with Mackenzie’s. Ford & Co: a reference to the Renaissance playwright John Ford and others of the same period. he will probably faint in coils: a reference to Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll, where one of the Mock Turtle’s lessons is ‘fainting in coils’. I extracted some information about the Q. W.: The Quarry Wood, Shepherd’s novel which Mackenzie was attempting to help her sell to one of the London publishers. J. S. T. is at Oban: likely Jean Smith Templeton, Mackenzie’s dear friend. She was working at this time at St Hild’s College, Durham. Craigowrie: a hill in the northern Cairngorms near Aviemore. Do you remember Barrett: possibly William Barrett who graduated from Aberdeen University with an MA in 1909. Had another epistle from Archie Hyslop: Archibald Hyslop (1892–1943), a contemporary of Shepherd’s and Mackenzie’s at Aberdeen University. He was a teacher, artist and writer.

From: Agnes Mure Mackenzie, to Nan Shepherd No address MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2750/22 [No date, 1926/7] Aweel. Nancy wumman. I hear you have snow. And Deeside will be smelling of leaves, and Mount Battock with a mulch on. I’ve still got the fenderstool I had at Willowdene. That year-and-a-half is one of the things I most thank God for. It can’t go shabby. I’ve lost your last letter. It’s ages since I wrote. Life’s awful crowded & rather tired. Kinnellan came unstuck, rushed me off my feet for a fortnight,

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54   nan shepherd’s correspondence and then – perhaps its as well! – the wind dropped and its stuck again half through the final act, and the end as originally planned has gone phut & I don’t know what to do with it! Wish it was done. Its funny such trivial stuff shd. be so tiring – I feel as if it had been King Lear. I’m perfectly well, though. Rather rushed with things. My eyes are a [deletion] bit dicky, and things pile up. Two vast Times books – one’s the Perambulator in Edinburgh, a joy of a book but a reviewer’s heartbreak. Its no good doing decent stuff for the T. L. S. You must be ponderously impersonal & the top and tail are apt to perish in the make up. So I reflect that better folk than me suffer likewise & that nothing’s signed and on £3 3 a thousand and carry on. I’m reading a MS. which is authentically tied up with violet ribbons, and a New York paper has published a cut of [deletion] the jacket design of Eleanor Farjeon’s Green Lacquer Pavilion inscribed Cover Design for the Quiet Lady by A. M. MK. It might be worse, for its a rather charming thing by Dulac. Wonder if she got mine? And my real U. S. A. cover has Clare L’s Flora at Coll in pale blue on sulphur yellow. AND they have put on it ‘A story of a passionate devotion’ between the title & my name, as if I’d said it. Tar and feathers wouldn’t begin to express my emotions, but – well. Evans says comfortingly, ‘After all, they’re 2000 years younger than we are.’ Anyhow, the book at present is L. K. & the Q. L. is something that happened in a past existence. I don’t know yet if L. K. is good or bad, and hardly care. I want to get that draft done. Not knowing the end is maddening – I don’t want it just to tail off. Its depressing enough to be successful. But – what I still swear is a good article has just gone to its nineteenth editor. Its going next to the A. U. Review. They’ll print it, anyhow! Oh, London’s death. Not hell, particularly. Just death of the spirit. There’s nothing real in it. Nothing but noise, on paper and off, and we’re all trying so hard to be clever. Think of a city of Artists and [deletion]. And the male of the species is more fearful than the female. And the rest of us are addicted to uplift. No, nobody’s trying to patronise me and I haven’t had a bad review. Its just on general principles – the result of being a publisher’s reader, probably! I must go and finish the MS. with the purple bow. Which in spite of the bow is at the level where it has to be read through – I scent a best-seller. Not of the worst sort, even. Its awfully difficult to keep any sense of proportion in this place. Hardly anyone has one. Individually they’re jelly-fish, collectively the Boyg, and I’m taking on the colour of my surroundings. I was always a self-conscious beast by nature, but now I’m getting self-conscious about my own self-consciousness. I never had much in the way of sincere emotions, but I did feel at least a few things outside myself were solid. Now I believe they are – I believe yet in the fundamental decencies; but I can’t feel them. I’m not big enough to keep my head out of water. Deeside’s still there, though. And I expect the Pladda’s in the Irish Sea somewhere. And white water on the Mangersta shore and the moon coming up over Craigowrie. And green rivers of snow-water in the Pyrenees and the Loire all silky under the bridges and St. Louis’ windows in the

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Saints Chappelle and the sky over Edinburgh Castle. One can’t take much comfort in human things. Its too like seeing the Lady in Comus rant. Though after all, Shakespeare is stronger than the people who paw over him. But our God now is Wells. Under-breeding raised to the pitch when its genius. What a suburbanly dirty mind the man has – not good rolling honest muck, like Bartholomew Fair even. He makes Smollett look like St. Louis. Well, I to the purple bow. I suspect that what I really need is a bout with the foils, good and hard. I’m getting into training again – which probably saved me a few broken bones today. A lorry-horse made a sudden bolt out of a block as I crossed the Strand, and I just hopped from under him and no more. Wouldn’t Hettie Whats-her-name have done herself proud on the obituary? But I don’t want to die till I’ve done the proofs of Kinnellan. It would be rather tactful to do it then. But I was never less like it. Good luck. Remember me to Annie Souter. I hope she’s better. And that you’re being good & have got coals. Thine M. And so to bed – whereon my hot water-bottle leaked, and the room that was ‘thoroughly turned out’ y’day is now wreathed with damp bedding. Damn! Notes Mount Battock with a mulch on: Mount Battock is the most easterly mountain in Scotland, lying on the border between Aberdeenshire and Angus. That year-and-a-half is one of the things I most thank God for: after completing her studies at Aberdeen Nan Shepherd helped Mackenzie into employment and found accommodation for her near to Shepherd’s own house in Cults. For a period of time the women lived very close together. Kinnellan came unstuck: Lost Kinnellan, Mackenzie’s current novel-in-progress. It was published in 1927. the Perambulator in Edinburgh: by James Bone, published in 1926. Mackenzie’s review was published in the Times Literary Supplement on 4 November 1926 (p. 759). the top and tail are apt to perish: likely a reference to the process of making up newspaper pages where things were apt to be cut to ensure everything fit. Eleanor Farjeon’s Green Lacquer Pavilion: The Green Lacquer Pavilion (1926) was in fact written by Helen Beauclerk (1892–1969), the partner of Edmund Dulac (1882–1953), book illustrator, who provided the illustrations for Beauclerk’s novel. my real U. S. A. cover has Clare L’s Flora at Coll: the American edition was published by Doubleday. Clare Leighton (1898–1989) was an engraver and book illustrator

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56   nan shepherd’s correspondence who worked between the UK and the US. Her images frequently included rural figures and scenes. the book at present is L. K. & the Q. L. is something that happened in a past existence: Lost Kinellan, published in 1927, and The Quiet Lady (1926). the A. U. Review: the Aberdeen University Review, which sought to notice works by those formerly connected with the university. the Pladda’s in the Irish Sea: an island just off the coast of Arran on the cusp of the Firth of Clyde and the Irish Sea. the Mangersta shore and the moon coming up over Craigowrie: Mangersta on Mackenzie’s home island of Lewis in the Outer Hebrides; Craigowrie, a hill in the northern Cairngorms near Aviemore. St. Louis’ windows in the Saints Chappelle: windows dedicated to Louis IX, later canonised as Saint Louis, in the royal chapel on the Île de la Cité in Paris. Louis IX remodelled justice in France in the thirteenth century and was a devout and public Christian. the Lady in Comus rant: a reference to the Lady in Milton’s Comus (1634), who has an extended speech in the masque in which she defends chastity and virtue. our God now is Wells: H. G. Wells (1866–1946), promoter of free love as well as being an extremely popular novelist. Mackenzie’s remarks here echo her earlier comments about the sexual morality of the Bloomsbury group. not good rolling honest muck, like Bartholomew Fair even: play by Ben Jonson (c. 1572–c. 1637), first performed in 1614. He makes Smollett look like St. Louis: Tobias Smollett (1721–71), whose novels often dabbled in scandalous topics. a bout with the foils: Mackenzie had taken up fencing and was a keen fighter. Hettie Whats-her-name: it has not been possible to identify this individual, who was most likely a fellow reviewer in the London papers. Remember me to Annie Souter: sister of Professor Alexander Souter (1873–1949), Regius chair of humanity at Aberdeen University from 1911. Shepherd and Anne Souter were very good friends.

From: Agnes Mure Mackenzie, to Nan Shepherd No address MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2750/23 [No date, 1927] Its some time since I heard from you. Indeed, I was wondering if ye Ken Wha had been collecting his tinder on Lower Deeside. I’m glad your mother has been out a bit – Dinnet is worth seeing with the heath out.

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I could wring your neck cheerfully with envy over the Shetland trip. The least you can do is be thoroughly seasick, to oblige a freen! If you come up to London in spring, I hope you’ll be able to put in some days with us. The awkward bit is that’s when I go away myself, so we’ll need to fit in. You’d better find out about that MS. If it has gone to be set up prematurely you may have a thumping bill for corrections. I thought those colonial rights were a bit too good to be true, but they are damn careless. The same thing once happened to me. Kyllmann sent me a couple of MSS. to read – both Scots first novels – one feeble stuff, the other a pleasant easy-going affair à la O. Douglas. I would much [deletion] like to know whether he intends to pay me for them or not, but was too Highland too inquire – I have occasionally obliged Evans gratis, when his own readers contradicted each other. Oddly enough, I’ve had another Scots first novel this week – a really fine thing. In theme its something like the masculine & urban pair to yours – an enormous book without a wasted phrase in it. I don’t know who are doing it on this side. But its a pretty considerable piece of work. You were right about the Edinburgh Record, but I doubt if I’m flattered, for it was a very dull one – nearly as dull as the original! The T. L. S. did me well on L. K. – when a man drops on the two things that were most on your own conscience, you can afford to believe him when he says he saw the whole more or less as you meant him to see it. And that’s the only kind of praise that’s worth having. Its poor fun having your work called a masterpiece by somebody who will probably say the same of the next A. S. M. Hutchinson. Was your cutting H. T.? I am looking forward to his remarks on the Q. W. Kind you pass them on! Poor Dolphin! It will be the House of Lords before the finish – indeed, that’s certain, for in the very unlikely event of C. winning his appeal, D. will have to carry on. The probable end will be Coutt’s suicide, poor devil – if he doesn’t try to shoot poor Dolphy first. Its getting past a joke. But who is the idiot that’s financing Coutts? He deserves all that’s coming to him. The Esterling’s have gone west. The realisation of what one’s friends are able to deduce from what appeared to be plain English is apt to make one a little self-conscious in creative writing. Which does not improve the said activity – at any rate, until the effect wears off. So I’m plunged in a monograph on The Process of Literature – violently psychological, not to mention a small bog of metaphysics, but great fun. My conscience, as the Prayer Book puts it, is afraid, for it will be lucky if it sells 150 copies, and as nobody in England does any philosophy except a few Oxford men (who don’t do reviewing) its crop of press cuttings will be exciting reading. And I haven’t a fixed income. But its only the size of a certain celebrated infant, after all, and may impress Cape into offering me a job – its impressive, all right. I can hardly understand some of it myself! I consider, by the way,

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58   nan shepherd’s correspondence that the said process includes reading as well as writing – that reading is essential to ‘creation’ – I might make the case by a few instances of creative reading from my own cutting book, like the gent who informs me that poor Gilbert had an affair with Isa Duncan! – not to mention the ones who give the book a happy ending (cf. The Philanderers!) and the other who describes it as a murder mystery – or the Yank who said the Halfloaf began with a duel! But I’m being serious – terrifically serious . . . though cheerfulness will keep breaking in. I feel I had better put an asterisk on the jokes for English reviewers, though. Psychology in this country takes life seriously – I don’t wonder Macdougall fled to Harvard, bless him. But seriously, some of my exam howlers may come in. Have you any very choice examples of misreadings? I have one gorgeous T. C. summary of The Wild Duch. Contributions thankfully received. Between, I clothe myself. Nighties of pale pink rayon silk with roses growing over them most sentimental, and a dressing-gown of the same stuff, cut rather nicely, and with large peacock-&-jade flowers on a black ground. Also Jock has made me a green leather coat, sewn with black thongs, for country holidays, & I am blossoming into a tartan skirt to go with it. My ancestors fortunately had sober tastes! Jock went back y’day. She has still a fortnights leave due, & we are going to Normandy if I can raise the boat fare. Avianches – Mont. St. Michel – Coutances, we think, by the Channel Isles boat to St. Malo & home from Cherbourg. The U. S. A. will have gone home by then, please Heaven. I wish we cd. go further south & get the vendange, but I doubt I can’t afford it, though French third class is no worse after all than the West Highland. But Normandy is brown country anyhow. Good luck to you, & don’t fall off any cliffs. Thine M. Notes Dinnet is worth seeing with the heath out: Dinnet, near Ballater in Royal Deeside. The area is now a National Nature Reserve. You’d better find out about that MS: Shepherd was in the process of exchanging proofs with Constable & Co., publishers of her novel The Quarry Wood. Kyllmann sent me a couple of MSS. to read: Otto Kyllmann (d. 1958), one of the directors of Constable & Co. Mackenzie often reviewed manuscripts for publishers. à la O. Douglas: the pen name for Anna Masterton Buchan (1877–1948), novelist and sister of John Buchan (1875–1940), the novelist and statesman. Most of her novels were set in the Borders of Scotland, where Buchan lived for most of her life. You were right about the Edinburgh Record: it has not been possible to identify this review.

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I have occasionally obliged Evans gratis: Charles Seddon Evans (1883–1944), editor at Heinemann. The T. L. S. did me well on L. K.: the Times Literary Supplement who reviewed Mackenzie’s novel Lost Kinnellan (1927) in the issue of 21 July 1927. The reviewer described the novel as having ‘clearness and unity’ (p. 502). say the same of the next A. S. M. Hutchinson: Arthur Stuart-Menteth Hutchinson (1879–1971), novelist and editor. His novels were successful but their quality was criticised. Was your cutting H. T.: probably Hettie T, mentioned elsewhere by Mackenzie. It has not been possible to identify this individual, who was most likely a fellow reviewer in the London papers. Poor Dolphin: Adolphus Alfred Jack (1868–1946), Professor of English Literature at Aberdeen University, had been sued by a former student, Lewis Coutts, for refusing Coutts admittance to Jack’s honours class after Coutts failed to attend. Unable to take an honours degree, Coutts sued Jack for damages of £5500. The initial case, heard in Aberdeen Sheriff Court, was dismissed. Coutts appealed to the Court of Session where his case was again dismissed. Overall the case lasted for three years and became a cause célèbre in the area and received extensive coverage in the Aberdeen Press and Journal. Coutts was eventually found liable for Jack’s legal fees. The Esterling’s have gone west: this is likely a reference to a novel that did not succeed in being published. Although no specific reference to characters of this name can be found in Mackenzie’s papers, there is abundant evidence of multiple projects getting as far as submission to publishers before faltering, and the wording of Mackenzie’s letter suggests this might have happened here. a monograph on The Process of Literature: this would be published in 1929 and would help secure Mackenzie’s reputation as a literary critic of note. may impress Cape into offering me a job: the publishers Jonathan Cape, founded in 1921 but already highly regarded as a press. poor Gilbert had an affair with Isa Duncan: from Mackenzie’s 1927 novel Lost Kinnellan. Gilbert Keith, the youngest scion of a long line of Keiths, embarks upon an affair with his cousin, Anne Ogilvie. He is betrayed by the local schoolmistress, Isa Duncan, jealous for Keith’s attentions. The reader Mackenzie writes of had not properly read her novel. The Philanderers: a novel from 1897 by Alfred Edward Woodley Mason (1865– 1948), which concludes with the ‘philanderers’, Drake and his married lover Clarice, apparently poised to elope. Drake, however, changes his mind. the Halfloaf: The Half-Loaf: A Comedy of Chance and Error in Three Acts (1925). I don’t wonder Macdougall fled to Harvard: William McDougall (1871–1938), psychologist. McDougall had an enormously successful, and internationally recognised, career in the early years of the twentieth century, his published writings selling through dozens of editions. He did not feel quite at home at Oxford, where experimental psychology was forbidden, and in 1920 when he was offered the William James chair of psychology at Harvard, he accepted.

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60   nan shepherd’s correspondence T. C. summary of The Wild Duch: Mackenzie was marking exams for the Aberdeen Training Centre, this one likely attempting to comment on Henrik Ibsen’s play The Wild Duck (1884). Jock went back y’day: Jean ‘Jock’ Mackenzie, Agnes Mure’s sister and companion. get the vendange: a reference to the French grape harvest.

From: Nan Shepherd, to [Agnes Mure Mackenzie] [fragment] No address MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 9221, f. 69 [No date, around 1927] [Letter starts abruptly] sweated at their work’. (From a Stornoway lass.) Do you know that ‘howlers’ in T. C. papers are very rare nowadays. I hardly ever strike them. I’ll make a list of any that seem worth it and send them on. I’m amused over this crop of first Scots novels – what is the name, and writer, of the one that forms my ‘masculine and urban’ counterpart? I’m interested and should like to read it when it comes. Yes, I should hope K. will pay you! At any rate it shows he was pleased. Perhaps he’ll turn you into a reader for Scots mss? I’ve just had me third reading of Kinnellan. I can’t keep away from your books, you know. They have a special corner of their own on a shelf in my bedroom and sometimes when I’m going off to bed I pull one out and squat on a cushion and read till I have to shake myself and send myself to bed. In a way I almost regret seeing your books in ms. (this doesn’t mean I’m not willing to read as many more mss. as you ever feel inclined to send!) because reading them so I concentrate on detail; and the oftener I read your books the less and less I pay attention to detail. They have all a curious way (I suppose it is not really curious, for the effect is what you had intended from the beginning) of contracting in mem recollection till they are remembered as a single flashing unity – and things I may happen not to like about them then tend to drop out. The Quiet Lady dwells in my recollection as a phrase of music, Lost Kinellan, I think, as a landscape seen on a dark night in a sudden flash of lightning. I suppose this is just another way of saying what you said of your own work not long ago, that it has in essence a lyric quality. I suppose also [letter ends abruptly] Notes I’m amused over this crop of first Scots novels: see Mackenzie’s letter to Shepherd, Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2750/23, No date, 1927 (p. 57). ‘howlers’ in T. C. papers: exam mistakes in papers Shepherd was marking for Aberdeen Training Centre.

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I should hope K. will pay you!: likely Otto Kyllmann (d. 1958), one of the directors of publishers Constable & Co. Mackenzie did a significant amount of reviewing for presses in London. I’ve just had me third reading of Kinnellan: Lost Kinnellan, published in 1927. The Quiet Lady: Mackenzie’s novel, published in 1926.

From: Agnes Mure Mackenzie, to Nan Shepherd No address MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2750/24 [No date, 1927] Nancy my dear, poor’s a wi’ ye? Its HOT here – has been pure summer for over a week, bar one thunderstorm, & welcome, heat and all, though the nights are warming up too, wh. is tiring. My interviewer was a pleasant young Ayrshirewoman, intelligent & a gentlewoman. I talked at large about the Q. W. and gave her Tam o’ the Linn as an ashtray, explaining his provenance. She’s really interested in Scots lit, but was in America when the Q. W. came out, so hasn’t read it. I duly gave my views on Nationalism & the Scots Renaissance & particulars of the P. R. She’s other queer matter than Mlle. H. T, so I didn’t mind talking. A & U have declined OH. /Out of Hearing/ wh. makes 13 (35 rejections in all in 16 months, not counting the play.) I’m not greatly sorry. The more I think of it the better pleased I am over the P. L. but their fiction list is short! not very impressive, & I don’t think I would have liked them for novels. I have a freer hand now, not having the P. L. /The Process of Literature/ to consider – I’m out of my option with them too. I should be getting on with the F. W., but though the stuff is there, to the point of spoiling my sleep, the will is not. I’m coming to understand Hamlet. To feel that one’s personal salvation, which after all is something to the individual even in a city of 1 000 000, depends [deletion] either /on/ doing or on not doing a given thing, to know that one has the power either to do it or to leave it undone, to be willing to run the risks attached to either, and not to know what which of the two alternatives is the right one, is a pretty convincing imitation of hell. Its a matter of very small moment to the world at large whether I write or not, presumably. But as far as I’m concerned its precisely whether I damn myself or not. Everything that has ever happened to me has gone into the pot to equip me for a definite but very limited talent as a writer. If I refuse to write, am I refusing a gift of the Holy Ghost, or resisting the temptation of the Devil to assist my brother to stumble? I’m quite willing to either write or not write, and take the consequences. But I’ve said the Angelus till I’m sick and I don’t get any nearer knowing which. Its all very much a storm in a tea-cup, of course. But a tea-cup with a storm in it may soon be broken china, & its more use on the table than in the ash-bucket. The whole commotion is so damned profitless.

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62   nan shepherd’s correspondence Its wasting all the vitality I might be using. And honestly I want to do the right thing. I must either write honestly or not at all. Out of Hearing was a shirking of the issues – I’m not proud of it. It may justify itself as a Times review does, but as art – honest art – it doesn’t exist, & has the only merit that it doesn’t pretend to. But it only put off the decision. The Process is all right – it isn’t as good as it might be, but even at that its not bad as a piece of work, and it was worth doing and up to me to do. I’ve a clear conscience there. But I’ve got to choose now between my own ethical judgment on my creative work, and my friends’: or go mad. If I was as arrogant as you call me, it would be easy. But if I’m right, then you and Jean, Winnie Gray, and a couple of other people, not to mention various strangers who don’t count, are wrong. You’re quite as intelligent as I am, honester on the whole, & just as likely to be right. Clemence Dane, Naomi Royde Smith, Mary Borden – well . . . you are nearer my ethical & aesthetic code than most of them. Mary Borden’s approbation does not make me think very well of myself! C. D. & N. R. S. are all right, but they’ve a different background from mine. Helen Waddell, Harold Child – they’ve my own outlook, & more than my intelligence. They think I’m right. So does D. K. Where am I? Its not a case of shirking abuse, even abuse from people I care about. I’m not in the least heroic about disapproval, even from indifferent people: but there are more important things, and this is one. Its got down to a plain point of ethics, and one that in the most literal sense (though not perhaps that of the Rev. MacGeevor Killian) my own salvation or damnation hangs on. And, I’m pinned here, kicking helplessly against the pricks, till I decide, like a stationary car with the engine running & shaking it to bits. And can’t find any basis for decision that doesn’t collapse as soon as I look at it. Meanwhile, what might have been a better book than I’ve written is a bundle of torn MS. in Jock’s office desk, and all the feel of it will be leaving me soon if I don’t get a chance to get the stuff down. Do I make a fight for it, or turn my back and ‘thank God for a good delivery’? I don’t know. Et ca y est. Well, peace be with you. I hope C. has been a bit more definite. They’re timorous beasts. Yours M. Notes No date, 1927: the letter was dated by Nan Shepherd on giving the letters to Aberdeen University, though the content suggests that perhaps a date in 1928 would be appropriate. talked at large about the Q. W.: The Quarry Wood, which Shepherd was in the process of editing. Tam o’ the Linn: a character from a famous ballad of the Scottish Borders, rescued by his lover from the Queen of the Faeries.

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Mlle. H. T: probably Hettie T, mentioned elsewhere by Mackenzie. It has not been possible to identify this individual, who was most likely a fellow reviewer in the London papers. A & U have declined OH: likely Allen & Unwin. Shepherd has annotated the book title here. No novel of this title was published by Mackenzie. not counting the play: a reference to The Half-Loaf: A Comedy of Chance and Error in Three Acts, published in 1925. the better pleased I am over the P. L.: The Process of Literature: An Essay Towards Some Reconsiderations, published in 1929. I should be getting on with the F. W.: likely a reference to The Falling Wind, a novel that would be published in 1930. you and Jean, Winnie Gray: Jean Mackenzie, Agnes Mure’s sister and companion; Winniefred Gray (b. 1888), a contemporary of Shepherd’s and Mackenzie’s at Aberdeen University. Gray graduated Doctor of Public Health in 1914. Clemence Dane, Naomi Royde Smith, Mary Borden: Clemence Dane was the pen name for Winifred Ashton (1888–1965), novelist, playwright and feminist. Naomi Royde-Smith (1875–1964), novelist and journalist, whose novels of the 1920s dealt on occasion with explicitly lesbian themes. Mary Borden (1886–1968), an Anglo-American writer and suffragette. She spent time in jail after demonstrating at Parliament Square. She was a war poet and a short story writer who wrote frankly about the horrors of the front. Helen Waddell, Harold Child: Helen Waddell (1889–1965), Irish poet and translator; Harold Child (1869–1945), critic and writer who was expert on the production of Shakespeare’s plays. So does D. K.: Dorothy Kathleen Broster (1877–1950), novelist, who like Mackenzie wrote historical fiction. MacGeevor Killian: it is has not been possible to identify this individual. in Jock’s office desk: Jean ‘Jock’ Mackenzie, Agnes Mure’s sister and companion. Et ca y est: French, ‘and there it is’. I hope C. has been a bit more definite: a reference to the publishing firm Constable & Co. who, after much deliberation, had agreed to take on The Quarry Wood.

From: Agnes Mure Mackenzie, to Nan Shepherd No address MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2750/25 [No date, 1927] Nancy my dear, the summer (?) has not affected your lavender. I put the two heads you sent t’other day under my pillow, where they haunted three nights till I lost them changing sheets.

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64   nan shepherd’s correspondence Yes, Constables are worth staying with. A good imprint has its disadvantages, of course. If I were with Melrose, say, I shd. be a star turn, whereas with H’s I’m on the same list as Masefield & Galsworthy & consequently get a much smaller share of ‘publicity’. On the other hand, review space, for a new author, depends very largely on the imprint. As to time, I can tell you only that it will be longer than you expect! That timeclause you mention was exceeded by over two months! With a first book there’s no precedent for format – this won’t affect you as much, of course as it did me, for they had a lot of bother over the awkward length of W. Con. – after driving one printer demented they took it to another! I don’t think you need worry about my publicity efforts. I merely gave K. a list of the East papers that are not likely to be in the Year-book, including the A. U. Review, told him to send a copy with the firm’s (not the author’s) compliments to the Professor of Literature at Edinburgh University (!) and asked him to let me know in good time, when it was due out, so that I could feed a little /(information)/ (copy) to J. M. Bulloch, accidentally-on-purpose. I shall not tell him your brand of face-cream or that you habitually sleep under the hen-house, though the latter would certainly touch the Great Heart of the British Public. I think C’s. were No 14 on the list. At least I seem to remember taking it to 8, & C. B. wd. be 6. Desmond MacC, by the way, was the reader who made Heinemann’s reject it. I saw his report, & it was thoroughly cheap. But it & the opening chapters frightened Evans off too badly for me to get him round again – I was here at the time, & couldn’t see him personally. You ask my statistics. I haven’t the figures here, [inserted at the top of the page is] /Handbook I know nothing about whatever, but its had what shd. be a good selling press – only at the wrong time of year./ but, approximately – W. Con. & H. L. both about 16–1700 £45 or so. W. S. P. about 1200 by now, but it keeps a steady small sale, so I don’t know. About £70+. (£20 to type!) Q. L. About [deletion] 2000 by now, but I haven’t the U. S. A. figures – £50 odd. L. K. has a higher royalty & higher price. Its 600 advance sales practically made the £30 advance, & the Observer gives it in the weeks list of best-sellers (??) I’ve been in a list of ‘best-sellers’ before, though to be sure it wasn’t in the Observer. But no paper is reliable on facts. The Weekly Scotsman has a par. this week – about 6 lines, in which they get the statements, (α) that I left B. Coll. to devote myself &c. – this must be the 10th. at least to repeat Bullochs canard – & the best of the joke is he knows why I left (β) that I have published the Q. L. the P. H. & L. K. all since Christmas!! (c) that the action of L. K. is laid in Kincardineshire with some episodes in Aberdeen & Glasgow!!!! Someone else describes L. K. as ‘a quiet story’ – but that’s an Irish paper & quietness is a relative term. Someone else congratulates me, apparently quite seriously, on the scene of the wreck, which matches the Free Press’ compliments on my portrayal of village life. Clemence Dane has done me a good turn by writing enthusiastically to Evans, who sent on the letter. But the lateness in the season is not

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going to help me any. I’ve noticed lately that the general garrulousness of London after the sort of summer we’ve had extends to reviewers & I shall probably catch it. The best anyway I’ve got for my literary future is that not only the Q. L. but the H. L. is still on the open shelves of the Times Book Club, wh. seldom show ag. over a year old & the T. B. C. has never sold off a book of mine – partly because they never had many copies, of course! I’m hopeful enough of ‘arriving’ – in a sense I have done it. But also, I know exactly what that’s worth, by now. Shakespeare was a successful dramatist when he wrote Sonnet 66, and – I have lived in London for seven years, & seen the birth & death of several fashions in admiration. But of course if I can spoil the Egyptians, I have no objection. It’s less fun than my ancestors’ pet amusement of lifting their neighbours’ kye, but there’s a certain entertainment about it, all the same. Well. I must work. Peace be with you. Constables’ will send you any further correspondence ‘direct’ – at least, I told them to, but most clerks will muddle anything they have a chance to. You may get proofs by the end of Sept. if you’re lucky, but it will depend on who’s on holiday – that’s if it’s autumn season, of course. Publication usually six weeks after last proofs go in. If you want second proofs put Revise in top corner, otherwise put Press. Better endorse MS. ‘For punctuation please follow copy’, otherwise you’ll have to sling out some thousands of superfluous commas. You can add – you’d probably better – ‘For quotations follow house style’ – it will politen the other. I expect Taylor has taught you enough typography not to [deletion] throw out the make-up of a whole chapter by making an unnecessary change in the proofs. Comps love me because I don’t do that. Taylor gave me a good typographical eye – I know exactly what a given sentence will look like in print – bar accidents! Consequently I don’t bedevil my proofs, (though I admit I have a bad eye for typographicals & pass some annoying small mistakes – I go over my stuff so often I memorise a lot of it, & can’t see errors) This accomplishment is worth cultivating. Your comments on my MS. & on the printed book so often contradict each other that I doubt if you have acquired it yet, but it’s worth learning. Does this sound patronising? I hope not. But I’ve been through the mill & you may as well profit by my scars! Good luck. M. Notes Yes, Constables are worth staying with: Mackenzie was involved at this time in negotiating with Constable & Co. about taking on The Quarry Wood. They would eventually publish it in 1928. If I were with Melrose: the publishing house of Andrew Melrose (1860–1928), who actively sought out exciting new fiction.

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66   nan shepherd’s correspondence with H’s I’m on the same list as Masefield & Galsworthy: Mackenzie’s writing was often published by Heinemann, who were also the publishers of John Masefield (1878–1967), the hugely successful poet who would soon be appointed Poet Laureate, and John Galsworthy (1867–1933), novelist, who would win the 1932 Nobel Prize for Literature. W. Con.: Without Conditions, Mackenzie’s first novel, published in 1923. I merely gave K.: likely Otto Kyllmann (d. 1958), one of the directors of publishers Constable & Co. the Year-book: a journal founded in London in 1891. the firm’s (not the author’s) compliments to the Professor of Literature at Edinburgh University (!): a reference here to Herbert Grierson (1866–1960), who had been Mackenzie’s and Shepherd’s professor when they were both studying English literature at Aberdeen University. Grierson had then gone on to employ both women on various projects before Mackenzie became a lecturer at Birkbeck. He had since moved to a position as Professor of Rhetoric and English Literature at Edinburgh University in 1915. J. M. Bulloch: John Malcom Bulloch (1867–1938). Bulloch had graduated from Aberdeen University in 1888 and became a journalist with the Aberdeen Free Press before moving to London where he worked on various illustrated papers. Despite living and working in England he retained a deep commitment to his roots in Aberdeen, with regular contributions to the Aberdeen University Review and an active role in the administration and publications of the Third Spalding Club. He was involved with the Vernacular Circle of the Burns Club of London. C. B. wd. be 6: Mackenzie is referencing here a list of prospective publishers for The Quarry Wood. Eventually thirteen would reject the novel, before Constable & Co. agreed to take it. Desmond MacC: Desmond MacCarthy (1877–1952), writer and literary critic. His opinion about literariness was highly sought and well regarded. W. Con. & H. L.: Mackenzie here lists her published works and their sales figures and profits. Without Conditions (published 1923), The Half-Loaf: A Comedy of Chance and Error in Three Acts (1925), The Women in Shakespeare’s Plays (1924), The Quiet Lady (1926) and Lost Kinnellan (1927). I left B. Coll. to devote myself: Birkbeck College where Mackenzie worked for five years before being dismissed after student complaints about her lecturing style: Mackenzie’s deafness affected her speech. that I have published the Q. L. the P. H. & L. K.: The Quiet Lady, The Playgoers’ Handbook to the English Renaissance Drama, and Lost Kinnellan. All three were published close together, though the first in 1926, while the latter two appeared in 1927. Someone else describes L. K. as ‘a quiet story’: it has not been possible to identify this review. Clemence Dane has done me a good turn: Clemence Dane was the pen name for Winifred Ashton (1888–1965), novelist, playwright and feminist.

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I expect Taylor has taught you: likely a reference to the experiences had by both women as editors of the Aberdeen University student paper Alma Mater. Shepherd followed Mackenzie as editor. It has not been possible to further identify Taylor.

From: Agnes Mure Mackenzie, to Nan Shepherd No address MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2750/26 12 July 1927 3 years ago I was at Dinnet. Nancy my dear, you’re having stirring weather. Its even in the London papers. But we had the reversion yesterday – I never saw a worse storm – the rain was terrifying. There were streets two feet deep quite near us, and an awful distraction of traffic. Thanks for the cuttings. Poor old Dolphin! I suppose the next will be the Court of Session! Who is financing Coutts? No, the review didn’t look like H. T – much too soon! It is interesting, if a little disconcerting at times, to get the bourgeois view on what the press-cutting people call the ‘self and writing’. My prediction in the dedication looks like at least a partial fulfilment – that some of the highbrowed will be as shocked at the ethical principles held in theory by G. & A. as the Free Free is at their failure to put them in practice – I’ve just got the Saturday. I shd. have expected Hartley to take it far worse, though – he has only one side-shot at ‘high sentiments’. Of course it’s ‘the Scottish Highlands’ (one of them puts it in a ‘famous Scots castle’!) and I write with ‘a sustained gravity’, which rather rejoices me. But the prize cutting so far is ½ col of lyrical laudation from of all things on earth, the Daily Herald – official organ of red Labour! Somebody remarks that my ‘frankness leaves no scope for the prudish or the prurient critic’ – but I doubt he’s never been in Bon-Accord! You know, don’t you, that Isa’s mischief-making is based on fact – the actual incident was rather worse, in fact. Glad you liked Bertha’s demise – someone else mentioned it too, so it is evidently better than I thought – I didn’t care for it. Someone else says it has a happy ending! !!! I’m amused at the contrast in our views on rewriting. But you are saying something and I am trying to make something, so we begin differently. I start with knowing vividly what I am trying to make – the sort of experience I want the book to be: and of course I know the main lines of the recorded experience (i.e. the action & de’en) that are its chief ingredients. But not all. And the business of presenting & supplementing these so as to produce the experience which is the book is pretty ghastly. Either I am stuck in a fog or the thing is racing ahead of me and I can’t get it down.

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68   nan shepherd’s correspondence It is only when it is pruned down and roughly in order that I have it, and can begin the business that matters – it is expressed then, and I can begin to convey it. Theres a rare fine moment comes in there: the stuff is extant, though as yet no one can see it but myself. The vision has being, but only to me as yet. And I’m still able to hope I can transfer it, make it intelligible. I never have, of course. I am beginning to know I never will. But just at that moment there’s always the hope it may happen this time. And while the re-writing is in process I can delude myself into believing it is happening. The vision is narrow enough: all the same, if I could put down and convey what was in the original idea (in the Platonic sense) it wd. be worth while. Its not my short range I grumble at really, but the imperfect rendering within that. Though I’ve chosen prose, strictly speaking I belong with the song-writers – the Gaelic love-songs in between song & ballad. The psychological processes are the same, though the medium isn’t. I’m not a novelist at all, though I’ve a streak of dramatist in my technique, at all events. I’m trying to write a novel at the moment, & its quite a new experiment for me. And if it gets finished I shall get my kail through the reek for daring to do something that is not on my label! I haven’t heard further from Kyllmann, but he is to send me the agreement & then I will see him. I’m not sure if you’re in time for the autumn, but I think so, & on the whole the sooner the better! I’ll find out what he’s to do about America – I fancy he’ll draw up the contract to cover U. S. A. rights & of course I shall let him. I doubt if they’re worth much, though of course you never know. Anyhow, Constable’s is in a better position to deal with them than I am, so there’s no sense in reserving either U. S. A. or translation. I fancy the latter is improbable, though the Scandinavian /& German/ might be just possible, if it does well here. They seem to be doing a good deal of your sort of stuff on their own. (According to Kyllmann, Sadleir wd. probably ask for the English trans. rights!) Dramatic & film are u.g. of course. I’m afraid I’m sceptical of your ‘second-place.’ I used to believe that too. But now I find a more material explanation for these subjective sensations of part-absence. We’re well enough insulated, in fact. The closest of lovers may reach the stage of guessing at and seeking each others real selves & not a reflection of their own, but even they can only touch it in flashes, aided by some unusual fortune of circumstance. We can guess at each other, more or less correctly, & when the guess is true we are startled into feeling its a contact. It is possible to touch God, I think. But in this life, not much else in the way of living spirit – human spirit, that is (I believe in angels & very certainly in devils) [deletion] except by way of art. And that’s a very fogged & uncertain perception, as you’ll find if you read Saintsbury’s History of Criticism, or when your own reviews come in and you see how sane and intelligent people are saying you call a thing black when you’ve said with all your strength that its white, and putting the stress on all your inessentials.

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I asked [deletion] to tea. She wrote to me at Christmas asking advice, & I told her to come & see me if she was in London. She struck me as a bright intelligent lassie, with backbone. I think the shock of the Second has done her good. It took her very badly at first, but the final effect I fancy has subdued her, & she seems determined to make good. I did not find her at all bumptious, but she has evidently a certain hero-worship for me (‘distance lends enchantment’ – and its a wholesome sentiment for youth, though a little disconcerting to the worshipped) so was deferential. I am glad I asked her. The lassie evidently considered it an experience, and I had a chance of saying what I thought about the last three year’s Almas. And I took it! She did not tell me she was engaged to [deletion], but spoke of him & said he was in Heinemann’s. I did not ask in what capacity. She’s a little bit hairy about the heels, but not badly – would soon shake down in the right environment, I think – if she could find it. I fancy the mischief is a common one – she had more vitality than her immediate surroundings gave scope for, got into a bad set, & took it at its own valuation. Whether it has marked her permanently will depend on how much backbone she has: but I think she is coming to form a scale of values of her own, and honestly I think some of my own books have helped her to a better one, (which naturally prejudices me in her favour!) I have more prestige than the set, you see – and instead of condemning its ideals à la Dolphy, I laugh at them. And she is the type of the Rising Scot, or I’m much mistaken! I shall be interested to see how she turns out. It was curious to meet the Scots students after my English ones. By the way, at the last A. U. Dinner my neighbour was an Aberdonian – Pitfodels, anyhow. And his comments on the Coutts case made me very glad I had written that letter. I don’t know if Aberdeen is really much worse than other places, but I do know that I never believe anything one Aberdonian tells me about another. But the bourgeois everywhere does seem rather like that, and when you couple to it our national vice of envy, the results aren’t pretty. We are a generous nation to our inferiors, but God help anyone we feel to be our better in any way. Its not a characteristic I am proud of, but its at the bottom of all that’s worst in Scots History. No wonder Calvinism got a hold on the Scot – ‘Election’ is the very doctrine for that temperament. Yet the psychological bent thats at the root of it can be trained to fine things too: the clansman’s loyalty comes from feeling that he also has a rightful share in the greatness of the race that is represented by the chief he will die for uncomplainingly. We’re a queer country. Humanity at large is queer enough, heaven knows. But for a richness in psychological antimonies, commend me to my own division of it. The Aberdonian who is running to her neighbour to embellish some virulent scandal about me (and I’ve no doubt there are a few by this time!) would stop and help me with both hands and her bank balance if she came on me in trouble by the way. Give me a Scot any day when I’m down on my luck. But when things are well with me, I’m forced to admit the Englishman’s better company,

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70   nan shepherd’s correspondence unless the Scot is either rarely generous or very definitely my superior in some way he values. This is growing into a treatise, and I’ve an awful stack of work, including a MS (real MS) novel entitled ‘Modern Problems in Science & Religion’ – the modern being apparently about 1870. Curious how as you go through different layers of the community ‘contemporary’ thought means different dates. In my own line, ‘contemporary’ literature, to the average provincial reviewer, means 1918 or so. To the average /intelligent/ teacher, about Rupert Brooke & Housman. To another set its about Stevenson & Kipling. To the Examining Body (as such) of C. A. its apparently about Matthew Arnold! And the street-corner socialist has got about as far as John Stewart Mill, & honestly thinks Marx is the last thing that has been said. Oh, my Free Press article is not the much-rejected. But it has been turned down by the only two things that were likely to print it on its length /merits/ so I sent it where they’d take it on the signature. I wish I hadn’t. I’m afraid I was premature. But I am so damnably hard up. There will be more money on L. K – perhaps even a good deal more. But not till April! I shall be interested in The Weatherhouse. So much autobiographical stuff went into the Q. W. that it will take a second book to show what you really can do creatively, and I want to see. You can transcribe the life about you and your own personal experience with enormous vigour (Don’t get the wind up: it doesn’t look too much like personal experience – for one thing the most personal parts are fairly universal: for another, you have blended them very skilfully with what you have observed directly in your own students) But I want to see what you can do beyond transcription. I don’t mean that what you have done is small. It isn’t – far from that. To transcribe with so much insight & rich vigour is a very considerable thing Your danger is that the range may make the transcription narrow, & that you may fall into mechanical reproduction. I’m not quite satisfied yet that you can get [deletion] your stuff away from yourself – it didn’t matter in this case, as Martha is the book, & one doesn’t mind her overshadowing Dussie, though I rather regret there wasn’t more vitality in Luke. His flabbiness adds to the irony, of course: but it would balance better if he were had more guts. (This is not to say the minor characters are not alive. They are admirably so: but what lives is your (or Martha’s) experiences of them.) I also want to see the revised QW. though I think I’ll wait till its in proof at least. I fancy it will have gained in impact & memorableness by being cut down. You have George Macdonald’s virtues: if you develop his faults it won’t be my fault anyhow!! But he’s got a permanent place in at least Scots literature, and I see no great reason why you shouldn’t have a better. There are dangers, of course: but there’s no reason why they should be fatal. Does this sound abominably condescending? After all, I have been a schoolmam, & the profession leaves marks! And I also am a Scot, I suppose.

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Well, I will go & feed. And then attempt to earn my living. Losh! (Which is quite good Browningesque verse.) Peace to you & good luck to The Weatherhouse. Yours M. Notes at Dinnet: a small village located a few miles to the east of Ballater in Aberdeenshire. Poor old Dolphin: Adolphus Alfred Jack (1868–1946), Professor of English Literature at Aberdeen University, had been sued by a former student, Lewis Coutts, for refusing Coutts admittance to Jack’s honours class after Coutts failed to attend. Unable to take an honours degree, Coutts sued Jack for damages of £5500. The initial case, heard in Aberdeen Sheriff Court, was dismissed. Coutts appealed to the Court of Session where his case was again dismissed. Overall the case lasted for three years and became a cause célèbre in the area and received extensive coverage in the Aberdeen Press and Journal. Coutts was eventually found liable for Jack’s legal fees. No, the review didn’t look like H. T: probably Hettie T, mentioned elsewhere by Mackenzie. It has not been possible to identify this individual, who was most likely a fellow reviewer in the London papers. My prediction in the dedication: the dedication to The Quiet Lady (1926), to Janet Duff and Agnes S. Wolton, in which Mackenzie writes, ‘at least you will not be shocked if I err from those moral standards inherited by fiction from the “advanced” late ’nineties of last century, and by parts of our semi-civilization from a date somewhat older: so I inscribed to you this trifling water-colour, in gratitude for long-continued kindness’. the ethical principles held in theory by G. & A. as the Free Free is at their failure to put them in practice: Mackenzie’s novel Lost Kinnellan (1927) speaks in relatively frank terms of the sexual relationship between Gilbert Keith and his young cousin Anne Ogilvie, who over the course of the novel also becomes his ward. The local schoolmistress, Isa Duncan, who herself desires Gilbert Keith, uses her knowledge of the affair to poison the reputations of both Gilbert and Anne. When Gilbert’s wife, Bertha, confronts him on the clifftops near Kinnellan, she falls in an incident that looks extremely suspicious. Duncan’s testimony, though eventually discredited, plays a key role in Gilbert’s arrest and interrogation. The ‘Free Free’ is likely a reference to the Wee Free churches of western Scotland, of which Mackenzie was critical. the original idea (in the Platonic sense): both Shepherd and Mackenzie found Plato’s ideas about forms helpful in their conceptions of art. Mackenzie refers here to Plato’s conception of an ‘Idea’ as the non-physical essence of a thing, the study of which can yield true knowledge. Kyllmann: Otto Kyllmann (d. 1958), one of the directors of publishers Constable & Co., with whom Mackenzie was in discussions regarding terms for taking Shepherd’s first novel, The Quarry Wood.

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72   nan shepherd’s correspondence Sadleir wd. probably ask for the English trans. rights!: Michael Sadleir, one of the other directors of Constable & Co. alongside Kyllmann. Saintsbury’s History of Criticism: George Saintsbury (1845–1933), whose History of Criticism and Literary Taste in Europe from the Earliest Texts to the Present Day was published in 1900. I asked [deletion] to tea: the deletion is likely to have been made by Shepherd, who when gifting Mackenzie’s letters to Aberdeen University added dating information and edited out some personal information. last three year’s Almas: Alma Mater, the magazine of Aberdeen University that Mackenzie had edited for a time. Heinemann’s: London publishers. instead of condemning its ideals à la Dolphy: a reference to the opinions held by Adolphus Alfred Jack (1868–1946), Professor of English Literature at Aberdeen University. the last A. U. Dinner: Aberdeen University dinner. Mackenzie was a regular attendee at such functions. Pitfodels, anyhow: an area now on the western outskirts of Aberdeen. ‘Modern Problems in Science & Religion’: it has not been possible to identify a book with this title published at this time. To the Examining Body (as such) of C. A.: it has not been possible to deduce what Mackenzie is referring to here. Oh, my Free Press article is not the much-rejected: it has not been possible to identify this article, or its eventual home. Mackenzie would run into difficulties with the publications she placed articles with, some of which proved quite unscrupulous. Something of this kind is perhaps hinted at here. There will be more money on L. K: Mackenzie’s novel Lost Kinnellan, which had just been published. the Q. W.: The Quarry Wood. You have George Macdonald’s virtues: George Macdonald (1824–1905), poet and novelist who, like Shepherd and Mackenzie, was a graduate of Aberdeen University. Macdonald’s writing was lauded for its lyricism, and criticised for its lack of dramatic cohesion. He was considered one of Scotland’s foremost writers during the nineteenth century.

From: Agnes Mure Mackenzie, to Nan Shepherd No address MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2750/27 [No date, 1928/9]

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[Letter starts abruptly, possibly a fragment] and I’m so collapsy I daren’t clean them, & they’ve got on my nerves. The Year-Book has turned me on a MS. to criticise – an unsaleable MS. There the blind lead the blind. But as the lady aims at Cassells Mag & the Religious Text Society we do at least squint with different optics. And it means £2. 2. Also I’m let in for rewriting four short stories for a once popular thriller-writer now in necessitous circumstances, without hurting her feelings. The lady used to tell a good yarn in abominable prose. I have to take the yarns – unread yet – & make ’em literate, then try to sell them. I get part of the loot, of course, if any. And I WANT to sit down quietly & get on with my job. And I do not want to go back to Scotland beaten, or even to go back at all, I really believe. I am beginning to feel I’ll probably love it better out of it. I gather that its doubtfully an abode for anyone with a civilised sense of values. Not that England’s much better, taken as a whole. Or anywhere else. But as long as I don’t live in Scotland, I can think well of it! But for a Scot nowadays to feel any very real pride in national achievement, he needs to live out of his own country & know no more of her history than the average of her citizens – i.e. none. Sorry to grouse so. I’m pretty tired & nervy & poor little Jock has naturally needed rather a lot of playing with & distracting. These infernal collapses make my work pile up so. Jean was down for the weekend. She’s had a baddish time, poor little beast, but was better & quite chirpy. We were all going to Banford, near Oxford, for Easter. Now that’s all in the air again. Oh hell! This is unprofitable, & I ought to be strafing that MS. I’m dining with Margaret Irwin (Still She wished for Company) She wants to see the MS. of the QW. I don’t feel at all like intelligent shop, but her opinion is worth having. Did you read Fire Down Below? It reminded me rather of some of your poems. D A M N! But good luck to The Weatherhouse. Yours M. Notes The Year-Book: a journal founded in London in 1891. Cassells Mag & the Religious Text Society: Cassell’s Magazine focused on popular fiction. Mackenzie likely means the Religious Tract Society, which published popular religious writing. I’m let in for rewriting four short stories for a once popular thriller-writer: it has not been possible to identify which writer this was.

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74   nan shepherd’s correspondence poor little Jock: Jean ‘Jock’ Mackenzie, Agnes Mure’s sister and companion. I’m dining with Margaret Irwin: Margaret Irwin (1889–1967), English historical novelist, whose fantasy novel Still She Wished for Company was published in 1924. She wants to see the MS. of the QW: The Quarry Wood, which was still seeking a publisher. Did you read Fire Down Below?: a novel by Margaret Irwin published in 1928.

From: Marion Angus, to Nan Shepherd Address from: Zoar| Hazelhead| Aberdeen MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 3036/6 17 February [1928] My dear Miss Shepherd, I feel I must write to you to tell you what great delight & pleasure I have had in reading ‘The Quarry Wood’ It gave me a quite unusual thrill of happiness & pride to know that from Aberdeenshire could come a book like this The setting of the story naturally lends interest to it for me seeing that I know so well Martha’s haunts but what made the book great is that there is nothing provincial about it It has the epical quality It is human nature coarse, strong tang of the soil with the underlying tenderness so beautifully showing in Aunt Josephine & Geordie Ironside & your Scots you have its every shade & texture at your finger tips. Also the subtle & fascinating pictures of weather clearly & delicately drawn until one feels the very air & hears the motion of clouds I trust you will not think I am taking any liberty by sending you my heartiest congratulations on this sensitive & delicate work of art for it is delicate as well as strong. I need not express the hope for its success with the public (I mean the discriminating public) for that is already assured in my mind since I laid it down in the early hours of the morning after a glorious spell of reading. With best wishes Yours very cordially Marion Angus Note ‘The Quarry Wood’: Shepherd’s first novel had just been published.

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From: Nan Shepherd, to Agnes Mure Mackenzie No address MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 9221, ff. 68 and 70 9 July 1928 Dear Muriel-through-the-Mincer, It’s fine. I apologize for having kept it so long, but as I told you I didn’t want to start until I had some hope of being able to finish. And when I did get begun, I was reluctant to put it down till I was done, which is all the answer I deign to the gentleman who called it unreadable. Though of course on his behalf it must be said that its argument, though expressed with a fulness and rich allusiveness to which I could never have attained, was all the same immediately comprehensible to me because I had found its truth already and was therefore not hampered in my reading by unfamiliar idea: against which must be said that though I have the ordinary educated person’s knowledge of psychological vocabulary (wrong use of the adjective, I suppose!) I am nevertheless not a trained psychologist, nor do I read gratefully pages that contain /the/ technical terms of the science. No, it’s not unreadable. I find your argument lucid, illuminating, just, true, with a fine balance and a rare sense of values, and in places a real beauty of phrasing. The argument is admirably developed, clear, easy to follow; numberless illustrations and asides are of arresting significance. You have used the argument most ably to get said a dozen things well worth saying – e.g. the relative values of the subject matter of art; art as a discipline in perceiving and expressing experiencing life, etc. And sometimes you rise to a fine eloquence. I like the passage (R XII) ‘to hold himself steady – ’ etc. And while I have to thank you for my own honorable mention, it is not because of that, that I say another very beautiful thing is your analysis of that vision of the lightning over the cultivated fields – ‘clear, high, sudden, heavenly’ – (and how much better is sudden than your deleted swift!). And towards the end the discussion of the two types of experiencing minds has some good passages. Your word transflammation is good – it has subtle suggestions in it that enhance the meaning. Had I been near you doubtless there are lots of minor points I’d have wanted to discuss, but they are all minor. For the argument, the development, the idea and the value of it, I have nothing but praise. An admirable piece of work – I am all the more impatient to see it in print for having already read it. Deil tak that ignorant Sassenachs that canna see a fine fat salmon when you play it under their noses! – Not that I suppose the book

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76   nan shepherd’s correspondence would pay wildly even when printed. Yet it ought to have a fair public. Think of all the practitioners of the art of fiction alone. They all ought to read it. You will be interested in what happened to the Weatherhouse. I began it with a certain theme in mind and when I laid it aside last October had some seven chapters written. Through the winter though I wasn’t writing, the people were often in my mind and slowly, though the facts of the tale, the plot, didn’t alter, I saw a new theme emerge from them. The emphasis shifted – new layers of experience within the story came into my ken. This summer I began at the beginning, with the new theme and emphasis and rewrote the whole. Only some six pages of the original remain. A synopsis of the facts would be unaltered, practically. Yet it is quite a different book. But – and this is the fascinating thing – I hadn’t gone far in this new writing when I saw that what was in the end to emerge was my old first image – that the true theme was what I had seen it to be at the beginning. The Hendrys have had a wretched time – tonsillitis on top of the measles – Alice down too. I hope they are in Tomintoul now but haven’t heard for a week. Are you behaving? Many thanks for MS. N. The silk is my latest garment. Worn at a wedding yesterday. Notes Dear Muriel-through-the-Mincer: Mackenzie’s friends called her Muriel, and Shepherd and Mackenzie often exchanged pet names in their letters. I apologize for having kept it so long: likely a reference to Mackenzie’s recent work of literary criticism, The Process of Literature: An Essay Towards Some Reconsiderations, published in 1929. The Hendrys have had a wretched time: possibly Alexander William Hendry (b. 1887) and his wife Eileen. Alexander Hendry was a contemporary of Shepherd’s and Mackenzie’s at Aberdeen University.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Neil M. Gunn Address from: Dunvegan,| West Cults,| Aberdeen MS: National Library of Scotland, Dep. 209, box 19, folder 7 19 August 1929

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Dear Mr. Neil Gunn, May a stranger be allowed to thank you for the pleasure she has had in reading Hidden Doors? There are things in it so imaginatively fine that they haunt the memory like great poetry: in particular the conclusion of Symbolical, which seems to me definitely to achieve greatness. In the old man frozen to his spade beyond the last dike he had built against the moor, you have summed up generations of our Scottish life. I have read the last page of that tale many times, yet one reading was all that was required to fix it ineradicably in my mind. – It is also very finely written, with an economy of wording that gives me a keen pleasure. Taken together the tales evoke a life and a place that in spite of their drabness have a heroic grandeur over them. In The Sea and Down to the Sea especially the sense of man’s greatness looms magnificently up. And the description in both these tales catches my breath. You have often a lovely power in phrasing – ‘like a crying from all the ends of life’ – ‘the sensation of that deathly moor heaving and billowing down on him like a sea’ – ‘the black peat and the great breasts of the hills and the austere peaks’ – ‘a sheep-track so lonely, so lost’ – ‘the loneliness of that cottage was a thing to catch the heart’ – I could quote on and on for sheer delight in quoting. I love also your power to translate into words what is so nearly untranslatable – the deep beauty of simple primal human relationships: longproved long /love/ between man and woman, motherhood. The mother in The Sea is exquisite. And I like your appreciation of what I have watched myself many times with delight – the intensifying of colours in the dusk. Yellows, and orange, seem to come alive and float up like an essence from the substances in which they were held. May I say how sorry I am that your Lost Glen has not yet been published in book form. Miss Marion Angus told me some time ago that you were having difficulty in finding a publisher. I read the first instalment when it appeared but, detesting serials, left the rest alone, intending to have it as soon as it came complete; and now I feel cheated. I hope to hear soon that it is to appear. Meanwhile, the thanks of one reader – no, of two, for my mother also has enjoyed it – for your gift of beauty and interpretation. In sincere respect – Nan Shepherd Notes Hidden Doors: Gunn’s early collection of short stories, Hidden Doors, published by the Porpoise Press in 1929. the conclusion of Symbolical: the sixth story in Hidden Doors. The Sea and Down to the Sea: the first and eighth stories in Hidden Doors.

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78   nan shepherd’s correspondence how sorry I am that your Lost Glen has not yet been published: The Lost Glen had been published in serial form in the Scots Magazine in April 1928, where Shepherd first encountered it. Gunn struggled after that, though, to find a publisher for the whole. It would not be published until 1932.

From: Neil Gunn, to Nan Shepherd Address from: Larachan,| Dochfour Drive,| Inverness. MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 26900, ff. 103–5 26 August 1929 Dear Miss Shepherd, Your letter has to-day reached me from the Porpoise Press. Being so sensible of the value of your own work, I appreciate it very highly. Indeed, I have discussed ‘The Quarry Wood’ with men like C. M. Grieve, The Scots Magazine Editor, &c., frequently and would have written you personally were it not that I found more public ways of expression – as, for example, in a broadcast talk from Glasgow on modern Scottish Letters, where I gave it as my opinion that your work is more significant, more full of hope for Scotland, than all the novels of the ‘Glasgow School’ put together. Had there been – there wasn’t – a lingering doubt in my mind, your first poem in The Scots Magazine would have dissipated it. For we have got to that stage where we need something more than a realism which is so often little more than a species of reporting designed to attract at all costs – & now the less when it is a ‘daring’ reporting! I hope you are busy. If there is any chance of your being in Inverness at any time, please call round. My wife & I should be delighted to meet you. We could also have a quite useful little talk – even an amusing one – about literary affairs in Scotland to-day! Work of the quality you are doing will have to put up a pretty stiff fight. Interested forces should as far as possible continue – were it only to have the fun of it, for they are not likely to get this from elsewhere – not, any how, out of second editions! I should be glad to hear that you are busy deploying your forces. I’m afraid I’m rather lazy & haven’t, indeed, written a word – beyond reviewing – for some months. The Lost Glen is still in my drawer – where it will lie for some time. Too political, I’m afraid; a trifle too concerned with the Highlands as they are; not enough romantic tartan. It is so easy to dish up precisely what is wanted! Meantime, my interest has turned to drama. The Scottish Players are putting on a full-dress play of mine in Glasgow in early October. (I’m afraid it won’t do them any good!) And the B. B. C., London, have just written requesting permission to broadcast my one-act play, The Hawk’s Feather (in current Scots Mag) from Aberdeen on Sept. 24. Again, how they are to get it across, I don’t know! But it all means that our forces are beginning to

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make a slight impression. But the real pleasure in the fight comes from the exquisite understanding of what Whitman would call a comrade. Yours very sincerely Neil M Gunn. Notes from the Porpoise Press: based in Edinburgh, and Gunn’s regular publishers until the late 1930s. I have discussed ‘The Quarry Wood’ with men like C. M. Grieve, The Scots Magazine Editor: Shepherd’s novel The Quarry Wood was published in 1928. C. M. Grieve (better known as Hugh MacDiarmid) and the editor of the Scots Magazine, James Bell Salmond (1891–1958). a broadcast talk from Glasgow: it has not been possible to identify the talk that Gunn gave. the ‘Glasgow School’: C. M. Grieve (Hugh MacDiarmid) gathered a number of writers in an essay called ‘New Scottish Fiction’, including George Blake (1893– 1961), Catherine Carswell (1879–1946), Dot Allan (1886–1964), George Woden (1884–1978), and others, all of whom had close connections with Scotland’s Central Belt. The essay was published in Grieve’s 1926 volume Contemporary Scottish Studies. The first coiner of the phrase ‘Glasgow School’ remains unclear. your first poem in The Scots Magazine: Shepherd’s poem ‘Lux Perpetua’ was published in the Scots Magazine in August 1929. My wife: Daisy Gunn (d. 1963). The Lost Glen is still in my drawer: Gunn’s novel had been published in serial form in the Scots Magazine from April 1928. Its topic was considered difficult by presses, though, and it would not be published as a whole until 1932, when the Porpoise Press gave it a home. a full-dress play of mine in Glasgow: The Ancient Fire was performed by the Scottish National Players. The play ran for five performances from 8 October 1929.

From: Agnes Mure Mackenzie, to Nan Shepherd No address MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2750/28 [No date, 1929] Nancy my dear, here’s luck. And how’s the Weatherhouse? And the weather – its a bonny bright crisp day here, like an early spring. We had a decent time at Winterbank, and some starlight. It was fine to see Orion around again. He carries neither sword nor bow in London – by Jix’s regulations, I suppose.

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80   nan shepherd’s correspondence The U. S. A. is so full of Christmas good will that it returns declined MSS. with the envelope sealed with bright wafers marked Merry Christmas. And the Atlantic Monthly declined that Scots Magazine yarn on the grounds that it was unable to adapt it to its own use. I have been devising adaptations ever since – and brave punishments. Evans has now remaindered W. S. P. /The Women of Shakespeare’s Plays/ I’m sorry. It was still selling, and might have gone on doing so. The Process is with No. 14. Out of Hearing, the play, a couple of short stories (U. S. A.) and a review article are seeking houses, not to mention a revue turn, & I’m almost thinking of digging out my poems – I scrapped a few more of them the other day. And someone wants to know why I’m not writing anything! I’ve done 4 chapters of the Falling Wind. I hear Aberdeen considers my books are ‘naughty.’ (word used.) This interests me. What’s their adjective for that leading light of Scottish Nationalism? Compton McK? Or Aldous Huxley? Sorry about Gunn. I did try to make C’s. take it. But though its very sincere & able & lively journalism, & says something that wanted saying, it is journalism, not creative literature. Its very good journalism, though, & deserves print. Edward Albert has gone down (got him in MS. for Harpers.) tho the not ineffably conceited wd. [not] have sent out such a typescript to begin with – half the words weren’t there & the rest illegible. There’s some really good writing in it, but its marred by a very bad piece of sentimentality which takes the form of a piece of gratuitous nastiness, not only extraneous to his design but contradicting the whole of it, and obviously dragged in to be ‘intellectual.’ I’m awfully sick about it – I really hoped something from him. Hogmanay was good fun, (though Lord help the woman – she lives in Edinburgh!) and excellent journalism. But again, just that. And Kate Curlew, though with far less parade of ideas, was more. In spite of clumsy writing (I did want to comb her dialogue) it has stuck six years in my memory. I re-read it lately, & still liked it. But there’s a queer surfaceness in Scots fiction. We seem to lack any fundamental aesthetic conception of the novel as a piece of creative art, not just a photograph – or as oleograph. You, Naomi Mitchison, & myself are about the only Scots I can think of who write novels. And neither N. M. nor I will be admitted, by a Scots literary gent, as a Scots novelist, I believe! We can show neither Kail-stalks nor green shutters. I forgot W. Dukes. The Laird is a novel all right, though I’m inclined to doubt its a happy accident, to judge by her other stuff. Her action & set were all laid out and shaped to her hand. Its tremendously effective, but its probably that the real Ann Clerke had as much to do with it as W. D. Got rewrites – I ought to be using my hand for work & not lucubrations on Scots fiction. Good luck, t’ye. Yours M.

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Notes how’s the Weatherhouse: Shepherd was in the process of redrafting The Weatherhouse. We had a decent time at Winterbank: the house in Queensbury, near Bradford in Yorkshire, that Mackenzie had visited since at least 1915. Jix’s regulations: a reference to the restrictions imposed by William Joynson-Hicks (1865–1932), popularly known as ‘Jix’. He was the serving Home Secretary at the time of this letter, and had built a reputation as a killjoy authoritarian after his clampdown on London nightclubs and other ‘undesirable’ forms of entertainment. that Scots Magazine yarn: likely ‘The Château à la Fontaine’, published in the April 1928 issue of the Scots Magazine (pp. 46–50). Evans has now remaindered W. S. P.: Charles Seddon Evans (1883–1944), editor at Heinemann. The Women in Shakespeare’s Plays was based on Mackenzie’s doctoral work, and helped establish her reputation as a literary historian. Although Heinemann had published a number of Mackenzie’s works they did not make any money, and an unfortunate dispute about her subsequent works led to the termination of Mackenzie’s relationship with Heinemann and with Evans. I’ve done 4 chapters of the Falling Wind: Mackenzie’s novel that would be published in 1930. that leading light of Scottish Nationalism: likely a reference to Hugh MacDiarmid. Compton McK: Edward Montague Compton Mackenzie (1883–1972), novelist and a prominent Scottish nationalist; Aldous Huxley (1894–1963), novelist. Sorry about Gunn. I did try to make C’s. take it: a reference to Neil Gunn’s novel The Lost Glen, which was struggling to find a publisher. Mackenzie evidently attempted to persuade her publisher, Constable & Co., to take it on. The Porpoise Press would publish the novel in 1932. Edward Albert has gone down: literary historian Edward Albert (1890–1944). Hogmanay was good fun: novel by Christine Orr (1899–1963), published in 1928. Kate Curlew: a novel also by Christine Orr, published in 1922. Naomi Mitchison: Scottish novelist and historical writer Naomi Mitchison (1897–1999). We can show neither Kail-stalks nor green shutters: a reference to how Mackenzie and Shepherd shared little with either the ‘Kailyard’ school of sentimental Scottish writing, or the sort of literature represented by George Douglas Brown in The House with the Green Shutters (1901), which broke with the Kailyard tradition. I forgot W. Dukes. The Laird is a novel all right: The Laird by Scottish novelist Winifred Duke (1890–1962), published in 1925.

From: Agnes Mure Mackenzie, to Nan Shepherd No address MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2750/29 [No date, 1930]

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82   nan shepherd’s correspondence Nancy my dear, as there’s no address attached to conclude you are back again by the Dee, if any. It is raining in torrents here – the first for 37 days. Lochaber sounds entertaining – though I’d rather not have an asp in my bedroom, even marble. It seems ages since I wrote, and I dont know where to begin. I’ve been very tired and feeling rather futile. To be working at a book that one doesn’t intend even to try to publish gives me a nasty sense of wasted time. Out of Hearing is back again – No. 19. The P. L. /Process of Literature/ is having a fairish press in the dailies, but it seems to puzzle them badly. The only two Scots papers that have done it seemed to have no difficulty in giving a recognisable account of the subject-matter, but the English ones just flounder, with more or less friendliness. The comparative headlines are funny – the last batch are ‘The Detective and Literature’ (Daily News.) ‘Psychology and Letters’ (Yorkshire Post) and ‘Literature and Life’ (Scotsman.) And I am told I glorify intellect at the expense of emotion, and also that I glorify emotion at the expense of intellect. Selah. The weeklies haven’t got going, but when they do (and if) I shall be up against the Oxford Atheists, which will pretty certainly think its an outrage. But I am better pleased with it, lapses and all, than with anything I’ve seen of mine in print, so I’m not worrying much, except over the rather gross misrepresentations in the T. L. S. which were a pity. The How’s the Pig? This peripatetic career cant put much squeak in it. Or were you after local colour? I’ve found a doctor who is tackling my back, and apparently doing it a good deal of good. I did damage something, though not seriously, and I should be a lot better when its put right. She’s a manipulative surgeon (qualified medical woman) Swedish by extraction, I think, quite young, and a charming person, with wonderful hands. She thinks she can do something to my lug. I didn’t know it was possible to reach the auditory nerve in that way, but it is – there was no doubt she was getting at it. As its a simple matter of chronic inflammation and a dulling of the nerve, the means, since they can be applied, seem sound enough. Only its 30 years old. I don’t know if she really can do much, but it is possible, certainly. For one thing, I am in better care physically than I’ve ever been in my life. For another, I think she has, in addition to skill, the natural gift of effective touch that some people do seem to have by nature. Her effect on my back, in one treatment, has been remarkable. I have had two nights profound sleep already. So I’m going to try about the lug. If I do manage to get enough to pass for normal. I may be able to do something about other deaf people. I can’t [deletion] now. If I tried now, say, to make it impossible for a theatre audience to howl with mirth because a deaf man was anxious to hear some news that concerned him just as much as his neighbours, I should be only a whimpering cripple, after all. I came on the remark in a novel y’day that deaf people didn’t seem quite human, somehow. It does reflect a quite common attitude. Well – we are. Especially the partly deaf! – whom nobody seems to care about. The Enc. Brit article about deafness goes on for pages about the deaf and dumb, who certainly need helping: but it hardly mentions children deafened by

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disease or accident, and does not suggest that anything should be done for them. Yet there must be a lot, and in a way they are more difficult than the stone-deaf, as there the abnormality is so clear cut that one allows for its psychological effects. Even I myself have only realised in the last few years the twists that deafness has put into me. Of course, it is only in the last few years that I have been seriously up against the inferiority element in contact with my fellows. All my life, until I left Birkbeck, I’ve [deletion] had a definite status in my immediate community, accepted so [deletion] unconsciously I never had to think of it. I deferred to my seniors and accepted, or expected, deference from my juniors without having to think of it in personal contacts. Now I’ve no supporting status, in any contact, but what I can make at the moment, for the moment. Hence the necessary fumbling, when I’m dealing with people not used to me, as I normally am, gives me a horrid sense of clumsiness. Further, living with a definite status in a closed community, means that people know and accept that status, even if its a bajan’s, much as you do. But when its completely vague, they judge you by the customary externals – Are you an Important Person, which generally means are you rich and have you influence? I’m chronically poor and unfashionable in both person and work, so that to deal with people I need a sort of clear grasp of a contact, /to parry the automatic tendency to snub,/ & can’t get it; /or only by an effort/ Hence assorted psychological research & this discourse. Well – good luck to yourself & the Pig. Where’s the other one? And will H. T. ever be able to bestow a compliment without contriving to insult someone else? Yours M. Notes Lochaber sounds entertaining: Shepherd often travelled to western Scotland and returned there throughout her life. Out of Hearing is back again: during this period Mackenzie experienced considerable professional disappointments, and she kept count at this point of the number of rejections she received for each work. Having burned bridges with her former publishers, Heinemann, the previous year, Mackenzie struggled for some time to find homes for her writing. The P. L.: The Process of Literature: An Essay Towards Some Reconsiderations, a work of literary criticism published in 1929. The only two Scots papers: The Process of Literature was reviewed by the Aberdeen Press and Journal (31 October 1929) and The Scotsman (23 September 1929). Both were broadly positive, though the former found parts of the book ‘difficult’, and the latter found Mackenzie’s focus on novels rather than poets to mar the work. the rather gross misrepresentations in the T. L. S.: The Process of Literature was reviewed in the Times Literary Supplement on 19 September 1929. The review was critical, giving much space to the ‘methodological weakness’ of Mackenzie’s

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84   nan shepherd’s correspondence book, but it also praised what it described as an ‘interesting and highly provocative essay’ (p. 719). Selah: an expression used often by Mackenzie. It is possibly taken from the Hebrew, meaning ‘to lift up’ or ‘to exalt’, though scholarship suggests the word might also have significance as musical notation, where it might indicate a pause. I am told I glorify intellect at the expense of emotion: Mackenzie here is commenting on the review in The Scotsman, which said that in the book Mackenzie ‘lays undue stress upon the greatness, the intensity of the emotion’ (p. 2). How’s the Pig: a comic acronym used by Mackenzie to refer to Shepherd’s novelin-progress, A Pass in the Grampians. Only its 30 years old: Mackenzie experienced hearing loss as a child after suffering scarlet fever. The Enc. Brit article: the Encyclopaedia Britannica. until I left Birkbeck: Birkbeck College where Mackenzie worked for five years before being dismissed after student complaints about her lecturing style: Mackenzie’s deafness affected her speech. will H. T. ever be able to bestow a compliment: probably Hettie T, mentioned elsewhere by Mackenzie. It has not been possible to identify this individual, who was most likely a fellow reviewer in the London papers.

From: Unknown, to Nan Shepherd Addressed to: Miss Nan Shepherd| To Messrs Constable| Book publishers| London [in another hand] Dunvegan,| West Cults,| Aberdeen. MS: National Library of Scotland, Dep. 209, box 19, folder 7 [No date, around 5 March 1930] Miss Nan Shepherd, I love your sweet face, tenderness & understanding in every line of this profile. I cannot offend you, and although you may laugh at your unknown fool your mistful & wistful aura draws feelings from the depths of my being I would not offend you (but a smile, a touch) but do not be afraid I would never seek you. As harmless as the sunshine on your moor.

From: Neil Gunn, to Nan Shepherd Address from: Larachan,| Dochfour Drive,| Inverness. MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 26900, ff. 106–7 10 March 1930

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Dear Miss Shepherd, I am returned the other day from a few weeks’ holiday and the first pleasure I had promised myself, and gave myself, was the reading of your new book. And that pleasure is now left with the curious impression of a strength and power almost too concentrated as though out of too sensitive a regard for the pure in art You had refined everything to the essential, even the quintessential. Have you done us too great an honour? I almost wonder! And there again not in your landscape or background where you have permitted a fulness that is vivid and shining, solid and yet translated to its ‘fiery particles’, as in your characterisation. Your feel for character is so sure that you positively do sleight-of-hand with it. This is magical, illuminating, but, how shall I say? the least trifle sudden! I am thinking more of the normal reader. (Of whom, of course, I never think when I am underway myself! It is, I am told, my cardinal fault.) Possibly I am merely moved by the very commonplace desire to see work that I like successful – at least in the sense of attracting many readers. This sympathy, I know, is spurious, and it would give me the greatest pleasure in the world to find that it was unnecessary. I shall, any how, be greatly interested to know how the book does. Which must sound almost like qualified praise. Which would be at least amusing. Were it not that I am taking the bigness of the work as obvious and immediately jumping to the possible reaction of the public, particularly of the Scottish public. Possibly as a fellow craftsman. You may not be deeply interested in this seeing the work is your own and, creatively, done with. But, as the outsider, I am, on this occasion. There is some extraordinarily fine work in this book. You have indeed been spendthrift. And there is often a stark strength passing into austerity that I like too well. I was disappointed that the P. E. N. function broke up without our having a talk. In talk you can get down to things. And I’m afraid I was prepared for an all-night sitting! Instead of which I was compelled solitarily to go aloft about midnight! It was too bad. Positively without even a good-night to the one or two whom I was really interested in! William Jeffrey said to Cleghorn Thomson (of B. B. C.) the other day in Glasgow that he would take charge of a certain literary affair if he could hold the meetings in a pub. I homologated heartily! With my profoundest congratulations & all best wishes for a wise public Yours sincerely Neil M Gunn. Notes your new book: The Weatherhouse, which had been published in 1930. the P. E. N. function: a meeting in Aberdeen of Scottish PEN, a branch of International PEN, founded in 1927, that both Shepherd and Gunn attended and at which they met, though they talked only briefly.

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86   nan shepherd’s correspondence William Jeffrey said to Cleghorn Thomas: William Jeffrey (1896–1946), poet and journalist in Glasgow; David Cleghorn Thomson (1900–80), who was at this time director of the BBC in Scotland.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Neil M. Gunn Address from: Dunvegan,| West Cults,| Aberdeen MS: National Library of Scotland, Dep. 209, box 19, folder 7 14 March 1930 Dear Mr. Gunn, I too was sorry that there was so little chance to talk at the P.E.N. dinner. But a massed affair of that kind isn’t really the place for talking, is it? Some day, I hope, we shall have opportunity and leisure for something more satisfying than set speeches. I don’t know if you are ever in Aberdeen – if you are, Mother and I would be very pleased to see you here. And I certainly mean to call when next I come to Inverness. Yes, I know The Weatherhouse demands closer reading than many of its readers will give it. And I know also that that is partly due to bad craftsmanship, and partly to good! There are a lot of subtleties of character presentation that wouldn’t strike the average reader, at any rate at a first reading; and equally there are a lot of blurred effects, where I haven’t really got the meaning through. I’m not particularly proud of the thing as a whole, though I know well enough that there are good things in it. And I writhed under some of the too too flattering ejaculations of the Scots press. Don’t you loathe having your work over-praised? It makes me feel positively nasty towards the praiser. I do so hate the habit of certain types of (presumably well-meaning) persons who gather to the fray and fight a long hour by Shrewsbury Braemar. – But, you know, I’m not really a literary person either. There’s a great big bit of me detached, and amused, and quite often cynical, that weighs the wind of the Spirit with the weights for corn and potatoes and things. And when I said art mattered supremely, I didn’t mean [deletion] craftsmanship, but the thing inside, that is part of living just as is eating one’s porridge and loving one’s wife and getting excited over one’s holiday – the grasp of the essential meaning and nature and being of whatever one turns into art, I mean. When one gets it, absolutely, as the Parthenon and the Ninth Symphony and the Sonnet on Chapman’s Homer get it, it is already form – one hasn’t got it till completely till it is form, because it is a meaning that doesn’t exist on earth or heaven save in that one unique form. And that seems to me something quite central to life – creating new meaning in it, creating it. Without that creative power life doesn’t get any forwarder. And – this isn’t a digression, it’s only necessary to clarify what I want to say – you are a decent sort, you know, to write me as you did because I was

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in Thomas’s frame of mind and wouldn’t believe in the light. I had been rather ill again and rather miserable. But since I came up here something has happened to me – not only that physically I’m stronger than I’ve been for a long time, but my whole nature has suddenly leaped into life – and I’ve been, like the hens in Saint Joan, laying like mad! I don’t know whether the results are any more valuable than eggs – it’s nothing great after all to produce an egg (not if you are a hen, anyhow) especially when what you want to produce is rather to be figured as a Taj Mahal. But it’s the producing that matters so gloriously. I’ve been making poems at about the rate of one a day – almost effortlessly – and yet without with sufficient detachment from my own intoxication to recognize that they are really the product of a thousand efforts, of thoughts that have tormented me and emotions that have wrung and exalted, and things seen and heard long ago that suddenly slip into just the imagery to convey a whole complex of thought and feeling. And as each new poem wells up into being, it doesn’t seem to matter what my critical judging self will think of it when the stirring of the wells is over – a poor thing but mine own doesn’t get it – what matters is that even though a poor thing it is a new thing – completely and absolutely new – a copy of nothing that existed before on earth, nor yet in heaven – no Platonic ideas can explain this miracle – but things already existent, separate, uncombined, swing together in a knot of light – two and two make not four but infinity – and the thrill that seizes you is a sort of drunkenness of God. But it’s all a cold inhuman kind of poetry – about stars and mountains and light and that sort of thing. When I’m possessed that’s the only kind of thing that comes out of me! – I’ve been thinking by the way a good deal up here of that side of Hugh McDiarmid’s genius. There are things in Cencrastus that would make me die of envy if I hadn’t already died of sheer joy at their discovery. Some day I should like to work out a contract between him and Burns (not on paper, I’m too indolent – but perhaps I’ll do it some day as a talk to one or other of the Literary Societies that keep asking me to ‘favour’ them) – probably C. M. G. would be angry, but I shouldn’t mind that. They represent two such opposite sides of the Scottish genius, and both so tremendously real – and I suppose one might say the difference is much the difference between Chaucer and Shelley – the man who glories in every manifestation of the actual, relishing common life with a divine gusto – and the man who strikes upward out of the mess and stultifying inertia of the herd, sword-sharp and flashing, to the cold shining heights of the intellect and the spirit. You know, I recognize both things in myself, at a lower power – a keen relish of the coarse salty vulgar life about me – and at the same time an intolerable intolerance of it – the mood out of which I write my poetry. If one could combine the two – ? irradiate the common? That should make something universal. – My greatest friend told me years ago – he wanted me then to publish my verse and I refused – that not a dozen people would be able to understand it! Not that it is obscure, or symbolist, or anything of that sort – but ‘caulder than mou’ can thole.’

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88   nan shepherd’s correspondence – You are probably away – it doesn’t matter, this letter can find you any time. I can’t even post it till I go home (tomorrow) because I’ve gone clean out of envelopes. I wish I could stay up here another month! – long enough any how to let the mood wear itself out. Instead of which I return to my heaven-appointed task of trying to prevent a few of the students who pass through our Institution from conforming altogether to the approved pattern. Thanks awfully for your letter. Nan Shepherd – Notes little chance to talk at the P.E.N. dinner: both Shepherd and Gunn were members of Scottish PEN, a branch of International PEN, founded in 1927 (Gunn a founder member), and had met briefly at a dinner in Aberdeen. fight a long hour by Shrewsbury Braemar: a reference to Shakespeare’s Henry IV: Part I, where Falstaff claims that he and Hotspur ‘fought a long hour by Shrewsbury clock’ at the Battle of Shrewsbury. Mackenzie adds Braemar because the metaphorical battle in Shakespeare’s play (about nothing, because Falstaff only pretended to fight) resembles the literary battle being fought over Shepherd’s Braemar-inspired Cairngorms-set novel. the Parthenon: in Athens, constructed around 432 bc. the Ninth Symphony: by Ludwig van Beethoven, first performed in 1824. Sonnet on Chapman’s Homer: by John Keats, ‘On First Looking into Chapman’s Homer’ (1816). I was in Thomas’s frame of mind: a reference to Christ’s Apostle Thomas, who refused to believe in the resurrection until he saw the wounds caused by Christ’s crucifixion. I had been rather ill again and rather miserable: Shepherd’s health was poor at this time, and she would undergo surgery on her appendix in 1931. But since I came up here: Shepherd was writing to Gunn from the Cairngorms. like the hens in Saint Joan: in the play Saint Joan by George Bernard Shaw (first performed in 1923), Robert Baudricourt’s hens begin laying plentifully after he agrees to supply the warrior-maiden with weapons and a horse. no Platonic ideas can explain this miracle: Shepherd is referring here to the Platonic idea of forms and particulars. In Platonism forms exist ideally, and materially, but the material form can never quite match the perfection of the ideal, imagined form. ‘Particulars’ are copies of forms, participating in the form but only ever reproducing it. Shepherd seems to be conceiving of her poetry as an entirely new form, perhaps even an ideal form. Cencrastus: To Circumjack Cencrastus, or the Curly Snake, a long poem by Hugh MacDiarmid in Scots, published in 1930.

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probably C. M. G. would be angry: C. M. Grieve, Hugh MacDiarmid’s real name. ‘caulder than mou’ can thole.’: a line from the poem that would become Poem XVIII in In the Cairngorms when Shepherd published her poetry in 1934. our Institution: Aberdeen Training College.

From: Marion Angus, to Nan Shepherd Address from: ZOAR| HAZELHEAD,| ABERDEEN MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 27438, item 9 [No date, 1930] My dear Nan Shepherd. My heart felt congratulation on the Weather house. It is a fine book, a great book & I am rejoicing in the thought of its success. Both as a wonderful study of character of individual character & of a type of Nor Eastern Scots character – a masterpiece. I am fascinated with the mental & spiritual impression received from night & day & Spring Weather & moon & Stars on that familiar upland – Not the fluous abandon & lusty joy of the Scene in Banlie Paterson nor the weaker Royce & Garry. Banlie is a creation such as the old dramatist would have delighted – . The book is both epic & dramatic & the weatherhouse ladies No one who has met them but will be followed & haunted & obsessed by them all this time. I am not in sympathy with Garry but that [sic] immaterial – & merely an idyosyncracy [sic] of my own. Grey is perfect if you had done nothing else, he would have been enough, & Stella excellent. I am truly thine after only one reading of the book & on the impulse of thanking you for it all ready will doubtless further increase my admiration & possibly rouse some fair criticism in my mind, but here’s to ‘love at first sight’ Yours ever Marion Angus

From: Marion Angus, to Nan Shepherd Address from: Cranford| Lasswade| Midlothian MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 3036/8 8 July [1930]

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90   nan shepherd’s correspondence My dear Nan Shepherd I have a feeling that you are at Braemar I seem to visualise /you/ stepping lightly over the moorland, your golden hair blowing in the wind – I suppose you do go at intervals to a tall building in a gay street & with hordes of lights & windows but I never seem quite to realize it. For me you are a part of the Red hill country & a kind of emanation of the spirit which lives there. I am moping here in a damp turnippy fieldy district uninspired & alas depressed about the future moving into Glasgow & returning sorrowful. Well I can ‘thole’ as much as others I trust but the perpetual heartache is heavy carrying. When I read your verses I am touched beyond words for there in ‘the Shadow’ my eyes drink in the outer beauty & lo! the inward light dawns clear & softly The wonderful secret dawns & is for a moment grasped. The 3rd stanza is I think as near perfection as lyric verse can reach – ‘She takes his nature on herself But knows not what it means’ The simplicity the very quietness of it gives one that shock of delight, which of course you understand, & which is so rare, certainly in modern poetry. I admire & wonder but shall never come near it & have never done so. I met Miss Cruickshank in Edinburgh yesterday. She spoke of you. I came nearer her than I had ever done before in sharing a great grief to some extent, which she has lately had. You are having I believe a visit from a Miss Speedie ‘Making Scotsman. Very nice sincere woman. She was interested when she heard I claimed you as a friend. She writes herself and is I think very sympathetic & understanding. A queer thing happened last Sunday, by no significance you will say but it gladdened me with home feelings. I was going alone to church beside Ron Drummonds tomb when a well known figure passed before me. I looked he looked He said ‘Miss Marion Angus’ & I ‘Dr Kelly’. We stood & conversed very happily I thought in the country road. And I don’t know Dr Kelly to speak to that is, nor he me. So then again I got on to the subject of Nan Shepherd you see. I wish you would give me some advice about writing one or two short passages for young people wanted by the B. B. C. They asked if I could do them. I am not keen but I want to keep going also to get a guinea or two in the bargain From Scottish history or tradition only a few characters I have thought of all the old Bruce & the Spiders, Kate Barlasses etc etc but they won’t do. What about scenes from Scott? would that be too plagiaristic. When you find time if you can suggest anything I should be grateful indeed. I trust your mother keeps well. The weather here is bad & gloomy. My love to you Marion Angus

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Notes the perpetual heartache is heavy carrying: Angus was caring for her sister Ethel who, after a crisis in her mental health, had been admitted to Glasgow Royal Asylum at Gartnavel in 1930. The move forced Angus to sell her home in Aberdeen in order to be nearer her sister. a visit from a Miss Speedie: it has not been possible to identify this individual. beside Ron Drummonds tomb: it has not been possible to identify this. ‘Dr Kelly’: William Kelly (1861–1944), Shepherd’s uncle on her mother’s side. He was a prominent architect in Aberdeen and awarded an LLD from Aberdeen University in 1919. Bruce & the Spiders: an old legend associated with Robert the Bruce (1274–1329) who, while hiding in a cave, is supposed to have watched a spider fail repeatedly to spin a web. After it eventually succeeded, the Bruce took inspiration from the spider’s struggle to battle the English once again, this time emerging victorious at the Battle of Bannockburn in 1314. Kate Barlasses: Kate Barless, otherwise known as Catherine Douglas (active 1420– 60), who as lady-in-waiting to the Queen of Scotland, Joan Beaufort, tried to foil a plot to assassinate King James I. After the door to the king’s chamber was left unbolted by plotters, Barlass used her arms to bolt the door. According to the story she was badly injured when the assassins broke through the door. your mother keeps well: Jeannie Shepherd (1865–1950), younger sister of William Kelly.

From: Agnes Mure Mackenzie, to Nan Shepherd No address MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2750/30 [No date, November 1930] Nancy, you besom, it gave me a shock to hear you were being reissued without notes or appendix. I’m afraid you must have had a rotten time, poor lassie, and am very glad to hear the creature is mending. But I have small doubt you’ll be better for the revision: there was obviously something that wanted a good overhauling. Proceed to grow fat. As I weigh a bit more than 7 ½ myself and have about half your solid Northeastern boneses, it seems there is considerable scope for it. Is it so long since I wrote? Wowl! Life’s been tight, but prosperous on the whole. I started dreaming up work when Mother went, with more luck than usual. Ellis Roberts, upon whom be peace (that is to say if he wants it, which I doubt) received me as a man and a brother and gave me a 1200 worder on Adamson’s English Education (will you tell me how much I know about the subject, beyond that it doesn’t seem to be effective??) and

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92   nan shepherd’s correspondence a 1400 signed for the Christmas no. on a Life of Mrs. Gaskell, wh. gave me a lovely chance to say a lot of things I did want to say. The Mrs. G. was a real good turn, for it will do me a lot of good with editors &c. to be swanking arm in arm with this rather distinguished crowd. What E. R. (or I) are doing on a Liberal paper /New Statesman/ I kenna. But its politics are all I’ve got against it. And it has certainly been kind to me. A & U. & the Times have likewise sat up lately, so I’ve been busy. My last victim for the Times informs the world that Old Aberdeen reaches to the stronghold of Strathbogie. A reach at 35 miles shd satisfy Ormstock! And its – or was in the 1560s – ‘a cluster of sheilings & bothies.’ I heard the clash of an Elphinstonian cragies & gied him his pailes. Cypress goes slow. I’m quite well, but very tired & inclined to get floppy. Reviewing is tiring work, sp. when you’re trying to make an impression on a new editor, and of a paper whose politics and religion are hostile to your own – the latter can’t come to much, though, for E. R. (who is only literary editor) is notoriously as Catholic as myself. And my interest in politics is too sketchy for me to mind keeping off the grass. Just been to Antony & Cleopatra for the second time. AND HEARD IT! Lord, what a play! They gave it in clean edged, with hardly a cut and not a second’s pause but the two intervals. And a damn good production they were inspired to dress it much as say Paul Uesmese would have painted it, Renaissance with a flaming of Roman about the helmets & buskins and the arms generally. And the result was superb. They’d got much his lighting, & the fixed set was a sort of dark tawny orange, on three levels, Cleopatra in a great sumptuous looped-up gown of flame-colour, with enormous sleeves over lovely slender hands, and again in dark keen rose with a chain of emeralds, and at last in straighter lines of pale liquid gold. Antony in great puffed hose & sleeves, à la Durer, of dark jade-green and gold, with a jutting beard, and a variety of magnificent cloaks, & the rest according. I never saw a finer performance all round. C. was fire and air – a lovely swift fierce thing with a haunting voice. Antony was John Gielgud, who knows more about Sh. than any man I’ve ever come [deletion] across. He thinks and feels and moves inside the part, whatever it is, like a man of the Renaissance, accepting it as a modern Englishman couldn’t – his pole with an Irish cross – the Irish being the actor Terry. He, Enobarbus, & Caesar had gorgeous voices: the play of them on each other & Dorothy Greens was worth being deaf for. It was wonderfully acted all round. It took even the weaklings and raised them, and they all looked their parts so extraordinarily – Smyth must have paid a lot of attention to the make-up. Of course – well, the last I saw was RII. In that, the minors have simply got to stand round. In A & C, they’re all quite definite parts: even to Mecaenas & Co, with something definite to do & be, closely related to one or more of the leads. And with the leads playing as they did, they lifted the others. I could see the tears running down Iras’ face, and no wonder. But what a play! The Kingdom & the world and the glory of them. I wanted to go home and burn all I’d written, with one pen on the top –

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not from humility, for it was past humility being relevant, but as the only satisfying gesture. And to get it like that, to see it as Sh. would have seen it, and at its own lovely rhythm, get it through clean-cut like that . . . I feel so thankful to see a play of his (and the biggest of all of them) done as he would have wanted it to be. The more I read the big tragedies the more I put A & C at the very top. Hamlets more subtle, Lear the more terrible (indeed, A & C is not terrible but by sheer beauty – which is about the most terrible thing in the world, tests the profs when they come to deal with it!) and O in tension. But none of them touch it as a symphony of all these, and not even O. for pure poetry. And as a piece of dramatic writing its the superbest thing he ever did. There’s some wonderful harmonies of action in Hamlet, but its like a string quartette to an orchestra. The march of the stars in their courses is about it – or to be soberer, some huge piece of Gothic, with every stone alive and meaning something – the buttresses driving up at the apse of Notre Dame, like bells ringing or rhythmed surf against a rock. After which – WOWL! But it is, even though I get Sitwellism about it. Heaven send in Macbeth for which that team is there – J. G. & D. G. are heaven-born for the actors, & Smyth may have the sense to do it Renaissance. He did Hamlet, which showed his sense. And lovely it was. I’d like to see D. G. in Beatrice. Not quite sure how Gielgud wd. play comedy. But I’d back him for it after the third /second/ act. Well, its time I stopped & did some work. D. K. Broster and her pal Gertrude Schlich are coming up from the Old Vic to dinner & will be early. D. K. has just finished a new novel, which sounds nice. 1790s & the French landing in Wales. Title Ships in the Bay – nice, what? Here’s t’ye. And may you soon recover and be good. Have you plenty to read, or wd. you like a parcel? Blessings on you. Yours. M. A. U. Review??! Barring the fact that it carefully left out the point (and omitted the one of my novels that does actually deal with Aberdeen!) it didn’t do us badly. But if I shock Bon Accord, what does it say to ‘Lesley Storm’, poor dear? Said Mrs. Gaskell, (and she was a minister’s wife too) ‘I think I must be an improper woman without knowing it. I do shock people so!’) la la! My love to your mother. She must have had a worried time. Notes you were being reissued without notes or appendix: Mackenzie puns here on book revisions and the consequences of Shepherd’s recent operation to remove her appendix. Ellis Roberts: Richard Ellis Roberts (1879–1953), at this time literary editor of the New Statesman.

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94   nan shepherd’s correspondence Adamson’s English Education: English Education, 1789–1902 by John William Adamson (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1930). Mackenzie’s unsigned review was published in the New Statesman on 27 December 1930 (pp. 366–7). a Life of Mrs. Gaskell: A. Stanton Whitfield’s Mrs. Gaskell: Her Life and Work (London: George Routledge & Sons, 1929). Mackenzie’s unsigned review was not published in the Christmas edition of the New Statesman, but appeared on 10 August 1929 (pp. 556–7). A & U.: The publishers Allen & Unwin for whom Mackenzie was undertaking reviews. My last victim for the Times: it has not been possible to trace this review in the Times Literary Supplement. A reach at 35 miles shd satisfy Ormstock!: it has not been possible to identify this reference. Cypress goes slow: Cypress in Moonlight: An Operetta in Prose, which would be published in 1931. Just been to Antony & Cleopatra for the second time: the play was staged at the Old Vic under the direction of Harcourt Williams. The play attracted significant attention in the press for its staging and costuming. Paul Uesmese would have painted it: it has not been possible to identify this reference. à la Durer: Albrecht Dürer (1471–1528), a painter of the northern Renaissance who influenced artists across Europe with his portraits. He, Enobarbus: Enobarbus was played by Ralph Richardson (1902–83), while Dorothy Green (1892–1963) played Cleopatra. Smyth: Owen P. Smyth (1895–1979) was the play’s costume designer, and Iras was played by Joan Harben (1909–53). O: Othello. even though I get Sitwellism about it: of the style of the Sitwells, siblings active in the 1920s across a range of literary genres whose style tended towards the extravagant and the flamboyant. J. G. & D. G.: John Gielgud (1904–2000) and Dorothy Green. D. K. Broster and her pal Gertrude Schlich: Dorothy Kathleen Broster (1877– 1950), novelist, whose Ships in the Bay!, dealing with the landing of French Revolutionary troops near Fishguard, was published in 1931. Gertrude Schlich (c. 1878), was Broster’s companion. A. U. Review??!: the Aberdeen University Review, which published a review of The Process of Literature: An Essay Towards Some Reconsiderations (1929), Mackenzie’s controversial book of literary criticism, in March 1930 (pp. 147–9). what does it say to ‘Lesley Storm’: Lesley Storm was the pen name of Scottish writer Mabel Cowie (1898–1975), whose recent novel Lady, What of Life (1928) had engaged with ideas of Victorian sensibilities encountering the modern era.

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‘I think I must be an improper woman without knowing it. I do shock people so’: said by Elizabeth Gaskell (1810–65) after the publication of her novel Ruth in 1853. My love to your mother. She must have had a worried time.: a reference to Shepherd’s recent surgery to remove her appendix after a period of ill health.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Edith Robertson Address from: Dunvegan,| West Cults,| Aberdeen MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 3046/2/5/44 17 January 1931 Dear Mrs. Robertson, May I be allowed to thank you for the joy I have had in some of the lovely things in your poem? My chief delight is in your lyrics. They have a rhythm so quiet and yet so powerful – like the movement of a brimmed river. Their very stillness is deceptive, like the stream’s. I like particularly among them The Festal Day, the last two stanzas on p. 38 – ‘Thy stars are silent – ’ a couple of stanzas on p. 62 – ‘From far Damascus – wild thoughts I must forget’; the last verse of On the Road to Tyre and the first of Menaham’s Warning – the words, that is, addressed to him; and, loveliest of all, I think, the eight lines on p. 200 – ‘In the chilly dawn – ’. I have read these lines over and over again. The last two – no, three – no, I can’t divide it! It needs them all. The sound is a miracle. The assonance is wonderfully managed, and again the movement has something of the flow of water. In all these I feel that thought, emotion and sound have been fused so perfectly that the very sound itself conveys the emotion desired. In the rest of the poem – I think my pleasure is mostly in incidental things. I found myself wondering whether your plan for the whole could have permitted the christ to speak in the words of the Evangelists. To me at least the effect of the rhymed speech suggested too often a forcing of effect, that detracted from its value. But there are many things memorable both in the conception and in the workmanship. Touches of imaginative character drawing – as e.g. Peter’s cry – ‘I could not love the Master, did He my heart one hair’s breadth /move/ from its chosen love.’ And Mary of Bethany is fine. Particularly fine the first few stanzas describing her mother’s death, and, to me, most haunting of all, the stanza that tells of Lazarus’ visions – ‘Lazarus says he heard the stir – And says he heard a bell – And says he heard – ’ The whole has the effect of an echoing song that will not leave the memory – ‘He o’ercame o’ a sang.’

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96   nan shepherd’s correspondence The same skill in making sound convey emotion is seen in the changing of metre – eg. the turbulence that comes on the verse with John the Baptist’s death. And there are some touches of graphic description: ‘I slept till sudden morning blazed On waking forms that hitched their belts and bound their sandal doon.’ How that is seen! And ‘The Master left us then, and climbed alone Far up fantastic streets of basalt stone, Silver and black beneath the sinking moon – ’ I wonder if you have actually seen that landscape? It made me think instantly of Doughty’s descriptions of the desert of Arabia. I like too the ‘Ten old ecclesiastics, side by side.’ Will you accept the thanks of one reader for the beauty you have made? Sincerely yours Nan Shepherd Notes some of the lovely things in your poem: Robertson’s verse imagining of the Gospels, He is Become My Song: Carmen Jesu Nazareni (London: Macmillan, 1930). Doughty’s descriptions of the desert of Arabia: Travels in Arabia Deserta by Charles Montagu Doughty (1843–1926), published in 1888.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Neil Gunn Address from: Dunvegan,| West Cults,| Aberdeen. MS: National Library of Scotland, Dep. 209, box 19, folder 7 15 March 1931 Dear Mr. Gunn, I thought my thoughts about Morning Tide long ago. If I have not shared them with you, it is because I went back to work in February and found that life wasn’t roomy enough for anything else for a while. But now I come to thank you for the fresh out of door world of which you make me free. To praise the storm scene is a superfluity. It is superb. – Apart however from the actual description, and from the tense swift action, I am greatly struck (more in this book than in any of your others, though I have noted the same quality before) by your power to evoke presences – principalities and powers – the sense of aliveness and awareness in the outer world: ‘the black sea animals licking their paws’ – the

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boy ‘looking at the boulders as though the thought [deletion] might have been overheard’ – and on the poaching expedition ‘being born to the earth’ – ‘shapes and instincts crept out of his blood’ – and the evening light striking on the man and the boy gathering bait – ‘gleaming wayward moments of an intenser life.’ All of it supremely good, well to be insisted on in this age of machines and crowded streets and cities, when so many of us are losing – perhaps have never had – the sense of a life beyond man’s life, influences in air and earth and water, that man does not ignore if he is to be his full and completed self. – I hope large numbers of the twentyfive – twice or three times twenty-five thousand – readers will leave the book with their awareness quickened. And again, as in the last book, I love your power to evoke the simple natural human relationships – the normal, so much harder to evoke than the abnormal. The family life is beautifully rendered. Both parents – their relation to the children – the children’s to them. Things like the brother going for the bait on the /his/ last evening, and reminding Hugh of his duty just the minute before the boy sees his father already busy on the line – or (poignant and powerful because so true and natural) the exodus next morning – the luggage on the wheelbarrow, the waiting for the bus – all these things are right. I like the sense one has too of the father’s fine craftsmanship – not only in the management of his boat. ‘The line rattled across his oilskins like a flicked adder.’ And the way he catches Hugh’s ‘badly folded’ paper to light his pipe. And how cold you made me feel as dread of Hugh’s cold fingers! I remember a man I knew saying he had never felt really cold till he read Dauber. You get at one’s senses in the same way. – I was annoyed with the Times Lit. Supp. for giving you such a good review and then wasting it by sticking /it/ on the shelves with the news of small print notices. (Their review of Hidden Doors by the way made me furious.) But most of the others were fine. (Though I found myself wishing, possibly quite wrongly, that Compton Mackenzie hadn’t dragged the Scots Renaissance into it.) I had tea with J. H. Whyte the other afternoon – I suppose you’ve met it – Losh! my pen did that, not I. I thought I had written ‘met him’ and had a shock when I looked down on the paper. The psycho-analysts would say – ? What I was going to say was: I wish to God The Modern Scot would alter his facial expression sometimes. I felt his grin was of the genus Cheshire – even when the face had disappeared the grin would still be there. – He told me something that interested me much. A young man called Douglas Macdonald, who was a student under me here some six or seven years ago, and is now doing propaganda work for the Nationalist party in the Hebrides, has written a novel, of the Western Isles, that /over which/ Whyte is highly enthusiastic. (He gave me to understand that it beat Neil Gunn, and was what Neil Munro ought to have written but didn’t.) But perhaps you have heard of it? – The Porpoise Press was to have published it but has apparently drawn back and I didn’t know whether it has found another publisher or not. The boy could certainly

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98   nan shepherd’s correspondence write – I remember his essays vividly. And he had a forceful personality – in revolt, when I knew him, against many things, but with very positive powers when he discovered how and where to direct them. I am looking forward to his book. And I shall look forward to your next one. – Oh, our housekeeper, an unlettered person but a character, enjoyed Morning Tide exuberantly. I tell you this, because Katherine Mansfield was so happy over the compositor who said: ‘These kids are real!’ Very sincerely yours Nan Shepherd Notes Morning Tide: Gunn’s second novel, recently published. principalities and powers: a reference to Paradise Lost Book IX and the realms inhabited by Satan. he had never felt really cold till he read Dauber: Dauber, a narrative poem published to considerable acclaim in 1913 by John Masefield (1878–1967), the hugely successful poet who had recently been appointed Poet Laureate. I was annoyed with the Times Lit. Supp.: it has not been possible to locate this review. Possibly Shepherd is thinking of the appearance of Morning Tide in the small print notices where the considerable praise garnered by the novel was collected. Such notices appeared on 5 and 19 February and 5 March 1931. Hidden Doors: Gunn’s early collection of short stories, Hidden Doors, published by the Porpoise Press in 1929. The Times Literary Supplement reviewed the collection in a short review on 29 August 1929. Though they had much praise for Gunn the reviewer also claimed that ‘his emotional pitch is keyed too high’ (p. 670). that Compton Mackenzie hadn’t dragged the Scots Renaissance into it: Edward Montague Compton Mackenzie (1883–1972), novelist and a prominent Scottish nationalist. In the most recent edition of the Modern Scot (volume 1, number 4, January 1931), Mackenzie published an article, ‘The National Party’, where he yoked together the political project to secure Scottish independence with the difficulties of articulating a ‘Scottish’ literature. For Mackenzie ‘It is not worth while bothering about Scots music or Scots verse or Scots drama or Scots pictures if the sum total of Scottish art is to mean no more than the accentuation of provincial eccentricity’ (p. 27). I had tea with J. H. Whyte the other afternoon: James Huntington Whyte (1909– 62), publisher of the periodical the Modern Scot through which Whyte urged the ideas promoted by Hugh MacDiarmid and others active in the Scottish Renaissance. A young man called Douglas Macdonald: Thomas Joseph Douglas MacDonald (1906–75), a devoted nationalist who had, for a time, studied Gaelic while at Glasgow University. He was about to make his mark as a novelist; the manuscript Gunn mentions was likely that of The Albannach, which would be published in 1932

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by John Heritage after a campaign in support by Hugh MacDiarmid. MacDonald studied at Aberdeen Training College under Shepherd between 1923 and 1925. was what Neil Munro ought to have written but didn’t: Neil Munro (1863–1930), whose novels were a reaction to the ‘Kailyard’ school of sentimental Scottish writing. Gunn would react similarly to sentimentality about rural life in his work. The Porpoise Press was to have published it: MacDonald submitted the manuscript of The Albannach to the Porpoise Press, but the novel was eventually published by the firm of John Heritage in 1932. The novel established MacDonald as a major voice in Scottish letters. our housekeeper: Mary Lawson (1884–1976), Shepherd’s housekeeper and companion. Katherine Mansfield: New Zealand writer Katherine Mansfield (1888–1923). The compositor was working on Mansfield’s story ‘Prelude’ (1918), and their remark attests to Mansfield’s gift for capturing something of the truth of life.

From: Agnes Mure Mackenzie, to Nan Shepherd Address from: 2 Place Emile Zola| Tours| Indie et Loire MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2750/31 [Written at the top of the letter in Nan Shepherd’s hand] Streets in old Tours Rue des quatre vents R. de la moquerie R. des ciscaux dires R. de l’hopitalité R. du Petit soleil R. du pol élain R. des Coeur-navé 23 March 1931 Nancy my dear, I’m sorry to hear of your mother’s accident, and hope she is recovering. Its a nasty thing to happen just after flu. We arrived here yesterday, coming by Dunkerque and consequently down a good deal of the old /french/ line, through Hazebrouck, Lens, Béthune, Arras & Albert. Its a marvellous recovery. The towns look raw yet, but they are towns. What little ground is waste is still torn with shellholes, but the winter wheat was springing, the ploughs at work behind the great Flemish horses, and beside Albert, where Notre Dame is upright again on her spire, a man strode sowing with the strong swing of the arm and the cloud of seed that is one of the great human gestures. We’re here in a little square of about the First Empire – sober-grey houses, tall trees, a little garden with a statue and a pièce d’eau the size of

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100   nan shepherd’s correspondence a carpet, complete with gold-fish. Its a jolly old house, with a wide staircase sweeping down in a bold open spiral, high double-leafed grey doors, and in our room, which was once, I think, the salon, a finely-proportioned chimney-piece with what I fancy is the original pier-glass. Its a modest little pension, with a population of clerks & old ladies, and the usual cheery and strenuous servants who ask us politely where we have been today and did we have a nice walk. We have, as a matter of fact, up the river to Marmoutier, where Pope Urban preached the First Crusade & St. Martin taught St. Patrick & St. Ninian. There’s not much of it left, though there’s a big convent – looks about Louis XIV – inside the old ancients, and the Loire & the willows are much as St. Martin saw them – or Julius Caesar. Its a noble river. I love Tours, and above all the Cathedral. It keeps its great West door wide, and as you pass you see at the end of the tall white arches the singing blue and rose of St. Louis high windows behind the altar, and the apse is one of those with ranks of flying buttresses, like Notre Dame, they ‘go up with a song’ – there are trumpets in French Gothic. Damn my deaf lug! Its a very real regret to me in France, because of course it makes me terribly slow in the uptake – cour Jock who can’t read a French newspaper is better than I am, though I can talk fairly well, allowing for a rich Caledonian accent – though Tours must be used to Scots-French! but people are very nice about it – they don’t seem to blame me for it, as English people do, even those who should know better, though naturally its not easy to make them notice that after my fairly fluent and idiomatic questions I can’t hear the reply! But I wish the Latin races were less insensitive to general noises! We’re at a corner & the cars do howl! And the milk comes our way about 4 a.m! I depart to dine. Peace be with you among, as I suppose, the pile of papers. We have had a winter domestic agony, with the British Workmen – London at that – in charge, & are now Very Beautiful with a new wall-paper. I thought you’d relish the nepotic gent, that sort of stuff doesn’t worry me a bit – its too funny. Besides, could the N. S. take kindly to a book that answers that monogamy is a good thing & that being quipped about is unpleasant? Je te le demands un pen! Did Whyte tell you that our correspondence – (I should say peppery rather than bitter myself, but he’s no fightin’ – it was like stealing a baby’s scone) was about you? The Organ of the Scots Renaissance chose to ignore you & I told it very precisely what I thought of it, in that capacity. He’s an ass, anyhow, like most of the elegan. Even Thomson is one in spots, though the rest is sane enough. Well – and so to dinner. Yours. M. Notes your mother’s accident: it is unclear what happened at this time to Jeannie Shepherd. about the First Empire: around 1804–15.

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Pope Urban: Pope Urban II (c. 1035–99). looks about Louis XIV: Louis XIV reigned in France from 1643 until 1715. cour Jock: Jean ‘Jock’ Mackenzie, Agnes Mure’s sister and companion. Tours must be used to Scots-French: Mary, Queen of Scots (1542–87) spent much of her childhood in the châteaux of the Loire valley. the N. S.: the New Statesman, for which Mackenzie regularly reviewed. Je te le demands un pen!: French, ‘I ask you for a pen’. Did Whyte tell you: James Huntington Whyte (1909–62), publisher of the periodical the Modern Scot through which Whyte urged the ideas promoted by Hugh MacDiarmid and others active in the Scottish Renaissance. Even Thomson is one in spots: likely David Cleghorn Thomson (1900–80), writer and journalist.

From: Neil Gunn, to Nan Shepherd Address from: Larachan,| Dochfour Drive,| Inverness. MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 26900, ff. 108–11 29 March 1931 Dear Miss Nan Shepherd, Your letter was more stimulating than any doctor’s potion, and me with ’flu! I have recovered, but still have a memory of an evocative note. You at least saw what I was after, and you know how refreshing it is to find any one who recognises what’s ado. I was amused over your reference to the Whyte encounter. I heard from London that he was inclined to be ‘the dog in the manger to Morning Tide’. Did you see his review with its delightful patronage & innocent arrogance in the Modern Scot? I enjoyed that. The only thing he forgets is that the critic always gives himself away. His review shows that he simply had no idea of what I was trying to do. He represents the undergraduate type of mind to whom words like ‘intellectual’ & ‘continental’ are apocalyptic! It’s a desperate phase while it lasts, but I like to see a young chap go through it. And Whyte is intelligent, and if he develops steadily should be a centre of good in St Andrews. Oh for a few youngsters with money and brains! We might have a merry time. Meantime the North-East pegs away. Here’s Linklater now scooping this poor old Book Society! I had a note from a Glasgow surgeon yesterday in which he mentions Linklater & myself. ‘If only’, he concludes, ‘Nan Shepherd would now come away and give us her best, we could feel that Scottish literature was founded.’ I agree with him, but then we both come from north-east! Which, I suppose, is a sort of roundabout way on my part of wondering what you are at. Not that I am inquisitive so much as anxious!

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102   nan shepherd’s correspondence I have a week’s leave at end of April and may go to Dundee for a day and may come back by Aberdeen. But that is too problematical for any arrangement. I should have enjoyed a talk with you. The last time I saw T. D. Macdonald was in London, after he’d ha/n/ ded his MS. to Porpoise Press. I have actually heard no news of it since, though I know that the publishers were impressed & suggested to him that the MS. could be greatly improved if he altered the last third which from their point of view was inclined, I think, to be a trifle doctrinaire. Between ourselves, I don’t think Macdonald quite liked this! But I believe he did make an effort. What happened thereafter, I don’t know. Anyway, there’s no doubt that the MS. contained some splendid stuff. As Macdonald is at the moment in the Western Isles talking Nationalism & organising for the Party, he should be getting right into the atmosphere. And he is ‘Mad on Gaelic’ & now talks it pretty well. So I have every hope of the West becoming important. There is really a pretty hefty activity going on in many quarters at the moment and I have no doubt of the future (which sounds like C. M. Grieve!) Anyway, I do hope you have something in the offing that faintly satisfies you. I may not say how much I appreciated the delicate insight into ‘Morning Tide’, which comes from your letter like a note of inspiration. Yours very sincerely Neil M Gunn Notes the Whyte encounter: James Huntington Whyte (1909–62), publisher of the periodical the Modern Scot through which Whyte urged the ideas promoted by Hugh MacDiarmid and others active in the Scottish Renaissance. Shepherd mentions meeting Whyte in her letter to Gunn of 15 March 1931 (p. 97). inclined to be ‘the dog in the manger to Morning Tide’: an expression meaning someone who, having no need of something, nonetheless prevents others from enjoying it – in this case, Gunn’s new novel Morning Tide (1931). Did you see his review: Morning Tide was reviewed in the Modern Scot (volume 1, number 4, January 1931, pp. 75–6). Gunn was advised in this review to relate in subsequent novels ‘his whole outlook to his artistic medium’ (p. 76). Oh for a few youngsters with money and brains: Whyte was a young and wealthy American. Here’s Linklater now scooping this poor old Book Society: Eric Linklater (1899– 1974), Scottish poet and novelist, whose third novel, Juan in America, had just been selected as the Book Society Choice for March. This entailed a huge order of the novel from his publishers and significant acclaim. T. D. Macdonald: Thomas Joseph Douglas MacDonald (1906–75), a devoted nationalist who had, for a time, studied Gaelic while at Glasgow University. He was

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about to make his mark as a novelist; the manuscript Gunn mentions was likely that of The Albannach, which would be published in 1932 by John Heritage after a campaign in support by Hugh MacDiarmid. MacDonald studied at Aberdeen Training College under Shepherd between 1923 and 1925. organising for the Party: the National Party of Scotland, founded in 1928. In 1934 it amalgamated with the Scottish Party to form the Scottish National Party.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Neil Gunn Address from: Dunvegan| West Cults| Aberdeen MS: National Library of Scotland, Dep. 209, box 19, folder 7 2 April 1931 Dear Neil Gunn, I hope you’ll arrange that visit to Aberdeen. I should be happy to see you. Come out here if you can – it’s only four miles out and there’s a five or seven minute service of buses. But if that’s impossible there are lots of spots in town where one may talk. – It’s so good to have someone who talks one’s own language. No – I’m not writing just now at all. I’ve gone dumb. It’s partly a profound dissatisfaction with all I’ve hitherto written: more profoundly, a dissatisfaction with my own grip on life and assurance in its fundamentals. I make all sorts of excuses to myself for not going on with the book I began nearly two years ago. I want to write it. I know its people, its place, its theme. But I can’t write it. I think I am afraid. – One reaches (or I do) these dumb places in life. I suppose there’s nothing for it but to go on living. Speech may come. Or it may not. And if it doesn’t I suppose one has just to be content to be dumb. At least not shout for the mere sake of making a noise. I have however been writing a little verse again, which I haven’t done for years. A number of people at various times have wanted me to publish my poems – Marion Angus is anxious that I should; and only last night in the theatre a man I know came to me during an interval and asked when I was to do so. But I haven’t sufficient belief in myself as a poet. Poetry means too much to me – it seems to me to hold in intensest being the very heart of all experience; and though I have now and then glimpsed something of that burning heart of life – have intimations and hauntings of its beauty and strangeness and awe – always when I try to put these things into words they elude me. The result is slight and small. And then I read a thing like Hugh McDiarmid’s ‘You have cannot sing until [deletion] your flight Leaves you no audience but the light’ – and go away humbled and chastened, and shut my lips. Perhaps it is that I can write poetry only in a condition that might be called possession. And though that might be said to be given and not

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104   nan shepherd’s correspondence achieved, yet one must prepare oneself for the possession – it demands a discipline of one’s whole self, an integrity of one’s personality, before ‘whatever powers there be’ can possess and use one’s force. And I think I am too indolent fo nowadays for such discipline. I shrink too from the subsequent exhaustion. Not being physically very strong, I grudge the way that it eats up my vitality. And that is cowardice. Isn’t it a folly to be thus analytic of oneself, instead of running to the great business of creation! It’s Andrea del Sarto’s manner of excuse. He put it on his wife, the skunk, that he couldn’t be one of the great creative artists, but in his heart he knew well enough that it was all because in himself he was second-rate. Do come round by Aberdeen and confirm me in my faith that art matters supremely. I’m going to Braemar and shall be there till term opens on the 22nd. Very sincerely yours Nan Shepherd – Notes And then I read a thing like Hugh McDiarmid’s: the lines are from To Circumjack Cencrastus, or the Curly Snake, a long poem by Hugh MacDiarmid in Scots, published in 1930. Andrea del Sarto’s manner of excuse: Andrea del Sarto (1486–1530), Italian Renaissance painter who featured in a dramatic monologue by Robert Browning (1855) in which he reveals these details of his character.

From: Neil Gunn, to Nan Shepherd Address from: Larachan,| Dochfour Drive,| Inverness. MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 26900, f. 112 15 April 1931 Dear Nan Shepherd, I’ve delayed acknowledging your most interesting letter in the hope that I’d be definite about visiting Aberdeen. I should like a good talk with you, but I’m afraid to get anything said at all would require something more than the lunch hour my wife & I may be in your town – passing through by car. This is disappointing, as I think we might, given an evening, arrive at some reasonable estimate of the importance or value of literature! That two-year old book of yours rather gets me. I could say so much on the issues you raise, for I have always a certain second view from the non-literary angle. For I am not really a literary man. I realise this with striking force when I meet many of my friends (e.g., C. M. Grieve). I play

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a little bit at it, but I laugh a little too. And I think out of the mixture there comes at odd moments a certain gaiety. For I don’t know that one ever wants to have an understanding with anything so much as with life. A certain friendly relationship, mocking occasionally – a certain grimness too for the dumb spot, even the head bloody but unbowed, [deletion] if without the gesture, even if not without the amusing knowledge of it. Which means that I’d be writing rubbish in another minute. Only – that book of yours. Good lord. And your poetry – You make me a little afraid to enter in. Where of course no one can enter in. Which is not what matters. For the within would glow, if only the without could be made to sparkle. With a little belief, even a glass of wine. But I should certainly never be able to make anyone believe that life art mattered supremely. Even if nothing else matters at all – beyond, that is, the sparkle, and, why not? the wine. Which is the proper state of mind for starting a holiday. Well – if you don’t mind, isn’t it? Though would sell his soul for a little gaiety? who, indeed? And when you say that the result of your poetry is ‘slight & small’ you make my head buzz. What I once saw by way of sample had me staggering at a fourth reading. Steady a little, please, and have a thought for the lowly. If by any chance we should be in your town next week, I may try to get in touch, but I cannot give myself much hope. Yours sincerely Neil M Gunn Notes my wife: Daisy Gunn (d. 1963). That two-year old book of yours: The Quarry Wood, published in 1928.

From: Helen Waddell, to Nan Shepherd Address from: 3 [unclear] Terrace| N W S MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 27438, item 10 12 May 1931 My dear Nan Shepherd, Will you forgive me – I have been trying to come at you for days. First, I am terribly sorry to hear of this grim winter. Are you well again? Do remember to be very patient with yourself. Operations are queer things: the body seems to remember long after the mind has forgotten, and it wont hurry back to the old ways all at once.

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106   nan shepherd’s correspondence This stuff is beautiful. I have sometimes wondered to a friend of mine why a countryside like yours, and like my own by the Mourne Mountains, get so inadequately into literature, and why it seems easier to write greatly of the English downs, even of moorland. But these of yours give me that same wild exaltation – beauty and terror. Send all you choose to Constable. As you know, this is a barren world for poets, but Mr. Kyllmann is a great lover of poetry, and he has always felt your power of evoking the spirit of land. I am bewildered with work. It is only after great gaps in time that I get back to Abelard. He is now half finished, and mercifully waiting doesn’t seem to spoil it. Yours very sincerely Helen Waddell Sometimes being ill is good for one’s mind. Did you get anything out of it? Notes Are you well again?: Shepherd had recently had an operation to remove her appendix. Send all you choose to Constable: Constable & Co., where Otto Kyllmann (d. 1958) was a director. Kyllmann was close to Helen Waddell (1889–1965), Irish poet and translator, and Waddell was attempting to find a home for the poetry that would become In the Cairngorms (1934). I get back to Abelard: Waddell’s novel Peter Abelard, which would be published in 1933.

From: Neil Gunn, to Nan Shepherd Address from: Larachan,| Dochfour Drive,| Inverness. MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 26900, ff. 113–14 25 May 1931 My dear Nan Shepherd, It was friendly to meet your note, even if its austere conception of poetry rather frightened me. There are times, I suppose, when even a best-seller is disturbed by a vision of a higher peak than his own. Ah, positively a peak that is Other, with different rock and earth and air. It is not a peak of commerce. May the clouds cover it! An air that is caulder than mou’ can thole. I think I have heard of it possibly in a previous life, many incarnations ago. But not now. How I feel as if I had escaped! Caulder than mou’ can thole. I should think so. Let the clouds roll on. Black & splendid follows, convoluting and amused. No, madam, divil the peak of that sort do I know

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anything of. And I feel glad enough at the escape to present you, were that in a best-seller’s power, with a whole mountain range of ’em. How happy you make me when I think of your bedivilments! Poor girl, it must be hard on you. If only you hadn’t used that ‘calder than mou’ can thole’. That, I suppose, is how the poet ‘comes back’. Well, well, you can leave that shaft of words in me. I would be an ingenuous fellow [deletion] to grudge you so small, if lingering, a triumph. Indeed I would almost tear myself to a few of your own. But you mightn’t care to send me your poems. I wouldn’t blame you. I would probably suggest where you would get them printed! In fact I should probably like to dispose of a few of them here & there. Even without a commission – though that is going pretty far. Uhm. And it leaves (somewhere round about the base of that accursed peak of yours) an ultimate fantastic hope that there are people who might not care about printing their poems. But no – that would be a secret condition of the mind in joy that anyone would tell you requires the attentions of a psychoanalyst. So it would. I know. We must ‘tell the world’. And then, the personal glory. So that I begin to become vague. Which is but the cloud enveloping the peak. Leaving the common earth of desire – at least the desire to see your poetry! How misty all this – over against that peak. But then even in the shape of an attentive form you can see a form that is other. I have always had an instinctive feeling that one should pity the poets. It’s the only sort of sublime godliness left to the common man. Except in the case of Grieve, who fights for recognition. So that your article on Grieve & Burns would be profoundly interesting – and Grieve would thank you. How better could I put it? Unless your passionate poetry (cald cald as you please) has given way to the novel. I should be glad to hear that. (Though maybe not cald seven incarnations ago). And you could always stick a peak where a wood should be. And a snowwreath for a quarry. I might even make further suggestions. But already the conjuring is so cold that I shiver. For your peaks come into the landscape of your novel. And what is a novel anyway but a piece of mechanism – with indifferent headlights? [deletion] True, cars have their uses, as even you might maintain – but never maintain on the mountains. And so we mix our metaphors & [deletion] engage the gears. It has been pleasant & friendly again. Goodbye. Neil Gunn. Notes your note: likely a reference to Shepherd’s letter of 2 April 1931. your article on Grieve & Burns: this article did not materialise, but one on Hugh MacDiarmid did in 1938, and was published in the Aberdeen University Review in November that year. caulder than mou’ can thole: from Poem XVIII of In the Cairngorms (1934).

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From: Marion Angus, to Nan Shepherd Address from: Cranford| Lasswade| Midlothian MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 3036/5 22 June [1931] My dear Nan Shepherd, You will see that like a pigeon with a broken wing I have perched here half-heartedly waiting in a hopeless kind of way for what will happen next – From here I can go to see my sister easily or rather I can go & come back in a day. I feel as tho’ I had lost every thing here & some friends & background & all my small (yet to me precious) springs of song. Well – One must just go on. I have many & many a time read your ‘Hill Burns’ – It brings back to me both a kind of passion & longing to hear & see & live among them. It does much more. It shows me what miracles can be attained by words. I am carried away by the beauty of the thing which your spirit & the spirit of peace between you have concerned – It has something of both – it is something quite new also – strange – lovely – Nothing so vivid so impetuous yet so restrained could I ever by any possibility attain to! I am lost in confused wonder You must publish very soon that I may not be kept waiting long (Oh selfish wish) for your gathered poems. You will be off to the West Highlands soon for surroundings for your own peculiar form of poetry. Nothing here of thrill or the real joy of the moorlands. Flat roads with hedgerows mining villages, ugly little towns. Only Edinburgh in the distance gives the touch of romance. The friends I am with, nice people – comfortable – kindly but not what I call sympathetic simply are deaf, dumb & blind to anything – the shape of poetry altho’ by no means stupid people. Queer isn’t it? And you see a book of verse by Soutar published recently. I thought it good – Your C. M. Grieve I had some conversation with – Glasgow recently. He is the most delightful person to meet, sincere, charming & original. On hearing him speak I was disappointed – He becomes suddenly bitter – His thoughts are, tho brilliant, confused, & he somehow loses his power to convince, but I am possibly no judge & I with you admire his passion for a cause! It was most dear & beneficent of you to give me some account of Cults people & Aberdeen friends. Mr Medd occasionally writes to me. I am glad that after so long his enthusiasm & perseverance are being recognised & the Shakespeare Society a part of the life of the town. He is one of the most loveable of men – Of course you know him & understand him better than many would.

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I wish thee some sunshine now so that Mrs Shepherd might get the benefit of it. It is cold & grey still here. In Greenock & rained incessantly for 3 weeks My love & ‘following’ thoughts to you May I keep ‘The Hill Burns’ Yours ever affectionately Marion Angus I expect to be here for some time so do come if you are near I could meet you in Edinburgh. Notes your ‘Hill Burns’: Shepherd’s poem ‘The Hill Burns’ that would be published as part of In the Cairngorms in 1934. Angus was a major encourager of Shepherd in publishing her verse. From here I can go to see my sister easily: Marion Angus’s sister Ethel, who was resident in Glasgow Royal Asylum at Gartnavel. a book of verse by Soutar published recently: Conflict (London: Chapman and Hall, 1931) by William Soutar (1898–1943). Your C. M. Grieve: Shepherd was a devoted lover of Grieve’s work, published under his pseudonym Hugh MacDiarmid. you to give me some account of Cults people & Aberdeen friends: until the sudden decline in her sister Ethel’s mental health, Marion Angus had resided with her in Cults, Aberdeen, near Shepherd’s family. Mr Medd occasionally writes to me: R. T. Medd (1889–1973), President of the Aberdeen branch of the British Empire Shakespeare Association. Mrs Shepherd: Nan’s mother, Jeannie.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Neil M. Gunn Address from: Dunvegan| West Cults| Aberdeen MS: National Library of Scotland, Dep. 209, box 19, folder 7 5 July 1931 My dear Best-Seller, If you had faith like unto a grain of mustard seed, you would say unto this mountain, Remove, and it would remove into the farthest depths of the sea. – But even there, if you wanted to visit it, you would have to struggle through an unfamiliar medium, learn to breathe in the green underocean reaches – or if a small peak of the mountain thrust up through the

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110   nan shepherd’s correspondence waters, even then it would be an Island, and Islands are aloof, and alien, and dangerous, and cut you off from men – So perhaps, removed or not removed, the mountain is best left to its own icy devices, its shrill winds and cornices of snow. Luckily I don’t live there much of the time. This note is just to say that I am expecting to spend the night of Wednesday, 29th. July, in Inverness, on my way to Port of Ness and Uig, which lies East of the Sun and West of the Moon. If you are at home then, will Mrs. Gunn allow to me to call in the evening? Yours ever sincerely Nan Shepherd – Notes If you had faith like unto a grain of mustard seed: from the Bible, Matthew 17:20. Mrs. Gunn: Daisy Gunn (d. 1963).

From: Neil Gunn, to Nan Shepherd Address from: Larachan,| Dochfour Drive,| Inverness. MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 26900, f. 115 14 September 1931 To the Unknown Poet, Thinking that you had forgotten you’d said you might call in July. Couldn’t you arrange to spend as much as possible of the 29th evening with us? I’ll then be prepared to study your map of mountains, woods, & even islands in the sea. We have of course a few modest islands & woods of our own in this neighbourhood. But not the snows of Braemar or of yesteryear. And all apart from such poignant interiority, there isn’t the energy here even to write a novel. Existence could hardly be pitched lower than that, not even when it attains pure sunlight. But perhaps you have new ideas, and with your profound belief in – what was it? – ah yes, Art – we may be helped to recovery by & bye. How I, with such naturalness, look forward to it! And my wife will be delighted to meet you. If you were in good enough time I might run you out to Culloden to let you see the sun set beyond the hills of Ross. Anything – for another poem! Yours Neil Gunn

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From: Nan Shepherd, to Neil M. Gunn Address from: Dunvegan| West Cults| Aberdeen MS: National Library of Scotland, Dep. 209, box 19, folder 7 15 September 1931 Neil my friend, I said you could see these. So see. Being – as you are now well convinced – a thoroughly lazy one, I send you only such as happen to be already typed. In duplicate, that is. There are about as many more. I’ve done nothing further with the damnable bits of paper – except to show them to the two persons who will receive their dedication when they appear. Who say: ‘For God’s sake get them published.’ Presenting a dedication without making any effort towards publication is rather like naming a child /buying the pram/ before it /the child/ is conceived, don’t you think. I liked The Dead Seaman very much. I hadn’t read it when I saw you but did so in the Isle of the Blessed that lies in the Western Ocean. There aren’t minds there, but senses. The intellect is just in its place, and the Blessed (as the Blessed always must /be/) are alive in their blood and their muscles and their tingling skin and the whole complex network of their nerves. Eyes and ears and noses and fingers and limbs – aren’t they all a happy possession? And just the sense of life that isn’t any of these but something beyond and including them all [squiggly line] And to think that persons actually sit down after being alive like that and attempt to write novels! Persons should be flayed alive. I’m going to run away from the novel yet once again before winter – end of next week – for another blessed mountain week. Aviemore this time. Perhaps I might even make more poetry, who knows. At any rate I shall see the Cairngorms – and the precipices – and the cold cold snows. Nan. Blackbird in Snow. O that early morning fluting,     Rising tranquil through the snow! Tranquil, did I say? That rapture?     Those ecstatic thrills? – Ah, no. All too short and too uncertain     Is the blackbird’s time of song. A few brief months to sing in, out of    Years as brief is /are/ not so long

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112   nan shepherd’s correspondence Each bird in turn may learn the music     That has no measurement in time, But whoso hears one note has hearkened     Already an eternal chime. The blackbird’s song with love is shaken,     And madness of approaching doom, Delirious desire to capture All joyance /passion/ in a little room. And yet, that note! There was no passion.     Too clear it welled, too absolute. No bird of earth, that soon must perish,     Sounded that wise and lonely flute. Rather, it seemed, the silver singing     Echoed, – remote, contained, and pure – From some keen order of existence     Whereof we are but rarely sure; Unseen, unheard, yet all beside us,     And co-existent with our own, That shines through ours at quickened moments     Like [deletion] light through lovely forms of stone, Making the marble goddess tremble,    Moving and /All soft and/ luminous, and live /and move/ With an intenser life than even    The maker of her form could give /Her rapt creator knew to give./ So sometimes through our common living /being/     That keener mode of life may shine, And eye may see, and ear may hearken     In mortal forms an air divine. Unprophecied, today, tomorrow,     The things I touch, the things I see, In flame of that fierce life supernal     Burn to their own identity. It is, it is, the blackbird singing!     The beat of time is in the note. Yet its own infinite arises     From that small perishable throat. Braemar Easter 1931

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Notes the two persons who will receive their dedication when they appear: Betty (1891– 1992) and John Macmurray (1891–1976), Shepherd’s long-standing friends. I liked The Dead Seaman very much: Gunn’s story, published in the Scots Magazine in 1931. the Isle of the Blessed: Lewis and Harris, which Shepherd visited in June 1931. She recounted some of her adventures later in a letter to Lyn Irvine, dated 18 January 1961, pp. 240–1 when Irvine was contemplating a trip to the Western Isles. Here Shepherd plays with the classical idea of mysterious islands in the Atlantic where the heroes of Greek mythology supposedly lived, suggesting these islands might in fact be Harris and Lewis. I’m going to run away from the novel: a reference to A Pass in the Grampians, which would be published in 1933. Blackbird in Snow.: the poem would be published in In the Cairngorms in 1934. It was composed in April 1931.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Neil M. Gunn Address from: Dunvegan,| West Cults,| Aberdeen. MS: National Library of Scotland, Dep. 209, box 19, folder 7 26 March 1932 Dear Neil Gunn, The other day I was very angry with you. For I had taken home The Lost Glen weeks ago and deliberately refused myself the reading, because I was trying to write something of my own, and to let myself go to another kind of work while I’m doing that is fatal. And proved so! Because one day I couldn’t resist any longer, and read. And then, in the black swirl and air of that first storm – when Ewan’s father is drowned – how could I write any more? This is a much bigger thing than Morning Tide – (I told you once that I didn’t read it in the magazine – except for one instalment – so I come to it as to something fresh.) It’s – oh, how can I say all the things it is! The sea and storm descriptions of course are understood. So too that intimate sense of family love which always gives me pleasure in your books. Ewan’s delight in his father – that’s very fine. But endlessly amazing is the way you realize the whole. I see, hear, smell, know, every hole and corner and air and angle of your created world. Ewan’s mother – how astounding a figure. Half a dozen touches and there she is, solidly alive. Generating emotion and wonder. I think she is a triumph. And the inner core of integrity in Ewan is finely rendered. Progressively rendered, so that one becomes surer and surer of his essential nature and selfhood. While your passionate indignation burns terribly in places.

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114   nan shepherd’s correspondence What a concentration of bitterness in that ‘gone native’, of Clare. The bitterest touch in the book. And then – how much I love them – those asides, like winds blowing out of another dimension, those undulating words and phrases in which you can express so much of what mustn’t be expressed else its essential nature must perish. In which you put into words the dark /ultimate/ wordless darkness in which the spirit sinks and sinks to recreate itself. So few people have put it in words. Cowper Powys in his Defence of Sensuality has done it, astonishingly. And you do it, again and again, in this book. Things like that ‘creating and blotting out and creating, as if all the time its intense heart lay coiled like a sea [deletion] serpent in deepest ocean’ – ‘enveloping, all-pervasive, was the sense of strangeness, as of things under a wild spell; under, say, the crying of wild geese and wild swans’ – and ‘so [blot] that the freed mind eyes might look on the silver and golden apples in their purity, and then look downwards on the ancient necromantic earth, look long and nakedly –’ all of that paragraph. These things are not only lovely. They create the mood they seek to embody. They are themselves a spell, potent with movement, rhythm, sound, suggestiveness. – I hope you don’t mind – I’m going to talk about you to a Literary Society. (Not, I trust, in the spirit of the Grand Lady of Scottish Literature.) At Peterhead. They’ve a very live Society there – I’ve talked to them twice before and they make a rare audience. When their request came for next winter, I’d just been reading that first storm scene. And my mind was puzzling out something. The cruelty of the sea – do you remember the passage in The Mirror of the Sea where Conrad tells how he first became vitally aware of the unfathomable cruelty of the sea? When they came, on a day of ‘enchanting peace’ on a ‘water-logged derelict’ which yet contained seven men pumping for very life. And it seemed to me that you too saw the sea as ‘unfathomably cruel’. And I wondered whether, with you as with Conrad, there is not too the sense of an unappeasable cruelty at the very heart of life. I’m not sure – perhaps I misread you. But – as though one might find a satisfying bliss in the urgent natural loveable things, in sun and wind and the swift straight satisfying of instincts; and always life intervenes – because man himself has created a life too complex for the satisfying bliss to be possible. And yet he can’t – mustn’t – deny the conquests of his own mind. So comes the inevitable clash and the inevitable suffering. I don’t know at all that that is your own reading of the cruelty you reveal in so many of your stories. But the cruelty is there. It’s in Conrad too. I must think out its implications – and what relation this basic sense of life has to the sense of the elemental sea – before November. (The talk by the way is to be called Sea Stories: Conrad – Tomlinson – Neil Gunn. – Do you remember Tomlinson’s appalling pictures of the wrecked men in an open boat in Gallion’s Reach?) – Blake is to do my poems in a Faber and Faber halfcrown edition. Like that boy Auden’s (he, in passing deaves Marion Angus by arriving regularly with his mss. and reading them aloud to her – a boy in Aberdeen used

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to do the same with his plays.) Blake asked, as you predicted, for a novel. I said, Second refusal only. But if you like I’ll guarantee the ‘inevitable’ loss. On which understanding we proceed – I’m to see him next week or the one after in London. A nice sophisticated fortnight with theatres and new frocks to purge me of the lust for ice-cold peaks. May I send my remembrances to Mrs. Gunn? Mother says: we’ll be glad to see you again if you pass our way. Yours, Nan. Notes The Lost Glen: Gunn’s novel, just published. Morning Tide: Gunn’s novel, published in 1930. It first appeared in serial form in the Scots Magazine. that ‘gone native’, of Clare. The bitterest touch in the book: the dreadful crisis of The Lost Glen hangs on the class ‘betrayal’ committed by Clare Marlowe with the novel’s protagonist, Ewan MacLeod. Clare’s uncle, a wealthy former soldier, vows she ‘could not “go native”’ and sets out to shame his niece and destroy Ewan. The hypocrisy of his concern about the upper classes degrading themselves with the local inhabitants – he attempts to rape Ewan’s sweetheart, Mary – drives the bitterness of the novel’s end. Cowper Powys in his Defence of Sensuality: John Cowper Powys (1872–1963), whose book In Defence of Sensuality was published by Faber and Faber in 1930. The Mirror of the Sea: by Joseph Conrad (1857–1924), published in 1906. Tomlinson: H. M. Tomlinson (1873–1958), author of Gallion’s Reach, published by Harper & Bros in 1927. Blake is to do my poems: George Blake (1893–1961), journalist, editor and director of Faber and Faber. that boy Auden’s: W. H. Auden (1907–73), who was working as a schoolmaster in Helensburgh at this time. May I send my remembrances to Mrs. Gunn?: Daisy Gunn (d. 1963).

From: Agnes Mure Mackenzie, to Nan Shepherd No address MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2750/32 [No date, September 1932] Nancy my dear, I am glad you enjoyed Eneas. /‘Between Sun and Moon’/ You may be delected to know that the same post which brought your

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116   nan shepherd’s correspondence equation of him with A. M. McK. brought a cutting describing him as ‘a kind of peacock & eagle’! A very fearful wild-fowl, though I should have said something nearer the poultry-yard with a bit of bantam. I hope Aviemore obliged with a decent climate. You seem to be snowballing in Aberdeen, but we have been hanging round limply in cotton vests. Not a very high temperature, but very like a greenhouse. After a vile weekend (plus the second series of Forward Points in fifteen days!) its a lovely September day. I’m sorry the *Pig /[written sideways] ‘A Pass in the Grampians’/ is held up. But its as well to find out that sort of thing before. Good luck to its mending. I am elaborately piecing at Sc. Literature, a good deal of new stuff having fallen into my hands. Cape has had it for over six weeks now! (the other copy.) Its not good, but it is so much better than Miller, or Henderson or Gregory Smith that I have almost a sort of guilty feeling at my own impertinence! But they really are awful! I ain’t no scholard, but at least I’ve some notion of what criticism is, the more I go for the stuff, the more this handling of it makes my hair rise. And they all repeat the beautiful old chestnut about Barbours confusion of Bruce with his grandfather – which he never made! Barbour, as a matter of fact, is a very much under-rated person, as I’ve tried to show. Well – ca va, & I after it, faint but pursuing Gregory & Co with my little hatchet. Gosh, but I am tired, & the holiday I was hoping for fades for ever & for ever as I move. Two commissioned articles – one a review of 200 of Scotts letters, one book of 11 & one of 18 articles on him by about 20 different people, a perfectly foul job to do in 1500 words against time, for the Centenary Listener. Find the Art. Ed. is Janet Adam Smith, and am pleasantly surprised to find I like her. Her sisters make my flesh creep, but I lunched with her & we had a very pleasant crack (and Trinité memisère & Barsac – the Listeners entertainment fund is well provided!) and found a number of likes & dislikes in common. Gladys is still here, & I think the treatment is doing her good. I do wish she could get rid of that perpetual strain. Jessie Aberdein & her mother (remember Hermia?) have just arrived – J. is Headmistress of a very posh girls school quite near. They’re charming people. I’m glad you thought the Trévandres came off. I had a tough time with them, as they had to come through Eneas, who didn’t know what he was seeing. The Chapel episode is an actual one of my own, though the ‘Madame’ was an elderly priest & a complete stranger to me. I’ve always been sure he was a saint, though I never ever saw his face till he went, & then a bare glimpse. Nicolas somehow seems a portrait of an actual person, but I can’t spot the original! I’ve probably sat opposite him in a French train – he carries a faint aura of horizon-blue, and I’ve a queer tail-of-my-eye impression of him holding a door for me, but have never got it placed. The press varies from comprehending & enthusiastic (including Punch & Linklater! – Punch got the religious point, L. at least the aesthetic in a most generous crit.) to rather praised ⸫ [therefore] I wouldn’t be properly

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Jacobite à la D. K. Glasgow & Dundee both describe Madame as having religious mania. Glasgow also thinks it would be nice if I would write a novel about Scotland. Its the rather surprising people who like it as a rule – Naomi Mitchison for another. She stuck to the history & the prose style, but her praise of both is worth having, & she didn’t crab the rest. I was surprised & pleased for more than a good review – met her once & thought it was plain she did not like me. I wish this flesh let floor lights through the chinks which time hath made. I hope your states are firm, anyhow. Good luck to Pig & Session. Yours. M. Between Peacock & Eagle – à la moderne. Notes I am glad you enjoyed Eneas. /‘Between Sun and Moon’/: Mackenzie’s novel Between Sun and Moon, published in 1932. The annotation is in Nan Shepherd’s hand. Eneas is the protagonist of the novel. brought a cutting describing him as ‘a kind of peacock & eagle’: a reference to the review in The Scotsman of Between Sun and Moon where the reviewer describes Eneas thus: ‘He is at once cultured and savage, a strange admixture of the peacock and the eagle’ (1 September 1932, p. 2). I am elaborately piecing at Sc. Literature: An Historical Survey of Scottish Literature to 1714, which would be published in 1933. it is so much better than Miller, or Henderson or Gregory Smith: likely Hugh Miller (1802–56), geologist and folklorist; Thomas Finlayson Henderson (1844– 1923), Scottish historian and poetry scholar; George Gregory Smith (1865–1932), literary scholar. All three men had been involved in attempts to recover Scottish literary history. Barbours confusion of Bruce with his grandfather: a reference to John Barbour’s (c. 1325–95) poem The Brus (c. 1375), one of the foundational narrative poems in Scottish history. one a review of 200 of Scotts letters: 1932 saw the centenary of Scott’s death, an event marked by an outpouring of scholarly work including a major edition of Scott’s letters by Mackenzie’s former professor at Aberdeen Herbert Grierson (1866–1960). Find the Art. Ed. is Janet Adam Smith: Janet Adam Smith (1905–99), a keen climber and a literary figure of stature in London and in Scotland. She enjoyed a significant public profile as an author, critic and reviewer, and became assistant editor of The Listener in 1930, which she turned into a very influential venue for reviewing the best Scottish literature. Her sisters make my flesh creep: Janet Adam Smith had younger and older sisters, including Kathleen Buchanan Thomson (1900–41) and Margaret Buchanan Clarke (1910–2000).

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118   nan shepherd’s correspondence Trinité memisère & Barsac – the Listeners entertainment fund is well provided!: Mackenzie is talking here of wines, one of which she has perhaps misheard: Trinité Manissy and the sweet dessert wine Barsac. Gladys is still here: Gladys Muriel Mitchell (b. 1896), Mackenzie’s friend from their Aberdeen days. Jessie Aberdein & her mother: likely Jessie Aberdein (b. 1878) and her mother, Euphemia (b. 1853). I’m glad you thought the Trévandres came off: important characters in Mackenzie’s novel Between Sun and Moon. The protagonist, Eneas, is drawn to Nicolas de Trévandre, and becomes enmeshed in his family. including Punch & Linklater!: Punch Magazine, a humorous comic, published a review of Between Sun and Moon on 31 August 1932. The reviewer praised the work as ‘AGNES MURE MACKENZIE’S finest novel’ (p. 250). Eric Linklater (1899–1974), Scottish poet and novelist. It has not been possible to identify Linklater’s review. Jacobite à la D. K.: a reference to Dorothy Kathleen Broster (1877–1950), novelist, whose ‘Jacobite trilogy’ of novels, published between 1925 and 1929, proved extremely successful. Mackenzie’s central character in Between Sun and Moon is a Jacobite on the run after the ’45. Naomi Mitchison for another: Scottish novelist and historical writer Naomi Mitchison (1897–1999), whose attitude to sex and sexuality in literature, among other things, differed significantly from Mackenzie’s. Good luck to Pig & Session: a reference to Shepherd’s novel-in-progress, A Pass in the Grampians, and the new teaching term at Aberdeen Training College. Between Peacock & Eagle: a reference to the review in The Scotsman of Between Sun and Moon (1 September 1932, p. 2).

From: Agnes Mure Mackenzie, to Nan Shepherd No address MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2750/33 [No date, October 1932] Nancy my child, you seem to have been going it, and then some, and a bit. Your literary tour of North Britain – the eighteenth-centuryism is intentional – sounds jee-oyful, and I gather the vehicle wasn’t too far off a po-etay. Ian McP. /Ian McPherson/ sounds more entertaining to meet than to read – his book was near-literature of a kind with which, as a poor dime of a publisher’s hack, I am tolerably starved over when its done better. But his case sounds entertaining. And I felt that C. M. G. /Hugh McDiarmid/ was probably the mildest of men in a state of domestication.

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I’m glad you are still extant at the T. C. both for your sake and its. And incidentally that there’s a smaller herd o’Shelts at A. U. We’ve just been at Edward’s for the weekend, & got divine October weather, with a kingfisher in sunlight as bonus. But weekends are a bad thing. I want a month. I’ve been intending a week’s holiday for some weeks, and haven’t got it yet, & I do-o-o want a week in bed. I ought to be reviewing now & its time I began that treble-damned novel, but I’ve been much too popular lately with the Powers of Fleet St. & I’m not turning down any work, cos Ewan is sure to be a wash-out in sales (he has had an excellent press, but the only use that is is to let editors & such-like great oneyers hear of one.) I’ll join the P. E. N. with pleasure IF you can render a reason why I should. (a) my joining wouldn’t help the P. E. N. ’cos though Eneas’s press suggests that I have a reputation of sorts by now, its a London one. In fact, you can buy my stuff more easily in Paris than in Edinburgh. (b) and more important, how does the P. E. N. help Scots letters? No doubt it helps amateurs to feel they are WRITERS, and those professionals that like it to play Triton to admiring minnows. But – see enclosed cutting – I’m not sure that either is going to help letters much. I feel I can do more, in my degree, by my pen than either my tongue or my stomach. And one doesn’t write novels at a public meeting, in spite of Gummere’s writing on the ballad. A league of readers – with some critics instilt – would be more to the point. The Little Theatre is a sounder notion. I feel a little inclined to help that, as the Aberdeen man did when they touched him for contributions to an orphanage. He sent two orphans, (the story is D. K.’s) /Broster’s/. I could purchase ’em a brace of plays, & I’m half inclined to, but unfortunately the only good one is expensive to produce, & wants good production. Sc. Lit. is still seeking a home. I tried Carnegie for a grant, but got turned down by return of post, without unnecessary expense of either civility or grammar. That’s thrice, by the way! And when I consider how that Trust is spent – or on whom – I feel mildly annoyed. Still, they’d probably have gone up in smoke when they saw it. I’m driven to the flippers of the Porp. No choice of mine, but I don’t want to waste nine months hard work & a damnable lot of continual wear & tear. I find Scots history a bit of a strain on the nervous system. We do seem to have a curse on us as a nation. I wonder why? We’ve so many and such vital good qualities, and seem to make so bitterly little of them. And yet no country has been more loved. I wonder if we shall ever work out our doom? I can see small help of it, for though we are possibly recovering, Europe grows more & more sick, & between America & Russia I think we are heading for another Sixth Century. Thank God I have no children. Well: I won’t be the first Scot, at least, to go on fighting for a lost cause! Its a national habit. But a chilly one. However, laissez-faire is worse, I suppose. And I’ve always stuck obstinately to a rather thin hope that my Times work might be some use. I’ve stood a good deal of snubs & hard

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120   nan shepherd’s correspondence grind rather than chuck it, as I probably would have done, cash & all, for I’m never sure how far I can venture & I’ve left too many things on my ear by this time to feel safe in any job. In fact, I am forty-one. And behaving as such. It’s the privilege of unsuccessful middle-age to be entitled. I’m not minding much myself – I have as much reputation as I deserve, & possibly a bit over, & so far I’ve made enough to live on with a scramble. Its the damned sense of effecting nothing. The Boyg, in fact. And of fighting alone. The few people I know who care for what I care most for so generally disapprove, with vigour, of what I do to help that I’ve no faith in – it oscillates between disbelief in myself & disbelief in them & a more general helplessness. However, in this last year or two one or two of them do seem inclined to recognise my belligerent status, & I’m almost tearfully grateful. I feel rather like a spy who has been allowed to enlist in the regulars. It has done my morale a lot of good. Only it comes a bit late for me, for I grow less concerned to arrive and more to help what I can’t but believe is past helping. And quite aware of another danger there, for no art is worth much that’s deliberately part of a ‘movement’, or exists as anything but pure creation. If I let myself become any sort of ––––ist quà novelist, such small mint as I have will go phut – though I daresay my sales would be better! And with my damned Scots argumentativeness, it would be fatally easy to write a teaching-roman. Well well, this ain’t profitable. And I’m dining out, & its a perfectly filthy night, & all my back is stuck together. The rheumatics have caught me up at last. Forty-one! ‘Mean age, ugly age.’ I like my new hat, all the same! Its Viennese, & slightly exhilarating. And after all, though I am an ugly devil, my face is only a small part of my surface, & my new coat is also decorative. Which is also good for morale. I must go & wash. Wowl! Want to go to BED. Good luck to the session. Yours. M. Notes Ian McP: Ian Macpherson (1905–44), whose first novel, Shepherd’s Calendar, had been published in 1931. We’ve just been at Edward’s: Edward Briggs Drake Mackenzie (1901–43) was Mackenzie’s brother, whom she would have visited with her sister and companion, Jean. that treble-damned novel: likely Mackenzie’s novel Single Combat, which would be published in 1934. Eneas is sure to be a wash-out in sales: Mackenzie’s recent novel, Between Sun and Moon, published in 1932. Eneas is the protagonist of the novel. I’ll join the P. E. N.: Shepherd had been closely involved with the foundation of Scottish PEN, a branch of International PEN, which occurred in 1927, and both

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Shepherd and Mackenzie were close friends with many founder members, such as Herbert Grierson, Neil Gunn and Hugh MacDiarmid. The founding of Scottish PEN was a significant moment in the recognition of Scottish literature as belonging to a separate and significant tradition. Eneas’s press: Mackenzie’s novel was well received, but was more frequently reviewed in the London papers than the Scottish. in spite of Gummere’s writing on the ballad: Francis Barton Gummere (1855– 1919), folklorist and scholar, who published The Popular Ballad in 1907. The Little Theatre is a sounder notion: possibly His Majesty’s Theatre, Aberdeen, which had recently been sold after the death of its proprietor. D. K.’s: Dorothy Kathleen Broster (1877–1950), novelist. Sc. Lit. is still seeking a home: An Historical Survey of Scottish Literature to 1714, which would be published in 1933. It marked a significant shift in Mackenzie’s literary career, and her literary fortunes. I tried Carnegie for a grant: The Carnegie Trust for the Universities of Scotland, which had been founded in 1901 by a large donation from American philanthropist Andrew Carnegie. Much of its early work was dedicated to relieving university students in Scotland of tuition fees, though as the twentieth century progressed it moved into supporting research and broader intellectual activities. I’m driven to the flippers of the Porp: the Porpoise Press, the Edinburgh-based press connected to Mackenzie’s publishers via a shared director, Charles Seddon Evans (1883–1944).

From: Agnes Mure Mackenzie, to Nan Shepherd No address MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2750/34 [No date, November 1932] Nancy my dear, many thanks for the Highland cross, which is a bonny thing. Do you know where it came from? Thanks also for the literature, especially Lesley Storm being literary. I’m surprised to find myself translated to the Nor’ East – like Sir Thomas More to the 1590’s . . . and the notion of Dunbar as inarticulate reads refreshingly his remarks to Kennedy. In fact, I never felt less Lowland. I did lecture last night to the Reviews of Rabbie, rows and rows & rows of Bailie Nicol Jarvie et Madame avec Bulloch, damn his soul. Told them I was witty, so thought I’d better let fly a few mild [deletion] flips. And I did & they were flops and then some. I thought of Sidney Smith & the surgical operation, and Rab’s ghost sat on the picture-rail & surveyed his adorers & gave me a very large & juicy wish & I nearly giggled in the middle of my most improving piece of uplift. Talk of compearing afore the Session – it was worse than a Wee Free Commission in Auchterarder. Before

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122   nan shepherd’s correspondence I get to ninth & lastly, I nearly gie’d a muckle Hieland yell And at them wi’ the – water carafe which was a good hefty one. I heard D. telling ’em it had been a brilliant paper, & I hope they took his word for it. I have in a moment of mental defect allowed myself to be let in for Braw health at a Caledonian Assoct. in Derbyshire (!) & I’m thinking about it. But anyhow it won’t be on cold water. And to judge by foreshadowings it mayn’t be at all, speakers being under the table by The King. It strikes me that I’ll need to be pretty drunk! I’m glad to hear of the Piglet. Good luck to it. Its a bit late I fear, to discuss its clothes, but if you can improve Constable’s taste in binding cloth I’ll be obliged to you myself. S & M looks like a [******] with scarlet fever. The King’s news is exciting. I hope Strachan succeeds in surviving J. H. or will he do it & leave a note for the date? Does said J. H. appear as Alcibiades? – not Euripides, we may assume, open spaces – losh! If they make a by-pass of the Black Top Road – not that I’m likely to want it again myself, but my ghost may. And will probably have to gibber from a pylon. I’m not loving my country much just now – had too much trifling fiction all would-be-literary and quarter-baked nationalism of late. Yet, I did review Scotland in Quest of its Wits – was it? And quoted Naomi M. with joy, I being one of the people she had cited! I don’t suppose Henderson loves me with passion. The lowland attitude to the Highlands is precisely that of England to Scotland, & you can work that out for yourself. I’m tired & out of temper. I can’t begin a book. Scotland scunners me. I won’t write about England, & I can’t think of ag. that fits into France. And I can, & do, think of next year’s rent. This term has had a lot of outside work, so I’m not feeling the draught yet, though l’affaire Squire was a damned nuisance, though the trial was funny. S. turned up breathing fire with a Buzfuz Counsel & 14 witnesses & their sisters & their cousins & their aunts. I by my lane bar a nice pink young advocate AND a large wad of S’s letters to the Society. By the mercy of heaven this winter hat really does improve in nature. We took four hours & I fell in love with the Judge (who in his early days defended Crippen.) The said Judge said I behaved reasonably (Jock hasn’t heard the last of that) and gave Squire a really masterly wigging in the best industry-room tradition, and then did just what the S. A. had already proposed – split the difference. And S. of course has a hefty slab of costs. I was sorry for Squire before it was over: I could see the poor divil’s hands shaking on the ledge of the box. I’d had the gump to keep mine still & waggle a foot, which nobody could see! But a lawsuit you can’t hear is a bit of a strain. I got the juicy bits from my counsel later, but of course I couldn’t hear a word while it lasted. Giving evidence was a foul job. I could hear the questions to myself, but every time Bar & Bench had a dog-fight I lost them. So when I was cross-examined the only thing I could do was to look innocent and keep bleating the bit of evidence that was most inconvenient for Squire, whether it was relevant or not. By the time I’d wailed for the fourth time that I couldn’t reconcile two superbly contradictory statements of Squires

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and would they please explain, because I didn’t understand, his counsel had had about enough of me! It was a glorious victoree – I wish you’d seen the Judge quoting Squires letters on the legal position. I was glad I hadn’t written ’em! But the sequelae are nasty. S’s pals in the editorial world have been reporting the case with omissions that make it just not libellous, but equally effective. The Soc’s lawyers wrote to the offending papers, & the letters were acknowledged but not published. The editor of one was in Court to my knowledge & heard all the evidence, too. By the way the Weekend – one of them – has just had to eat about a yard of leek & pay heavy damages for a very gross & wanton libel. Two of the others were the Morning Post & the Daily Herald. The organ of Trade Union Principles carefully kept out all mention of the Society of Authors! Not a savoury business. Its rather got on my nerves. I’m so sorry about the books. I’ve been clear imbecile [deletion] for the last month or two, emerging at intervals to write reviews. In fact, I’m pretty well done to the world, & the Squire affair put the lid on. Mother is coming up for a fortnight & Edward & his wife for a long weekend. I’m very fond of them all, but I’m wondering exactly how hard one slaps a bobby’s face to get fourteen days. Scots Lit has had seven rejections so far. Carnegie Trust, without reading it, says it isn’t Scots enough. Two English publishers decline to read it & a third having read it, bids we take it to the Oxford University Press – advice in wh. one of the former concerns, N. B. they don’t suggest a Scots firm. One Scots publisher declines to read it. One is enthusiastic but penniless. One – a large printer & binder, too – says there isn’t enough public for it to be worth the risk. It is now chez an English firm of Scots origin, which seems to be the best bet. I didn’t ask them if they’d read it. So I’m – not hoping very much, especially after seeing the London Burns Club. There be thy priests, O Israel – or J. H. Whyte, whose hair I’ve just combed. I hope he appreciated John Gibb! I knew Richmond wouldn’t see the point, but Whyte ought to! Well well. When I do write you a letter its a letter. If not very cheerful. May the Pig curl its tail. Whats its official name & date of birth & I’ll spread the good news to any journalists I can lay hands on. N. B. the Glasgow Bulletin last week announced Sun & thorn as forthcoming. And it had nearly its own bulk in press cuttings! And the same organ announced the Burns Club lecture with a photograph (passport of 1923) as if it was a National Event. However the Cornish Something today says its beautifully written & the setting is St. Malo & Aberdeen. And of course if you see a thing in the papers its true. Well well. In case I don’t emerge again, good Christmas t’ye. My less picturesque offering will arrive in course. Blessings on you. Yours M.

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124   nan shepherd’s correspondence Notes Lesley Storm: the pen name of Scottish writer Mabel Cowie (1898–1975). Mackenzie may be referencing Storm’s novel Robin and Robina (1931), set in Primrose Hill in London. The novel centres on the progress of an unremarkable, well-to-do young couple from first love to marriage, whose manners and behaviour, as they stroll through London and life, are undercut by the novel’s knowing narrator. like Sir Thomas More to the 1590’s: Sir Thomas More was executed in 1535. Mackenzie seems to be referring here to being mislocated geographically as extremely as she misplaces More temporally. It has not been possible to identify the review in which Mackenzie was mistaken for a writer from Aberdeen. Bailie Nicol Jarvie et Madame avec Bulloch: Bailie Nicol Jarvie, a character from Sir Walter Scott’s 1817 novel Rob Roy; and John Malcom Bulloch (1867–1938), prominent journalist and highly regarded at Aberdeen University, his alma mater. Mackenzie may be punning here on the name of Scott’s character also being the name of a brand of blended whisky popular in Scotland, given how she continues the letter. Sidney Smith & the surgical operation: a bon mot attributed to Sydney Smith (1771–1845) in Lady Holland’s memoir of him, published in 1855, that it ‘requires a surgical operation to get a joke well into a Scotch understanding’. it was worse than a Wee Free Commission in Auchterarder: a reference here to the po-faced solemnity of the audience for her talk, which was worse than the 1834 court case in Auchterarder that eventually led to the Great Disruption of 1843 in which the Free Church was formed. speakers being under the table by The King: a reference to the level of inebriety typically seen at such meetings, where the attendees will be dead drunk before the customary toast at the end of a formal dinner to the health of the king. I’m glad to hear of the Piglet: Mackenzie’s pun on the initials of Shepherd’s novelin-progress, A Pass in the Grampians, which would be published in 1933. Constable’s taste in binding cloth: the publishing firm of Constable & Co. S & M: Mackenzie’s novel Between Sun and Moon (1932). The King’s news is exciting: possibly a reference to the commissioning of a new book on Scottish history, Robert Bruce: King of Scots, which would be published in 1934. I hope Strachan succeeds in surviving J. H.: possibly a reference to James Huntington Whyte (1909–62), publisher of the periodical The Modern Scot through which Whyte urged the ideas promoted by Hugh MacDiarmid and others active in the Scottish Renaissance. It has not been possible to identify the Strachan mentioned here. Does said J. H. appear as Alcibiades? – not Euripides: a reference to Alcibiades (c. 450–c. 404 bc), Athenian statesman, and Euripides (c. 480–c. 406 bc), Greek tragedian. Alcibiades appears in some of Euripides’ lyric fragments and, possibly, in his drama. If they make a by-pass of the Black Top Road: a road running just to the north of Cults across open countryside.

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I did review Scotland in Quest of its Wits: Mackenzie has misremembered the name of David Cleghorn Thomson’s (1900–80) edited collection of essays, Scotland in Quest of her Youth (1932). It was reviewed in the Times Literary Supplement of 1 December 1932 (p. 916). Naomi M.: Scottish novelist and historical writer Naomi Mitchison (1897–1999). In an invited letter printed in Scotland in Quest of her Youth, Mitchison discusses the state of Scottish fiction. ‘The books that are being written are right enough’, she states. ‘There are established and delicate prose-writers, like Rachel Annand Taylor or Agnes Mure Mackenzie, who are sure of their audience – in London’ (p. 170). She continues, lambasting the state of Scottish letters that means its best novelists write largely for English audiences, with many of them living in England, too. Instead of this dreadful state of affairs, of which Mackenzie is supposedly part, ‘Scotland must learn not to be ashamed of its own youth and vigour’ (p. 171). I don’t suppose Henderson loves me with passion: Thomas Henderson (1880–1941), author of an essay in Scotland in Quest of her Youth called ‘This Vulgar Tongue’ in which he argues passionately for the recovery of the ‘Scottish vernacular’. Mackenzie, in contrast to many of her contemporary Scottish novelists, tended to write only in English. Henderson’s essay also lauds Gaelic, the language of the Highlands and islands, while knowing little of this ‘ancient language’, ‘save as it speaks to us in its incomparable music and through our blood’ (p. 156). It is perhaps this condescending romanticising of a lived language to which Mackenzie objects in her letter. l’affaire Squire was a damned nuisance: a court case in which Mackenzie sued the editor of the London Mercury, John Collings Squire (1884–1958), with the support of the Society of Authors. Nan Shepherd wrote extensively about this experience in her posthumous portrait of Mackenzie, published in the Aberdeen University Review in 1955: ‘Meanwhile her contacts grew, and her friendships, some of them notable. Her friendships were generous, she could not be niggard; and even in the compulsion of pressing a livelihood out of London, she was always ready to be used, if others could be helped. The supreme example of this was her willingness to allow the Society of Authors to use her as a test case against the sweating of the little-known author. A commissioned article of hers, delivered and approved in January 1931, was held up for a whole year by the Editor who commissioned it, and even then payment was delayed for another seven months and when, at the insistence of the Society of Authors, it came, was at less than half the rate her work was commanding elsewhere. The Society of Authors then asked her to let them take the matter to court. To a woman as sensitive and ungrasping as she, this was a real ordeal. The Society’s comment, after the case had been won, is worth quoting: “To the authoress who had the courage and public-spirit to allow the Society to take the matter to court, realizing as she did that the association of her name with the case was likely to be prejudicial to her future prospects and to narrow the market for her work, the gratitude of all authors and journalists is due.”’ defended Crippen: Hawley Harvey Crippen (1862–1910), who was executed for the murder of his wife. He was defended at his trial by Alfred Tobin (1855–1939). Jock: Jean ‘Jock’ Mackenzie, Agnes Mure’s sister and companion. By the way the Weekend – one of them: giving evidence in support of Squire were editors of a number of papers and journals, including those at The Times, the Dublin Review and others, as Mackenzie indicates here.

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126   nan shepherd’s correspondence had to eat about a yard of leek: from Shakespeare, Henry V, where Fluellen determines to make those who doubt his martial prowess eat his leek. Edward & his wife: Mackenzie’s younger brother and his wife. Scots Lit: An Historical Survey of Scottish Literature to 1714, which would be published in 1933. London Burns Club: The Burns Club of London, founded in 1868. J. H. Whyte: James Huntington Whyte (1909–62), publisher of the periodical The Modern Scot through which Whyte urged the ideas promoted by Hugh MacDiarmid and others active in the Scottish Renaissance. he appreciated John Gibb: Johnny Gibb of Gushetneuk by William Alexander (1826–94), published in 1871. It was enormously popular, and considered a classic. announced Sun & Moon as forthcoming: Mackenzie’s novel Between Sun and Moon (1932). Mackenzie has fun here at the papers’ expense: the novel was not ‘forthcoming’ but had been published for a few months; and the novel was set in locations around Scotland, not just Aberdeen.

From: Neil Gunn, to Nan Shepherd Address from: Larachan,| Dochfour Drive,| Inverness. MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 26900, f. 142 Sunday [no date, possibly 1933] My dear Nan Shepherd, There’s some great stuff in your poems. I am keeping them for a quiet reperusal, for these two or three days I have been rushed off my feet and envy you the prospect of the hills, though the snow be cold as your concentration. I’m saying only a word now, so that you may gather my drift. ‘The man who Journeys to his Heart’s Desire’ I think your most perfect poem. Two hours would hardly explain why. I might even find echoes in it – but from where I don’t know, the accent is so old and the tone like the line of a low long hill. But not all your poems are so flawless, though they are all exquisitely intent and authentic. I should like to point out your flaws! But I had better reserve that. I even began to wobble about them when I took up a book of Georgian poetry and found that the standard I had been applying to you was much higher obviously than the anthologist’s. Perhaps it is your, at moments, intricate metaphysical quality that lifted me without my knowledge. In ‘Union’ this quality is fused – no, is seen like a thread against light or a wine against heat – or a bowed head against the eternal sky of self-loneliness. How badly the Blackbird stumbles or stutters in opening, how splendidly he ends! Though what may be made of the sextet of ‘Snow’. And why

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be haunted by one rhythm-rhyme till it became almost grievous – which is quite unjustified, I truly observe . . . and here I’m at it! But it was nice of you to send them & I have read & shall read them again, slowly. Even a best-seller bows occasionally before that which even a Magazine may not accept. Neil Notes ‘The man who Journeys to his Heart’s Desire’: a lyrical poem that was not included in In the Cairngorms, Shepherd’s collection of poetry published in 1934. ‘Union’: there is no poem of this name in In the Cairngorms or in the manuscripts of Shepherd’s poetry. the Blackbird: ‘Blackbird in Snow’, written in April 1931 and published in In the Cairngorms. Shepherd shared the poem with Gunn in her letter of 15 September 1931 (National Library of Scotland, Dep. 209, box 19, folder 7; see pp. 111–12). ‘Snow’: one of a sequence of sonnets written by Shepherd but not published in In the Cairngorms.

From: Agnes Mure Mackenzie, to Nan Shepherd No address MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2750/36 [No date, possibly February 1933] Nancy my dear, this is uncommon good of you. And when a friend offers to do me a favour, and a very generous one, I certainly don’t think it any occasion for swearing at her in any language at all! However, I would make no bones whatever about accepting it – and not merely for ‘the sake of the che-ild’ – only for two things. The first is that its a quite certain loss – short of miracles, anyhow. It will take 500 copies to make the £250 costs. Now I reckon to sell 300, and from the figure he has fixed to limit my share, Mr L. obviously thinks the same, for that would be just £50 apiece. The other reason is more important really. (After all, I am as good as taking money out of Maclehoses pocket, and he’s not by way of having much more than I, I imagine.) Its the book itself. Mr L. has read it, and if he’s going to waste his money, he knows where he is. And its a publisher’s job to risk, if he chooses, on a book. But no one knows better than its author that the book, considered simply as a job of work, is a poor scrambled affair – mere journalism. De plus, there’s the content & point of view. We’ve both been brought up to believe that Presbyterianism is the root of whatever is rational & civilised in Scots culture. That is the belief of

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128   nan shepherd’s correspondence Scotland at large. All dominies & journalists have been taught it, got it into their pores, have a vested interest in it. To believe otherwise means revising this whole tidy mental contract. Well: I’ve come to believe that if you took an O out of root that sentence would be true. I haven’t said in so many words Voilà l’ecumenisme, but that is quite frankly my point of view, and the book includes much of the evidence that gave it me. To put it bluntly, it isn’t a book I can ask a Presbyterian to back [therefore] I wouldn’t back it myself if I was one. Its not a case of religious prejudice – on either my part or yours. Its a question of decency. And it doesn’t matter that the point I’ve just expounded is only, so to speak, the setting & incidental. Novels that I honestly wouldn’t have expected to shock a Wee Free elder have definitely upset a number of people who are much more broadminded than I am. This time I know I’m asking for trouble. I dedicated that book to a dead man for that reason. (He’d have approved of it, anyway.) I know your backing wouldn’t be public, but still, there it is. But do understand that I really am grateful for the offer, and thank you as warmly – and with a better conscience – as if I had accepted it. I’m very glad to hear of the history bloke. May his ascension be rapid & unimpeded. Nice of the D. S. too. And I think teaching history must be tremendous fun. Do you know I. F. Grant’s Everyday Life in Old Scotland? I was its godmother with A. & U. and its a nice bairn. Hy. & lit. are a nice mixture – think of a course of Scott alongside the 18th. Cy. They’d be the essence of an education. Sorry about the persistent bacillus. Who said cabbage? – wish I could take your advice. But there’s seven blank weeks in the space bet. me & June – Mother, fortnight, Jean do, spring cleaning do, & about a week proofs & index of Sc. Lit. My working day is painfully short just now – takes so long to get the engine started up, & I’ve no evening. I get really going about 4 p. m. & Jock comes in at 6.30. The book is cooked enough to dish, if I could do it. Its thin stuff, with nothing to it, but that, my dear, is Art. If I could be interested in it myself, it might go better. But I’ve lost my illusions, which is important. I don’t mind not hoping for myself. All I really want now is physical comfort. But I’ve little hope for the future of anything that matters more. Either Europe won’t disarm, and there’ll be another war, & worse. Or she will, and when Russia & China begin to move – Well, I suppose, il faut cultiver notre jardin, until a shell drops on it. But rear-guard actions are not exhilarating. And even if civilisation isn’t smashed, or alternatively poisoned by America, Scotland is not a cheerful spectacle. The Glasgow P. E. N. giving a solemn luncheon in honour of – Dot Allan, does make one gurgle. But one squirms afterwards. And these young noisy bounders refusing to drink the King’s health. Trifles, of course. But its trifles that are revealing. On second thoughts, I don’t envy you teaching Scots history. When we do produce something fine – and we have, often – there’s a triumphant clamour to trample it down. Or, if that won’t do, to drown it in golden syrup. Yes I know its so everywhere. Yet we seem to be more successful than most at the trampling. Personality &

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intelligence are far more common in a Scots crowd than an English. And yet we’re a country with little more art than Lapland. I think God cursed Scotland somewhere about 1280. This is not cheerful. My defeatism won’t help you. This is the second shot – I wrote last night & put the letter in the fire. I ought to this, but its nearly post time. Been reading a Welsh MS. novel that ought to make me thankful I’m not Welsh anyhow! And I’m going to dry clean my wig. This frosty weather is full of soot & my locks attract some. And do the week’s wash I ought to have done this morning. The weather is lovely February. I haven’t been out but once since Sunday and I’d like to! I’d like to look across to Blairs. Sorry I’m bad-tempered, Nancy. Not a cabbage, but a frost-bitten curly kail with earwigs. Yours, M. Notes this is uncommon good of you: Shepherd’s offer to partner with Mackenzie in the publication of her next book, discussed in Mackenzie’s previous letter. its a quite certain loss: a reference to Robert Bruce: King of Scots (1934), which Mackenzie had been commissioned to write by Alexander Maclehose (1904–89). It would become the first volume of six that would comprise Mackenzie’s magnus opus A History of Scotland (1934–41). Mr L. obviously thinks the same: likely a reference to Maclehose. De plus: French, ‘and further’. Voilà l’ecumenisme: French, ‘here is ecumenism’. a Wee Free elder: as a Presbyterian kirk, the Free Kirk is ruled by elders rather than bishops. The Wee Free church is famously strict in its religious doctrines. I dedicated that book to a dead man: An Historical Survey of Scottish Literature to 1714 (Alexander Maclehose & Co., 1933), which was dedicated thus: In Piam Gratamque Memoriam| Gulielmi Elphinstone| Aberdoniae Episcopi| Dei et Patriae et Musarum Servi| MCDXXXI–MDXIV. William Elphinstone (1431–1514) was Bishop of Aberdeen and founder of Aberdeen University. the history bloke: it has not been possible to identify this individual. Nice of the D. S. too: it has not been possible to identify this. Do you know I. F. Grant’s Everyday Life in Old Scotland?: by Isabel Frances Grant, published between 1931 and 1932. I was its godmother with A. & U.: Allen & Unwin, who published Grant’s Everyday Life in Old Scotland. Hy. & lit.: History and literature.

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130   nan shepherd’s correspondence Jean do, spring cleaning do, & about a week proofs & index of Sc. Lit.: Jean ‘Jock’ Mackenzie, Agnes Mure’s sister and companion. An Historical Survey of Scottish Literature to 1714 would be published in 1933. il faut cultiver notre jardin: from Voltaire, Candide (1759), meaning ‘we must cultivate our own garden’ – satirically, there is nothing anyone can do to effect things outside. Dot Allan: the pen name of Eliza MacNaughton Luke Allan (1886–1964), Scottish novelist from Glasgow, who wrote frequently of social issues in Glasgow. She was a committed member of Scottish PEN, a branch of International PEN, founded in 1927. I’d like to look across to Blairs: Blairs sits on the south side of the River Dee, opposite Cults near Aberdeen. It would have been a familiar view to Mackenzie when she lived near Nan Shepherd in the late 1910s.

From: Neil Gunn, to Nan Shepherd Address from: Larachan,| Dochfour Drive,| Inverness. MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 26900, ff. 116–17 24 August 1933 My dear Nan Shepherd, I’ve been some weeks away, where reading & writing were impossible – and both seem to be getting more impossible whether or no! – else I’d have said my word about the Northern Pass through which we imagine we have to go to make our foray on life. Which reminds me that all the criticism I’ve seen dealing with your singer-artist is wrong (on the lines that you’ve succeeded with your natives but not with her) because you have realised her not only completely but symbolically (if you’ll let the word pass) In this sense the conception of the whole thing is clear & integrated, and she is not foreign but native & very native. Indeed you balance her reality by giving the old man not only austerity but kindliness. Otherwise they would have greyed a trifle even before her vulgarity. And modern Scotland has the young painter lad. You see the problem or the moment: if you have not lingered, with decision, over it. Perhaps indeed the book, for the undiscerning, will have an air of slightness, of insufficient wecht: for the general run want meat and not visions or poetry. And it’s your writing that gets me finally. This sureness, this spare poise, the naked talk, the drawing to a conclusion. You are surer here than ever before, you are indeed so sure (out of long thought processes) that your detachment at moments may have the air of intricate analysis (i.e. of difficulty) and even almost of coldness as of an exercise. Accordingly a statement of passion in the character /(at very odd moments, I mean!)/ does not carry warm conviction, because the reader (usually spoon-fed or shovel-fed) has not

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made the subtle intuitive imaginative effort that leaves him susceptible to the statement as to a stroke on a bell. I cannot see how we can help that. And so my congratulations. Myself. I’m waiting the proofs of an historical (so-called) novel due for about May. No more will it make me a fortune than yours You, I suspect. And perhaps I don’t like history, as my book may show! But it had its moments of interest. And here the year’s at the spring. With all good wishes for yourself – & for your sales. I haven’t been in your city for a long time, & the birds will be singing in the Quarry wood. Ever yours Neil Gunn Notes the Northern Pass: a reference to Shepherd’s last novel, A Pass in the Grampians, which had recently been published. your singer-artist: Bella Cassie, a young woman returning to the area of the novel’s setting set on shaking up the quiet. Andrew Kilgour, the old farmer left behind after his brothers all leave to become university professors, is contrasted with the young painter, Barney, who dotes on Bella. I’m waiting the proofs: Sun Circle, which would be published by Faber and Faber later that year.

From: Agnes Mure Mackenzie, to Nan Shepherd No address MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2750/37 [No date, 1933] Nancy my dear, I make my sincere apologies – and accept gratefully. The partners now being three, we are liable up to £16.13.4 apiece, not more, and we’ll hope less. As for our respective attitudes to the tenets of the late John Knox & Co (K. wasn’t a Presbyterian, of course!) – well, I’m glad to hear it! I wouldn’t have supposed you’d be an enthusiast for either the Westminster Confession or the Covenants if you’d read ’em. But as only a few hundred Scots at most have read ’em ––– . And the obstacle is not imaginary. Jean communicates in the Church of England a good deal oftener than I do. But although I have been rigidly careful in the expression of opinions, she is constantly offended, where I should never have expected it and certainly didn’t intend. I dare not even suggest that it is

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132   nan shepherd’s correspondence something of a treat to me to go to my ‘really own’ church, as I can’t do in England. And I’m afraid the book is going to mean an unhappy time. After all, to nearly every one, ‘tolerance’ means ‘Accepting the assumptions I am accustomed to’ and ‘intolerance’, ‘objecting, on whatever grounds, to anything I don’t mind.’ And intolerance, today, is the one unforgivable sin. I’m not looking forward to the publication of that book. People are so accustomed to having their history heavily – almost incredibly – biassed on one side that even if I have avoided all bias on the other (I tried to, but I’m human) merely to get the facts means a shock – even if the facts weren’t an appalling indictment of what they’ve been brought up to consider the essence of the admirable. I hope you’ve got your legs under you again. We’ll be very pleased to see you, with the American friend, if I’m here. But I don’t know anything about that. I should prefer to stay here this Easter – my work’s so far behind & goes so slowly. But the expenditure of energy involved in resisting other people’s arrangements of my time is generally nearly as wasteful. You don’t know how lucky you are to have fixed terms & class hours and such. Office hours matter. Muriel’s books are sg. she can write when I don’t want her. And as everyone in my immediate circle either doesn’t earn money or has it coming in every month, irrespective of when their work is done, it is difficult to drive the circumstances of my trade into their imaginations! What I’d really like would be a week in bed, but short of a really serious illness its impossible. Anyhow, I am not ill in the least. As you know, my carcase is as tough as Lyon’s pastry. I’m only tired, and though it isn’t pleasant, I’ve been tired before & managed to get things done. Time presses so, though. The book is very difficult to lay out, and there’s a rather awkward bit of historical background in the early part. Not essential, but by this time the people are placed there & I can’t detach them. Once I can get to the knot, I think they’ll carry on. If only I had time. These early chapters are always maddening. If you notice, nearly all my books open badly, or drag in the second act, so to speak. Well – William [Shakespeare] found his second acts hard going at times – though his weak point is generally the fourth. I’m glad about Dutton. I hear things are going better in the U. S. They’ve been awful. Neither Cypress nor S & M had a U. S. edition, though I shd. have expected Cypress to fetch ’em. (Except Boston, though, the U. S. doesn’t like me. I shock it.) Is Dutton definite, or only nibbling? Proofs of Sc. Lit. due but haven’t come. I wish they would. The thing is clogging Single Combat. I know how far it is from what it should be. This damned lack of time again. I’ve only four days, in a week. /at most/ They begin at 10.30 or 11, when I’m already half tired. When I’m really tired I haven’t as a rule got anywhere till 4. Then I have to stop at 6.30. And two months Winterbank, & a full two months completely off work as well, reduce one’s year a bit. Then I hardly ever get my four days in the week. Windows, washing, &c &c.

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This is wailsome & wowlsome, but I feel like a cat with a clock tied to its tail. I’ve been trying to work all morning – a peaceful, uninterrupted morning, without even a doorbell. And I haven’t written a line. I will stop grumbling at you & go & have lunch. Bless you, my child, & my thanks. Notes The partners now being three: Mackenzie had entered into a partnership arrangement with the publisher Alexander Maclehose (1904–89) to produce a volume on the early history of Scotland, Robert Bruce: King of Scots (1934). The volume’s success would lead to the commissioning of a series of six books in total, which came to be Mackenzie’s magnum opus A History of Scotland (1934–41). At this stage a third partner, Nan Shepherd, was involved in financing the project. our respective attitudes to the tenets of the late John Knox: Mackenzie was a devout Episcopalian. Knox, who was involved with reforming the Scottish church and whose ideas eventually helped usher in Presbyterianism, viewed the proper organisation of a church quite differently. the Westminster Confession or the Covenants: the Westminster Confession of Faith, drawn up in 1646 and adopted as a subordinate standard by a number of Presbyterian churches, including those in Scotland. The Bible contains a number of Covenants, or contracts between God and the people. Given the context of this letter, though, Mackenzie is likely referring to the National Covenant drawn up in 1638 in Scotland in opposition to changes being proposed to the Church of Scotland by Charles I. These changes would have altered the Presbyterian make-up of the kirk. Jean communicates in the Church of England: Jean ‘Jock’ Mackenzie, Agnes Mure’s sister and companion. I’m not looking forward to the publication of that book: Mackenzie seems to be anticipating here the reception of subsequent books in her planned series of works on Scottish history, perhaps The Scotland of Queen Mary and the Religious Wars, 1513–1638, which would be published in 1936. We’ll be very pleased to see you, with the American friend: it has not been possible to identify this individual. my carcase is as tough as Lyon’s pastry: Lyon’s, a national chain of teashops established by this point as an institution. I’m glad about Dutton: publishing firm E. P. Dutton, based in Boston, MA, who published Nan Shepherd’s novels in the US. Neither Cypress nor S & M had a U. S. edition: Cypress in Moonlight: An Operetta in Prose (1931) and Mackenzie’s novel Between Sun and Moon (1932). Proofs of Sc. Lit. due but haven’t come: An Historical Survey of Scottish Literature to 1714, published in 1933. The thing is clogging Single Combat: Mackenzie was also at work on a novel, Single Combat, which would be published in 1934.

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134   nan shepherd’s correspondence two months Winterbank: Mackenzie regularly went on holiday to Winterbank, the house in Queensbury, near Bradford in Yorkshire, that she had visited since at least 1915.

From: Marion Angus, to Nan Shepherd Address from: 34 Eldon Street| Greenock MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 3036/6 15 May [possibly 1934] My dear Nan Shepherd Your lovely letter gave me great pleasure, apart from its personal appeal it was really a literary gem! I have planted the Rosemary in the garden here, pronounced your name three times over it & poured on it a libation to the gods of all sweet things In the recent warm weather I got sometimes in to the garden & I am feeling stronger but still tho the spirit is willing the flesh is weak & I get very easily terribly tired I sent your poems to a friend of mine whose poetic taste I highly respect she is a great botanist member of Linnean Soc & knows & loves the Grampians. She was enchanted with your poetry & says it has enhanced in her mind the wonder & beauty of the hills & she reads & rereads your exquisite verses. How very dear of you to give words of praise to my very limited & sketchy attempts at lecturing on Scots Poetry You know how I value your generous appreciations & sympathy with all attempts at mental activity You will soon be roaming in your loved haunts with your gold flecked hair about your sunburnt cheek & the light of imagination in your dusky eyes you are a happy rare spirit Nan Shepherd never let your golden heart be tarnished Give my love to the dear people I know round about Cults & to your mother. I may see Deeside again or I may not ever but you will always be a Precious part of that bit of my life in the North Much luck with your future poetry or fiction or essays Yours ever Marion Angus PS Do you ever go to the P. E. N. I begin to wonder if it is much good but there may be some papers & I can’t go myself

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Notes I sent your poems: certainly a reference to In the Cairngorms, Shepherd’s volume of poetry published in 1934. It is not clear whether Angus had sight of the poems before they were published, or had shared the published volume with her friend. lecturing on Scots Poetry: Angus gave various lectures during the 1930s on aspects of Scottish literature, sometimes asking Shepherd for tips and advice. the dear people I know round about Cults: Marion Angus had lived in Cults, near the Shepherd family, for more than ten years before moving to the Central Belt to care for her sister. go to the P. E. N.: Scottish PEN, a branch of International PEN, founded in 1927. Both Angus and Shepherd were closely connected with various founder members.

From: Neil Gunn, to Nan Shepherd Address from: Larachan,| Dochfour Drive,| Inverness. MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 26900, f. 120 26 August 1934 My dear Nan, I felt like acknowledging your note by return, it was so charming and wise. At least, I hope it was wise, because it was so clairvoyant and, by such deft implication, so congratulatory! Which means no more than that I was delighted you said what you said about certain evocative paragraphs. For if even one other sees them, then they are there, though all the rest of the world be blind. Isn’t that right – even mathematically? Cheers. It’s odd to have written something that you like & in the same instant to know you should cut it out 1) if you wish the critics for once to refrain from the word obscure 2) if you want to sell, whereas the something is not obscure to you at all, but on the contrary the only clear thing in a waste of pages! It’s different in poetry. It’s no doubt the fashion to expect it there. So you get off with it. Though of course you don’t do it in the way I try to. I’m earthy. You have real light: sometimes all light (as I do maybe sometimes be all dark) I am left with that impression of light: sunlight, icelight, clear water. Have you ever known a coldness so perfect that it took the skin off you, like heat? Then you’ve never touched the iron of a cartwheel in winter ice. Crying: O cold and cold and wild! With all the red cry behind that. The lapwing cry. The running wheel. ‘In the Cairngorms’ was an ambitious title. You move in it like [deletion] air & light & running water. What pleasure it gives me to

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136   nan shepherd’s correspondence say without politest shadow of reservation what fine poetry is this. It’s distilled – & I know all about distilling spirit – which spirit is, come to think of it, always crystal clear! My congratulations. Yours Neil Gunn

From: Agnes Mure Mackenzie, to Nan Shepherd No address MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2750/35 25 October 1934 Nancy my dear, they’re most lovely – far your finest work. The old ones that I know already are good enough, Heaven knows, but the new ones that I didn’t are greatly better. They are far above your novels, and I’m uncommon glad to see them in print. I hope they will have the recognition they deserve. I ought to have written ages ago, but a landslide of reviewing fell on me – long, crowded, and good books – one was Churchill’s Marlborough – and made me very busy & very tired, the more as my right hand was damaged. I haven’t had the spirit to write. Ellis Roberts has taken on Life & Letters, & his first act, apparently, was to gather his old Statesman string again, including me, to my great pleasure, but present inconvenience, as I naturally want to justify his choice & help to make his early numbers good, and am anything but intelligent. Glad you liked Bruce. Its having a superb press – only dissension Punch, wh. is amazed I should chuff England, and of course the Scotsman, which was to be expected but didn’t help sales. They, of course, are rotten, but I think it will cover costs at least, & leave me out of debt to the L. on the advance, and the pit of reviewing is a great help, though a fatigue. Its the best paid work I do. No, novels aren’t up to much. I’ve only once turned 2000 & that was the Quiet Lady, my worst book. The only one that made as much as £90. About £60–70 is my average, so it isn’t really much sacrifice to take to history. The Seven Kings & a Queen shd. do a bit better than Bruce, or we hope so! Its fearfully heavy, as its practically all from the raw stuff, and the difficulties of technique – of getting it in a manageable size, are immense & disheartening. We’ve /(Mr. L. & I)/ a wild plan for a series of five (I really don’t know which of us began the idea) but I suspect it will probably kill me. Mr. L. is very good, and takes all he can of the weight, but at the moment of course can do nothing much, and I haven’t his tremendous physical energy. Its been mild & muggy & fatiguing. I’ve only had a hat on 5 times this fortnight, 2 of them to church! Fencing, of course, has had to go.

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My arm’s all right, but a Scots historian don’t run to luxuries of the sort. I wonder how many we shall achieve of our five? The idea is to cross Scots history, no less! ‘Give ye books for a silk gown, ye’ll aye get a sleeve o’t’, though. Only Mr L is as hard up as I am, and if he should marry he’ll certainly be less enthusiastic over unpaying propositions. And I don’t know how much longer I can last physically. This is far harder work than Bruce. I could do it if I’d ten years, but it must go in one. However, I ought to get all the money this time, Bruce & Scots Lit made me £16, /between ’em/ less about £10 of expenses! Anyhow, though, there’s not much choice. I’m obviously done for fiction. S. C. /Single Combat/ was hackwork. Anyhow, also, I don’t mind if I do die now, I’ve done those of the main things I wanted that really mattered, though I would like to do two vols. more of our five. I hope your face is all right again, and that you are thriving on the history. It is fine, but a not very cheerful study. Good luck to the poems, & again my sincerest congratulations – and some envy. Yours, M. Notes they’re most lovely: a reference to Shepherd’s recently published collection of poems, In the Cairngorms (1934). Churchill’s Marlborough: Marlborough: His Life and Times by Winston Churchill (1874–1965). Eventually running to four volumes, of which the first was published in 1933. If Mackenzie did review this for the Times Literary Supplement or the New Statesman, neither chose to publish. Ellis Roberts has taken on Life & Letters: Richard Ellis Roberts (1879–1953), journalist. He took over the editorship of the literary journal Life and Letters in 1934. Reviews, and some articles, were published anonymously. his old Statesman string again: Ellis Roberts served a short stint as literary editor of the New Statesman, for which Mackenzie was a regular reviewer. Glad you liked Bruce: Robert Bruce: King of Scots published in 1934, the first volume of Mackenzie’s revisionist history of Scotland. The volume’s success would lead to the commissioning of a series of six books in total, which came to be Mackenzie’s magnum opus A History of Scotland (1934–41). The Aberdeen Press and Journal called Robert Bruce a ‘lively and beautiful book’ when they featured it as their ‘Book of the Week’, though the reviewer admitted there was much ‘to rouse either admiration or controversy’ (24 September 1934, p. 6). The Scotsman, which reviewed the book on 27 September 1934, set about Mackenzie’s scholarship, claiming that she set aside earlier rigorous scholarship on the Bruce’s life and campaigns with nothing more than ‘her opposite opinion to put in its place’. The final praise, in which Robert Bruce is described as ‘a very welcome book’ (p. 15), does not counterbalance the detailed criticism.

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138   nan shepherd’s correspondence only dissension Punch: Punch featured a review of Robert Bruce: King of Scots in the issue of 17 October 1934 (pp. 447–8). The reviewer laments that ‘I wearied of continual gibes against England’ (p. 448). out of debt to the L.: a reference to the publisher of Bruce, Alexander Maclehose (1904–89). He would commission a further five volumes on Scottish history from Mackenzie. was the Quiet Lady: Mackenzie’s novel, published in 1926. Seven Kings & a Queen: this was never published. The manuscript is held at the National Library of Scotland in Edinburgh. ‘Give ye books for a silk gown, ye’ll aye get a sleeve o’t’: Scottish proverb. Bruce & Scots Lit: a reference to Robert Bruce: King of Scots and An Historical Survey of Scottish Literature to 1714, published in 1933. S. C.: Mackenzie’s novel Single Combat, which would be published in 1934. The annotation is in Shepherd’s hand.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Neil Gunn Address from: Dunvegan,| West Cults,| Aberdeen. MS: National Library of Scotland, Dep. 209, box 19, folder 7 7 December 1934 Dear Neil Gunn, I’ve taken a long time to tell you how much I cared about BB – but then I took a long time to read it. Partly because I’ve had a very crowded term and refused to read it in fagged odd half hours when only stray bits of me were functioning. Partly because I had to go slow in order to savour its smell of earth, its primordial goodness. A world like that won’t give itself to hastiness. It has to be entered patiently. I needn’t tell you how well you have done it. The critics have done that very satisfactorily, haven’t they? I thought the return of Elie and her boy particularly good. One accepts them so much the more fully for their not being wholly attractive then. – But I don’t think the critics say anything of what to me is the purest fascination of your writing – your power of making one free of different planes of being at one and the same time. I don’t know if that expresses it. It isn’t a thing one does express in words. And yet – that’s the fascination – you do so express it. When you say of Mairi: ‘Indeed, in her steady unthinking darkness, she might have walked out of a mountain and might walk into it again, leaving no sign’ – I don’t think my brain takes in the words, but their meaning is moving in my blood before I have properly distinguished them. They’re like a pulse of life inside me. Something deeper than conscious intellect recognises their nature. I think you will understand what I mean.

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But that words should be able to convey this wordless thing – that is what amazes me. Yet they do. Something moving in the blood, yet fashioned in words. O my God! Words aren’t meant for that. How by all that is unholy do you do it? Nan Shepherd Notes how much I cared about BB: Butcher’s Broom, Gunn’s most recent novel, published earlier in 1934. the return of Elie and her boy: Elie, one of the novel’s central characters, lives initially with the local healer Dark Mairi, but has to leave the community after becoming pregnant. After years spent itinerant in the south of Scotland, Elie returns to her northern home just as the village is about to be cleared.

From: Marion Angus, to Nan Shepherd Address from: 60 Eldon Street| Greenock MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 3036/3 2 July [1936] My dear Nan Shepherd, My sincere thanks for your deeply comprehending letter. My dear sister’s death came as a shock, altho in a sense I was prepared for it I felt as tho a part of myself had died with her And yet it is strange, that along with tragedy & grief comes a curious uplift & the sense of finality is also a sense of fulfilment. You will now be planning some adventure in some fair country and my good wishes & blessings go with you. We have lost the sun these last few days & tried to feel thankful for the rain but it is not easy in this humid land. I hope your mother enjoyed her garden to the full – the June days & is strengthened by the open air life. I am perhaps going to Colinton on a visit next week, altho’ I am a little nervous about the effort of moving & behaving like a guest. I have just finished a life of Thomas De Quincey by Edward Sackvill [sic] West & found it extremely good – both in the criticism of his works & the psychological study of his mind. You do not I am sure altogether realize how much I value a few lines from you, always a strain of music in them & a sense of horizon With love & admiration Yours ever Marion Angus

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140   nan shepherd’s correspondence Notes My dear sister’s death came as a shock: Marion Angus’s sister Ethel, who had been ill for some time, died in 1936. your mother: Jeannie Shepherd (1865–1950). a life of Thomas De Quincey: A Flame in the Sunlight: The Life and Work of Thomas de Quincey by Edward Sackville-West (1901–65), published in 1936.

From: Neil Gunn, to Nan Shepherd Address from: Larachan,| Dochfour Drive,| Inverness. MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 26900, f. 121 5 June 1937 Dear Nan, But how nice of you! Indeed if I had met you in a public place after reading your note I might have saluted you with a warmth that would have astonished the lieges – especially of Aberdeen! You can imagine the sort of reviews I get. It’s not the praise or the blame. It’s that dull opaque eye. In fact, I am never worried by reviews, because, I suppose, I know I have had my private fun, and a time comes when others come in & you say goodbye to all that. If you see what I mean. Then a seeing eye like yours – and all the original warmth comes flooding on a smile – and one has a moment of the sweet embarrassment of understanding. Too much of it might, as I say, be dangerous – to the high standards of conduct to the lieges. There may not be much adequacy in that; in what I say, I mean, but there are glimmerings of summat somehow I feel. Or might be, given a more tangible medium for its expression. A thousand thanks that you took the trouble to give the awful transparence to what you saw. Sometime in your land we’ll meet again. Neil. Note You can imagine the sort of reviews I get: Gunn had just published a new novel, Highland River (1937). Many reviews praised the opening scene in which Gunn depicts a young boy landing a truly impressive salmon, though many also felt this was the high point of the novel, which for several lacked much by way of plot. Agnes Mure Mackenzie, reviewing the novel for the Times Literary Supplement, acknowledged that readers might be ‘irritated by it beyond endurance’, but wrote vividly of the novel’s creative power, which ‘appeals to something behind the intellect’ (12 June 1937, p. 445).

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From: Marion Angus, to Nan Shepherd Address: Miss Nan Shepherd| Dunvegan| W. Cults| Aberdeen MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 3036/2 9 June [1937] My dear Nan Shepherd To read a letter from you fills me with something of the thrill of surprise & delight which one feels when coming upon an unknown lyric – When the colour of light & the charm of the half realised come wholly so. Oh Deeside in Spring! & how well I know that moorland wonder-road from Tarland down to Dennit – one of the darling ways I shall never go again! My sister’s illness at so great a distance is a constant ache which must be borne. She is no better but I am glad to say with sisters of her last husband who are devoted to her I fear it is one of those long illnesses which can have but one ending. I am thinking of going to stay with a cousin at Colinton, Edinburgh towards the end of this month but whether I shall go further north afterwards is still quite vague & uncertain. I being so lame & rather frail can only visit where I am quite at home in the house & so after Colinton wherever I go it will not be to be a guest. Your mother will be a picture now wandering or sitting about in the sunny garden. My sister has just planted some of the deep rose pink Thrift (sea pinks) I forget the botanical name. They are livid & long but I like the natural one better. I saw your name mentioned in the Glasgow Evening News where Wm Power writes in an article on Scotch Novelists, among those who have exploited Aberdeenshire He is an unsatisfactory writer on literature & seems mostly to catalogue names with no discrimination as to excellence or attempt at comparative criticism. For instance Orkney & Shetland Eric Linklater & Marion MacNeil! Glasgowian George Blake & Waugh etc etc – but I imagine journalistic writing is a deadly enemy to disinterested opinion & sincerity as a whole. When my little book does appear my dear Nan it will be a disappointment to you if you are looking for anything Wild & strange which poetry [deletion] ought to be. My muse is not a bird with a broken wing but more like a domestic hen with a crippled leg. Further more as Wm Power told me I might as well have ‘put it in the back of the Fire’ as given it to Gowans & Grey who he says are mere bookbinders & it will fall as flat from them as a half baked scone.

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142   nan shepherd’s correspondence I really let them have it because they wanted to do a collected edition & as they couldn’t get the copyright I handed them my earlier tremendous notes in a moment of weakness. Well it doesn’t matter! I have not read Neil Gunn’s Starry River Great praise from Glasgow Herald but English papers even good ones cold I wish you had been truly the Highland sketcher no one could possibly do it so well – Where did you get that long gift of sight or hearing & spiritual oneness with mountain springs & mists? I am reading a book on Philosophy by Hutchinson Shirley – a synopsis of all the Phils. from Plato to Kant. When I have finished I shall perhaps be a changed character & perhaps I shan’t! I do hope the boots for ‘throwing over the farm’ will carry you safely ‘oer moor & torrent till you get home again. Will you find any lyric poets there I wonder. I mean singers of today. It would be so interesting to know too if any of them write in dialect – There should be a revolt from the Ibsenish tradition by this time. My love & good wishes to you & to your mother. Marion Angus Notes My sister’s illness at so great a distance: Marion Angus had three sisters. Ethel had died in 1936. Her elder sister, Annie Katharine (1867–1940), would die first of the remaining two (Amy died in 1943), so is perhaps the sister mentioned here. Your mother: Jeannie Shepherd (1865–1950). the Glasgow Evening News where Wm Power: William Power (1873–1951), journalist and politician. He was well regarded in Scotland as a literary critic and wrote frequently about contemporary literature and authors in a number of newspapers. It has not, however, been possible to trace this article. Eric Linklater & Marion MacNeil!: Eric Linklater (1899–1974), Scottish poet and novelist of Welsh origin; and F. Marian McNeill (1885–1973), writer of Scottish folklore and cookery books. George Blake & Waugh: George Blake (1893–1961), journalist, editor and director of Faber and Faber, born in Greenock on the Clyde estuary. He retained throughout his career a deep interest in the circumstances of those who lived and worked in Scotland’s Central Belt. George Waugh (1893–1961), novelist, also born in Greenock, who wrote about the industrial heritage of the Clyde. When my little book does appear: Lost Country, the final collection of Angus’s poetry published in her lifetime. It appeared in 1937. to Gowans & Grey: Glasgow-based publishers of Lost Country. Neil Gunn’s Starry River: a reference to Gunn’s most recent novel, Highland River, published in 1937. Its press was mixed, with many reviewers nonplussed by the novel’s lack of typical narrative features.

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Great praise from Glasgow Herald: a review of Shepherd’s In the Cairngorms was published in the Herald on 14 November 1934. The reviewer found in Shepherd’s writing ‘insight into the innermost heart with its importunate demands and its unquestioning surrenders’. Shepherd kept a copy of this review. a book on Philosophy by Hutchinson Shirley: it has not been possible to identify this text. oer moor & torrent: possibly from the hymn ‘Lead, Kindly Light’. the Ibsenish tradition: Henrik Ibsen (1828–1906), Norwegian playwright, who wrote in Danish, the language of Norway’s former conquerers. During the nineteenth century an alternative language system, Landsmål, was developed which attempted to better represent vernacular language use in Norway.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Hugh MacDiarmid Address from: Dunvegan| West Cults| Aberdeen MS: Edinburgh University Library Centre for Research Collections, MS. 2960.9/1 9 January 1938 Dear Hugh McDiarmid, I can send you no MSS. of the two talks I have given in Aberdeen on your work within the last year. I never write lectures. Not even notes for them. One was a talk to the Scottish Literature and Song Association, the other a W. E. A. lecture. In both cases the audience was definitely not high-brow – indeed the former is a body whose usual fare is Lady Nairne’s songs, or a demonstration of country dancing, and I was quite uncertain beforehand whether their mental level was /not/ to be Anne S. Swan. A first glance at the audience suggested that it certainly was. There was one fat comfortable elderly wife who just needed her shank to complete her – but she took every point in the most unexpected way. The whole room did. They responded in the liveliest fashion to everything. You certainly got them. I found myself remembering ‘Gin I canna win through is the man in the street, The wife by the hearth – ’ In both talks I was trying only to make contact between them and you, to make them feel the dynamic and creative quality of your words. So I read a great deal aloud (and to the Literature and Song Association I took a musical friend, who, playing her own accompaniments, sang two of F. G. Scott’s settings.) And they felt and responded all right. No doubt of that. Later there was the usual crop of elderly gentlemen who told me it was all very interesting, but they couldn’t find all that in Hugh McDiarmid, etc. etc. – even to the one who said he simply was no poet at all; and since I’d been trying to make them aware that he

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144   nan shepherd’s correspondence was precious to us precisely because he was a poet, in the profoundest sense of that maligned word, the retort was nasty. The usual cavilling, also, at using Scots. And one kindly pleasant likeable soul who felt that Scotland’s greatness lay with the folk who did the humble routine duties of life – quite failing to discriminate between the humble routine duty of gathering tatties and the humble routine duty of gathering gossip; nor reflecting that a country that uses its poets to write the pars on triplets and the presentation to the meenister, is less than generous to its own potentialities. – But of course, ‘twixt lug and lip’ – Working among students, one is well aware of the distortions the human mind can make of what it hears. – (It may interest you, by the way, to know that none of the students who pass through my classes in the Training College here (not the university – it’s the non-graduating students I work with) leave without having read some at least of your work. Heaven knows how much bides. One always hopes, a little. In their final year, when they choose their own special subject of study, something over a third, I find, choose Scottish subjects. – Some but not all of your volumes are in our library, and I have a number of your poems besides typed for their use.) For the article I’ve been asked to write on your poetry for the Aberdeen University Review (and I gave only a qualified assent – I was asked for it just after the W. E. A. lecture, as if in the belief that I’d just hand over the ms. of that: but an article of that sort is a very different matter from a talk depending partly on sound to carry idea) – even if I do it, it would be too late for your Autobiography, if it comes out in late Spring. The spring term is too full to let me concentrate on it. But if I do do it for the Summer number, I’ll send you a copy. I’ve asked a newspaper man I know to get me that Bulletin statement of yours. I am very glad you have been writing (writing poetry, I mean) – really getting to grips with your big work. I like enormously your Shetland preoccupation with stones – the thrust with which you set aside the crazy superstructures to get back to the elemental. I gather from your letter that something of that kind is what has been happening to you in that world of stone and water you are inhabiting. Coming out again into a more complicated world is the divil of a job. But of course a big poem is the divil of a job anyhow. At least I hope your devils give you joy as well as torment. (I bet they do.) My kindest remembrances to Valda and to the laddie whom I saw asleep in his basket. Yours ever sincerely Nan Shepherd – I lent a friend Stony Limits and got it back with the remark: ‘Well, it’s stony all right, and it certainly is the limit.’ Speaker a farmer’s wife, who already knew and relished your early lyrics.

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Notes usual fare is Lady Nairne’s songs: Carolina Oliphant, Lady Nairne (1766–1845), Scottish songwriter. A contemporary of Robert Burns (1759–96), she shared with him a concern about a distinct Scottish heritage. Anne S. Swan: Annie S. Swan (1859–1943), Scottish fiction writer. Her writing was extremely popular despite criticism for its lack of realism. ‘Gin I canna win through is the man in the street, The wife by the hearth – ’: from Hugh MacDiarmid’s poem, Second Hymn to Lenin (1935). sang two of F. G. Scott’s settings: Francis George Scott (1880–1958), composer. Scott set to music poems by a range of Scotland’s foremost poets, from Robert Burns to Hugh MacDiarmid. For the article I’ve been asked to write: ‘The Poetry of Hugh MacDiarmid’ was eventually published in the Aberdeen University Review in November 1938 (pp. 49–61). that Bulletin statement of yours: published on 24 and 25 January 1938 in the well-known Glasgow newspaper, Bulletin. The statement was the latest salvo in a textual battle with Edwin Muir about the validity of using Scots in Scottish writing. Muir argued for abandoning Scots altogether, adding criticism of MacDiarmid for good measure. The exchanges led to a permanent breach between the two men. I like enormously your Shetland preoccupation with stones: MacDiarmid had moved to Shetland in 1933, and his work in this period explores in part the landscape he found there. remembrances to Valda and to the laddie: MacDiarmid’s second wife, Valda Trevlyn (1906–89), and his son James Michael Trevlyn, born in 1932 in Shetland. I lent a friend Stony Limits: Stony Limits and Other Poems by Hugh MacDiarmid, published in London by Victor Gollancz in 1934.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Hugh MacDiarmid Address from: Dunvegan| West Cults| Aberdeen MS: Edinburgh University Library Centre for Research Collections, MS. 2960.9/4–5 11 October 1938 Dear Hugh McDiarmid, I had a letter from you, still unanswered, just as I was leaving for a primitive existence in a shanty on the edge of the Cairngorms – where one lives and is, but neither reads nor writes. All I did about it then was to send a subscription for the Voice of Scotland, and order Albannach. But now I must answer your question, whether there are any young men about Aberdeen likely to write the sort of stuff you want. There is one who

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146   nan shepherd’s correspondence might – I think you’ve met him, or at any rate he has met you, but I don’t know how far the acquaintance went. You may not remember. A lad called Robert Jolly – he can think, and he can write, and is now (or was recently) in London trying to live by writing. He’s Left wing, like most intelligent people, and indeed was working on an edition of Lenin’s letters but was forestalled by their publication elsewhere and was in low water financially for a while. Whether he’d write for you, or whether you’d want him, I don’t know. But there’s good stuff in him, some independence of mind and judgment, and some force. The article I wrote on your poetry for the Aberdeen University Review is I believe in the press. It was written for the July number but at the last minute some Academic Lord died or was promoted or something, and another Academic Lord wrote about it, and the Editor of the Review asked, Would I have you curtailed or postponed? Since the Academic Lords had to have their unexpected space. As my object had been to persuade people to read you, and I had therefore quoted very freely, to curtail would have defeated my purpose and I said, postpone. But you shall have a copy when it comes – December, I think – it probably won’t express what you think about yourself but at any rate it is the attempt of one reader who loves your lyric to induce others to love it too. Yours ever sincerely Nan Shepherd – Notes send a subscription for the Voice of Scotland, and order Albannach: The Voice of Scotland: A Quarterly Magazine of Scottish Arts and Affairs, edited by Hugh MacDiarmid, began publication with the June–August edition in 1938. The Albannach, the 1932 novel by Thomas Joseph Douglas MacDonald (1906–75) under the pen name of Fionn Mac Colla, published in 1932 by John Heritage after a campaign in support by Hugh MacDiarmid. MacDonald studied at Aberdeen Training College under Shepherd between 1923 and 1925. A lad called Robert Jolly: Robert Jolly (1909–74), who graduated from Aberdeen with an MA in 1931. The article I wrote on your poetry: ‘The Poetry of Hugh MacDiarmid, which was eventually published in the Aberdeen University Review in November 1938 (pp. 49–61).

From: Nan Shepherd, to Christopher Grieve [Hugh MacDiarmid] Address from: Dunvegan| West Cults| Aberdeen MS: Edinburgh University Library Centre for Research Collections, MS. 2960.9/3 22 October 1938

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Dear Mr. Grieve, Jolly has just come back to Aberdeen to a year’s work as assistant in the English Dept. of the University. So a letter to him at the Eng. Dept., King’s College, if you still should wish to write, would find him. Spurs is now in Cairo. The Latvian post, though good, had the serious drawback that he couldn’t take any money out of the country. He has a wife & baby & naturally enough wanted to spend the vacations here, but had no money to support a household. I’ve known other people take lecturing posts in Cairo and find them pretty thin. Haven’t heard how he is taking to it. No, I’m not writing. I’m dooner slow with a pen. Anyway, there’s something to be said for seeing to it that the droves of youngsters who descend on the schools have at least heard that Scotland has a literature, and that a country’s poets are more significant than her press. Salutation! Nan Shepherd – Notes Jolly has just come back to Aberdeen: Robert Jolly (1909–74), who graduated from Aberdeen with an MA in 1931, whom Shepherd had proposed to Hugh MacDiarmid as a writer. Spurs is now in Cairo: it has not been possible to identify this individual from the academic records of Aberdeen University.

From: Marion Angus, to Nan Shepherd Address from: Castle Neuk| Craigmillar| Edinburgh MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 3036/4 [No date, 1938] My dear Nan Shepherd Some good spirit inspired you to write to me, just when you did, for I was having a some what disconsolate time half in & half out of bed with a wretched cold – it brought me the tang of the wind on the Stonehaven road which I know so well & a distinct impression of your own buoyancy & élan which makes you a constant joy. This & the remembrances of my friends & their greetings seemed to keep my spirits above zero altho’ the meteorological conditions were terrible & the snow lying deep. I have too, Prof Jack’s collection of verses from New King’s & a real pleasure it has been to read again this intriguing little book – Fires & Loch Avon – Oh! a lovely poem is Fires & with that thrill of passion & sincerity. There is not a line in it but simply ‘gets one’ not a phrase or line

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148   nan shepherd’s correspondence of diction – ‘all that moves – a star or two – moves slowly’, ‘great clouds plod to the slouch of the wind, their drover – ’ Be ye proud to have these tranquil yet moving words to your credit – & ‘Our surface ways’ & ‘the strange restraints of life for a soaring moment’ – and – in fact the whole conception & expression ‘Loch Avon’ is a jewel, a burning jewel! cold yet shining – & like Agnes M. Mackenzies ‘Western Moon’, Rowntree Harveys ‘South Wind’ – Linklaters ‘Teheran’ is good but imitative – Epitaph on a Dull Woman is clever & ‘Fable’ – but it really is a surprisingly good collection & a wonderfully discriminating selection. Who is J. Sutherland I wonder – I like his ‘To one I never knew’ but yours are the best in my humble opinion. I am impressed by 2 other books at present ‘An Experiment with Time’ & ‘the New Immortality’ by J W. Dunne. I took a while to grasp the theory & even yet have only got it partially clear; yet it, I mean the idea, seems to have got an almost uncanny grasp on my mind and along with /this/ a queer instinctive feeling that half consciously I knew all this in a vague way before – I have been house-bound so long that I have forgotten the feel of sun & wind – a ‘werena’ my heart licht I wad dee’, for longing for the old places & roads & little roads above Banchory. Now be sure to say to your mother that I often think of her & take my thank you for the sweet lavender and my heartfelt wishes for coming happiness to you my dear Always yours affect Marion A. Notes Prof Jack’s collection of verses from New King’s: Verses from New King’s by Some Former Students of Aberdeen University, edited by Adolphus Alfred Jack (1868– 1946), Professor of English Literature at Aberdeen University, was published by D. Wyllie in 1938. Fires & Loch Avon: Jack included two poems published by Shepherd in In the Cairngorms (1934), ‘Above Loch Avon’ and ‘Fires’. Agnes M. Mackenzies ‘Western Moon’: Jack included ‘Western Moon’ by Mackenzie alongside ‘To People Who Have Gardens’. Rowntree Harveys ‘South Wind’: Three poems of George Rowntree Harvey (1891–1951), ‘I Have a Grief’, ‘South Wind’ and ‘Visitation’, were included in Jack’s collection. Linklaters ‘Teheran’: ‘Teheran’ by Eric Linklater (1899–1974), appeared alongside ‘And Then I Found You Once Again’. Epitaph on a Dull Woman is clever & ‘Fable’: ‘Epitaph on a Dull Woman’ by Lyn Irvine (1901–73); ‘Fable’ by E. R. Mitchell.

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‘To one I never knew’: James Runcieman Sutherland (1900–96), whose poems ‘O Lady at the Play This Night’, ‘The New Prelude’ and ‘To One I Never Knew’ were included by Jack. Sutherland became Professor of English Literature at Queen Mary College, London, in 1936. ‘the New Immortality’ by J W. Dunne: by John William Dunne (1875–1949), and published by Faber and Faber in 1938. a ‘werena’ my heart licht I wad dee’: the title of a poem by Lady Grisel Baillie (1665–1746), originally published in 1725.

From: Nan Shepherd, to William Soutar Address from: Dunvegan| West Cults| Aberdeen MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 8538, f. 71 19 March 1939 Dear William Soutar, It was good of you to help me to an Inn. I think the Rumbling Bridge one will suit me best. I’m intending first to walk round the Fife coast (unless Hitler has seized the Kingdom), then over the Ochils and home by Perth. And I’d like very much to come to see you on the way. I’ve wanted to before, but was shy. I’ve always wanted to tell you how much I like some of your work. (My students – training to teach the young, bless the souls of both of ’em – all know and love Seeds in the Wind, so through them the bairns may come to know these delectable things.) Two yea Easters ago I stayed on a farm in Glen Lyon where the farmer’s wife was an admirer of yours. I expect (unless Hitler has seized the Rumbling Bridge) to be in Perth on Thursday week (30th.) May I come to see you then? sometime in the afternoon? I’ll have to be home that night. If this is quite convenient, don’t answer it. Very sincerely yours Nan Shepherd Notes the Rumbling Bridge one: Rumbling Bridge is a small village in the Ochils straddling the River Devon. I’d like very much to come to see you on the way: Soutar lived at Inglelowe, 27 Wilson Street in Perth at this time. Seeds in the Wind: Seeds in the Wind: Poems in Scots for Children was published in 1933.

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From: Nan Shepherd, to Neil Gunn Address from: Dunvegan,| West Cults,| Aberdeen MS: National Library of Scotland, Dep. 209, box 19, folder 7 14 May 1940 Dear Neil, I owe you a letter – for the Wild Geese. Though owe isn’t the word. It’s not a debt, but the acknowledgement of a recognition. But if people who recognize each other don’t tell each other so, how, in this disrupted world, are we to reach any sort of unity? And in any case, I did feel your debtor for the Wild Geese. I used to swim up to the surface from my own particular private Glasgow slum (parked on palliasses on the Old School floor in Cults), and plunge into your Glasgow slum with the sense of having withdrawn from a rank coarse reality to a world seen small and magically clear at the far end of an inverted spy glass. The rank coarseness was good too – but it doubled my force in dealing with it to take that wizard-journey through the lens. And now there’s Second Sight to add to the Geese. Laddie, you frighten me whiles. Not because of the theme, or any consideration of its implications: but because of the uncanny way you enter my breathing and living and seeing and apprehending. To apprehend things – walking on a hill, seeing the light change, the mist, the dark, being aware, using the whole of one’s body to instruct the spirit – yes, that is a secret life one has and knows that others have. But to be able to share it, in and through words – that’s what frightens me. The word shouldn’t have such power. It dissolves one’s being. I am no longer myself but part of a life beyond myself when I read pages that are so much the expression of myself. You can take processes of being – no, that’s too formal a words – states is too static, this is something that moves – movements I suppose is best – you can take movements of being and translate them out of themselves into words. That seems to me a gift of a very high and rare order. Not that I like Second Sight completely. Your English folk never really please me – why I didn’t like The Lost Glen. And when you write things like ‘and on suitable evenings provided some exquisite light effects’, I could thraw your neck to you. You, who can write like an emanation of the moor, to write in clichés like that! Still and on, I forgive you. Last August, before we smashed, I’d had thoughts of asking whether in my September wanderings (which never came off) I might call in on you. I wanted badly, knowing you’d been in Munich, to hear just how Munich and all it stood for had appeared to you then; and how the Wölckens were – Els always seemed to me a tragic creature, Fritz too self assured ever to be tragic. – But now of course – one doesn’t waste letters on the meaning of Munich.

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To both of you good wishes – Nan. Notes the Wild Geese: Wild Geese Overhead, Gunn’s recent novel (Faber and Faber, 1939). The novel is set in contemporary Glasgow and engages with a multitude of social problems. And now there’s Second Sight: Gunn’s most recent novel, published in 1940. I didn’t like The Lost Glen: an early novel of Gunn’s, published in 1932. The novel’s cast includes an English uncle and niece on holiday in the north Highlands. The uncle’s attitude is of a colonial administrator, ordering around what he calls ‘the natives’. His niece’s sensibilities are different, but difficult in their own way, as she falls in love with the charm and the landscape and struggles to recognise what it means to live in the glen as a permanent resident. In falling for her uncle’s ghillie, Ewan Macleod, she precipitates the deadly action with which the novel culminates. how the Wölckens were: Fritz Wölcken (1903–92), professor and translator. He had studied in Scotland in the 1930s, including a stint at Aberdeen University. He corresponded frequently with Gunn and also reviewed his novels for Scottish papers, as well as writing more broadly about Scottish literary matters. It has not been possible to find further information about Els Wölcken.

From: Neil Gunn, to Nan Shepherd Address from: Braefarm House,| Dingwall,| Ross-shire MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 26900, f. 122 17 May 1940 Dear Nan, Bless you for your letter! When I don’t hear from you, I miss that pleasure. You come uncannily at the heart of the matter & I feel, well, there’s one person anyway! One either sees a thing as you do or one doesn’t. That’s the sort of conclusion I’ve come to. Some of the reviews of my books admit of no intermediate conclusion. And it is natural that without a certain sort of eye many a scene would be unspeakably bleak & boring. As you can understand, no one but the writer knows when a critic puts his finger on a sore or an important point – no one knows so infallibly, I mean. When you hesitate before arriving at the word movements (movements of being), then it is as if you were surprising me in my very lair where, to put it mildly, I hardly expected to see you – or anyone else. To evoke life in its moment of transition, to arrest for an instant the movement & glance of its body & eye, to do something of the same kind to what we call inanimate nature – it’s difficult, but somehow it has in it a rare delight. I don’t mean here the Walter

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152   nan shepherd’s correspondence Pater or Renaissance attitude, the refining of the senses to a gem-like taste. Not that at all. Something, in a sense, quite other. A momentary apprehension of the primordial essence of life, alert, quick-eyed, arrested in a grey rock face rather than in a gem . . . and at the same time a curious halfconsciousness of an extra dimension of apprehension, with its momentary thrill. I am not at all sure (quite sensibly!) that we have not here the beginnings to an extra dimension of being. But enough. How I relished you thrawing my rock over the cliché. Delicious of you. And what a lovely cliché it was. I mean, how few will see it. It was pretty well done. More & more you’ll find me – gin I go on writing – using cliché and slang and swear. A perversity, this, but done, damitall, with a manner. Isn’t that what’s wrong with these pleasant English characters whom you don’t care much for? How many of us are clichés? And in a shooting lodge, on sporting holiday, well, I mean to say, what? Think it out. I actually delight in George. I had nothing to do with creating him at all. At any moment I could repeat him like a medium. But this is too subtle to introduce in a word or two. And, as you say, they don’t please. But I should like to write you at length on’t! Aren’t you coming this way this September? Do. We have room here. Yours Neil Notes here the Walter Pater or Renaissance attitude: Walter Pater (1839–94), essayist. Pater wrote hugely influential essays on various artists and writers, especially those active during the Renaissance. In his famous work, The Renaissance: Studies in Art and Literature (1873), Pater argued that ‘All art constantly aspires towards the condition of music’, in which the distinction between form and matter is ‘obliterated’. Concern for form, its relationship to subject, and its role in art, was an important aspect of Shepherd’s idea of art. And in a shooting lodge: a reference to the setting of Gunn’s most recent novel, Second Sight, published in 1940. I actually delight in George: an important character in Second Sight, who sees some of his fellow hunters carrying a body early in the novel.

From: Keith Henderson, to Nan Shepherd Address from: 22 Westbourne Terrace Road London W2 (temporarily while earning bread & fishes by painting some portraits) MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 27438, item 39 30th. [no date, 1940s]

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But dear Nan Shepherd, I was just going to write about that. The Studio has reproduced neither photographs nor article. I hoped of course that they might pay for both. Do you think this is about what we owe him? I mean what I owe him, because of course you don’t owe him anything. It was all my notion. The question rather is what do I owe you? Yes do come along to the Glen. Give as much previous notice of your arrival as you can, because we get booked up, not only with models and work generally – sometimes at a considerable distance – but also with ceilidhs of various sorts – also often at a considerable distance. And you are a treat not to be missed. By the way I saw a lovely letter from you to Neil the other day. He was tremendously pleased with it. Isn’t his courageous action good. I am enormously glad that he is now free. Maclehose. Yes why not Ian MacPherson? Or Fionn Mac Colla – either. The difficulty is to think of someone with a car. But the special affair that I hope you are earnestly considering is your next novel. A novel is worth all the small articles and essays put together. Small works dont make one’s name. Lots of folk believe in your work. It is damned good. So come on now. No excuses. Yours Keith Henderson – Notes Keith Henderson: Keith Henderson (1883–1982), was a painter and book illustrator raised in Aberdeen before studying art in London. The Studio: an illustrated art magazine, founded in 1893. It closed in 1964. Some of Henderson’s work appeared there. the Glen: likely a reference to Henderson’s home in Glen Nevis. letter from you to Neil: it has not been possible to identify this individual. Maclehose: possibly the publisher Alexander Maclehose (1904–89). Ian MacPherson (1905–44) and Fionn Mac Colla (1906–75) were both Scottish novelists. It has not been possible to identify exactly what Henderson is referring to here. the special affair: possibly a reference to The Living Mountain, which Shepherd was working on in the early 1940s.

From: Neil Gunn, to Nan Shepherd Address from: Brae Dingwall. MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 26900, f. 144 23 August [no year, not before 1941]

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154   nan shepherd’s correspondence Dear Nan, I know it sounds absurd, is absurd. That’s why I didn’t say anything about it – the length the publisher prefers. It’s one of these things, like disease, that is. Myself, the look of a long book turns me away with the awful feeling that life is short. Essences not gossip the spirit wants. I felt guilty over the length of the ‘Silver Darlings’. I had sketched out a book to cover a greater period of time, but stopped, and though I’ve been pressed to deal with what happened to fishermen in the succeeding generation or two, I just won’t. There’s a limit! However, I’m only telling you what I understand publishers want, with the notion that possibly it’s wise, when making one’s bow, to know about it. So, on the whole, I’d advise you to add to your contes. Though, for goodness sake, don’t agree with me – once you’ve thought it over to your own satisfaction. I never took anyone’s advice yon (to my regrets!) And yet, as to regrets, isn’t it merely a vanity to be ashamed of bad work – as if the badness weren’t in oneself! I laugh as I think of my wastes of badness, and ask no forgiveness! But here we’re discussing the commerce & finance of publishing. That’s the rule for you. About ‘The Plateau’ (sounds a trifle square-lined, & you dealing with curves & penetrations) that’s a different matter. But it’s the sort of book that publishers are shy of. A publisher would say to himself: This is good, but would I ever get my money out of it? You must understand that. It’s hellish, but there it is. You ask me if it is the sort of book I would like to read? It is. And if you cared to send the script on to me, I’d read it with great delight. Practically, too, I should then be in a position to know more about it and about. As it happens, you see, I think you have one of the finest, subtlest minds in Scotland. Your stuff should be appearing. I’m not flattering or talking of greatness or what not. The only value I’m sure of always is quality. It’s innate in you. My movements may be uncertain for a time. I’ve been living alone for a week, doing all my own chores, as my wife is away helping a sister upon whose home affliction has come. I’ve been bringing some semblance of order into the house all this morning! And now I’m off to meet a bus. Let me know when you’re likely to send MS. All the best, Yours, Neil. Notes I felt guilty over the length of the ‘Silver Darlings’: Gunn’s 1941 novel. Contes: French, ‘short stories’. About ‘The Plateau’: an early title for The Living Mountain. Shepherd retained the title but used it for the first chapter. as my wife is away: Daisy Gunn (d. 1963).

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From: Neil Gunn, to Nan Shepherd Address from: Braefarm House, Dingwall MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 26900, ff. 123–4 14 May 1942 My dear Nan, That was a wonderful letter. You have the punctuation of an invisible light, & a touch that can just be felt, like the wind’s, and is, unfortunately, invisible too. You make me think of the feet & the wind I once saw in a western loch on some young bracken. The feet, that ran on very lightly, & passed away, have remained. I feel somewhat light in the head myself at the moment, for the doctor kept me in bed for over a week, & then I couldn’t be bothered with his regulations, and that’s not usually too wise, but my throat, which nearly choked on me, is fine again, so if I sound a bit light – or have a too obvious consciousness of light – don’t blame me, for it’s not always easy to be too sober in the sun, and me trying to write a letter, and you talking of magic. One shouldn’t talk of magic? You say. Let me put a circle round, to ward off such heresy. We have listened too long to the clever intellectual climbing out of the human part of superstition & him showing off his clever climbing for all to admire & for to follow. To think that we never spotted the real truth – that the fellow has no magic in him! With how peculiar a sadism the intellectual witchdoctor has walloped the fun & delight out of the sheer magic of living! Keep an eye on him. He’s a good fellow – as far as he goes. But make your invisible circles round him – with your eyes & the feet & the wind & any natural thing of the kind that’s handy. And I’ll laugh with you, glory be to god & the wind & other handy things aforementioned. And I imagine I sort of apprehend your reluctance to read my poor volumes, [deletion] or rather, just when I feel I’m about to apprehend, the main hidden reason, so to speak, slips from me. And why wouldn’t it? It’s the sort of thing I feel I may get a glimpse of sometime, if I could glance quickly enough, which is what one should feel about any delightful thing. And to think that I’ll now have to write another book before I hear from you again! I stagger. But for this letter, my deep deep acknowledgements. (Such a final word!) Neil Note to think that I’ll now have to write another book: it was Nan Shepherd’s habit to write to Neil Gunn after the publication of each of his novels, offering incisive critique and attentive reading. Gunn would not publish again until 1943, with The Serpent.

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From: Neil Gunn, to Nan Shepherd Address from: Braefarm Ho., Dingwall MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 26900, ff. 125–7 8 November 1942 Dear Nan, this is really distinguished work. This belongs to what I understand as literature. In front of this, forgive me for saying that any references to ‘inferiority complex’ are just tiresome. My mind can’t be bothered contemplating it. It’s not even a red herring. It’s boring – and the slightest bit irritating in face of the true reality. Insight here is profound, essential. All surfaces are seen as surfaces, with the kind of understanding that apprehends completely, without conscious magnanimity (such a long word to spell!). This is distilling, & the purity of the spirit very high. But I’m not going on like that. And in mentioning ‘inferiority complex’, I was thinking of it as coming somehow from outside. You know how the mind works! Now I’m going to be hyper-critical, because I’m not quite satisfied with the writing. I say ‘the writing’ but I don’t know really if it’s that. And I’m annoyed with myself for not being clear in the head about what it really is. It’s so elusive. My guess is that it’s too congested, too much in the given space, with the result that there may be a certain informative abruptness, a sudden production of whole real characters, a lack of inevitable smoothness. It’s as if you had made up your mind to be very practical in the mechanics of the story, in the ‘real life’, very competent, with the infinite knowledge & the wisdom below: I don’t mean a lack of wedding of unweddable things. But no, that must be the wrong tack. I gave it to read to my wife, whose reactions are sometimes pretty good, without comment. She praised it as high & distinguished. But presently, a trifle troubled, she said that to her it was somehow as if the writing was a little ‘rough’. A perfect jewel in not quite so perfect a setting. We discussed it, but could not be quite clear. I’ll tell you an experience of my own. I wrote a story of about this length. My wife didn’t care for it (very definitely not of this your class). I put it away. But I came on it later, & I don’t like to be beaten: So I extended into a novel of 110,000 words. And then the critic was satisfied. Again, however, I found after a first reading of your story & starting /in/ again to read it at once that the fanciful ‘roughness’ had disappeared. So what can you make of me? I really am sorry to be so useless as a critic. Not that I’m sorry really. I never am when I meet the real spirit. It continues to be a surprise, & once more I get faith in literature.

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I don’t know of any place you could get this printed. There are no magazines for a story of this length & quality now. The Scots Magazine goes out of its way to print me, probably. Myself, it’s only newspaper articles I do these days. They do me very well, so what? With kindest greetings & the hope that you will go ahead for better & for worse. Neil Notes this is really distinguished work: ‘Descent from the Cross’, printed in the Scots Magazine in February 1943. I gave it to read to my wife: Daisy Gunn (d. 1963). There are no magazines for a story of this length & quality now: the Second World War caused significant shortages of paper and ink with consequences for all kinds of publications.

From: Nan Shepherd, to William Soutar Address from: Dunvegan| West Cults| Aberdeen MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 8545, f. 78 28 February 1943 Dear Willie Soutar, Would you do something for my Training College students? We’ve spent this term on Scots literature, and to finish it I’ve asked them to make a reading list for a non-Scot who wants to know our letters. I’ve asked for twelve poems on the list – not necessarily the twelve most famous, but twelve that, taken together, will give the best all round conception of our poetry; and then I suggested that it would be fun to ask some outsiders to make lists to test ours against. So we’re asking Neil Gunn and Marion Angus and Agnes Mure Mackenzie, among others. Would you like to be a measuring stick for us too? A hundred young women of eighteen to twenty will be happy if you do. They know you already, you know, through Seeds in the Wind. Ever yours sincerely, Nan Shepherd Note They know you already, you know, through Seeds in the Wind: Seeds in the Wind: Poems in Scots for Children was published in 1933. Shepherd taught Soutar’s poetry to her Training College classes.

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From: Neil Gunn, to Nan Shepherd Address from: Braefarm House,| Dingwall,| Ross-shire MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 26900, f. 143 26 July [no year, possibly 1943] My dear Nan, Now that I’ve heard from you I can consider the book published & approved. I can now get it out of the way. That’s fine. For it’s dawning on me that we’re creatures of habit & need at certain points certain things to happen. I’m not including you in magic. But there’s a glisten about somewhere. However, you needn’t mention it. When you don’t say much about it in your Cairngorm Book, I’ll know. It’s as well to keep these things in their place. And when you say – as you will – everything that can be said, I’ll smile. There’s a queer sort of mirth at the core, in the bubble of the cold spring, to mock hard-headed dour Presbyterians like us. This cold northeast breeds tough guys. But honestly I had never thought of Angus Og. It took you. It’s the way it happens. Here was I intricately concerned with theories in the head about underlying psychological issues in Fascism, and being upbraided by Communists (who rather thought I was having a slant on them – God forbid), and you talk about Angus Og! It’s beyond me. And that last long story (Descent from the Cross – was it?) has developed a sort of legendary power. These things take their own time. But I’m certain you could write a greater story now than ever before. My deep blessing. Neil Notes the book published & approved: Gunn published novels at a rate of about one every year, with Shepherd reliably writing to him after the publication of each. With the dating of this letter uncertain, it is not possible to be sure which novel is being referenced here, though it is likely Gunn and Shepherd are discussing The Serpent, published in 1943. I had never thought of Angus Og: In Gunn’s 1934 novel, Butcher’s Broom, Angus Og is an important character. your Cairngorm Book: a reference to what would become The Living Mountain (1977). Descent from the Cross: Shepherd’s short story, printed in the Scots Magazine in February 1943.

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From: Neil Gunn, to Nan Shepherd Address from: Braefarm House,| Dingwall,| Ross-shire MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 26900, ff. 128–9 7 August 1943 My dear Nan, To expect that you will get seven for your book is extravagant. If I got three like yourself I’d lift an ear for the bugles of the millennium. And that sudden thought makes me laugh as if I’d heard a new poem. But it’s the sort of air that surrounds your understanding, and the unheard sound that is not Keats’s but hangs between your ear & all the Grampian Mountains into one mountain. And the sound is less sweet than what Keats heard, though perhaps he could find no other word but sweet for it. For words, as you say, are gross enough at best. Anyway, it’s no good saying anything about the reviewer in your Aberdeen paper. Apart from Edwin Muir, they have nearly all said the same. And there is just this compensation – they’ll call it ‘escape’: O God, their labels! – that there is a sort of rare freedom in being unnoticed among the damned. It cleanses the mind of ambitions & brings what true delight there may be to the act of catching the unheard melody all for its own sweet sake. Or words to that effect. So you have one at least who will be waiting to know if you have caught it. Though that is going too far. For what can the best of us know or see or hear beyond the set of the body & its listening? What is communicated one might say is communicated by a rare chance. But that is not true. For there is an inevitability in the business beyond time or chance. And you are fair set by the nature of you in the midst of that inevitability. Of that there just is no doubt. So forward you go. Having a mountain, too, puts you fair in luck’s way. It might have been a reviewer whom you felt it in your intellectual need to analyse (not the spirit’s need, o Lord! – & therein lies all the distinction by which literature finally knows itself) like any ordinary novelist like myself. But I’ll leave the reviewers alone for a while, too, at least so long as there are ordinary folk who have a few true responses left like old croft women an siclike. Don’t you agree? It’s full of fun the whole business is, as one tries to catch the tail of it glimmering out of sight! But it’s fine & rare to catch the smile on another face. So I salute you yourself. I got to thinking the other day of that last short story of yours. Even apart from what it was all about, it leaves it haunting behind, so that it takes precedence (and isn’t that a good practical word!) over all other readings in the same kind which have come across me in recent times, & there have been a few Russians in the haphazard crowd. It came on the tip

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160   nan shepherd’s correspondence of my mind that you & I might have made some money in the distilling industry. But at once I doubt it. It’s not the money we would have been thinking of. The film-making hasn’t yet started. Many difficulties in the way – but the script is now finished, so I’m just sitting waiting, & doing nothing, with not an idea in my head. Though I have a continuation of the adventures of Young Art & Old Hector – possibly out of a sort of perversity, for the English could make nothing of them. But that is as yet confidential, for I’ll have to make up my mind whether it’s worth publishing. By the way, Joseph Macleod (BBC announcer & an authority on Russian Theatre & literature) wrote me out of the blue in enthusiasm over Young Art; calls it unique in English literature and babbles o’ Tolstoi! And – to give you more of my news – the Highland River you speak of now & then was recently published in a 8/o edition. When I heard my publishers were printing 25,000 copies I thought they were clean mad, but faith they told me shortly after that the whole lot were gone! It fair wandered me. Even ‘The Serpent’ is out of print. But I am assured it’s because folk don’t know what to spend their money on. So I enjoyed your letter & invoke God’s blessing on you. Ever & it’s the sweet girl you are. Yours Neil Notes seven for your book: likely a reference to the advance payment being sought for The Living Mountain. it’s no good saying anything about the reviewer in your Aberdeen paper: perhaps a reference to the review of Gunn’s novel The Serpent (1943) in the Aberdeen Evening Press which praised the novel’s beauty but felt ‘there has been haste in the writing’ (26 June 1943, p. 4). In fact, many of the reviews for The Serpent were positive, picking out in particular Gunn’s gift for description. It has not been possible to identify which was Edwin Muir’s. the unheard melody all for its own sweet sake: a reference to Keats’s ‘Ode to a Grecian Urn’ (1819), suggesting Gunn saw Shepherd as a writer of what lies beyond our senses. that last short story of yours: ‘Descent from the Cross’, printed in the Scots Magazine in February 1943. The film-making hasn’t yet started: an adaptation of Gunn’s 1941 novel The Silver Darlings. It was broadcast in 1947, directed by Clarence Elder. a continuation of the adventures of Young Art & Old Hector: another of Gunn’s novels published in 1941. Joseph Macleod: Joseph Todd Gordon Macleod (1903–84), poet and BBC newsreader.

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the Highland River you speak of: Gunn’s novel Highland River, published in 1937. Even ‘The Serpent’ is out of print: Gunn’s novel published only in 1943.

From: Agnes Mure Mackenzie, to Nan Shepherd Address from: 15 Langbourne Mansion, N. 6 MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2750/38 25 June 1944 My dear Nan, My congratulations to your mother on being eighty years young, for old she’ll never be. And to you also for the European scheme. Michty lass, but you aren’t scared of work! It should be good fun, though, and excellent for Mum. And do something sorely needed, for the bat-eyed foreign policy of this damn Government is laying the foundation of the next war this minute, unless the people are wiser than their rulers – as in fact they are, for the whole press except the Times is telling them off, from the Spectator left. I’m glad to hear John Macmurray is coming back. Do you know he has just been made a member of the Managing Committee of the Society of Authors? He won’t be dependent on Scots publishers, so I’m wondering if he & Neil Gunn & Kilham Roberts (Sec. of the S. A.) can do anything about the appalling conditions for Scots authors. I’m trying to set sg. going, though its difficult to know where to shove. I’ve learned a bit in the last six years, and I want to use the experience – it has been nasty. My bit books are no nearer publication – even the Pageant. I’m retyping it – it was a rather poor MS, & is now very tired. The wee books, retyped & revised considerably, I can only hold up till after the war. There are a few firms left, but small ones. I wish I knew more about them. It is clear I shall have to put my own money into it – a sair business, there not being much of it, & I made £145 last year. But I can’t let these books go. They are quite good & they are more than quite needed. I’ve decided to try that Bruce novel. Ending with the Coronation. Its highly topical – not only seized & occupied country, guerrilla war, splitting in factions, Victory, Quisling, ‘Free Scotland’ & all the brave. – Ancient history till lately, present now. But the real theme is the romantic young patriot being disillusioned by the people he has to work with & through, chucking in his hand at last in despair (not unaided, possibly, by a ‘sensible’ woman) and there, between Wallace’s martyrdom & the arguments of the two shrewd old bishops, deciding to begin all over again, without the romance but with faith. That also is topical. I’ve seen a few people go through the first half of the process – been myself: and if I have not thrown my hand in, it has been more from the pressure of circumstances (or the Grace of God) than anything else. Its a colossal job, & I’m not really up to it – a huge cast – & a new &

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the Highland River you speak of: Gunn’s novel Highland River, published in 1937. Even ‘The Serpent’ is out of print: Gunn’s novel published only in 1943.

From: Agnes Mure Mackenzie, to Nan Shepherd Address from: 15 Langbourne Mansion, N. 6 MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2750/38 25 June 1944 My dear Nan, My congratulations to your mother on being eighty years young, for old she’ll never be. And to you also for the European scheme. Michty lass, but you aren’t scared of work! It should be good fun, though, and excellent for Mum. And do something sorely needed, for the bat-eyed foreign policy of this damn Government is laying the foundation of the next war this minute, unless the people are wiser than their rulers – as in fact they are, for the whole press except the Times is telling them off, from the Spectator left. I’m glad to hear John Macmurray is coming back. Do you know he has just been made a member of the Managing Committee of the Society of Authors? He won’t be dependent on Scots publishers, so I’m wondering if he & Neil Gunn & Kilham Roberts (Sec. of the S. A.) can do anything about the appalling conditions for Scots authors. I’m trying to set sg. going, though its difficult to know where to shove. I’ve learned a bit in the last six years, and I want to use the experience – it has been nasty. My bit books are no nearer publication – even the Pageant. I’m retyping it – it was a rather poor MS, & is now very tired. The wee books, retyped & revised considerably, I can only hold up till after the war. There are a few firms left, but small ones. I wish I knew more about them. It is clear I shall have to put my own money into it – a sair business, there not being much of it, & I made £145 last year. But I can’t let these books go. They are quite good & they are more than quite needed. I’ve decided to try that Bruce novel. Ending with the Coronation. Its highly topical – not only seized & occupied country, guerrilla war, splitting in factions, Victory, Quisling, ‘Free Scotland’ & all the brave. – Ancient history till lately, present now. But the real theme is the romantic young patriot being disillusioned by the people he has to work with & through, chucking in his hand at last in despair (not unaided, possibly, by a ‘sensible’ woman) and there, between Wallace’s martyrdom & the arguments of the two shrewd old bishops, deciding to begin all over again, without the romance but with faith. That also is topical. I’ve seen a few people go through the first half of the process – been myself: and if I have not thrown my hand in, it has been more from the pressure of circumstances (or the Grace of God) than anything else. Its a colossal job, & I’m not really up to it – a huge cast – & a new &

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162   nan shepherd’s correspondence most complex technique. But it seems to be the thing I have to try & may be worth it. And, if its anywhere near decent, I can publish in London! That lifts a tremendous weight. Nice thing for an Hon. Pres. of the Saltire, a mighthave-been Vice-Pres. of the Scottish National Party, isn’t it? But its the other reasons why I can feel Bruce as well as see him. Coldest June I remember. Haven’t worn a summer dress since it started, even with a coat, and generally wear, indoors, woollen suit, wool jumper, your very helpful cardigan & a cravat, with as often as not a rug round my legs – there has been a steady flaying northerly wind. Sometimes light but always cold. Yet the roses are superb. This is a great place for them, & just now there are more flowers than leaves. The new doodlebug (pilotless plane) is not as bad as even the average of the old Victy [unclear], but has the disadvantage of not stopping at dawn, as Jerry has done since about Oct 1940. (Some of my best memories of the war are those dawns!) Its not very pleasant, but it has slacked off a lot y’day & today, so we’re hoping the R. A. F. have got it in hand. A friend of Jock’s rang up to say his sister-in-law & niece were killed in church last Sunday. We’ve had two fairly close, but no damage so far. We’re getting up to our 800th alert. Civilisation! I don’t know if we’ll get away, but we’re hoping. Peggy has not got a house, but has bespoken rooms for us – early August. I don’t look forward to the journey, but P. & J. ought to talk. I’m still a bit limp, but really quite well & said goodbye to the doctor. Whats still wrong is really only weather, I think. Good luck to your holidays. Yours, M. Notes congratulations to your mother: Jeannie Shepherd (1865–1950). to you also for the European scheme: it has not been possible to identify what Mackenzie is referring to here. John Macmurray is coming back: John Macmurray (1891–1976), one of Shepherd’s long-standing friends. He had been working at University College London for a number of years, but in 1944 he returned to Scotland to take up a chair of Moral Philosophy at Edinburgh University. Kilham Roberts: Denys Kilham Roberts (1903–76), writer and secretary general of the Society of Authors. even the Pageant: Scottish Pageant, Mackenzie’s four-volume edition of historical documents from the past two thousand years of Scottish history. The edition was published from 1946 to 1950. Mackenzie was by now firmly established as one of Scotland’s foremost historians, with public honours acknowledging her pre-eminence increasingly forthcoming.

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I’ve decided to try that Bruce novel: Mackenzie had published in 1934 a historical account of the Bruce in Robert Bruce: King of Scots. The volume’s success would lead to the commissioning of a series of six books in total, which came to be Mackenzie’s magnum opus A History of Scotland (1934–41). Her fictional account of this period, I Was at Bannockburn, would be published in 1948. Quisling: Vidkun Abraham Lauritz Jonssøn Quisling (1887–1945), head of the Norwegian government while the country was occupied by Germany, and a collaborator with the Nazis. John de Menteith (c. 1275–1329), who betrayed William Wallace (1270–1305) to the English during the struggles over who would succeed to the Scottish crown during the reign of the English King Edward I (1239–1307), might be the historical equivalent to Quisling Mackenzie has in mind. Hon. Pres. of the Saltire: Mackenzie had been elected Honorary President of the Saltire Society in 1941. the old Victy: it has not been possible to identify this. Jock: Jean ‘Jock’ Mackenzie, Agnes Mure’s sister and companion. Peggy has not got a house: Mackenzie’s sister-in-law, the wife of her brother Edward. P. & J.: Peggy and Jean ‘Jock’ Mackenzie, Agnes Mure’s sister-in-law and sister.

From: Neil Gunn, to Nan Shepherd Address from: Braefarm House,| Dingwall,| Ross-shire MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 26900, f. 130 30 October 1945 Dear Nan, You don’t need me to tell you how I enjoyed your book; if you do, you can’t have observed my own odd trafficking with bits of mountains. This is beautifully done. With restraint, the fine precision of the artist or scientist or scholar; with an exactitude that is never pedantic, but always tribute. So love comes through, & wisdom. It’s not altogether that you deal with essences. Indeed you deal with facts. And you build with proportion, methodically & calmly, for light & a state of being are facts in your world. At one point you talk of other senses there may or might be; and I thought to myself: how many use those they have? And if they have not used them – can they be illumined? There’s the desperate thought! It brings me to the size of an audience, to publishers, so let me try to be practical, for I should like to have this experience of the living mountain on a shelf by me. Friends of the kind are not so many. They are good to have near on the dull days (& I’m thinking of the weather). It’s going to be difficult, perhaps. So let me think of two possibilities, as a start. For I don’t feel too sure about Faber just now. A novel of mine, due for the late summer, isn’t out yet. That firm is in a terrific jam with printers and binders & stuff in hand. It’s a position that will ease – but until then it

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164   nan shepherd’s correspondence mightn’t be wise to force an issue. And there’s the size of the book for the straight unadorned publisher. Here are my two notions: 1) I think Salmond would take it to run in serial form in Scots Magazine. I’d write him beforehand. It will lose nothing by appearing in that form. 2) As a book, it would make a full one if it were illustrated by photographs of genius. You may not like the idea at first thought. You’re wrong. Mountain & loch names that to you evoke magic may not evoke so much to those who never heard them before. I have a book by George Blake called ‘The Heart of Scotland’. The actual writing is about same length as yours but it’s wonderfully illustrated. Published by Batsford (B. T. Batsford, Ld; 15 North Audley St., London, W. 1.). They specialise in this kind of book production. Really fine work. Supposing you drop them a note, saying you have written a book of just over 30,000 words on the Cairngorm Mountains, a personal record of the mountains seen in all their phases that might interest [deletion] hill & country lovers, & ask if they would care to see the MS? Make your letter interesting, you water sprite! They would make an excellent job of it. Anyway think over these two suggestions meantime. We can always deal with Faber later on. The thought of illustration of right kind fascinates me. Only page I would criticise is your first. You grow all metaphysical over use of ‘I’. Don’t. In that opening section the ‘I’ is unnoticeable any how. I remember how it worried me in ‘Off in a Boat’. I didn’t know what the devil to do with or about it. So in the end I paid no attention to it! Your first page must not take the reader too deep! Naturally, you are charming to a stranger, as I know! Neil Notes how I enjoyed your book: The Living Mountain, which Shepherd was sending to a few close friends for their opinions. I think Salmond would take it: James Bell Salmond (1891–1958), editor of the Scots Magazine, which had done a great deal to promote Gunn’s writing early in his career. a book by George Blake called ‘The Heart of Scotland’: originally published in 1934. George Blake (1893–1961), journalist, editor and director of Faber and Faber. how it worried me in ‘Off in a Boat’: Gunn’s 1938 memoir of sailing around the Inner Hebrides.

From: Agnes Mure Mackenzie, to Nan Shepherd Address from: 15 Lanbourne Mansions, N. 6. MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2750/39 18 August 1946

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My dear Nan, You know your good wishes mean something to me. If I did not acknowledge them sooner, it was because Edinburgh plunged us into a most ghastly mess of flitting. Poor Peggy has been thrown a month late with her flat, and as result was out of her furnished house while the workmen were in every room of the new one and all her furniture had been delivered into the mess, with the grime and contusions of three years ‘let furnished’ and two of storage. A more hopeless-looking mess I don’t wish to see. One room, however, was finished by the men, so we turned to and tried to get things more or less occupyable. We had one grand day’s motoring with Gladys by Innerleithen, Walkerburn and Selkirk to salt it, though. She had a job at Walkerburn she had saved for us, good soul, so we went up and called on the Superior, and wal/k/ed all round the policies – rather ghostly, but full of happy memories. After all the charing we were tired enough to flop when we got to Heysham. Auntie Clara is well settled into a very pleasant little house, right on the sea, with a huge view into the sunset all the year round. There were still curtains to alter, but we rested again and got back what Edinburgh had taken of the Onich vitality. Onich itself was a fortnight of the most perfect holiday we have ever had. Now we are back and getting the flat running again, and on Tuesday I hope to get at the wee books. Apprentice Majesty has come home again with a really very decent letter from Watt. My fault, not his. I read the carbon just before I left, and the thing is dead lifeless – not, I think, a usual fault of my books, whatever else they may lack. I am genuinely thankful no one took it. I don’t think it is hopeless – the lay out is sound enough, and the stuff is there. Simply I was too tired and too much distracted. If I can manage to re-write it it may do yet. Meanwhile – cupboard. I’m delighted to hear of The Living Mountain. I wouldn’t try Dent. They have a nasty reputation for sweating their authors. I waited to reply till I could get at a Yearbook – I cannot trust my memory in these days. On looking through the list, I think I would try one of the younger but reputable firms. Country Life, perhaps, Peter Davies, and Michael Joseph. Country Life do their books beautifully, with very fine photographic illustrations. The addresses are: – C. L. 27 Tavistock St. W. C. 2, P. D. Windmill Press, Kingswood, Tadworth, Surrey M. J. 26 Bloomsbury St, W. C. 1. And I’d send it now. It’s an awkward length for normal, but just at the moment firms like short books. And knowing you well and the Cairngorms slightly, I am ready to believe it is very good indeed. If you prefer an agent, A. P. Watt has been extremely decent over Majesty, and it was definitely not his fault he did not sell it. It went to good firms – he did not try any of the shoddy ones. And he has an excellent reputation. Address, Hastings House, 10 Norfolk Street W. C. 2. I must pick up my arrears of letters and get down to a blurb for those wretched wee books, so faur ye weel meantime, and my good wishes. Yours, M.

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166   nan shepherd’s correspondence Notes Poor Peggy: Mackenzie’s sister-in-law, wife of her brother, Edward. one grand day’s motoring with Gladys: Gladys Muriel Mitchell (b. 1896). Mitchell had graduated from Aberdeen in 1921 with an LLB, and knew Mackenzie from their days as students. At this time Mitchell was working as HM District Inspector of Factories (she was appointed in 1944), and the textile factories of the Tweed valley fell within her purview. The Policies is an area of woodland between Selkirk and Galashiels. Auntie Clara is well settled: wife of Mackenzie’s father’s brother Edward. the Onich vitality: a village on Loch Linnhe, near the Corran Narrows south of Fort William. Apprentice Majesty has come home again: Mackenzie’s latest novel, about the Wars of Independence. It would be published in Edinburgh by Serif Books in 1950. from Watt: one of the four sons of Alexander Pollock Watt, founder of A. P. Watt & Son, the first recognisable literary agency. get at a Yearbook: likely a reference to the Writers’ and Artists’ Yearbook published annually by A & C Black since 1914, and containing details about publishers across Britain. A. P. Watt has been extremely decent over Majesty: Mackenzie’s literary agency.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Jean and Grant Roger No address MS: Privately held, used by kind permission of Neil Roger 28 December 1946 Dear Jean and Grant, I was just about to settle to write to you when the post came & there was your letter: for which, as well as the former parcels, many thanks. That photograph, you know, is a marvel. What a live loon! How, how, does a man of twelve weeks achieve such an adult sense of humour? Those eyes seem to have looked out on life for a lifetime. What on earth he will be like at twenty-five I can’t imagine. You have certainly between you produced a person. Everyone we show it to comments on the amount of character it reveals. It will be grand to see you all when Summer comes. You, too, my dear Jean, are Something of a marvel. To run your house, shop, feed and care for your two men, and still have time & strength to make these exquisite Christmas cards – well, it’s an achievement. Though I can understand that now and then you’d like to run away from it all and see a snowy mountain instead of the holes in Grant’s socks. The tree and shrub calendar is a joy. We’ll watch it from week to week with a lot of pleasure. The amusing truth is that I nearly bought the same one for you! So you will understand that I like having it for ourselves.

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Mother sends many thanks. The Pelican books also will be a pleasure – I hadn’t had any of them before. And Mary sends thanks for her chocolates. Yes, it was strange not having any of you at all this Christmas. I ran away and spent my Christmas day in Dundee, and Mary had some visitors of her own for tea. I went to Dundee to see my ‘niece’, Daphne Hendry, who took her Diploma at the R. Academy of Dramatic Art over a year ago, and has been with the Dundee Repertory Theatre since. They put on for their Christmas show A. A. Milne’s dramatisation of The Wind in the Willows – Toad of Toad Hall – and Daphne was the bargewoman. It was a delicious show – music, dancing, and the antics of the animals were all delightful. So were their most ingenious costumes. About the knitting: it was Mary who knitted Neil’s vest – mother knitted Grant’s socks (and also of course the earlier things that Neil got.) Mary has enough wool left for a second vest and is very pleased to knit you another, and Mother would knit a second pair of long stockings, but we just can’t get the right wool. It has to be 2-ply & though we’ve had it ordered for a while, it doesn’t come and our new baby friends have to go without their usual gift. But when it arrives you shall have another pair. Or if you yourself have 2-ply wool & care to send it on, she’ll knit it for you gladly. You have enough to do without that. Meanwhile we all send love and the very best wishes for 1947. Nan Mary has begun the vest! Notes What a live loon: a very young Neil Roger. Mother sends many thanks: Jeannie Shepherd (1865–1950). The Pelican books: an imprint of Penguin which aimed to publish inexpensive academic books for a wide audience. It launched in 1937. Mary sends thanks: Mary Lawson (1884–1976), Shepherd’s housekeeper and companion. I went to Dundee to see my ‘niece’: Daphne Hendry, later Penny, then Randerson (1926–2003), who was the daughter of Alice Hendry (née Thompson, 1893– 1962), a good friend of Shepherd’s during her student days at Aberdeen University. Alice’s children, and later Daphne’s, called Nan Shepherd ‘Auntie Nan’.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Neil Gunn Address from: Dunvegan| West Cults MS: National Library of Scotland, Dep. 209, box 19, folder 7 4 April 1947

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168   nan shepherd’s correspondence Dear Neil, What a lump of a sheet to write to you upon! I got this paper from one of my Norwegian friends, who has apparently ‘just heard that we have a paper shortage’. About the book: There’s magic in this one. That first page – I could hardly turn over to get on with the story. I had to live in it, as I’ve lived so often in the reality. No one has caught it in words before, just like this – the way the first light alters things that are familiar, identifies them in a new way in our imagination. It is exquisitely done. And all through there is a magic of phrase – the kind of magic that obliterates itself, so that the words seem to vanish into the thing they have conjured up. ‘A tiny stream sang, the song that haunts the mind and won’t stop.’ – ‘The grey twilight, with the shiver for the skin, the eyes cool and clear as glass.’ – ‘His mind lifted and spread with the haze – he seemed to be everywhere, like an eye in the air.’ – ‘It was the last dumb question, the blind eyes staring into the silence.’ – ‘His mind was thin as the cool air.’ – ‘It was something not quite of the world, yet of the inmost heart and quick of the world’. But why on earth should I go on quoting you to yourself? Unless it be simply to confirm your own artist’s joy in the things you have made. And perhaps more of your critics will tell you about the substance of the book than about these delicate pieces of workmanship. Or are they a growth? The substance – yes, that is satisfying. From the moment Iain came home, through all the details of the sheep farmer’s life, I was fascinated. My forebears were sheep farmers – shepherds – and the whole process of the life is somewhere in my blood. You have made its power over a man comprehensible. And the struggle with the blizzard has the mounting excitement of, say, Leo Walmsley’s saga of fishermen in Three Fevers, or your own homecoming of the father’s boat in The Sea. (I can’ tell you how many times I’ve read that brief tale to audiences, sometimes students, sometimes literary societies and their kind, and you should see their rapt attention.) At first I felt that the marvellous opening – the slow in-wash of the light, the woman’s face at the window, the father’s brief word about the wind – I felt they made an atmosphere too portentous for what followed: as though all this, leading merely to a boy’s habitual ride to school, let the reader down. One expected more. But then I saw that you have very skilfully poised, in the brief opening, the two sides of the book’s conflict – the two ways of life between which the boy has to choose. And the lovely wash of the light is part of the life he chooses, and so most aptly opens the scene. The Granny is beautifully done. So is the young dog Mat – a marvellous portrait. Blessings on you. Have you had sunshine today? I’ve dug a bit of my garden and scrubbed my hen house and feel grubby and clean together! Yours Nan

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Notes What a lump of a sheet: The letter paper is A4 size, much larger than the usual octavo-sized paper Shepherd preferred for letter-writing. About the book: The Drinking Well, Gunn’s most recent novel, set in Edinburgh, published by Faber and Faber in 1946. From the moment Iain came home: Iain Cattenach, the novel’s protagonist, whose fate is to be forced to leave the rural farm he loves to become a lawyer in Edinburgh at his mother’s behest. Eventually events conspire to force Iain to return home. Leo Walmsley’s saga of fishermen in Three Fevers: a novel set in North Yorkshire, first published in 1932 by Jonathan Cape. your own homecoming of the father’s boat in The Sea: the first story in Gunn’s early collection of short stories, Hidden Doors, published by the Porpoise Press in 1929.

From: Neil Gunn, to Nan Shepherd Address from: Brae,| Dingwall,| Ross-shire MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 26900, f. 130 14 April 1947 Dear Nan, You can imagine the kind of reviews that reach me whiles, so a letter from you just about puts me right! ‘The kind of magic that obliterates itself, so that the words seem to vanish into the thing they have conjured up.’ I can quote from you too! And how exquisitely you can do it! Then that quotation, what more searching can be said on the use of words, of language? When I read a writer whose words call attention to themselves, I feel a self-consciousness in the air. And self-consciousness is our disease, everywhere. The cult of the Ego, the Self – how it is destroying (directly through violence) life itself! The world smells of it, the smell of death. Even to mention magic is to ‘escape’. So it’s nice to see the sun shining & the flowers growing & let words melt into the magic! You’re good at it. I’m afraid I have written another novel wherein there is a lassie who has notions about all this. Forbye yourself, I wonder how many will be able to read it? Geoffrey Faber was fair stumped himself, & fears for my public! But I was adamant. It won’t be out till next spring – and is very different from ‘The Drinking Well’. Which is about all my literary news. Have you been doing anything yourself, & you didn’t mention any more moves about your Hill book? Though I can see, Nan, that the world doesn’t want the well water. It doesn’t know that it needs it.

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170   nan shepherd’s correspondence But this is a word of greeting & a cheer for the eyes that see. May you have lovely days & the sun coming. Yours Neil. Notes I’m afraid I have written another novel: The Shadow, which would be published in 1948 by Faber and Faber. Geoffrey Faber was fair stumped: Geoffrey Faber (1889–1961), founder of publishing company Faber and Faber. is very different from ‘The Drinking Well’: Gunn’s novel, set in Edinburgh, published by Faber and Faber in 1946. you didn’t mention any more moves about your Hill book?: a reference to The Living Mountain, concerning which Gunn had been offering Shepherd advice.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Neil Gunn Address from: Dunvegan| West Cults| Aberdeen MS: National Library of Scotland, Dep. 209, box 19, folder 7 24 February 1948 Neil me lad, I read the book straight through – I was in bed and undisturbed, so there was nothing to break the spell. It fascinated me. But something nags at the end – something not completed. For, did Nan really discover whether or not Ranald was Kronos and would consume the young of the generation to follow him? She thought she did when she saw him shaken out of his intellectual poise by participating in a bit of violent instinctive action; only she didn’t know that he ran away from what he supposed he had done. What I want to know is what happened to Ranald when he got back to London – how he reacted to himself. Wasn’t there a ghost for him to lay? Do you remember Tomlinson’s young man (I forget his name) in Gallion’s Reach, who bashed old Peniam on the jaw & saw him fall dead from heart failure – and then ran away to sea and found many adventures – but in the end had to return to London ‘to lay old Peniam’s ghost’? It doesn’t really make any difference that Ranald’s ghost was still a living man. I want to know what he did, and how he lived inside his own mind about it. Am I exposing a Calvinistic Conscience, or something? It seems to me horribly important. For Nan. I think you bring out the gradual development of this tale extraordinarily well. One Sinks deeper and deeper in to its essential meaning as the

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pages slip by. Nan’s vital problem is finely imagined – how to reconcile her love for a man with her perception of a mode of life that shut out life – a fight, I suppose, for the integrity of love as well as the integrity of life. I can understand how disrupting it would be to know you loved someone who could not see things /that/ you knew as integral to both life and love. And the loveliness of the non-human world, of sky and earth and water, is not enough to heal that wound. To be quite satisfied with these exquisite and healing things is to refuse life. And now you must tell me – for I suspect you of nefarious work here – by giving this girl who loved air and water and light, and who couldn’t find all of human nature in a formula, – by giving her my name, did you wish on me the things that have been happening to me for the last year? I fear there’s been some horrible necromancy about. Because, you know, I’ve been having an extraordinarily interesting time. Perhaps that is an odd way to put it, since all that’s been happening to me was an operation in which they took away nine-tenths of my thyroid gland. The interest has lain in odd things I have discovered about the relationship between body and mind – Unexpected things – not quite what one had supposed they were going to be. And again and again in your book I discover that you had already set down things that I discovered. Time seems to have gone agley – or else, as I say, you wished the last nine months or so on to me. 29th. Feb – the day that falls out of the calendar – and I haven’t finished this letter, and I find in myself a great disinclination so to do. I was going to tell you some of the oddities I discovered which I found either explicit or implicit in Nan’s experiences. But, you know, it bores me to talk about myself – it doesn’t seem important enough to justify the trouble. Unless for this, that the crux lay for me in a profound fear that my essential self had altered – that there was a stranger living inside me. I lay for eight weeks – all that lovely last summer – on a camp bed in the garden, waiting while my pulse came down and my weight (which was 7 stone) was supposed to be going up but didn’t, before the surgeon would touch me. It was an interlude of pure being – later on my doctor said (he isn’t an imaginative chiel) that I was ‘enchanted’. I never spent so long at a stretch in absolute quiescence. But deep down there was a real fear (that only once was able to come to the surface) that this tampering with the odd gland about which in spite of all their knowledge they really know so little, might mean an assault on the essential me. And when I was beginning to recover, to go about again and try to live with my new self, I had two bouts of panic, when for days on end I couldn’t find myself. All I knew was that I had lost my poise – my inner serenity – the balance that is the precarious all that separates us from non-being, and could not retrieve it. And (while one is living through these things they seem eternal) I had to face the question whether my former poise had not been a matter of the spirit at all but merely the result of a generous supply of thyroid – an accident of matter. To find I couldn’t believe in mind anymore – in something that was independent of the flesh and its mysteries – shook me very badly. And like

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172   nan shepherd’s correspondence Your Nan I saw a whole earth dominated by an order for which spirit had no reality. – I was saved from my second descent into the pit, I may say, by the necessity of taking a bit of vigorous action in which all my mental powers were called into play – to deal with a situation that needed, oh, just all those qualities one does need in dealing with a difficult situation in which human nature has run slightly amok. And when I found that I could take a nasty knock, and be hurt, and yet master the situation and turn it as I wanted – I found I had got myself back again! I have blethered enough. Goodnight Nan Notes I read the book straight through: The Shadow published by Faber and Faber in 1948, Gunn’s most recent novel. did Nan really discover whether or not Ranald was Kronos: the central characters in The Shadow whose strange relationship precipitates the climatic action of the novel. Kronos, leader of the Greek Titans, consumed his children to prevent them overthrowing him, as he had done his own father. Do you remember Tomlinson’s young man (I forget his name) in Gallion’s Reach: Jimmy Colet, the protagonist in Gallion’s Reach by H. M. Tomlinson (1873–1958), published by Harper & Bros in 1927.

From: Neil Gunn, to Nan Shepherd Address from: Brae,| Dingwall,| Ross-shire MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 26900, f. 132 23 March 1948 My dear Nan, That was a terrific time you had. I had heard nothing about it. You make it very vivid. I hope you are fine now & taking the sun in. It’s a wonderful sun. And the flowers are very vivid. I am getting more & more conscious of the loveliness of things around. But we do depend on the body, I agree. I love shoving the spade right into the hilt and turning the earth over, just sheer digging, but lord! I started so violently the other day that I found I had a real heart because it got tired. So I sat down & listened to the birds & blessed them, and knew I would bless them though the heart was dying on me! No, I didn’t call the girl Nan because of you; at least I don’t know why I called her the only name I could call her, because she herself knew it was like a cry. Things are mysterious. Your little poems about the earth had

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that cry in them. Even the cold spring water on the hillside. The spirit cry out of the peewit body. Ranald will be no use to her, I’m afraid. In London it would be all right, but when the testing time comes & he answers the call of the head, then Kronos will devour his children. That’s the way the world is shaping. The world, ordered by men, will destroy what Nan stands for. I’m thinking of totalitarian man. But we are slipping that way ourselves. Totalitarian or Marxist Man, in action, will have no feeling of guilt. And the individual doesn’t matter much, & his emotional reactions not at all. That’s merely analysis, so don’t grow despondent! Not while the sun shines & one can still give the silent cry. I have been kept on the run, but should have acknowledged your letter earlier & should like to hear from you again. Neil Notes That was a terrific time you had: a reference to Shepherd’s illness, mentioned in her letter dated 24 February 1948, pp. 170–2. No, I didn’t call the girl Nan: the protagonist in The Shadow (1948), is a Marxist sympathiser called Nan Gordon. Shepherd had enquired in her previous letter whether Gunn had named the character for her. Ranald will be no use to her: another character in The Shadow. The fictional Nan corresponds with Ranald, her friend from London, while she recuperates in Scotland. Shepherd was interested in the relationship between Ranald and her fictional namesake.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Neil Gunn Address from: Dunvegan| West Cults MS: National Library of Scotland, Dep. 209, box 19, folder 7 28 January 1949 Och, Neil, here’s me that might have been wandering on the White Shore all that while ago, and it’s only yesterday that I’ve tumbled the little chimes of the Bough on to the wind. But the way of it was this: I brought home the Bough as soon as ever the cunning craftsman had wrought it out of silver and moonshine and the sounds that go by on the air. But my mother was very ill then – for ten days the doctors didn’t think she could pull through – but she did, only for a long time she needed continual attention – and, too, we had our youngster down from Shetland, having an operation and then recuperating – and through it all I had to pretend to a calm judicial appraisal of literature in the presence of students – and how could I even slip out, like that, into the other world? And I can’t read your books unless

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174   nan shepherd’s correspondence I have the leisure to go right out, and not be me any more but something blowing about the corners of your Place, a breathing in your air, water running through your brain. I can’t begin to criticise this book, because I’ve been in. Words like crock of gold aren’t sesame to me, but sesame grows all over these walls. It’s Sesame for me when you say ‘moving slowly as if shepherding invisible things into the house for the night’, or ‘things were settling down for the night, rocks and stones and the little pathway,’ or, (of time, that impertinence) ‘its fluidity came about him like invisible water’, or Anna, ‘beautiful, with a beauty that inhabited her’, standing ‘against the moonlit world with an extraordinary authenticity.’ – Neil, in this book more I think than in any of the others, you use words so that they stop being words – are thinned out until they become just life, still retaining the shape of the words that moulded it into meaning. Well, when one can write like that, is there anything more to say? Not by me. So au revoir. Nan Notes wandering on the White Shore: a reference to Gunn’s most recent novel, The Silver Bough (London: Faber and Faber, 1948). my mother was very ill then: Jeannie Shepherd (1865–1950). we had our youngster down from Shetland: Sheila Clouston (1918–92) who had been, along with her brother Grant Roger, included in Shepherd’s family since early childhood.

From: Neil Gunn, to Nan Shepherd Address from: Brae,| Dingwall MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 26900, f. 133 7 February 1949 Dear Nan, I can’t promise you that I’ll go on writing books for the pleasure of hearing from you, but I’ve done things of less account. It’s about time I finished. There’s a novel due perhaps in the summer, & I have been gathering bits & pieces of things that may come together, but after that . . . it’s about time I was just watching things growing, and I’ve never had much ambition in the writing line. But it’s not been unpleasant, and whiles it even amused myself. Your letter is a beautiful letter. It somehow makes writing as real as growing; & I could see myself doing a bit now & then indefinitely if it were as you make it seem! At the moment I have a long article

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on ‘Scotland’ to do for one of those glossy American magazines. They’ll send two photographers from Noo York for lavish illustration in colour. We were glad to know that your mother recovered & I hope she is now keeping well. And I hope you gather whiles & still delight yourself. I must say that I think the snowdrops are very lovely this year. One has to learn to look. Good looks to you! Neil Notes time I finished. There’s a novel due perhaps in the summer: Gunn published two novels in 1949, The Lost Chart and Highland Pack. It was Shepherd’s habit to write to Gunn after the publication of each of his novels to share her enjoyment of his writing. a long article on ‘Scotland’ to do for one of those glossy American magazines: it has not been possible to identify this article. your mother recovered: Shepherd’s mother, Jeannie (1865–1950), had been seriously ill. There were fears she would not survive and, although she recovered, she required full-time care.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Jean Roger No address MS: Privately held, used by kind permission of Neil Roger 4 February 1950 My dear Jean, If there’s any apology for not writing, it’s me that should be at the apologizing end! No, you didn’t write, but then neither did I. And Mother’s Calendar, Mary’s little bottle of scent, and my own delightful pocket edition of the Shakespeare sonnets, are all unacknowledged. Thank you so much for them all, and for a most alluring card as well, and forgive the long delay. To tell the truth, we had a rather sober Christmas, because we all took flu, not a serious kind, but any kind becomes serious for mother, who was very unwell for a couple of weeks. Mary and I didn’t really throw it off and both went about feeling groggy, and then after I’d got back to work, Mary took the sudden devastating violent gastric kind, luckily on a Friday night, so that by Monday morning she was able to be out of bed after I went off to work – and then on the Thursday I came home at lunchtime & tumbled into bed with the same thing! However it’s all over now and we are all at the moment on good behaviour. Love to you all from all of us Nan

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176   nan shepherd’s correspondence Notes Mother’s Calendar: Jeannie Shepherd (1865–1950). Mary’s little bottle: Mary Lawson (1884–1976), Shepherd’s housekeeper and companion.

From: Nan Shepherd, to John L. McNaughton Address from: Dunvegan| West Cults| Aberdeen MS: Moray District Record Office, ZBBu A7/952/3 11 July 1950 Dear John, You honour me but over-estimate my powers! When I read your letter, immediately there sprung unsummoned to my mind the phrase ‘Fish and the Faith’, and the vision of travellers and revivals honored above me. – But the Buckie worthies would sniff. So they would at ‘Between the Devil and the Deep Sea’, which was the next one that came. Then I decided that the only possible motto for Buckie was ‘Thrawn as a Buckie.’ Not, of course, sufficiently adulatory. One would have to add ‘Thrawn and thorough’ – or ‘Snell and steadfast’. What is the crest, by the way? A Buckie Rampant? The one thing I feel certainly is that the language for your motto should be Scots. One ought to work out something of the nature of Birse Yont (whose or what motto is that?) Seriously, John, I can’t think of anything that is seriously right but I shall be very much interested to know what you do select. Ever yours sincerely Nan Shepherd Notes over-estimate my powers!: John Love McNaughton (1891–1964), the town clerk of Buckie in Moray, was involved in the process of the town being granted a new coat of arms and motto and was consulting Shepherd as a renowned local author and fellow graduate of Aberdeen University. the phrase ‘Fish and the Faith’: early Christians adopted the sign of the fish as a secret marker of their faith. Shepherd is likely punning on this and Buckie’s history as a major fishing port. A Buckie Rampant?: the word ‘buckie’ has several meanings in Scots, but the first in Dictionaries of the Scots Language is ‘a whelk, edible or otherwise’. A whelk rampant, or rearing up, would have made a fine coat of arms for the town.

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Birse Yont (whose or what motto is that?): in Scots, to press outwards. It was a phrase used to describe the behaviour of several landed families with expansionist ambitions, but belonged to no family in particular.

From: John L. McNaughton, to Nan Shepherd Address to: Miss Nan Shepherd| Dunvegan,| West Cults,| Aberdeen. MS: Moray District Record Office, ZBBu A7/952/3 17 July 1950 Dear Nan, Thank you for your letter of the 11th. I do not think I overestimated your powers at all, but, of course, powers of the kind are not given to working to order, at least to some one else’s order. Doubtless the main cause of the difficulty is that we are so inconspicuous, in even our own belief, or so dowf, that we have neither oddity nor virtue enough to strike sparks sufficient to kindle even a poor candle to our honour. Some one is reported to have said ‘Gang tae Buckie and bottle skate’, whatever that may mean, and was it not the Bonnie Yerl o’ Moray that /was/ reproached by Huntly with ‘You have spoiled a better face than your own’ when Gordon of Buckie made his chief strike Moray as the latter was dying from Buckie’s dagger stroke? Neither of these phrases, however, historic or not, seems to have the germ of what we seek. Your essays though virile are somewhat over salty. We have not got as far as a crest yet. The local aerated water factory, however, uses the buckie as its trademark, so perhaps the copyright is gone. Only theirs is a Buckie Couchant. I enclose a copy of Lyon’s draft and covering letter, which may afford a moment’s reflection on the follies of mankind. The rector of the High School here and his humanist offered the Provost sundry Latin phrases of which I have not a copy. The one that seemed to appeal most to him, and the only one I remember, was ‘Mare Mater Nostra’, which is, no doubt, an apt enough sentiment, though I mislike the sound of it. It might not be so bad if the third word were dropped. Even so it is a bit obvious to my mind and I haven’t agreed to it so far. Which is largely the reason why I thought of seeking better authority. I shall be glad to let you know what we do choose. I have just been having a look at the Scottish National Dictionary but beyond disclosing that one of the seven meanings of ‘buckie’ is a hare’s hindquarters it gives nothing useful. Yours sincerely, John L. McNaughton

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178   nan shepherd’s correspondence Notes ‘Gang tae Buckie and bottle skate’: a phrase denoting impatience. Variations exist with different place names. the Bonnie Yerl o’ Moray: McNaughton is referring here to the traditional Scottish ballad ‘The Bonnie Earl o’ Moray’, which tells the story of how the Earl of Huntly murdered the Earl of Moray in the grounds of his house, supposedly after the Earl of Moray was betrayed. The quotation ‘You have spoiled a better face than your own’ is of Moray’s reputed last words, as related by Sir Walter Scott in his later retelling of the ballad. We have not got as far as a crest yet: McNaughton, the town clerk of Buckie in Moray, was involved in the process of the town being granted a new coat of arms and motto. There was much debate among local dignitaries about what imagery should be included, and there was also some discussion about an appropriate motto. There was a strong sense that the town’s history as a major fishing port and boat-building town should be represented in both images and words. The local aerated water factory: W & J Cruickshank. Lyon’s draft and covering letter: the post of Lord Lyon was held at this time by Thomas Innes of Learney (1893–1971). The role of the Lord Lyon in Scotland is to regulate heraldry. As such, for Buckie to receive a new coat of arms, they required Lord Lyon to grant permission. All such arms are recorded on the Lyon Register. The rector of the High School here and his humanist: William Dickie and Thomas Laing. Ultimately the motto chosen for the town was just the first two words, Mare Mater. ‘Mare Mater Nostra’: Latin, ‘the sea our mother.’

From: John L. McNaughton, to Nan Shepherd Address to: Miss Shepherd| Dunvegan,| West Cults,| Aberdeen MS: Moray District Record Office, ZBBu A7/952/3 20 July 1950 Dear Nan, I see I omitted to answer your query about ‘Birse Yont’. The wider associations of the phrase I do not know, but its local significance is that the late Mr. Chas. W. Thomson, rector of the High School and a rather keen Nationalist and antiLyonist, used it as a motto for the school. It appears on the pupils’ bonnets under a design of the initials B. H. S. The phrase is not mentioned under ‘birse’ in the dictionary and the latter has not yet reached ‘yont’. I enclose a copy of a reply received to a similar inquiry to one of your contemporaries and of my acknowledgment. I trust I have not, in

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my suggestion of an unfortunate but not altogether impossible possibility, been ungracious. Yours sincerely, John L. McNaughton Notes ‘Birse Yont’: likely a suggestion of Shepherd’s for the town motto, meaning ‘to push ahead’. Mr. Chas. W. Thomson, rector of the High School: Charles Thomson was rector of Buckie high school from 1913 to 1932. To be anti-Lyonist was to be opposed to the office regulating and granting heraldry in Scotland. the dictionary: likely a reference to the Scottish National Dictionary, published by the Scottish National Dictionary Association between 1931 and 1976. They had not, it would seem, yet got as far as ‘Y’.

From: Nan Shepherd, to John L. McNaughton Address from: Dunvegan| W. Cults| Aberdeen MS: Moray District Record Office, ZBBu A7/952/3 21 July 1950 Dear John, I feel an elegant conceit at realizing that all unbeknown’st I was translating Eric Linklater. Fish and the Faith is surely just Pietas et Pisces without the sous-entendre! I hope Eric appreciates wit other than his own. Like you, I approve Mare Mater with nothing more to it. But the boatie should be in it too. And it needs just a touch of something fierce. The Mater isn’t always Alma. I’ve enjoyed your Excellent Intentions. Has Bill read it? I’ll pass it on to him when I see him – he is of course among the Pisces this week. Ever Nan Shepherd Notes all unbeknown’st I was translating Eric Linklater: Eric Linklater (1899–1974), Scottish poet and novelist and fellow graduate of Aberdeen University. The correspondence between Shepherd and McNaughton suggests he was also consulted on the matter of the town motto. Shepherd is commenting here on the fact that the fish is already the symbol of Christianity.

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180   nan shepherd’s correspondence But the boatie should be in it too: an attempt was made to have a boatie in the coat of arms, reflecting Buckie’s long and proud tradition as a major fishing harbour. This was rejected by Lord Lyon, the keeper of Scotland’s heraldry, as not fitting. The Mater isn’t always Alma: from Latin, the mother isn’t always nurturing. I’ve enjoyed your Excellent Intentions: crime novel by Richard Hull (1896–1973), originally published in 1938. Has Bill read it?: likely William McGlashan (1892–1966), Shepherd’s colleague at the Aberdeen Training Centre. He married Jean Margaret Reid (1896–1988), who had taught English at Buckie High School upon leaving Aberdeen University where she had been two years below Shepherd.

From: John L. McNaughton, to Nan Shepherd Address to: Miss Shepherd| Dunvegan,| West Cults,| Aberdeen. MS: Moray District Record Office, ZBBu A7/952/3 26 July 1950 Dear Nan, Thank you for your letter of the 21st. It was largely because of the coincidence between your conceit and Eric Linklater’s that I passed on his letter. His reaction to my postscript I expect will be the same as Queen Victoria’s classic phrase. I am glad you share my view on Mare Mater. It is, of course, true that Mater is not always Alma, but sometimes Saeva Mater. However, even put /Saeva Mater or even/ Mater Saeva sounds a trifle like the name of a gala-week monster. We shall see. I tried a cast over Principal Taylor too, seeing he is a nearnative but he wouldn’t bite. Please dispose of ‘Excellent Intentions’ as you will. I don’t think Bill has read it. Only don’t send it back. I am incurably incapable of destroying books, even thrillers, and they accumulate. Yours sincerely, John L. McNaughton Notes the coincidence between your conceit and Eric Linklater’s: Eric Linklater (1899– 1974), Scottish poet and novelist and fellow graduate of Aberdeen University. The correspondence between Shepherd and McNaughton suggests he was also consulted on the matter of the town motto. the same as Queen Victoria’s classic phrase: likely ‘we are not amused’, attributed to Victoria by various sources, though possibly apocryphal.

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but sometimes Saeva Mater: from Latin, with Alma Mater meaning nurturing mother, and Saeva Mater meaning cruel mother. I tried a cast over Principal Taylor: Sir Thomas Murray Taylor (1897–1962), who became principal of Aberdeen University in 1948. He was born in Keith, Banffshire, twelve miles to the south of Buckie. Please dispose of ‘Excellent Intentions’ as you will: crime novel by Richard Hull (1896–1973), originally published in 1938. I don’t think Bill has read it: likely William McGlashan (1892–1966), Shepherd’s colleague at the Aberdeen Training Centre. He married Jean Margaret Reid (1896– 1988), who had taught English at Buckie High School upon leaving Aberdeen University where she had been two years below Shepherd.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Countess Ingegerd Ahlefeldt Laurvig Address from: Dunvegan| West Cults| Aberdeen MS: Scottish Poetry Library, Edinburgh, 43427 4 February 1951 My dear Ingegerd Ahlefeldt, How am I to thank you for the line of living hills? They glow, they change colour, they are alive with the joy of being themselves. I am putting them low on the wall of my bedroom, just above the bookcase that holds my best beloved books, where my eye rests on them as I lie in bed. Then I can sink into their life, and come back more fully myself. I hope life has been kind to you since you left the mountain fastness where we met. You are so live yourself that I fancy life won’t stay quiet around you but swirls and foams – at least you won’t grow stagnant, but serenity as well as vigour and gusto is needful when one is to create. I hope the finished pictures are giving you pleasure. If they give you as much pleasure as this little one you have sent me gives me, they will do well. Many many thanks and all good wishes from Nan Shepherd Notes Ingegerd Ahlefeldt: Countess Ingegerd Ahlefeldt Laurvig (1900–87), Danish painter. A professional artist in London in the 1930s, Ahlefeldt Laurvig exhibited her work in London and New York. After the Second World War, she no longer painted professionally, though it seems from Shepherd’s letters she continued to paint for pleasure. From 1950 until her death in 1987 the Countess lived in Long Melford, Suffolk. the mountain fastness where we met: likely the north-west coast of Scotland. Shepherd visited there in October 1950, an experience powerful enough to prompt poems about the hills and villages of the area.

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From: Agnes Mure Mackenzie, to Nan Shepherd Address from: 15 Langbourne Mansions, N. 6. MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2750/40 8 March 1951 My dear Nan, I should have thanked you long ago for the jasmine, but I have been like St Paul, in journeyings. The flowers are still gay and yellow on our window sill. I’ve been up and had a look at our own. I did tell you, didn’t I, that we had bought a flat on the Meadows – a solid Victorian affair, which though not really much larger than this contrives to look vast – three foot stone walls, nice solid woodwork, cupboards enough to make a modern London flat out of by themselves, and a tiny cat-patch of garden also a minute drying-green with four clothes-poles which make me feel very householderinsh [sic], and a bush of jasmine. I have got the joiner and painter to work on it, and ordered the curtains, and we hope to get up in the middle of May. I shall be north before that, though. Someone who was present told Jock some time ago that there had been a proposal to give me an LL.D., but the Divinity Faculty went up in the air and came down on it heavily . . . it would not have mattered if I had been an agnostic Red, but a Piskie Nationalist was more than the poor lambs could thole. Now there is a sequel. Tom Johnston has evidently been given leave to name some honoraries for his installation, and has included me, which is very decent of the old boy, though it happens to be both expensive in time, energy, and cash, all of which are rather short at moment. But I can’t in any sort of manners refuse . . . and anyhow, I do feel a little like the late King David, when he appreciated a table spread in the presenece [sic] of his enemies. And it’s also something to demonstrate that deaf people can do things, which is not unimportant for youngsters who have to convince their people it is worth while to let them train for things. So Aberdonia, here I come! And we must meet. The Grad is on the 5th, so I’ll be up either that morning or the morning of the fourth. I do wish it could have been the summer Grad, as then Jock could have come, and we could have made an excursion of it. I’ll have to come back next day, I imagine. Still tyauvin awa at that beastly little church history, which is quite the most damnable job I have ever tackled. I never can get two consecutive days at it, with the result that I forget what I have said and repeat myself. The draft, thank heaven, is done, but it will take about four writings to get into anything like civilised shape and sense. And everything I own seems to need mending! However, the foul little object is my last book – after this I do translations for the pot. The School History, by the way, seems to have

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waked up a bit, and the last volume promises to do quite well. Majesty, peace to its ashes, was a complete flop, which I regret, for I put into it all I knew. However . . . I hope your infirmary is well on the road to recovery. We must manage a meeting when I am up. I paid Jean a flying visit on my road south. She has had a rotten time, poor lass – two bad falls, and then a chill on the liver, which is not amusing. She was getting better, but still with a knee and an ankle in bandages. We shall have to get her into Edinburgh – she is far too much alone, and broods. However, she was cheered by my news of the flitting and pleased with the LL. D. She may come up for the Grad, so we’ll have a reunion. I now apply myself to the grocery queue. I suppose you will be afflicted with papers? Good luck to them, and my sympathy, and a good holiday, with not too much spring cleaning Yours M Notes I have been like St Paul: Paul the Apostle (c. ad 5–65). After his conversion to Christianity, St Paul undertook a series of journeys across the Middle East, proselytising. we had bought a flat on the Meadows: the Meadows, an area in the centre of Edinburgh, where Mackenzie lived in the final years of her life at 19 Lonsdale Terrace. ‘We’ refers to Mackenzie and her sister, Jean ‘Jock’ Mackenzie. a proposal to give me an LL.D.: regardless of the controversy Mackenzie received her LLD from Aberdeen University in 1951. Tom Johnston: Thomas Johnston (1881–1965), Scottish politician. He was appointed Chancellor of Aberdeen University in 1951, a role he held until his death. the late King David: from Psalm 23:5. that beastly little church history: likely Rival Establishments in Scotland, 1560–1690, published in 1952. The School History: A History of Britain and Europe for Scottish Schools, published in three parts between 1949 and 1951. Majesty, peace to its ashes: Apprentice Majesty, Mackenzie’s novel about the Wars of Independence, published in Edinburgh by Serif Books in 1950. your infirmary: as Shepherd’s mother had recently died, this is likely a reference to the health of Mary Lawson (1884–1976), Shepherd’s housekeeper and companion. I paid Jean a flying visit on my road south: likely Jean Smith Templeton, one of Mackenzie’s oldest friends.

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From: John L. McNaughton, to Nan Shepherd Address to: Miss Nan Shepherd| Dunvegan,| West Cults,| Aberdeen. MS: Moray District Record Office, ZBBu A7/952/3 2 August 1951 Dear Nan, The Town Council has just come to a decision about the proposed coat of arms and motto and the result has been notified to Lyon. I see from the correspondence that you asked at one point to be informed of what we did select for a motto. It was ‘Mare Mater Nostra’, the Provost’s recommendation from a list proposed by the rector and the Latin master of the High School. I suppose that outcome was pretty much inevitable, and, so, if we have not got a wet nurse in our stubborn childhood we have at least a watery mother with a proudly swelling bosom. Our next enterprise is to confer the freedom of the burgh on a past provost, Mr W. J. Merson. That is our first attempt, such flummery having become possible in a 19th century ‘police’ burgh only since the Local Government Act of 1947 came into force. I am wondering if Bill or Jean’s man could produce one of their Piscine odes for the occasion. We might even have it set to music. Jean & Co. are due at Strathlene on Saturday, so I may see then! I see you have gone all artsy in Aberdeen this fortnight, which no doubt is very admirable. Here we are content with a lifeboat gala week, one episode of which was a wicking raid by the lifeboat from Buckie, with a fierce crew of old fishermen in red woollen caps (nightcap style) upon the harmless town of Cullen, which they held to ransom, as their Norse or Gaelic forbears might have done. The report of George Harvey’s death the other day sent me to reread the verses he wrote about Jim Henderson and two others who fell about the same time. It all seems very far away now. Do you still haunt the foothills of the Cairngorms for your summer holiday? Whether or not, I trust you have had a pleasant vacation. Yours sincerely, John L. McNaughton Notes the result has been notified to Lyon: as town clerk John Love McNaughton (1891– 1964) was involved in the town’s search for an appropriate coat of arms and motto. A decision having been taken, the town was obliged to seek the approval of Sir Thomas Innes of Learney(1893–1971), who as Lord Lyon was responsible for all heraldry in Scotland.

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It was ‘Mare Mater Nostra’: eventually the motto was shortened to Mare Mater. Provost Hendry, along with William Dickie and Thomas Laing at Buckie High School, were involved in the decision. a past provost, Mr W. J. Merson: William James Merson (1879–1953). Bill or Jean’s man: It has not been possible to identify the man mentioned here, though he was a friend of William McGlashan (1892–1966), Shepherd’s colleague at the Aberdeen Training Centre, and his wife Jean Margaret Reid (1896–1988), who had taught English at Buckie High School upon leaving Aberdeen University where she had been two years below Shepherd. The report of George Harvey’s death: George Rowntree Harvey (1891–1951), drama critic for the Evening Express and the Press and Journal in Aberdeen. He was also an acclaimed dramatist and poet. Jim Henderson is likely James MacDonald Henderson (1891–1918) who was before the First World War an assistant in English at Aberdeen. He was killed in action at Locon in France in 1918. John McNaughton’s sister Ellen was Henderson’s widow.

From: Nan Shepherd, to John L. McNaughton Address from: Dunvegan| West Cults| Aberdeen MS: Moray District Record Office, ZBBu A7/952/3 12 August 1951 John, ye auld Buckie, whose Mother is the Sliding Sea – now, why should that immediately recall to me Doughty’s description of the Arabs’ staple food of camel’s milk as ‘this sliding diet’, if it werena that my mind was runnin’ on fish? And fish, I see, are excluded. Well, well, ‘there’s mony a foul fittet thing I’ the saut sea’, so it’s mebbe as well. Anyway, may the Mother flourish, and all her sons. You’ll be having a sort of family reunion just now. I hope you are leaving one with another in a Christian spirit. Jean’s restored health may make her yeasty. She’ll have told you no doubt about Harvey being at the Convalescent while she was there. I was very glad of a long chat with him one Sunday I’d been seeing her. I hadn’t seen much of him for a long time. He was a good soul and highly entertaining. We turned over a pile of old acquaintances that afternoon. He was dead a week later. I’ve meant to write you, you must know, for over six months. I never said thank you for the spicy Scottish calendar that came at Christmas. The reason – if reasons are of any value at all six months afterwards – was a dose of festive flu at the time, and an unexpected influx of visitors staying in the house afterwards. But I liked my calendar, thank you. I had a stravaig up into Shetland at the end of June and enjoyed watching puffins and skuas and other such furrin’ birdies, and seeing seals rolling about in the water and scrambling on to the rocks and rolling

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186   nan shepherd’s correspondence off again. It’s a marvellous land when the weather’s good, but my second week was nearly unbroken mist and that fair dauckled a body. Well, well, thanks for letting me in on the amusement of the mottohunt. And may all the waves and billows be kind to you Ever Nan Shepherd Notes Doughty’s description: Travels in Arabia Deserta by Charles Montagu Doughty (1843–1926), published in 1888. Jean’s restored health may make her yeasty: Jean Herron Love McNaughton (b. 1903), younger sister of John Love McNaughton (1891–1964). Harvey: George Rowntree Harvey (1891–1951), drama critic for the Evening Express and the Press and Journal in Aberdeen. He was also an acclaimed dramatist and poet. being at the Convalescent: Convalescent Homes were once common in Britain. Their use gradually declined after the establishment of the National Health Service in 1948. The Aberdeen Royal Infirmary Convalescent Home was located not far from Shepherd’s home in Cults.

From: John L. McNaughton, to Nan Shepherd Address to: Miss Nan Shepherd| Dunvegan,| West Cults,| Aberdeen. MS: Moray District Record Office, ZBBu A7/952/3 15 August 1951 Dear Nan, I doubt I cannot answer your problem in maternity. Mea mater sus est, said the schoolboy, playing on the two end words, and slid on the herring scales – or whatever other fishy thing it was. But a diet of camel’s milk and speldings sounds like an idea for our forthcoming first presentation of the freedom of the burgh (to a former provost – Mr. W. J. Merson, fishcurer). Is there a recipe, or do you furnish an ode or a sang? Thank you for your other news. I envy your Shetland experience. The folks are having a gey sober time at Strathlene this fortnight, except the two old men who fish and young John, who is tae the Hielans gane tae gillie in Strathconan. Still they seem quite happy. Yours, John L. McNaughton

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Notes I doubt I cannot answer your problem in maternity: an oblique reference to a longrunning correspondence between Shepherd and McNaughton about the motto of McNaughton’s home town, Buckie. Various versions of Mare Mater were under consideration. Mea mater sus est: a Latin pun, where the meaning of the phrase is entirely changed depending on whether a space between ‘mater’ and ‘sus’ is included. The phrase can mean either ‘My mother is a pig’ or ‘He/it is my mother’. to a former provost: William James Merson (1879–1953). McNaughton writes with his tongue in his cheek here, as Merson was one of the foremost citizens in Buckie, having led the town during the difficult years of the Second World War, welcomed Norwegian and Danish residents to the town, and overseen a significant expansion in the civic resources of the town. I envy your Shetland experience: Shepherd had recently returned from a visit to Shetland to see Sheila Clouston (1918–92) and her young family to whom Shepherd had been close since Sheila’s early childhood. at Strathlene this fortnight: Strathlene House was bought by Buckie Town Council under Provost Merson’s direction. It became an important civic asset, alongside the nearby outdoor swimming pool that Merson also had built.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Neil Gunn Address from: Dunvegan| West Cults| Aberdeen MS: National Library of Scotland, Dep. 209, box 19, folder 7 1 December 1951 Dear Neil, You’re a fine man of your word, aren’t you? Done with writing, to all eternity and over the edge of night. But I’m glad you’ve come back from the dark, and aren’t a man of your word. The well at the world’s end, when one drinks a drop of it, makes one speak; and speak things one didn’t know one was to say. I’ve just been seeing the Tales of Hoffman film. There’s a scene, below water, below thought, where colours and shapes are neither themselves nor yet alien, but blend and merge – as I lay down your book, that underwater strangeness comes to me as an image of some of the places I have been to in your it. book. Some of it is like being inside water. Not under it. Inside. One thing haunts me. Horribly. Inescapably. That psycho-analysed wood. It’s so horribly true. The processing of the fruit of the Tree of Life. Building Jerusalem ‘in England’s green smooth and asphalt land,’ the manmade peaches ‘smooth and round as a billiard ball’ – we all protest and the thing goes on and on. I like this imagination of yours that pierces down to the quick of life, and reports what it finds there in such delicious quirks as Sally without her scent?

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188   nan shepherd’s correspondence And I think it so excellent for your readers who live on the asphalt to be made to realize that Scotland is still so much in the wild that life may hang in the balance any day – on the sea or on the long slow stretches of uninhabited moor. Thank you for writing it all. Ever Nan. Notes The well at the world’s end: the title of Gunn’s most recent novel, published by Faber and Faber at the end of October 1951. Tales of Hoffman film: an adaptation of Jacques Offenbach’s 1881 opera, directed by Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger, and released in 1951. That psycho-analysed wood: Gunn’s tale is mythic and metaphorical. The novel’s protagonist, Peter Munro, encounters many peculiar individuals while undertaking a journey on foot. In the woods of the Forestry Commission he meets Granville Cocklebuster and his spaniel, Sally. Sally indeed loses the scent while the men are trying to flush birds from the ground. The forest is ‘terrible and authentic and older’ than Peter’s ‘marrow’, and is haunted by Sibelius’s music, among other mysterious things.

From: David Murison, to Nan Shepherd Address from: The Scottish National Dictionary| King’s College,| Aberdeen MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 27438, item 11 10 January 1952 Dear Miss Shepherd, It was very nice to have your kind and interesting letter of the 9th. The Dictionary folk join me in sending you best wishes for your good health and prosperity in the New Year. With regard to your queries: 1)  Perjink. It is only used in Scots in the sense familiar to you, of prim, precise, finnicky, particular, always of persons or in respect of their dress or mannerisms.   To use it of time is a neologism, obviously for working backwards from the double usage of precise in English. 2)  Jizzen. Has quite a reputable history It is from O. Fr. Gesine, childbed (< Lat. iacere) and occurs first in Scots in Wyntoun’s Chronicle. A. Ross has it in Helenore and we have examples from Aberdeen-

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nan shepherd’s correspondence: 1920–1980   189 shire and west Scotland (Ayr.) up to about 1870. McDiarmid used it again in 1926 and the others [deletion] have copied him.   I should say that it was current in the north-East and perhaps the west until about 1820 and thereafter would be probably looked on rather as a quaint revival. 3) Lallans. Your question is rather difficult.

The use of Lallans for the Scots tongue obviously originates in Burns’s Epistle to Willie Simpson, Postscript, verse 2, and this use crops up from time to time among various odd poets and writers, and then in Stevenson Underwoods as Lallan. From about 1920 it comes into prominence again writers like Pittendreigh MacGillivray, R. L. Cassie, J. G. Horne but I suppose its latest lease of life is due to the propaganda efforts of Douglas Young. I suspect that I myself had something to do with this. When we were colleagues together in the Greek department, Young published two numbers of what he called the Auld Aiberdeen [deletion] /Courant/ and Neo-Caledonian Spasmodical, a typescript journal, written mostly in Scots and discussing International and Scottish Nationalist politics, literary topics, including some of Young’s poems and to this farrago I contributed one or two articles, I forget now which and have most unfortunately mislaid my own copies, dealing with the possibility of a re-creation of Scots on the lines of the Norwegian landsmaal. In this I suggested the use of the word Lallans, as a slightly unfamiliar word name for an unfamiliar thing, viz a Scots used for more extensive purposes than it has been since the 16th. century. Young approved of this usage and has regularly used /persisted with/ it in all his many controversies, pamphlets, and [deletion] poems, possibly with most effect in his wireless broadcasts. It was also adopted by Maurice Lindsay from Young and has had a similarly extensive currency. The word therefore was used with a serious purpose and by the supporters and not the opponents of the movements. The latter indeed deride it as not being in colloquial currency in Scotland, as having a funny sound, etc. It should of course correctly be pronounced Lā(w)-lans. ‘Synthetic Scots’ was a term first used, I think, by Denis Saurat in all seriousness about McDiarmid’s language in Sangschaw, Penny Wheep, etc. and is, by and large, the equivalent of Lallans, though I for one do not think that McDiarmid’s methods of random dictionary-dredging and splainging of foreign vocables over his verse is the right way to build up and extend literary Scots. The antagonists (eg. Sir James Fergusson) have devised the term ‘Plastic Scots’ for it as being something artificial and a poor ‘phoney’ substitute for the genuine article. I hope the above is tolerably clear. There are all sorts of subtleties in the question which preclude a simple answer. Let me know or phone if I can be more precise or is it ‘perjink’? Per contra, I have been put on a Committee of the Saltire Society to investigate what is being done in schools and universities and training

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190   nan shepherd’s correspondence colleges to implement the recommendations of the Advisory Committee on Sc. Education concerning Scottish traditions, as contained in their reports on Primary and Secondary Education. I have suggested that they /we/ must first of all be certain of our facts and I should be very glad to have a talk with you sometime, if I may, both to get your facts and your opinions on the matter. There is no particular hurry about this as the Committee has not yet framed the necessary questions they wish answered. It occurred to me too that the question of speech-training should be included here and that I should see Miss Jackson on the subject. So perhaps you [deletion] might be good enough to mention this to her by way of notice, threat, warning or invitation, whichever you think most applicable! With Kind regards, Yours sincerely, David Murison P. S. A lady correspondent from Nairn assures us that Lallans was in regular use in her family for Scots, as opposed to Gaelic, and that Nairn School children still use it in that sense but I confess to being rather sceptical about that. Notes O. Fr. Gesine: abbreviation, Old French. Wyntoun’s Chronicle: Andrew of Wyntoun (c. 1350–c. 1422), prior and historian, who wrote a poem called Original Chronicle (c. 1420), detailing the history of Scotland and the wider world. Helenore: Helenore: or the Fortunate Shepherdess was a poem in the dialect of north-east Scotland by Alexander Ross (1699–1784). It was published in 1778. McDiarmid used it again in 1926: in Penny Wheep, one of two collections of Scots lyrics published by Hugh MacDiarmid. Burns’s Epistle to Willie Simpson: ‘To William Simpson of Ochiltree’ by Robert Burns (1759–96), published in 1785. Stevenson Underwoods: a collection of poems by Robert Louis Stevenson, published in 1887. writers like Pittendreigh MacGillivray, R. L. Cassie, J. G. Horne: James Pittendrigh MacGillivray (1856–1938), Robert Lawson Cassie (1859–1938) and J. G. Horne (fl. 1905–36), author of A Lan’wart Loon: A Poem in Scots (Porpoise Press, 1928). All three writers championed the writing of Scots. the propaganda efforts of Douglas Young: Douglas Young (1913–73), translator and Scottish nationalist. Young contributed to various Scottish periodicals, and translated poems from multiple languages, including Gaelic, various European

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languages and Chinese, into Scots. Young did much to demonstrate the vibrancy of Scottish literature in Scots, and to show its international reach and connections. the Norwegian landsmaal: a standard of written Norwegian developed in the nineteenth century as an alternative to Danish, which was commonly used as the language for writing in Norway at this time. Murison draws a comparison here between that movement and MacDiarmid’s attempts to revive Scots as a language suitable for literary writing. Maurice Lindsay: Maurice Lindsay (1918–2009), poet, historian and broadcaster. As an editor, Lindsay had helped introduce readers to a number of writers working in Scots through his anthology, Modern Scottish Poetry: An Anthology of the Scottish Renaissance, 1920–1945, published by Faber and Faber in 1946. At around this time Lindsay began writing poetry in Scots, publishing a collection in 1948 entitled Hurlygush. Sangschaw, Penny Wheep: Hugh MacDiarmid’s two collections of Scottish lyrics, published in 1925 and 1926 respectively. The antagonists (eg. Sir James Fergusson): James Fergusson (1904–73) commented in a BBC broadcast in 1946 that the Scots of MacDiarmid and others should be called ‘plastic Scots’ because it bore no resemblance to any language spoken or written in Scotland. Fergusson was not alone in opposing MacDiarmid’s approach to reviving Scots. their reports on Primary and Secondary Education: Murison served on the government’s Advisory Committee as a delegate of the Educational Institute of Scotland. There was much difficulty in getting the Committee to come to any definite position on most educational matters, and any reforms agreed struggled to make way under the weight of government bureaucracy. I should see Miss Jackson: it has not been possible to identify this individual.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Jean Roger No address MS: Privately held, used by kind permission of Neil Roger 12 January 1952 My dear Jean, You couldn’t have sent a better Christmas Card than the Shetland snaps. Thank you so much. They are really very good and we are so glad to have them. We were glad to have your letter yesterday too. How you ever find time to write at all I do not know. You’re a wonder. Imagine John being such a lively lad. It will be most interesting to watch the differing development of the pair of them. They seem to have different temperaments. The very tiny snatch of news you give me about school makes me long to hear more of how Neil and Lindsay are getting on there. Life must be full of new experiences. Deirdre, I hear, is writing a book! It contains the

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192   nan shepherd’s correspondence history of her holiday in Aberdeen last summer. I hope it reaches completion and we are allowed to read it. It will be most revealing to see where she puts the high lights. I wonder if Grant knew that the old ladies, the two sisters who were burned to death in the tea room on the roadside South of Aviemore, were my Mrs. Sutherland’s sisters? The tea room was an extension of the old cottage in which they were all brought up. It was a dreadful shock to them when they heard that the place had gone up in flames. They saw the reflection of the fire without knowing what it was that was burning. – We saw Grant’s back in the Illustrated London – an unmistakeable broad back shoring up the mountain! Mary and I have had a very happy Christmas time, not exciting, but full of pleasant visits and visitors. Now we are settled back into routine, which I am to break on Friday by going to Elgin to speak on Poetry Today in Scotland. Don’t know when I’ll be in Edinburgh again. May you all have a good spring. The young ones will be a year old before you know it. Goodness! Love to you all from us both. Nan. Notes the pair of them: Jean’s two sons, John and Neil. Deirdre: Deirdre Clouston, daughter of Sheila Clouston (1918–92), and Jean’s niece. the two sisters who were burned to death: it has not been possible to identify these individuals. Grant was Jean’s husband. Mary and I: Mary Lawson (1884–1976), Shepherd’s housekeeper and companion.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Neil Gunn Address from: Dunvegan| West Cults| Aberdeen MS: National Library of Scotland, Dep. 209, box 19, folder 7 12 January 1953 Dear Neil, How you grow in stature! It’s not only that this latest book contains the secret word – the way in that the initiate learns how to find – the water of a well that isn’t there, the subtle peal that was along the Silver Bough, the ‘pause of understanding that was pure freedom’ – when I read a phrase like that it is no longer a book that I am holding, it is naked spirit. It’s not only that, but this time as never before (I think) you have wrought every strand, every touch, shape, colour, shade, into a stilled and completed

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form: as though you had wrestled with a meaning and compelled it and it obeyed you. I feel that this book is to your work what the Quartets are to Eliot’s – something you have been feeling your way towards that has at last taken form for you. For me the essence of the meaning lies in the nothingness that is also participation. One finds that in those lonely moments on the open moor, when flesh falls away, transcends itself and one is out of the body: as the old man wanted death to come. That’s easy: a beatitude: an ecstasy. What isn’t so easy is to strip oneself even of that, to go back to the unbeatified strife of human wills and desires and misconceptions – strip oneself of one’s will, one’s desire, one’s conception of what life should be – and out of that nothingness also find participation. What a fool I am to draw the wits out of your lovely fable: as though it did not say for itself all it needs to say. But thank you for it. I saw the play too and meant to write about it, but you know what an unaccountable off-putting craitur I am. I loved the first act but felt the vision was cheapened by not staying a vision – you weave your spells by the way you twist gossamers of words together – the thing is said – the incantation uttered – for me the spell ended when it ceased to be merely incantation. But the stage is a whole problem in itself. I hope your lonely land is kind to you. Ever Nan Notes this latest book: Gunn’s novel Bloodhunt, published by Faber and Faber in September 1952. the Silver Bough: an earlier novel by Gunn, published by Faber and Faber in 1948. the Quartets are to Eliot’s: Four Quartets, a series of four poems by T. S. Eliot, published as a set in 1943 and considered by many to be the poet’s last great work. as the old man wanted death to come: Sandy, the protagonist of Bloodhunt, who lives in an isolated croft. Old and tired, he wants ‘death to come to him in a way which he would arrange, his own secret way’. I saw the play too: Beyond the Cage, performed at the Edinburgh International Festival in 1952 by the Wilson Barrett Company. It was also performed in Glasgow at the Alhambra.

From: Neil Gunn, to Nan Shepherd Address from: Kerrow House,| Cannich,| Beauly MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 26900, f. 134 19 January 1953

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194   nan shepherd’s correspondence Dear Nan, You are companionable & rare. By so much insight I am moved, for so little of a fable is seen that a fellow might be writing it for himself, than whom there can be none more tiresome. No wonder he has talked of giving it up. But, faith, he has to earn his bread somehow, and so the tale goes on. But a letter like yours is the birch tree itself & the afterglow through & beyond it. And it doesn’t matter at all that you exaggerate. Indeed as to what it’s all about you can’t. If I know anything about it. Though I was visited once by the notion of watching innate goodness behave in illegal ways; trying to see if it is innate, primordial & not just Xian. Dear me! About that play [in another hand is inserted /Bloodhunt/] – I think I gather what you mean. But when I saw it on the boards first time – it’s just beyond explaining in a small note what happened to my expectations. It was quite extraordinary. Your comment on ‘the vision’ just shouldn’t have any relevance. These young English players were so pleased to make ‘a tone poem’ – of what should have been at times broad comedy. But I’m not starting! Thank you, then, for your beautiful letter. It may inspire me to write another book in the hope of getting another letter. And you needn’t call that exaggeration. Yours, Neil. Note About that play: the insertion here is likely wrong, as Gunn’s novel Bloodhunt (1952) was never adapted for the stage. Beyond the Cage, however, was written by Gunn as a play, and was performed at the 1952 Edinburgh International Festival by the Wilson Barrett Company. It was also performed in Glasgow at the Alhambra.

From: Agnes Mure Mackenzie, to Nan Shepherd Address from: 19 Lonsdale Terrace, 3 MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2750/41 12 April 1954 My dear Nan, Many thanks for the fascinating book, which has some queer parallels to Celtic and Scandinavian stuff, though the American has a curious heavy brutality that you don’t norma [sic] get in the European. Plenty of vitality, but no joy. I hope you are still having both! I remember the White Hart quite well. Salisbury is a bonny place, though not my favourite English cathedral,

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which I think is Gloucester. Perpendicular may be a low taste, but I like it. You have been getting an awe-inspiring amount into the time. We are up to the neck in spring-cleaning, and a breakdown of the vacuum cleaner would naturally coincide with (a) the Spring Holiday, and (b) the Sweep. J. S. T. kindly came to the rescue with hers, so we hope to proceed tomorrow to upheave the sitting room and cope with our acreage of curtain and carpet. Our own bedrooms are done and gleam encouragelingly [sic], and our Underground has been attended to. I feel rather ninetyish, but will probably survive. At least I have just achieved one of the major moments of the domestic week, hauling up the pulley with all the nice clean ironing! It’s a bright day, with intermittent black cloud, hard on the nerves of all the little shop-girls and clerks who naturally want to wear their spring hats for HIM. I do hope it all keeps fine for them. There are about ten impromptu football games going on and getting richly intermixed. My long nephew has just returned from playing Wales at Cardiff, having had to rise at five (first morning of summer time) and stand from Crewe to Carstairs. Blessed is youth. Jock is being tea’d by an H. M. I. S. preparatory to a course at Dundee, and be damned to them they have asked ME to open it. Jock did her best and told them it wasn’t my pidgin, but the Lit lecturer hurled that ancient crime my Sc. Literature at her I’m half touched and half exasperated – it is not a good book and I know it, but thought it was decently dead. Kinsley’s Courtly Poets in fact were a sort of penance – I think I have made a respectable job of them. Anyhow, I am in for Dundee. The Lindsay Preface is at the printer, by the way. I don’t know it is good but unexpectedly I enjoyed doing it, though I don’t like Lindsay. At the moment I have only two lectures and two speeches on my plate, but I’m keeping my fingers crossed. Just coped with one Dutch and one French student, both (in Beyden and Paris) doing Scots subjects. So is a friend of the French girl. I made over £20 for the Saltire last summer doing (repeated) Festival lectures at the Land, which certainly is a pleasing setting for the tuppence coloured, so I am repeating it with Edinburgh in the time of Queen Mary. I once did quite a lively article on it (in a rather heavy air-raid, I remember) so have only to pad it with some Extract of Pageant. I don’t think these things are much use in themselves, but they do act as bait for something that might be useful, and anyhow, the Saltire can do with the cash! Carvel is buttoned into a ball as if it were midwinter, but uncoils to send his respects to Mrs Tiddles. Alice says that Leith is improving, but with a long way to go, poor lamb. We were both so sorry. I am very fond of Leith, and poor Alice has had such a lot of bother and upset lately, with one thing and another. The first two sentences of this paragraph have just caught my eye, and I can see the red ink Think this over that would have greeted their perpetration by a student!

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196   nan shepherd’s correspondence But I really am growing senile these days. Even a new spring rig in which I rather fancy myself – a peach-colour nylon blouse for the public good and a hat that will need a bit of living up to for mine – leaves me feeling chastened. In between bo/u/ts of scratching. Either furniture polish or detergents has edged my hands with a horrid tickly rash, bad for morale and much worse for the temper or the aesthetics. And there is a LOT of paint still to come, and as Jock is already doing the floors and putting on a smelly but effective polish (do you know Non-Skid) which does not need rubbing and leaves a lovely glaze, I must in decency take on the paint. And this is the season when our handsome panelling is less of an asset than I normally find it. Faur ye weel, and thanks once more. I hope you go back refreshed to the Summer Term. Yours, M Notes the fascinating book: it has not been possible to identify this. J. S. T.: Jean Smith Templeton, one of Mackenzie’s oldest friends. There are about ten impromptu football games going on: Mackenzie’s flat on Lonsdale Terrace backed on to the Meadows, which was and remains a popular outdoor space for games and gatherings. My long nephew: John ‘Johnny’ Archie Mackenzie (1925–2017) who played at outside right for Partick Thistle, where he spent most of his playing career, and Scotland, by whom he was capped nine times. In 1954 he represented his country at the World Cup, held in Switzerland. There was no football match played between Wales and Scotland in Cardiff on 11 April 1954, though there was a rugby union match played on 10 April in Swansea as part of the 1954 Five Nations Championship. It is possible that Agnes Mure Mackenzie has confused the sports. Jock is being tea’d by an H. M. I. S.: Jean ‘Jock’ Mackenzie, Agnes Mure’s sister and companion. Her Majesty’s Inspectorate of Schools was apparently courting both sisters. that ancient crime my Sc. Literature: An Historical Survey of Scottish Literature to 1714 (1933). Kinsley’s Courtly Poets: James Kinsley (1922–84), scholar and editor, who was at this time working on Scottish Poetry: A Critical Survey (1955). Mackenzie contributed an essay on ‘The Renaissance Poets: (1) Scots and English’ (pp. 33–67). The Lindsay Preface: Mackenzie wrote a ‘Critical Introduction’ to James Kinsley’s edition of Sir David Lyndsay’s work (under the name of David Lindsay), Ane Satyre of the Thrie Estaits (1540). The edition was published in 1954.

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Festival lectures at the Land: Gladstone’s Land, a seventeenth-century building on the Royal Mile in Edinburgh. a pleasing setting for the tuppence coloured: a colloquial expression meaning ‘the upper classes’. The phrase had its origins in the toy theatres of the nineteenth century which came with printed sheets for characters, props and scenery at a price of a penny for plain black and white, or tuppence for coloured versions which were considered superior. Edinburgh in the time of Queen Mary: from The Scotland of Queen Mary and the Religious Wars, 1513–1638, published in 1936. Mackenzie’s lecture ‘The Edinburgh of Queen Mary’ was delivered at Gladstone’s Land as part of the 1954 Edinburgh Festival, with the text being published by the Saltire Society in 1958. a lively article on it: possibly a reference to Mackenzie’s article, in the Aberdeen University Review, called ‘The Saltire Society: its Background and Purpose’ (volume 30, number 90, 1944). some Extract of Pageant: a reference to Scottish Pageant, published in four volumes. It was originally published between 1946 and 1950, and a second edition had been printed in 1952. Carvel is buttoned into a ball: a reference to the names of Mackenzie’s and Shepherd’s respective cats. Alice says that Leith is improving: a reference to Alice Hendry (née Thompson, 1893–1962), a long-standing mutual friend of Mackenzie’s and Shepherd’s. Leith was Alice’s husband, James Leith Hendry. His recovery did not last long, and he died on 20 April 1954.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Neil Gunn Address from: Dunvegan| West Cults| Aberdeen MS: National Library of Scotland, Dep. 209, box 19, folder 7 9 July 1954 Dear Neil, The enclosure I send on to you for your interest. I’d given a copy of The Other Landscape to a friend just home after thirty years in Ceylon, who was in the fascinating position of never having read one of your books. She lapped this one up so avidly that I must next send her one of your better ones. . . . Or perhaps it is a failure of apprehension, a blind spot in me somewhere, that makes me hesitate in front of this one. I have to admit that its surrender to me was only partial. I understood the ‘other landscape’, yes. Yet the fable of the tale seemed to me to be struggling to express either something that wasn’t in it or else something that I can’t understand. Forgive my imperfect sympathies. I can get through to the other landscape, but I can’t get through by the particular door you open here.

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198   nan shepherd’s correspondence Though probably by this time you’ve forgotten that door and are off and away through quite another door and plunged into quite another landscape. Power and beauty be on it! Ever Nan. And having written this, I feel I have been carping: for there are things in the book that go straight home. Note The Other Landscape: Neil Gunn’s recently published, and last, novel.

From: Neil Gunn, to Nan Shepherd Address from: Kerrow House,| Cannich,| Beauly MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 26900, f. 135 17 July 1954 Dear Nan, Please convey to your friend Joyce my acknowledgements of her understanding, which was so unusual, even solitary, that I might, with propriety I hope, send her my love. From which you may deduce that the critics have sat on me good & hard. They have, and one London critic in particular had only to dip into the book here & there to make a real dog’s breakfast of it. So I’ve been in the wars. No, I’m afraid I’m not busy with any new book. Not that I would suggest that the critics have finally wearied me of the whole doubtful business! But wisdom comes from many quarters. Anyway, my bread & butter comes from America now & then, a fine country with wealthy magazines. It sets life fair. I do indeed appreciate your own attitude to ‘The Other Landscape’, and I confess I always look forward to your letter. That there may never be an occasion for another is a disturbing thought. All the same, Yours ever, Neil. Notes your friend Joyce: it has not been possible to identify this individual. the critics have sat on me good & hard: a reference to the treatment received by his latest book, The Other Landscape, published in 1954. The reviewer for the

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Times Literary Supplement was not gentle, writing that it ‘is so heavily charged with atmosphere and symbolism that it is sometimes hard to know what he is aiming at’ (19 March 1954, p. 181).

From: Nan Shepherd, to Helen B. Cruickshank Address from: Dunvegan| West Cults| Aberdeen MS: Edinburgh University Library Centre for Research Collections, Gen 1966/1–35, 25 21 November 1954 My dear Helen, Is there any more news of your volume of poems? You were, I think, to have me sent a prospectus, or order form or something, but I haven’t seen it. And I’d like it, if it’s to be available, as a Christmas Card. I’d like four copies – no, five. Is it to be ready for Christmas? Or like so much else, be put off and put off and put off ––– I had a long letter from little Mrs. Hogben some time ago. Both he & she seem to have been going through a black patch. She of course is a thyroid case and I gather has rather badly lost her self confidence as a consequence of losing her superabundant thyroid essence. It’s such a slow miserable business, finding one’s balance again after an endocrine disturbance. Marion Clarke writes full of serene happiness in her flat and her work. She was asking for you. Much love, my dear. Either tell me, or ask your publishers to send me a prospectus, about the book. Ever yours Nan [Order form enclosed with the letter, for the amount of £1-11-3 for 5 copies of ‘Sea Buckthorn’ published by H. T. Macpherson] Notes your volume of poems: Sea Buckthorn, published by H. T. Macpherson of Dunfermline in 1954. little Mrs. Hogben: likely a woman with close ties to the Saltire Society; Mr Hogben would shortly be invited to become involved in the sub-committee tasked with awarding the Society’s ‘Book of the Year’ prize. Marion Clarke: likely Marion Clarke, who was born in 1900 in Stornoway. It is probable she became friendly with Agnes Mure Mackenzie, who was also from the town, and through her, a friend of Nan Shepherd. Further details remain elusive.

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From: Agnes Mure Mackenzie, to Nan Shepherd Address from: 19 Lonsdale Terrace. 3 MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2750/42 18 January 1955 My dear Nan, Many thanks from us both for the delightful assortment, from bottle to works, is from foot to mouth. The Strikings combine grace and utility, the cast book is enchanting, and the Christie one evocative. The bottle of lavender most soothing to the senses, and the post cards a pleasing surprise – I had no idea that ceiling was so fine. It should make a lovely home for the Saltire, and I hope the Branch takes root there and grows strongly. I hope it has not been too heavy a term. The sheer atmospheric pressure of this year, in the literal physical sense, makes everything hard going. We have had a surprisingly busy time, Jock with a hundred Saltire jobs, from buttering scones to coping with Education Authorities – the Lanarkshire one, bless it, has asked for a special treat counter at Hamilton or Wishaw, & East Lothian has borrowed our book Exhibition. Lanark should bring the number of teachers up to 500, with luck, and 500 of the pick of that kind can do a bit. I have been lecturing & odd-jobbing. Increasing deafness was making it very difficult: but I have got an electric gadget that really does work. I’m not normal, but I’m as good as I used to be, & it gives natural sound, including music. I realise now how bad I have been. It takes some getting used to hearing again, and translating sound into sense needs considerable concentration, which is rather fatiguing, but I expect I shall grow used to it in time, and it does make it possible to go on working. I’ve notice of an Anthology of Scottish Prose for Schools, but its not settled yet. I feel that schoolbooks are the most useful thing I can do, though I suppose this can only be Senior Secondary & can’t reach as many as the little history which now must have served some 30000 pupils. Otherwise there is not much news. The proofs of the Survey of Scottish Poetry are coming in, but I have not seen mine. Chores take longer than they used to – ‘a nimbler race of mice.’ When we can, between jobs & weather, we potter round Edinburgh. It’s a bonny bit. Carvel was much eclipsed by the French cat. Though disqualified for family life, he casts a benign eye on a young and charming Female Feline, and sends greetings to Miss Tiddles. He is at present bulging over the fender-stool. Again many thanks from us both, and good wishes for the New Year. Yours M

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Notes It should make a lovely home for the Saltire: A reference to the Saltire Society of which Mackenzie had been Honorary President. It seems the postcard referred to here was of a building Mackenzie considered suitable as a home for a branch of the Society. Jock with a hundred Saltire jobs: over the course of the 1950s Jean ‘Jock’ Mackenzie became increasingly involved with the Saltire Society until her death in 1960. an Anthology of Scottish Prose for Schools: A Garland of Scottish Prose, edited by James Kinsley (1922–84), to which Mackenzie contributed an essay. The volume was published in 1956. the little history: A History of Britain and Europe for Scottish Schools, published in three parts between 1949 and 1951. the Survey of Scottish Poetry: Scottish Poetry: A Critical Survey (1955). Like A Garland of Scottish Prose, this was edited by James Kinsley. Mackenzie contributed an essay on ‘The Renaissance Poets: (1) Scots and English’ (pp. 33–67). ‘a nimbler race of mice.’: from ‘On a Cat, Ageing’ by Sir Alexander Gray (1882– 1968), published in Gossip: A Book of New Poems (1928). Carvel: the name of Mackenzie’s cat. Miss Tiddles was Shepherd’s.

From: David Murison, to Nan Shepherd Address from: The Scottish National Dictionary| 27 George Square, Edinburgh, 8. MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 27438, item 14 14 January 1957 Dear Miss Shepherd, Many thanks for your letter of the 8th. and for your kind good wishes which I most cordially reciprocate. You will be most welcome to pay us a visit when you are next in Edinburgh and find it convenient to call. As regards ‘Eppie Elrick’, I think one has to bear in mind the essential fact that it is [deletion] /primarily a/ linguistic tour de force, and only secondarily a historical novel. The enormous proportion of dialogue to narrative shows that. And I infer from what Professor Milne has told me himself that it is an attempt to put on record the rich and pure idiom which he learned from various relatives, mostly female (!), and especially an old aunt who was a kind of family retainer for a very great number of years and whom he himself inherited into his own home from his parents’. In answer to your questions, I should say that the Buchan speech has been rendered with the most thoroughgoing accuracy. The spelling is pretty nearly phonetic (Buchan has essentially the cardinal vowels and is fairly simple to spell phonetically), and he does not even adopt the standard spellings, the, there, this, or, him, her, etc. but insists on the less formal and

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202   nan shepherd’s correspondence more colloquially correct, ’e, ’ere, ’is, us, ’im, ’er, except in collocations like i’ the, o’ the, Where he follows the Buchan usage very strictly. With such close attention to minutiae, it is obvious that he is almost pedantically puristic in his accuracy. [Deletion] Spellings like watter, innimy, keeng, pintit (painted) are other examples of [deletion] dialectical fidelity. The dialect of course is really that of c. 1850, as the author would remember it spoken by his aunt.* Palatalisation (the development of a y – sound after certain consonants) is now very much obsolescent in Buchan but was common enough two generations ago as in lyook, skryaach, skyellach, ryaakit, myows. /meows pulls/ though every now and then he slips up and inserts a modern English idiom which sounds very out of place in its very Buchan context. He is very keen too on gnomic or proverbial phrases or on well-established similes and metaphors which he drags into every page practically and very much to the detriment of this style. Indeed it is on style that he falls down really badly. While he has preserved sounds, many individual words (his vocabulary is pretty rich and genuine) and idiomatic phrases to perfection, his zeal for them has made him lard them on to excess. He knows no restraint in the matter and the worst feature of his style is its almost interminable garrulity. With all respect to your sex, it reminds one of those endless female bletherskites who chatter on ad nauseum, repeating themselves constantly, monologuing and soliloquising, labouring every detail and in the end saying nothing but a string of uncoordinated statements with a few very prosy and pedestrian platitudes thrown in. It is hardly possible to explain what I mean here, but you must have already turned to Johnny Gibb as the exemplar for comparison. It is worth reading the extempore prayer of the Rev. Pratt in Chapter xii and the philosophisings of Johnny Gibb in Chapter xliv of their respective volumes to see how one is gauche, garrulous and inept, with an extremely out-of-place comic strain in it (Hogg did this much better in the Brownie of Bodsbeck); the other has an economy, a propriety and a dignity which are quite moving. Eppie entirely lacks the classic restraint and solidity of the prose of J. G. It is on a very much lower and weaker level. But you know all this and I must draw to a close before I get too verbose myself. I hope at least that I have said something relevant to your question. In saying all this rather critically, I am not trying to disparage the Professor’s work. I have said all this to his face and he was quite unshaken, his head hardly bloody and certainly not [deletion] bowed in the least. With all good wishes, Yours sincerely, David Murison *He doesn’t make any attempt to reproduce either accurately or conventionally the Buchan dialect of the 1715 period, as far as it is known.

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Notes ‘Eppie Elrick’: Eppie Elrick: An Aberdeenshire Tale of the ’15 by William Milne (1881–1967), was published by Scrogie in 1955. Milne was a native of Aberdeenshire and educated in part at Aberdeen University. A Professor of Mathematics at Leeds University, Milne retained a lifelong interest in Scottish languages, and served as President of the Buchan Club. Johnny Gibb as the exemplar for comparison: Johnny Gibb of Gushetneuk was a novel by William Alexander (1826–94), appearing in serial form in 1869 before being published as a book in 1871. It was enormously popular, and considered a classic, in part because of its striking Doric opening. Rev. Pratt: Reverend John Burnett Pratt (1799–1869), author of the novel Buchan (1858), set in Aberdeen and based on his antiquarian research on the language of the area. Hogg did this much better in the Brownie of Bodsbeck: James Hogg (1770– 1835), whose first novel was The Brownie of Bodsbeck and Other Tales, published in 1818, and set in the Scottish Borders. The title story focuses on the experiences of the Covenanters in 1685, and draws heavily on local superstitions and customs.

From: Neil Gunn, to Nan Shepherd No address MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 26900, f. 136 The Atom of Delight 27 January 1957 Dear Nan, It was nice to see your writing. I won’t go the length of saying that I’d write a book to get your letter, for that would tie me over fast, & my experience with The Atom has put a full stop to book-making. Not that much was needed. And – apparently like yourself – I am now retired. By ‘experience’ I mean the way the book has been ignored by critics & the law. Which is not a complaint, but a fact that makes sic writing unfruitful to all, for wasn’t it The learned Doctor who knew a man a fool who didn’t write for cash. And I have the by no means unpleasant thought that even while I was writing these turgid (if I may borrow your word) swatches I was fair killing the cash. But don’t think I did it deliberately – which might sound masochistic – but only because I was enjoying myself. To hell with the Pope – or was it Freud? That was the delightful mood. All the same, I think you may be forgetting somewhat how much ideas meant to your early years. And autobiography – if I may use the

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204   nan shepherd’s correspondence word – isn’t a novel exactly. Again, from the beginning systems of philosophy or psychology were troublesome to me for two reasons: because my mind could not accept premises & so got bored, & because (for now we come to it) they did not (necessarily, by structure) stem from their authors’ experiences. So I thought I would write something that did, & even use the earliest experiences to show they persisted & interpreted later ones. Which took me into some weird fields, I admit – knowing all the time that the mixture of categories (autobiography, Freud, &c) would revolt the literary pure of heart, but feeling – & still feeling – it was worth it, poor as the accomplishment was, alas! So, as I say, I have no complaints. Most of us did our stoic best against the laws! And as for poaching forays – I seek for one report in vain. All the same – again – how much I do delight in your quotations. For they show you were there with me – which should make me feel beyond my deserts, even though it doesn’t; for it is a rare country to have someone with the recognising mind in, and even alongside. So you just watch your step. This PEN show – I was never invited as a Guest of Honour. They know better. But George Blake was, & George asked me to support him at his table. And I agreed, having great respect for George himself. Then some fool secretary elevated me – to my annoyance, for George’s exclusive sake. So I have had that put right. Which is an involved way of showing how much I agree with your attitude to sic affairs. Thank you for your beautiful letter. Neil Notes The Atom of Delight: Gunn’s spiritual autobiography, published by Faber and Faber in 1956. The learned Doctor who knew a man a fool: a reference to a quotation of Samuel Johnson’s, included by James Boswell in The Life of Samuel Johnson (1791): ‘No man but a blockhead ever wrote except for money.’ To hell with the Pope: a playful comment on The Atom of Delight, which Gunn seems to think he got carried away with, leaving behind its religious and psychoanalytical premises. This PEN show: Gunn had been invited by Marie Muir (1908–98), children’s novelist and secretary of Scottish PEN, a branch of International PEN, founded in 1927, to be honoured in public. Gunn intensely disliked being so elevated, and declined. George Blake: George Blake (1893–1961), journalist and editor. In the 1930s he was director of Faber and Faber and was involved in the Porpoise Press in Edinburgh; he published a young Neil Gunn’s novel Morning Tide in 1931.

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From: Nan Shepherd, to Lyn Irvine Address from: The Aberdeen University Review| Dunvegan| West Cults| Aberdeenshire MS: St John’s College, Cambridge, NewmanL/A2, 1 9 June 1957 Dear Lyn Irvine, I think you are married, aren’t you, and should be calling you Mrs – New/m/an, is it? But it is the Lyn Irvine of So Much Love I am talking to, and it was as Lyn Irvine I knew you, though slightly: it was Elsa I knew. As you will see from the heading, I am now editing the Aberdeen University Review, and I am writing to ask if you would care to have your book reviewed there? We like always to notice books by Aberdeen graduates. If you’d like it, tell your publishers to send us a copy. If not, I’ll give you a paragraph in the Personalia. Sincerely yours Nan Shepherd And do not forget to pay my respects to that lawyer chiel. We could go poaching, I’m sure. Notes I think you are married: in 1934 Lyn Irvine married mathematician Max Newman (1897–1984), who worked for a time at Cambridge University. In 1945 he was appointed Professor of Mathematics at Manchester University. the Lyn Irvine of So Much Love: Irvine had just published an autobiography, So Much Love, So Little Money (London: Faber and Faber, 1957), in which she recounted, among other things, her youthful experiences in the Aberdeen of which Shepherd had been part. it was Elsa I knew: Irvine’s elder sister, who became a teacher. the Personalia: every issue of the Aberdeen University Review included notices of the activities of the university’s alumni. that lawyer chiel: it has not been possible to identify this individual.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Lyn Irvine Address from: The Aberdeen University Review| Dunvegan| West Cults| Aberdeenshire [on Aberdeen University Review headed paper] MS: St John’s College, Cambridge, NewmanL/A2, 2 21 June 1957

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206   nan shepherd’s correspondence My dear Lyn, Faber have not forgotten: the book came this morning. I’m not telling you what I think of it, because I am going to give myself the pleasure of reviewing it. Books for review usually go to the person one thinks has the best right to the review, and I can’t think of anyone who has a better right than I have myself – Now will you give me a biographical note or two, for the Personalia column. What else have you written, besides Ten Letter Writers? I have that, but I don’t remember anything else, I’m afraid. And, have you any children? And what does your husband do? I feel horribly indecently inquisitive – And then tell me, not for Review purposes, where is Elsa? Still in Switzerland? She was there when last I heard of her, when Mary Kelly gave me her address, which I never used. I’m glad you liked the Agnes Mure Mackenzie sketch. I took a long time to do it. When you do pay that visit to Aberdeen ‘before you die’, come and see me. Ever sincerely yours Nan Shepherd Notes Faber have not forgotten: the book came this morning: Irvine’s new book, an autobiography called So Much Love, So Little Money, had just been published by Faber and Faber. the Personalia column: every issue of the Aberdeen University Review included notices of the activities of the university’s alumni. Ten Letter Writers: Irvine’s first book, published in 1931. The book brought her into the orbit of the Bloomsbury circle. where is Elsa: Irvine’s elder sister, who became a teacher. Mary Kelly: Mary Carmichael Kelly (b. 1895), Shepherd’s cousin and a fellow graduate of Aberdeen University (1916, MA). the Agnes Mure Mackenzie sketch: for the 1955–6 edition of the Aberdeen University Review Shepherd wrote a ‘Portrait’ of her friend Agnes Mure Mackenzie, who had died on 26 February 1955.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Lyn Irvine Address from: Dunvegan| West Cults| Aberdeenshire MS: St John’s College, Cambridge, NewmanL/A2, 3 25 June 1957

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My dear Lyn, Thank you for the biographical information. I have been living this the most delicious re-evocation of your girlhood. I certainly have the ‘right’ to review you in the A. U. R. for the further I went in your book, the more my old self rose up & called you blessed. Sometimes the identification became almost ludicrous, as in that great gashed cleft above Glen Feshie, which I too watched, year after year, filled with depths of a blue that made my heart turn over, from the house at the Newtonmore end of Kingussie, near Pitman Farm, where I used to spend my holidays. And I too dreamed my way into the Cairngorms thro it, & believed it was the entrance to the Lairig Ghru! Then there was Miss Steven (is your spelling right? I’d have said Stephen, but it’s so long ago – tho’ I am 8 years your senior, you know.) Anyway I used to be taken to see Mrs Janet when I was a child. My mother had been educated at her school. And the Abernethys! My father for many years was manager of Ferryhill Foundry and head of its drawing office – my mother was a Kelly, South Church folk except for her brother William, Mary’s father, who had a way of simply walking off from people with whom he disagreed, and not seeing them again. He had done that with some former minister of the South Kirk. I think now that he was very highly sensitised and couldn’t afford the nervous energy to quarrel, so he simply walked away & stopped knowing the cause of friction. It happened with quite a lot of people! And the Grierson girls. I’m so glad that you were most moved by Mollie. To me she was adorable. I never tired of watching her /the/ grace of her movements both of body and of mind. And then, most unexpected of all, your ‘forty-second’ cousin who was born within Lady Bracknell’s prohibited degrees and carried in a Gladstone bag! I can’t even yet remember her name, tho’ I think it was double-barrelled. But she came once or twice in a week to assist in a class in the Training College, where I was already on the staff there and I can still see her skirt left in a circle on the floor where it dropped when she changed for badminton. Other items too that she left around moved Anne Souter (the Prof.’s sister & my dear friend, but still living inside an older convention of feminine behaviour) to an expression of countenance, sorrowful & shocked, that I can still see. I am fascinated, but not surprised, to hear of the lady’s origins. And then – that business of floating. I used to do it too. I used to take flying leaps into the air (always out of doors) and then . . . I was quite convinced that by a movement of my body I could take a second leap without anything but air to take off from. Now I am not so sure; but then I was quite sure that I really did get the necessary purchase from the air itself. Not that I thought out its mechanics! It simply happened. Of course I always had country within easy reach – Cults was really country then – and a large part of my childhood was spent in trees. I can well understand your need to get out of Manchester.

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208   nan shepherd’s correspondence Your book has given me deep delight. – But you didn’t tell me anything about Elsa. Ever sincerely Nan Shepherd Notes this the most delicious re-evocation of your girlhood: Irvine had recently published an autobiography, So Much Love, So Little Money (London: Faber and Faber, 1957). the ‘right’ to review you: the letter makes clear the extensive personal connections between Shepherd and Irvine, but this remark also speaks to Shepherd’s policy as editor of the Aberdeen University Review to carefully pair books with sympathetic and knowledgeable reviewers. the house at the Newtonmore end of Kingussie: Irvine’s family holidayed annually at Newtonmore, staying in villas in the town. Glen Feshie was visible from where Irvine stayed, and she writes in her autobiography how she imagined a cleft in the Glen to be ‘the entrance to the Larig Pass through which ran a rough and arduous footpath to the Linn of Dee’ (p. 123). While Irvine did not attempt the Lairig Ghru, she and her sisters did walk in the hills in the area, becoming known as the ‘Three Graces’ by local landowners (p. 124). Miss Steven: a member of Irvine’s father’s congregation whom Irvine came to know well through after-school visits. During those visits Irvine also became acquainted with Miss Steven’s maid, Janet. the Abernethys: Shepherd’s father, John (1852–1925), was apprenticed at eighteen to the firm of James Abernethy & Co. at the Ferryhill Foundry in Aberdeen. He worked there for many years, gradually making his way up the ranks. When Lyn Irvine’s family moved from Berwick to Aberdeen they lived for a time with the Abernethys. my mother was a Kelly: Shepherd’s mother was born Jeannie Kelly (1865–1950). Her elder brother William (1861–1944) was a prominent architect in Aberdeen and awarded an LLD from Aberdeen University in 1919. the Grierson girls: the five daughters of Shepherd’s teacher and friend Herbert Grierson (1866–1960). Mollie was the eldest, and much admired by Lyn Irvine as a child. Lady Bracknell’s prohibited degrees: from The Importance of Being Earnest by Oscar Wilde (1895). In Act I Jack Worthing relates to Lady Bracknell, who is assessing the suitability of his family, how he came to be discovered by his benefactor in a handbag. Anne Souter: sister of Professor Alexander Souter (1873–1949), Regius chair of humanity at Aberdeen University from 1911. Shepherd and Anne Souter were very good friends. your need to get out of Manchester: in 1934 Irvine had married mathematician Max Newman (1897–1984) who worked for a time at Cambridge University.

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In 1945 he was appointed Professor of Mathematics at Manchester University. Never happy in Manchester, Irvine returned in 1952 to the family home at Cross Farm, near Cambridge. you didn’t tell me anything about Elsa: Irvine’s elder sister, who became a teacher, mentioned in passing at various times in Irvine’s autobiography, but most fully described towards the end as ‘a Nordic goddess of great dignity and inscrutability’ (p. 147).

From: Nan Shepherd, to Lyn Irvine Address from: Dunvegan| West Cults| Aberdeenshire MS: St John’s College, Cambridge, NewmanL/A2, 4 24 August 1957 My dear Lyn, I enclose you a proof of the review. If you see anything that needs adjustment, say so. I’ll change the v to ph, pace Norman Walker! Do you think you’d like to recollect any more Aberdeen experiences, and write them down for the University Review? I’d gladly publish them. Perhaps your University memories, since you were older and the eye was less single, might not have the same compelling lucidity? It might be devastating, to be sure, if they had. How delightful of you to suggest that I might visit you in the old Farmhouse and talk of the things we share. Some day, perhaps. Certainly not this year. But I’d love to meet you some time. Meanwhile, my love to you. Nan Shepherd Notes pace Norman Walker: it has not been possible to identify this reference. to recollect any more Aberdeen experiences: Irvine had studied at Aberdeen University a few years behind Shepherd. visit you in the old Farmhouse: Cross Farm, near Cambridge.

From: Sir Alexander Gray, to Nan Shepherd Address from: 8, Abbotsford Park| Edinburgh. 10 MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 27438, item 15 5 November 1957

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210   nan shepherd’s correspondence Dear Miss Shepherd, Many thanks for your letter which interests me greatly. I am glad to hear that you are editing the University Review; it is a good review, and it will be in safe hands. Yes, I am due to come to Aberdeen in connection with the Library, but the date of this event seems to recede! It moved from the first week of [deletion] October to the end of November, and now it seems to be early in the Year. So far as I am concerned, that is all to the good. I may find time to think what I can possibly say round about the Christmas vacation, if a Professor Emeritus can be said to get a vacation. With regard to your other flattering suggestion, I would gladly help you, and I will gladly help you if I could (or can). But I have not written a rhyme of my own for about 30 years; on that side I just dried up. It was never more than a very exiguous trickle of very thin brew. But I never even ‘see’ a subject for a rhyme nowadays. But in the last six years (or so) I have been giving a good deal of attention to the translation of Danish ballads. I used to publish them in The Scotsman with introductory and explanatory patter; but under its new management they thought that after four years they had had enough of them! One of these ballads, with patter, might make a possible contribution. You may have seen some of them. I published a little book of them called Four-and-Forty which [deletion] (as you may guess) contained 44. The University Library might have a copy. Unfortunately the ones I am doing now are, on the average, longer than the earlier ones. Pergaps [sic] you could let me know whether this might be regarded as suitable, and if so how long you could stand, and I will look through what I have in [deletion] what I call my ‘Posthumous volume’ Unfortunately (from this point of view) some of the unpublished stuff which I have and which, I think, would not be too long, are now in the press and should be published somewhere round about the New Year. But the Edinburgh University Press who are bringing out this small volume of historical ballads have been so slow about it, that I have an uneasy feeling that in 1958, the New Year will fall round about Easter. But if you thought it worth while, I could see whether I have anything suitable in my Wallet of posthumous ballads. With kind regards in which my wife joins me. Yours very sincerely, Alexander Gray Notes in connection with the library: Gray was Professor Emeritus at Edinburgh University, where he had worked since 1935. Prior to that he had been Professor of Political Economy at Aberdeen University. He was to give a speech at the opening

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of the new extension of the King’s College Library, though it would not take place until 7 March 1958. rhyme of my own: Gray published two volumes of his own, typically lyric, poetry in the 1920s, while a collection, Hurlygush, edited by poet, historian and broadcaster Maurice Lindsay (1918–2009), was published in 1948. No further volumes of his own poetry would appear, though Gray continued to write in several other forms throughout his life. the translation of Danish ballads: Gray was a talented linguist, who also translated from Dutch and German to English. He had a long-standing interest in songs and ballads in these languages. I used to publish them in The Scotsman: Gray’s poetry, including ballad translations, appeared regularly in The Scotsman in the 1940s and 50s. Four-and-Forty: Four-and-Forty: A Selection of Danish Ballads Presented in Scots was published by Edinburgh University Press in 1954. are now in the press: a volume, Historical Ballads of Denmark, was published by Edinburgh University Press in 1958. my wife: Alice Gray (née Gunn, d. 1967).

From: Sir Alexander Gray, to Nan Shepherd Address from: 8, Abbotsford Park| Edinburgh. 10 MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 27438, item 16 29 November 1957 Dear Nan, If I may adopt the ways of the younger generation, who have all forgotten the use of surnames, – – – This is not greed but cunning flattery. It is so thrilling to find an appreciative reader! I may send back these six; and perhaps in the end there may not be much brushing up. The theory is that ‘when I have time’ I shall go through the contents of my ‘posthumous works’ and check them up against Grundtvig which is now available, and make them in a fit condition to be deposited in the University Library, if they are not published before my departure. And why any publisher should waste money on what is sure to involve him in loss is beyond me. But in fact although I did not have Grundtvig when I wrote the patter to these, I used editors who had used Grundtvig, and as often as not the result of a check-up is ‘No change’. Still you know what our Presbyterian conscience is in these matters. I agree that Sverkel and his Sister is surprisingly ‘prim’, quite an exception to the [deletion] usual ‘hacking people in pieces sma’’. I enclosed it

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212   nan shepherd’s correspondence because it was short: indeed the only one in my posthumous works that could be called short, and I thought the others might frighten you off. But I see that I have not said specifically what I started off to say, and that is that of course you are welcome at any time to any of these co-called [sic] ‘posthumous’ ones. I used to get one published about every six weeks in The Scotsman, but since the new editor, by way of pulling up the tone of The Scotsman snuffed me out, while I keep on trying to do one a month, they are when finished merely put into the bundle reserved for the purpose; and they may as well be used if any one feels like using them. I shall try before the end of the year to visit the National Library, to see whether I really want to do any revision on these. Yours very sincerely, Alexander Gray Notes I may send back these six: Gray had published a number of Danish ballads but retained several more. These are now in the National Library of Scotland. Grundtvig: N. F. S. Grundtvig (1783–1872), one of the foundational writers of Danish history and literature and one of the most influential figures in Danish letters. Sverkel and his Sister: one of Gray’s Danish ballad translations under consideration with Shepherd. It would be published in the autumn 1961 issue of the Aberdeen University Review (volume 38, number 126, pp. 133–4). the University Library: Gray’s ballads reside not at Edinburgh University Library, but the National Library of Scotland. ‘hacking people in pieces sma’’: from ‘Fair Helen of Kirconnell’ by Sir Walter Scott, included in his second volume of Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border (1802). I used to get one published about every six weeks in The Scotsman: Gray’s poetry, including ballad translations, appeared regularly in The Scotsman in the 1940s and 50s. the new editor: Alastair Dunnett (1908–98), appointed editor of The Scotsman in 1956.

From: Sir Alexander Gray, to Nan Shepherd Address from: 8, Abbotsford Park| Edinburgh. 10 MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 27438, item 17 25 December 1957 Dear Nan Shepherd, I am afraid that I have been a very unsatisfactory correspondent in this matter! Herewith my apologia.

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When I sent you six ballads from my large folder which is entitled ‘Posthumous Works’, I did not flatter myself that you would want more than one, if indeed you would go so far. And I thought that if you [deletion] did screw yourself up to wishing to retain one, I would give it a proper overhaul, in the light of Grundtvig and all the rest. I may say that when I get into a quiet period, one of my major tasks will be to get my posthumous ballads into proper condition, so that my executors may try them on a publisher (which failing, as it will fail) alternatively in a fit condition to be dumped in the manuscript department of the University Library. And I thought that if you could endure one, I might in anticipation of the general overhaul give it a revision now. But I do not think I could just now give this overhaul to six! But I have been to the National Library and consulted Grundtvig; I do not think that the patter really requires any serious revision, with the result that I am sending the lot back to you pretty much as they were. I had dreamed of retyping the ballad of your choice (if you did choose one); but though there are excrescences (such as their place of origin etc), and in the case of Germand Gladensvend I see also a note of ‘things to be cleare/d/ up’; and although this being the duplicate copy, is typed on both sides, contrary to all sound principles, I think it is tidy enough to let you [deletion] get on with all you want. Further defects are that in some cases I have not translated the Refrain (Omkvaed). The fact is that some times the Refrain is so silly with so little relation to the context, that there is a horrid temptation to postpone it: but if you should want one without the Omkvaed, it could doubtless be added (if thought desirable) when you decide. Also in one case I see the glossary has been omitted in the flimsy; but I somehow feel that this is not one you are in [deletion] danger of choosing! And so I hope you will forgive me not retyping the lot. Perhaps I am getting lazy: certainly my days are getting shorter: and I have been busy. I had to give what they call an ‘Address’ to the Scottish Text Society on Monday; and the ballad on which I have been engaged for December called for a rather longish and ticklish patter. So that at the moment I rather shy at any extensive, and possibly unnecessary re-typing. But may I just say that of course you are welcome to these or to any of /the/ provisionally entitled ‘posthumous’ ballads. With all good wishes for a pleasant Christmas season and a prosperous New Year. Yours very sincerely Alexander Gray Notes in the light of Grundtvig: N. F. S. Grundtvig (1783–1872), one of the most influential figures in Danish letters.

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214   nan shepherd’s correspondence be dumped in the manuscript department: Gray’s unpublished ballads are housed, carefully, in the National Library of Scotland. Germand Gladensvend: Gray’s translation of the Danish ballad ‘Germand Gladensvend’, which was published in the Aberdeen University Review in spring 1958 (volume 37, number 118, pp. 271–5). the Scottish Text Society: founded in 1882 to help revive interest in the literatures and languages of Scotland by publishing editions of key texts.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Helena Mennie Shire Address from: Dunvegan| West Cults| Aberdeenshire MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 3047/2/14 26 January 1958 My dear Helena, I ought long since to have let you know how your ship was sailing on my seas. A very lovely ship it is. But I’ve waited hoping to give you the news that I had your review safely netted, and so far it hasn’t arrived. Your friend Mr. Shields refused completely to have anything to do with it, ‘because I am so enthusiastic about this valuable contribution to the published music of that period.’ An odd reason perhaps for refusing, though understandable. He went on to suggest that Mr. Willan Swainson would write a review of it ‘with distinction’, if the University Library were to let him have its copy. I therefore asked Douglas Simpson if he had a copy and whether it could be so used. He said, No, but we’ll get one, and Yes, by all means. So I wrote Mr. Swainson putting the position to him, and asking if he’d review it without the usual courtesy of a presentation copy. – His reply was quite scarifying at the expense of publishers who expected reviews without bricks – I mean without straw – and I thought, Well, that’s that. But in the second par. he turned round completely, and said that in the case of a University he had served, of course he would be delighted. So I told D. S. to send him the Volume – but nothing more has happened. End of January I think I gave him as deadline, so if he makes no more by then I shall ring him up and ask. I’ll let you know – in fact if you like I’ll send you a proof of the review when I get it. Ever yours affectionately Nan Shepherd Notes your ship was sailing on my seas: Musica Britannica: A National Collection of Music, volume 15 of which, Music of Scotland, 1500–1700, had been published in 1957 with song texts edited by Helena Mennie Shire (1912–91). Shepherd is

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referring here to her role of shepherding texts by Aberdeen University alumni to the best possible reviewers; Mennie Shire graduated with an MA from Aberdeen University in 1933. Your friend Mr. Shields: it has not been possible to identify this individual. Mr. Willan Swainson: Willan Swainson (1886–1970), musician. Swainson had been Professor of Music at Aberdeen University until his recent retirement. Douglas Simpson: W. Douglas Simpson (1896–1968), historian, was a graduate of Aberdeen University who returned to the university first as a lecturer in history, then as the university’s librarian from 1926 to 1966.

From: Sir Alexander Gray, to Nan Shepherd Address from: 8, Abbotsford Park| Edinburgh. 10 MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 27438, item 18 10 February 1958 Dear Nan, Many thanks for the proof of the Gam, that evil beast. You have very good and careful printers in Aberdeen. Perhaps I owe you an apology in this matter. My original intention – but I think I have said this already – was that when you had chosen the one you wanted, I would retype it, give it a final polish, and the rest of it; but when you had a kind of a hankering after keeping the half-dozen for the present, my heart quailed before the prospect of re-typing the lot, so I sent them back as they were! (more or less). That is why I left in the reference to the original, which in my copy was merely meant as a guide to me, in my capacity as Editor of my posthumous ballads! But I do not think that Olrik and v.d. Recke should remain where they are, and I have deleted this. [deletion] As these are at present, they would convey nothing to any one. (This is not said in snooty condescension!) But if you want something to indicate where this comes from, I suggest that you might have either a f. n. or a little paragraph in brackets to the following effect: Slightly variant forms of the original may be found in von der Receke [sic]: Danmarks Fornviser, Vol I, p. 175 and in Olrik: Danske Folkeviser i Udvalg, Vol. I, p. 121 It is No 33 in Grundtvig’s authoritative collection. There are earlier translations in George Borrow: The Songs of Scandinavia, Vol. I p. 112 and in Prior: [deletion] Ancient Danish Ballads Vol II, p. 288 But I am not sure that you need all this apparatus in your Review, although it might be highly proper in a volume devoted to an academic study of Danish Ballads. But do as you like.

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216   nan shepherd’s correspondence I shall be sending you for review about Easter my little collection of Danish Historical Ballads with stunning illustrations /by/ Edward Bawden. Yours very sincerely, Alexander Gray Notes the proof of the Gam: Gray’s nickname for the Danish ballad ‘Germand Gladensvend’, which was published in the Aberdeen University Review in spring 1958 (volume 37, number 118, pp. 271–5). Shepherd included only light notes, almost all of them glosses of unusual meanings of familiar words. my little collection: Historical Ballads of Denmark was published in 1958 by Edinburgh University Press, with illustrations not only by Edward Bawden, but also by George Mackie. The illustrations are extremely distinctive, and the front cover striking, indicative of Mackie’s playful style of book design when given licence by the subject matter. Mackie was at one time Nan Shepherd’s neighbour in Cults, and was husband of her friend Barbara Balmer (1929–2017).

From: Sir Alexander Gray, to Nan Shepherd Address from: 8, Abbotsford Park| Edinburgh. 10 MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 27438, item 19 12 March 1958 Dear Nan Shepherd, This is probably an entirely superfluous letter! I was probably a mug to let you have the manuscript of last Friday’s Bla at Aberdeen! But certainly the opening of the extended library, with all its marvels, was certainly a great day in Aberdeen’s history, and requires to be recorded in your University Review. Also one has to be ‘cooperative’ and helpful and all that. But my ‘speech’ or whatever it was is not worth printing; and accordingly, though I cannot plead to be suppressed altogether, do not give your readers more than is necessary. But I leave it to you: it is your business! The library is really a wonderful place: I wish I had it here! But the real reason for my writing to you is to ask you to return my very odd manuscript as soon as you conveniently can. I am suffering from a peculiar obsession at present. I want to leave everything tidy, so that I can clear out at a moment’s notice, leaving no mess behind. This involves among other things tieing up lots of odd papers with clear instructions: ‘Burn without looking at, the moment the pistol is fired’. I hope that this does not sound morbid. I am not really in the least morbid about it; but I recently acted as Executor in a near relative’s estate; and how I wished that he had himself destroyed his rubbish himself, or left me

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instructions about its destruction. It drove me to a pious resolution that I, at least, would do all I could to avoid being a posthumous pest. It was a great pleasure seeing you last Friday; but the weakness of the afternoon festivities was that (as it turned out) I seemed rationed to about three sentences to each of the people with whom I would have gladly welcomed a gossip. Also I am not sure that I said a respectable good-by to any one! With all good wishes, Yours sincerely, Alexander Gray Note last Friday’s Bla at Aberdeen: Sir Alexander opened the new extension of the King’s College Library on 7 March 1958. News of the event was reported in the autumn 1958 issue of the Aberdeen University Review (volume 37, number 119). Gray’s speech was printed in full.

From: Nan Shepherd [the review typed, the personal comments handwritten], to Jessie Kesson No address MS: National Library of Scotland, Acc. 13722, box 2, folder 1 [Spring 1958] THE WHITE BIRD PASSES. Jessie Kesson. Chatto and Windus. 12s 6d Many people in the North-East must have heard Jessie Kesson broadcast and have wondered whether the seductive husky voice, the bubbling immediacy, could be caught between the covers of a book. Here is the book; and the immediacy is here. The book has indeed a terrible authenticity – a casehistory, a study of deprived childhood; but it is a case-history that every social worker ought to read, as a reminder that the ‘case’ may have its own unquenchable sources of life. The child of the study is verminous, hungry, half-sarkit, but beloved; and if the purist objects that no mother could love the child she allows to exist in such conditions, Mrs Kesson knows that there is a nurture simply in the mother’s physical beauty, and in the ballads and tales she can tell – ‘You have the best stories, Mam.’ The child’s love for her mother is of a quality one does not forget. Overhearing two bystanders talking of a sudden death, Janie is struck with terror and sacrifices her coveted ‘shottie’ in the children’s game, and runs blindly home, to make sure that her mother is still there, is still alive. And when the ‘Cruelty Man’ has taken the child away, she waits in vain at the Orphanage for her mother’s promised visit; when at last she comes, drained

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218   nan shepherd’s correspondence by disease of looks and of vitality – ‘I thought your Mam was awful bonnie, Janie,’ says another child accusingly. For Janie it is the end of innocence. In the choice of such moments of revelation, Mrs Kesson shows herself an artist. She can turn a phrase too – the child ‘stood fiercely absorbing the dump’ – and her chorus of women in the Close has an almost hieratic quality. She is indeed a better artist than she allows herself to believe, in that she creates her milieu with a couple of touches and then adds further (and needless) detail to what is already secure. It is a narrow world, but immensely old; animal, but vehement with life. What Janie knew, even more than what Maisie knew, might well contaminate the clear spirit. It is the measure of Mrs Kesson’s achievement that it does not. [End of typescript and beginning of handwritten part] We leave Janie knowing that she will escape from her horrible world; but the cost of the escape is not in the book. I’m so glad you have had such a good reception for the book. This is a copy of the notice I’m putting in the Aberdeen University Review. Not, I’m sorry, till November – one issue is just out and we have only two in a year. Did you succeed in hearing the Talk on your book in Scots Art and Letters? – Know you don’t easily get the Scottish Service. Alexander Scott gave you a glowing review – I hope he sent you the script of it. Ever yours Nan Shepherd Notes THE WHITE BIRD PASSES: Shepherd’s review of Kesson’s (1916–94) semi-autobiographical novel was published, as printed here, in the autumn 1958 edition of the Aberdeen University Review (volume 37, number 119, p. 389). What Janie knew, even more than what Maisie knew: a reference to the novel by Henry James (1843–1916), What Maisie Knew (1897), about the daughter of narcissistic parents. Scots Art and Letters: Scottish Art and Letters was a radio programme broadcast by the BBC. Alexander Scott: Alexander Scott (1920–89), poet and dramatist. Scott, like Kesson, wrote drama for radio broadcast, many of them in Scots. With academic credentials through his position at Glasgow University, he was an ideal reviewer for Kesson’s new work.

From: Sir Alexander Gray, to Nan Shepherd Address from: 8, Abbotsford Park| Edinburgh. 10 MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 27438, item 20 4 July 1958

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Dear Nan Shepherd, It is truly an awful thing to see one’s flippancies and Bla in cold print after four months. I have slightly more difficulty now in reading small type, and occasionally I read things ‘wrangously’; but I think you have got all the necessary corrections. I think I have only put my pen to paper at two places. (i)  At the right hand end of line 32 (or thereabout), after the word ‘University’, there was a squiggle which might have been a comma, or a semi-colon, or nothing at all. I think I prefer nothing at all! (ii)  About 12 lines from the end of the second galley, I think the ) should move forward from being after ‘train’ to being after ‘Professor’. But it is anyhow an awkward sentence, though perhaps not so awkward when spoken as when read. Also I suppose at the very end I may have said, or ought to have said: I have much pleasure in declaring this extension open. Or something like that: but we are better without it. Thank you so much for your care in all this. Yours sincerely, Alexander Gray. Notes declaring this extension open: the opening of the new extension of the King’s College Library on 7 March 1958, at which Gray had spoken. His speech was printed in full in the autumn 1958 issue of the Aberdeen University Review (volume 37, number 119) – the ‘flippancies and Bla’ that he laments here. It appears from this letter that Shepherd sent him the proofs for that issue.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Jessie Kesson Address from: Dunvegan| 503 N. Deeside Rd.| Cults| Aberdeen MS: National Library of Scotland, Acc. 13722, box 2, folder 1 6 January 1959 My dear Jessie, I saved this newspaper cutting for you some weeks ago, meaning to send it along with a Christmas letter. But the Christmas letter never got written. I was snowed under with all sorts of things – and there, I needn’t think up excuses, need I? I just didn’t write. But I had kept the bonny pictures of Bella and Elsie, and all the fine wordies forby.

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220   nan shepherd’s correspondence They are living I understand (but this you probably know) in a cottage at Torphins. Torphins seems to be a very favourite resort for elderly retired people. Half a dozen of my acquaintances have gone there to spend their retirement and there must be many more that I do not know. I was there last night (driven in the dark over icy cross-country roads by the Culter miller) to give a talk on Scottish ballads to the Torphin’s Men’s Social & Business Club – no wives admitted, nor wifies either, except on the rare occasions when they invite a woman to speak. I stipulated that they’d find a man to sing some Bothy Ballads & they found one – a young farmer whose farm was up a grey rock roadie & who not only sang things like the Barns of Dalgety as though he were seated on a camkist drumming his heels against its side [letter ends abruptly] Notes Bella and Elsie: Bella Walker (1887–1962) and her lifelong companion Elsie Moffatt (1894–1985). The two women helped manage St Katherine’s Club in Aberdeen which ran the hostel where Kesson resided while she attended school in the early 1930s. Although Kesson intensely disliked the hostel, she found firm friendship with Walker and Moffatt, who befriended Kesson in what was for her often a very unpleasant time as a young woman in the early 1930s. the Barns of Dalgety: ‘The Barnyards of Delgaty’ is one of the most famous bothy ballads, a type of song traditionally sung by farm labourers from the north-east of Scotland.

From: Sir Alexander Gray, to Nan Shepherd Address from: 8, Abbotsford Park| Edinburgh. 10. MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 27438, item 21 21 January 1959 Dear Nan Shepherd, Forgive me if I trouble you and pester you probably unnecessarily! We had a correspondence which began on 1st November, 1957, and petered out (on this side) in the latish spring of last year, when the ugly Gam appeared in the Aberdeen University Review. I have no office equipment and no private secretary, and especially in my dotage I keep my papers in a most amateurish and hugger-mugger way. It may be that the answer to the question I am now asking is contained in your letter of the 14th March last, but I cannot be sure that I have my file complete! You said in that letter that you were keeping Sverkel and his Sister and Oluf and the Trolls, for possible future use in the Review. I hope that this is so, but I should just like you to confirm this

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The reason for this pestilential question is thuswise: I have a letter from Norman MacCaig who has been asked by the Arts Council to prepare an anthology of living Scottish ‘Poets’. I have really nothing in my cupboard to offer him except some recent Danish ballads, and perhaps a few other fragments. It is rather difficult to find a suitable ballad for this anthology, for though my Posthumous Ballads are now quite a stoutish volume, they tend to be rather long, or to call aloud for explanatory Patter, and this one could hardly be introduced in such a ballad /an anthology/ as Norman MacCaig seems to have been called upon to produce. I hope very much that you find a use for Sverkel and for Oluf and the Trolls, but I should be glad to know if you would confirm what you seemed to say in your letter of 14th March, that you make no claim at present on any more (though of course they are all yours any time you want them.) With kindest regards to Aberdeen and yourself. Yours very sincerely Alexander Gray. Notes the ugly Gam: Gray’s nickname for the Danish ballad ‘Germand Gladensvend’, which was published in the Aberdeen University Review in spring 1958 (volume 37, number 118, pp. 271–5). keeping Sverkel and his Sister: these are other Danish ballads translated by Gray and considered by Shepherd for inclusion in the Review. ‘Saint Oluf and the Trolls’ was published in the spring 1959 issue of the Aberdeen University Press (volume 38, number 120, pp. 18–21). ‘Sverkel and his Sister’ was published in the autumn 1961 issue of the Aberdeen University Review (volume 38, number 126, pp. 133–4). Norman MacCaig: Norman MacCaig (1910–96), poet. An anthology edited by MacCaig, Contemporary Scottish Verse, 1959–69, appeared in 1970, published in London by Calder & Boyars. Gray’s poetry was not included.

From: Sir Alexander Gray, to Nan Shepherd Address from: 8, Abbotsford Park| Edinburgh. 10. MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 27438, item 22 24 January 1959 Dear Nan, This is [deletion] /most/ exemplary punctuality! First of all, to dispose of the Sanct and King.

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222   nan shepherd’s correspondence In the ontroductory [sic] patter, a) should be moved forward to the preceding line: this is mea culpa. In the Refrain after the last verse, introduce a, just for the sake of uniformity with the Refrain after the first verse! Otherwise it is all right. I admit that in v. q 23, I am tempted to replace the word ‘tail’ by a coarser and more vigorous word, which is hardly regards as coarse in the N-E. But I must remember that this is designed to appear in the Aberdeen University Review. In the same verse, also, I have always been troubled as to how to spell ‘birse’. We always pronounced it ‘Birze’, and left to [deletion] myself I would opt for a ‘z’; but Jamieson seems to give the preference to ‘s’, so we may as well follow authority! Surely, surely, keep Sverkel as long as you like. I do not suppose that Norman MacCaig will in any case want any of these ballads for his anthology: they are all too long for his purpose, and he has got a big enough choice anyhow. I am greatly interested in learning that R. L. Mackie is doing the Review of this last book. I hope he does not tick me off for being ‘flippant’, ‘facetious’ etc. etc, which seems to be what serious-minded [deletion] young men think of me. Also I corrupt those around me. Alexander Scott thinks that the illustrations are caricatures; but he does not blame the artists. They were misled by my behaviour in treating the kings as comic instead of tragic figures! I would have expected better things from an Aberdonian like Alexander Scott! With all good wishes, Yours always, Alexander Gray. Did I, or did I not, send a glossary for this Ballad? I presume that it has been omitted designedly, because your audience is so elect and select that it would be an insult to offer them such adventitious aids! A. G. Notes to dispose of the Sanct and King: Gray is discussing here alterations to the proofs for his ballad translation ‘Saint Oluf and the Trolls’, published in the spring 1959 edition of Aberdeen University Review (volume 38, number 120, pp. 18–21). Gray kept the word ‘tail’. Jamieson: Robert Jamieson (1772–1844), ballad collector. As well as collecting Scots ballads, Jamieson wrote and published on Scandinavian ballad tradition, including in 1806 two volumes on Popular ballads and songs, from tradition,

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manuscript, and scarce editions, with translations of similar pieces from the antient Danish language and a few originals by the editor. keep Sverkel: ‘Sverkel and his Sister’, a Danish ballad translated by Gray that was published in the autumn 1961 issue of the Aberdeen University Review (volume 38, number 126, pp. 133–4). Gray was at this time concerned about having sufficient material to honour his commitments to the Aberdeen University Review, and to have some to offer the poet Norman MacCaig (1910–96), who was at this time preparing an anthology of contemporary Scottish poetry. R. L. Mackie: Robert Laird Mackie (b. 1885), poet and historian. His review of Gray’s Historical Ballads of Denmark (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 1958), was published in the spring 1959 issue of the Aberdeen University Review (volume 38, number 120, pp. 58–9). Alexander Scott thinks that the illustrations: Alexander Scott (1920–89), poet and dramatist. Gray is likely referring here to the illustrations for his recent publication, Historical Ballads of Denmark, published the previous year by Edinburgh University Press. The book was illustrated by Edward Bawden and George Mackie, and certainly exhibits a distinctive visual style, though both Bawden and Mackie generally enjoyed acclaim for their striking work.

From: Rachel Annand Taylor, to Nan Shepherd Address from: 14, Jenner House, Hunter St. London, W. E. 1 MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 3036/1 30 August 1959 My dear Nan Shepherd: I did indeed intend to answer your last letter at once. Unfortunately I fell into a worse state of exhaustion than mama. This has been a dreary year for me; for in February I became a victim of the prevalent influenza, a malady which, in London at least, was this time characterised by a certain violence in the occurrence of its Effects, against which I put up no resistance at all, being quite demoralised by the unexpected death of my lifelong friend and confidant, Professor J. A. K. Thomson. However, I was recovering a little when the disintegrating heat wave suddenly broke on this city. It was a singularly oppressive and stifling heat, haunted continually by thunder; and I could hardly get through the days, till the last weekend brought some relief. Let me hastily assure you that you may use whatever you want of my verse, just as much or as little as you please. When you originally asked me to write something about the Professor, I fell into a perplexity as to whether I could or could not. And, since I am very dreamy and absent-minded, the time passed and I came to no resolution, till finally it seemed I could not. – I have been told that Professor Calder declines to write on Ramsay, saying that he knew him too well.

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224   nan shepherd’s correspondence This makes me smile. Oddly enough, I saw a deal of Ramsay, who, though a most entertaining personality, was not exactly good. Well, I am not saying that my Professor was not good; but only that at the end of my life I seem to have known him too well to write the more conventional eulogy, as one approaches the Moment of Truth. However, he had a great gift of Enthusiasm, especially in his Aberdeen years; and, though many others will be glad to say so, perhaps, as the first pupil of his first year as a professor, perhaps I ought to bear some witness. As I shall send you something very soon, and you can work it into your synthesis as you will. I am not so delighted over this anniversary because I have heard that since I last saw King’s a horrible new block of scientific building has sprung up to loom over Tower and Chapel. This is a bitter notion. I feel that I must have given you a deal of trouble by the languors of my melancholia. They tell me you are editing the review with originality and brilliance. My old friend W. A. Rose is an admirer of yours. – Why, I wonder, did you give up literature so early? Repentantly yours Rachel Annand Taylor. Notes than mama: Rachel Annand Taylor’s (1876–1960) mother was Clarinda Dinnie (fl. 1850–76). my lifelong friend and confidant, Professor J. A. K. Thomson: Professor of Classics, and then Professor Emeritus, at King’s College, London. He had very recently died. the Professor: Sir William Mitchell Ramsay (1851–1939), classical scholar and archaeologist. He held a Regius chair of humanity at Aberdeen University from 1886 until his retirement in 1911. Professor Calder declines to write on Ramsay: William Moir Calder (1881– 1960), classical scholar and archaeologist. He worked with Ramsay in Asia Minor, and when Ramsay retired opportunities opened up for Calder, who in some ways took over from the older scholar. Ramsay’s influence remained significant, with Calder publishing in 1923 a volume dedicated to Ramsay, Anatolian Studies Presented to Sir William Mitchell Ramsay published by Manchester University Press. since I last saw King’s: the twentieth century saw a great deal of building on the university campus, with lecture theatres, departmental buildings and halls all being added to the centuries-old buildings such as King’s Chapel (1490s) and the Cromwell Tower (1650s). Annand Taylor is perhaps exercised here by the appearance in 1952 of the Chemistry Building, later the Meston Building. My old friend W. A. Rose: likely William Rose (1894–1961), German scholar who had worked at King’s College, London, the London School of Economics, and the University of London.

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From: Nan Shepherd, to Helen B. Cruickshank Address from: At Rothiemurchas but just waiting for the car to arrive to take me on the first stage of the journey back to Dunvegan MS: Edinburgh University Library Centre for Research Collections, Gen 1929/18 15 29 September [1959] My dear Helen, It has nagged at the back of my mind ever since Festival time that I must write you and explain why I didn’t try to see you or even phone you during the week I was in Edinburgh. I thought often about you, but to be candid I was very tired and had no energy for anything but the programme I had arranged beforehand. – At that point the car arrived and I came home to find your p.c. here before me. I was to go on to tell you that my cousin’s cousin, with whom she shares a house (no longer Murrayfield, but 25 London Rd.) has been obviously unwell for some time but wouldn’t see a doctor, but while I was there her temperature flared and she had to give in, with a low pneumonia that had been going on for awhile. As she had had TB in her younger days we were rather anxious over her. She was taken to a Home and now seems to be well on the mend. I’m sorry about Ian Munro. It must be exasperating to have someone else get in first on the ground you have been preparing, even though his is to be quite a different sort of book. Sorry too that he has suffered this nervous set-back – delayed shock, or whatever it was. He was such a pleasant youth that one regrets he should be disabled. How by the way are the Grieves? Young Duval’s Prospectus is an astounding affair. It must have cost the earth. He tells me that one American University has already bought £200 + worth of books from it, but even that won’t keep him going for very long. Have you still your old lady? Or is all this domestic activity a sign that you are alone again? Anything to be done in a house these days is quite a thought. Yes, I’m chairing the Aberdeen Saltire but luckily have an established and efficient secretary who does the real work. I am glad not to have too much, for that Review really did mean a lot of labour and I was, and still am in spite of my ten days in Rothiemurchas, badly fagged – I don’t want to use my wits at all, but just potter doing the lighter garden jobs! And on Monday I have to go to Echt twelve miles away to talk to the women’s Guild, alackaday, and still alackaday partake of tea beforehand at the Manse. How can one make hostesses understand that talking after a hospitable meal is purgatory –––?

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226   nan shepherd’s correspondence Now I must reply to various elderly Gentlemen who have been sending me their reminiscences of University days as a sort of addendum to the Review. I’ll be faced with the conundrum of whether to publish any of them. You’ve no idea how many elderly, not to say aged, gentlemen are now on my panel of correspondents. The old ladies are less active, possibly because there were fewer of ’em. Love, my dear, and don’t over do yourself. Ever Nan Notes your p.c.: your postcard. I’m sorry about Ian Munro: Ian Sherwood Munro (b. 1914), a mutual friend of Shepherd’s and Cruickshank’s who was appointed as lecturer at Aberdeen University. Shepherd is possibly referencing the work that would eventually result in Munro’s edition of essays and stories by Lewis Grassic Gibbon (James Leslie Mitchell, 1901–35), A Scots Hairst, published in 1967. How by the way are the Grieves?: Cruickshank knew both Lewis Grassic Gibbon and Hugh MacDiarmid (C. M. Grieve) and his family. She remained friendly with the Grieves. Young Duval’s Prospectus: Kulgin Dalby Duval (1929–2016), bookseller. In 1959 he published a prospectus of original materials relating to Robert Burns, all for sale. A prominent career as a bookseller of important Scottish literary remains followed.

From: Sir Alexander Gray, to Nan Shepherd Address from: 8, Abbotsford Park| Edinburgh. 10 MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 27438, item 23 10 November 1959 Dear Nan, I have been a very bad boy, but at least I know it! This letter goes back to yours of the 14th February, though there have been letters since. I seem to have promised that I would write you 1000 words or so on George Adam Smith. Admittedly it was for something in 1960, which is approaching threateningly! I will not have it thought that I am in anything but the best of health. But I have been feckless and fuzhionless all this year, and have just found it impossible to DO anything that looks like work. I have cataract in both eyes, which is a perpetual annoyance, – though it is not really bad. I am

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told I am slightly anaemic, and have rather low blood-pressure. I am not sure that I believe this! All I know is that I get very tired, and when I have walked quarter of a mile, I have done a day’s work. What I have done this year is to revise, retype, and re-arrange my posthumpus [sic] Bloody Ballads. Otherwise I promised to review a book and I promised you 1000 words!. In better days I would have done one of these on a Sunday morning, and the other in the afternoon. Whereas this year these two trifles have been a perpetual heavy-weight on my conscience. This is a shameful egotistical letter of gloating over my sins and my sloth! Forgive me. However I disposed of my review about a month ago; and to come to business, I began the 1000 words on G. A. S. last night! This is just to hope that I am not too late, and to assure you that I will doubtless send you something within the next week. Once a beginning is made, the rest is easy! But probably what I send will not be worthy of your acceptance: it is for you to say. With all good wishes, and very humble apologies, Yours very sincerely, Alexander Gray Notes George Adam Smith: George Adam Smith (1856–1942), geographer and biblical scholar. He had been principal of Aberdeen University from 1909 to 1935. Shepherd had commissioned Gray to write sketches of the principals of Aberdeen University as part of her planned centenary edition of the Aberdeen University Review in the September 1960 issue (volume 38, number 123). Bloody Ballads: Gray was organising at this time his remaining translated Danish ballads with the intention of publishing them, possibly posthumously.

From: Sir Alexander Gray, to Nan Shepherd Address from: 8, Abbotsford Park| Edinburgh. 10 MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 27438, item 24 12 November 1959 Dear Nan, I am much relieved to get your letter. I was afraid that The Great Sloth of 1959, might lead you to say that you had given up hope and had got some-one else to do it. And this would have made me sorry: not that I mind being excluded, but having said I would do it, I do not like not doing it!

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228   nan shepherd’s correspondence This is just to say two things. Firstly, seeing that there is apparently no pressing urgency, I may not send you the stuff as quickly as I indicated. I am afraid that I flattered myself when I said that having got begun, the rest would not take long. The Great Sloth is still upon me! I find that I can only do one little paragraph a day. Thereafter I am impelled to thread nuts for the tom-tits, or engage in some other occupation more suited to my senility. And secondly, you cant get very far in 1000 words!! You speak of ‘sketch portraits of the personalities of the hundred years 1860–1870’. A thousand words may be enough for the rough-and tumble of ordinary professors (if you sink so low!) but it is not enough for G. A. S. who was, I suppose, the greatest Principal of that period. In fact, while I am wrestling along, I realise that I shall on a first shot, considerably exceed my 1000 words. I may not reach 50,000 words nor even 5000, but I shall be well above 1000! But I shall send you what I produce, and you can tell me what you want cut down or cut out: or you may put the whole thing in the waste-paper-basket, saying ‘This is not what I wanted!’ I shall not be in the least hurt! Alas, alas! I shall never again see Lairhillock, or drink whisky there in prohibited hours. They were singularly lax on this point, and it was one of the place’s chief charms. Yours very sincerely, Alexander Gray. Notes I may not send you the stuff as quickly as I indicated: Shepherd had commissioned Gray to write sketches of the principals of Aberdeen University as part of her planned centenary edition of the Aberdeen University Review. Gray was able to submit the piece, which ran to nine and a half printed pages in the September 1960 issue (volume 38, number 123, pp. 314–23). it is not enough for G. A. S.: George Adam Smith (1856–1942), geographer and biblical scholar. He had been principal of Aberdeen University from 1909 to 1935. Smith was included in Gray’s sketches of past principals. Lairhillock: the Lairhillock Inn, thirteen miles south-west of Aberdeen.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Helen B. Cruickshank Address from: Dunvegan| 503 N. Deeside Rd.| Cults| Aberdeen MS: Edinburgh University Library Centre for Research Collections, Gen 1929/18 1 25 March 1960

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My dear Helen, I must snatch a few minutes before our Shetlanders (so soon not the Shetlanders any more) arrive, and time fizzles up as it happens, and there’s no chance to do anything at all! It was such a joy to be with you, and I must thank you very much indeed for your goodness to my ‘boy’. No wonder he says, ‘what a lot of people you know in Edinburgh – it’s very handy.’ I’ll be thinking about you on Thursday and hoping the coffee morning goes with a swing. I have now had time to study the Festival programme and also my own commitments at this end, and I just can’t see how I can carry out my invitation to you to be my guest, if the only things you want to go to are the plays with a Scottish flavouring! I’m going of course to the Wallace but then you say you are to be at its first night, and I am planning my visit round the weekend of Sept. 4 – I want the Indian ballet and the Ballet Europeans and the first night of the Leningrad Orchestra, and then must go home on the Wednesday. Wallace I’ll fit in on the Thurs. or Friday of the previous week, and the only other thing you said you’d like then (barring opera, music and the French play) is the Norwegian Mary Queen of Scots – and do you know, it just doesn’t attract me at all. I may be quite wrong and it may be marvellous, but another Mary play just doesn’t appeal to me – I’d rather go to the Glyndebourne Falstaff. Any good asking you to opera? To any of the operas, not necessarily Falstaff? I’d rather like to see (hear) La Voix Humaine, though I’m not very keen on three shorts in an opera evening. Anyway there it is. I feel bad about giving an invitation and not carrying it out, but if you won’t come to the other things, what am I to do? You won’t come to ballet, will you? I’d be delighted to have you if you would. This morning a big book has come in for review – Burns by Thomas Crawford (O. & Boyd). Do you know anything about Thomas Crawford? So far I can’t think who to offer it to for review. Any suggestions? Would you like to do it yourself? Be sure you let me know if you are to be in the north at all, and come and see me. Till this ‘special number’ is off my back I’m not inviting any one to stay just for the sake of staying, but there’s always a couver for anyone who is in the vicinity. And next year when I’ve no specials to deave me you must spend that weekend you’ve promised me. Much love and in Gratitude Nan Notes our Shetlanders: the Clouston family. Sheila Clouston (1918–92) was the daughter of Nan’s neighbours and friends. The Cloustons were about to move to Banchory in Aberdeenshire.

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230   nan shepherd’s correspondence the Wallace: The Wallace: A Triumph in Five Acts by Sydney Goodsir Smith (1915–75), which premiered at the Assembly Hall in Edinburgh in 1960. the Norwegian Mary Queen of Scots: it has not been possible to identify this performance. the Glyndebourne Falstaff: Falstaff by Verdi, performed by Glyndebourne opera company at the King’s Theatre in Edinburgh. La Voix Humaine: also performed by Glyndebourne. Composed by Francis Poulenc and played at the King’s Theatre as part of a triple bill with Arlecchino by Ferruccio Busoni, and Il segreto di Susanna by Ermanno Wolf-Ferrari. Burns by Thomas Crawford: Burns: A Study of the Poems and Songs, published in 1960. Thomas Crawford (1920–2014) was becoming at this time a key figure in the recent history of Scottish literary studies. He was at this time in the English department at the University of Auckland, New Zealand. He would return to Scotland in 1965 to take up a post at Aberdeen University, where he remained until his retirement in 1985. The book was eventually reviewed by Robert Laird Mackie (b. 1885), poet and historian, in the September 1960 issue of the Aberdeen University Review (volume 38, number 123, pp. 541–3). Till this ‘special number’ is off my back: the centenary edition of Aberdeen University Review in the September 1960 issue (volume 38, number 123), that Shepherd had conceived and then executed. It would be extremely well received, but involved significant additional work for Shepherd.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Helen B. Cruickshank Address from: Dunvegan| 503 N. Deeside Rd.| Cults| Aberdeen MS: Edinburgh University Library Centre for Research Collections, Gen 1929/18 2 3 May 1960 My dear Helen, When Kenneth Alexander rang me up a week ago past Saturday, I had the intention of writing you on the Sunday to ask you here, if you were coming north. I know you said you had had the offer of a bed, but I thought how pleasant it would be to have you here for lunch the following day. But on the Sunday I had to put myself to bed with a silly attack of sickness, and by the time I was sound enough again to bother with letters, the time was so far advanced that I thought it better to wait and see if you were at Stonehaven. And as you weren’t, that was that. It was a heartening meeting – the hall packed – they had to carry in hard forms for people to sit on. And James Mackie’s address was admirable. Simple, short, pregnant and impressive. He tells me it is to appear in the Scottish Field. I wonder if it will read as well as it listened to. I really thought it excellent. I went back to Abdn. with him & he told me that his

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wife was having her fourth baby next month, and another young couple we both know were having their third, and Derrick Thomson (the Celtic man, Gaelic poet) & his wife had their third recently. These intelligent and educated young people seem to have no fear of giving hostages to the grim world ahead. What a blessing. ‘I never set e’en on a lad or a lass’ – I have that bit from Hugh M’D and nearly always quote it when I talk about him. The eternal hope that one of the new babies will have the word we are all waiting for. How are you? Anything more about that head? And how are the Grieves? and Ian Munro? K. A. seemed to think Ian was worse than at first supposed. Our next job will be to get Sheila and her tribe flitted. They’ve got a pleasant house just outside Banchory, with an acre of ground, but alas, not a single offer for their Shetland one. Erlend comes tomorrow on his way back to school. It was very good indeed of Jean Templeton to write me at your suggestion. I did appreciate it, knowing how hard ca’ed she is. As it happened, Marion Lochhead had written the day before at Jean’s own request. Poor Jock – she has been fighting her disabilities very bravely for some time back, but this does seem something of a knock-out. They’re not a longlived family – the brother died at somewhere about 40 or under it, Muriel was only sixty-three or so, and their father couldn’t have been old – he died in the about 1921 – I think – certainly in the earlier part of the twenties. Not that I am supposing Jock is doomed, but plainly she won’t be able for an active self-reliant life after this. And someone to live with her will be a problem. I’m sitting in the garden in the sunshine – birds all round. How good the earth is. I’ve just been reading with deep appreciation the Welsh poems of R. S. Thomas – do you know them? Astringent and beautiful, concentrated and clean. Love to you, my dear. Ever Nan Notes When Kenneth Alexander rang me up: Kenneth Alexander (1922–2001), academic and economist. From 1956 until 1963 he was an academic at Aberdeen University. James Mackie’s address was admirable: despite Mackie’s claim, his address appears not to have been published in the Scottish Field. Derrick Thomson (the Celtic man, Gaelic poet): Derick Thomson (1921–2012), poet and academic, who worked extensively to promote Gaelic literature. He had studied and worked at Aberdeen University. He married Carol Macmichael Galbraith in 1952.

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232   nan shepherd’s correspondence ‘I never set e’en on a lad or a lass’: from To Circumjack Cencrastus, or the Curly Snake, a long poem by Hugh MacDiarmid in Scots, published in 1930. And how are the Grieves? and Ian Munro? K. A. seemed to think Ian was worse than at first supposed: the family of Hugh MacDiarmid (C. M. Grieve), with whom Cruickshank was good friends; Ian Sherwood Munro (b. 1914), a mutual friend of Shepherd’s and Cruickshank’s who was appointed as lecturer at Aberdeen University and was working on the literature of the Scottish Renaissance; and Kenneth Alexander, academic and economist. Our next job will be to get Sheila and her tribe flitted: the Cloustons, who were leaving Shetland to live in Banchory. It was very good indeed of Jean Templeton to write me: likely Jean Smith Templeton, a dear friend of Agnes Mure Mackenzie. Marion Lochhead had written the day before at Jean’s own request: Marion Lochhead (1902–85), writer and social historian; Jean Mackenzie, Agnes Mure’s sister and companion. the Welsh poems of R. S. Thomas: the Reverend Ronald Stuart Thomas (1913– 2000), who wrote poetry in English, having learned Welsh in his thirties. Poetry for Supper was published in 1958, while Judgement Day appeared in 1960.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Helen B. Cruickshank Address from: Dunvegan| 503 N. D. Rd.| Cults| Aberdeen MS: Edinburgh University Library Centre for Research Collections, Gen 1929/18 3 11 May 1960 My dear Helen, It was good of you to write me at such length. Poor Jean – I think she was never fully alive after Muriel died. And as you say, if the mummery of the Office for the Dead gave her satisfaction, may she have it! I think her Church observance meant more & more to her latterly. Muriel of course was devout but never paraded it. Neither did Jean, I know. But there was something dependent about her that found its need supplied in those rites. Yes indeed Saltire will miss her as it has missed Alison and John Oliver. I rang up David Cairns & told him about Jean – he had seen no announcement. Did I tell you that he has asked Lyn Irvine to write a short memoir of Alison & edit some of her letters? Lyn is coming to stay with them in Rothiemurchas in July. She’ll probably be in Edinburgh too, though I don’t know if she has any friend there now that Alison is gone. The L. G. G. exhibition was really no great shakes – not as a Festival item anyway. I thought, too many newspaper cuttings of criticism of his books. The Deeside Field Club is going to Arbuthnott Church for one of its expeditions this summer (first Saturday in August) and I’ve been asked to

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say something about Grassic Gibbon after the minister has conducted the party round the church & churchyard. I haven’t been there since the year of his death, and as I think back over that moving spectacle of Ray carrying the casket against her body as though it had been a baby, I find myself wondering – was it pneumonia that Daryll was so ill of at the time of his father’s death? And I also remember (I think) that you told me that Leslie had had an advance from a publisher (unnamed) for a book he was commissioned to write, & that a few days after the death the publisher, all in the way of good business, wrote and asked for the return of the advance. Is that correct? It’s the sort of detail that would make members of the Deeside Field, many of whom are very far from literary, realize how stiff was a young man’s fight to establish himself and his family through writing. You don’t say how you are but I take heart when I hear you are dancing attendance on spaewives. What did she promise you? I liked Lady Alexander – the Alexander family were wholly delightful, and now alas, all dead. They were the Johnny Gibb Alexanders – the novelist was their uncle. I’m going off for ten days on the 28th. May (to Loch Torridon) – back on the 11th. June when Sheila & family expect to come down. There’s a dinner dance in their honour in the Travel Hotel Lerwick, on Friday first. Doubtless there will be subscriptions to the presentation from doughty farmers who haven’t paid their bills for years! Love as ever Nan. Notes Poor Jean – I think she was never fully alive after Muriel died: Jean Mackenzie, Agnes Mure’s sister and lifelong companion who had recently died. Agnes Mure was known as Muriel by her loved ones. Agnes Mure died in 1955. Saltire will miss her as it has missed Alison and John Oliver: Alison Cairns (1902– 59), a friend and correspondent of Agnes Mure Mackenzie, who had served as secretary of the Saltire publications committee; Dr John W. Oliver was a former president of the Saltire Society. I rang up David Cairns & told him about Jean: David Cairns (1904–92), theologian, Alison Cairns’s younger brother. He held a chair of practical theology at Aberdeen University and published extensively on theological matters. Did I tell you that he has asked Lyn Irvine to write a short memoir of Alison & edit some of her letters: David and Alison Cairns were childhood friends of Lyn Irvine (1901–73). Irvine in turn had attended Aberdeen University and come to know Nan Shepherd. Irvine’s book Alison Cairns and Her Family was published in 1967 by Cambridge University Press. The L. G. G. exhibition was really no great shakes: it has not been possible to identify this.

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234   nan shepherd’s correspondence Arbuthnott Church: Lewis Grassic Gibbon (James Leslie Mitchell, 1901–35), spent his childhood in Arbuthnott in Kincardineshire. that moving spectacle of Ray: Rebecca ‘Ray’ Middleton (b. c. 1901), who married Mitchell in 1925. that Daryll was so ill of at the time of his father’s death: the Mitchells’ younger child. how stiff was a young man’s fight to establish himself and his family through writing: the Mitchells were desperately poor, in part because James Leslie Mitchell had given up the only guaranteed income available to the family to become a full-time writer. I liked Lady Alexander: Johnny Gibb of Gushetneuk was a novel by William Alexander (1826–94), appearing in serial form in 1869 before being published as a book in 1871. It has not been possible to identify Lady Alexander.

From: Sir Alexander Gray, to Nan Shepherd Address from: 8, Abbotsford Park| Edinburgh. 10 MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 27438, item 25 15 May 1960 Dear Nan, Thank you for your letter and Proof. 1. Proof of G. A. S. Apart from three trifling mistakes towards the end, this seems all right. and my wife tells me that it doesnt read too badly. But in the preliminary quotations – for which I have no responsibility! – there are three points which you might check: probably you have done so already. (a) In line 8 of the first quotation, a quote mark (“) has dropped out after the word “myself”. (b) You might verify the quotation from Cairns where I have put a?. I do not like ‘the history and that history, the centre of human history’. It may be right, but the sentence does not reflect much credit on old David Cairns. And even so the punctuation seems odd! (c)  Is it Bonskied or Bonskeid? – – – –

––––

With regard to the other matter, I think on further consideration that I had better have a look at it myself. It seems to be quite a small book (or booklet). and you do not want a ‘comment’ until August. I am not sure that

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Kay-Larsen, the head of the Danish Institute knows much about ballads or songs; and though Bredsdorff the Cambridge Lektor is a considerable Danish Ballad scholar, I am not sure about his Scots affiliations. So if you will send me the book, and let me know how many words you want, I will have a shot at it. If I cannot trace the Danish song or ballad in Grundtvig or v. der Recke, I can always consult Bredsdorff. Yes, so far as concerns Scotland and the Damned Cat (formerly resident at 20 Hamilton Place: a furnished house of which he formed part of the furniture), you are safe to rely on the Porpoise edition of Gossip. With all good wishes. I suppose I am getting over this jaundice. but I wish I felt stronger and could see better. But we are never content! Yours sincerely, Alexander Gray. Notes Proof of G. A. S.: George Adam Smith (1856–1942), geographer and biblical scholar. He had been principal of Aberdeen University from 1909 to 1935. Shepherd had commissioned Gray to write sketches of the principals of Aberdeen University as part of her planned centenary edition of the Aberdeen University Review in the September 1960 issue (volume 38, number 123, pp. 314–23). my wife: Alice Gray (née Gunn, d. 1967). old David Cairns: David Cairns (1904–92), theologian, Alison Cairns’s (1902–59) younger brother. He held a chair of practical theology at Aberdeen University and published extensively on theological matters. With regard to the other matter: likely a book review Shepherd had proposed to Gray. Kay-Larsen, the head of the Danish Institute: Mögens Kay-Larsen, head of the Danish Institute in Edinburgh. Bredsdorff the Cambridge Lektor: Elias Bredsdorff (1912–2002), who had started working at Cambridge University in 1949. in Grundtvig or v. der Recke: both N. F. S. Grundtvig (1783–1872) and Ernst von der Recke (1848–1933) were authorities on Danish ballads. the Porpoise edition of Gossip: Gray’s 1928 collection of poetry, published by the Porpoise Press in Edinburgh. The collection includes the poems ‘On a Cat, Ageing’, and ‘Scotland’, which concludes the volume.

From: Bill Taylor, to Nan Shepherd Address from: Rosalea,| Drumoak,| Aberdeenshire MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 27438, item 26 11 September 1960

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236   nan shepherd’s correspondence Dear Miss Shepherd, I have been reading steadily through your special Centenary Number and I cannot refrain from writing to say how very good I think it is. It seems to me a complete success and, however you may feel about it yourself, the general reader like me will feel that the result must amply repay your for all the sweat. Aberdeen has a great tradition of such volumes and your one will take its place most handsomely in the line. I like it very much. Ever yours sincerely Bill Taylor. Note your special Centenary Number: Shepherd had edited a special edition of the Aberdeen University Review to commemorate the centenary of the merging of King’s and Marischal Colleges in Aberdeen (volume 38, number 123, September 1960). It attempted to collect the experiences of a wide range of people connected to the university in that period. The edition was widely considered a triumph.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Lyn Irvine Address from: Dunvegan| 503 N. Deeside Rd.| Cults| Aberdeenshire MS: St John’s College, Cambridge, NewmanL/A2, 5 8 November 1960 My dear Lyn, The geese came in yesterday morning and I read it all before bed time. I am especially fascinated by two things – the way you feel your way in to the very beginnings of personal identity, dissolving away the fibres of life to lay bare its minor movements. The age-old problem of I and not I is given a new dimension. The other thing that fascinated me was the yawn or gape of satisfaction and approbation. This summer I had a robin who ate his crumbs on my lap. I used to lie every afternoon stretched out on a deck chair, usually inside a canvas sleeping bag, and he began by alighting on the bag where I had scattered some crumbs. One day I had fallen asleep without putting out the usual largesse. I came up out of sleep aware of a small scratching sound, knew before I opened my eyes that it was the robin’s claws on the canvas, opened them & saw him but was so sleepy that they shut again – then I felt a sharp peck on my fingers. He was demanding his family’s food. I got up & fetched it, but if he could peck my hand he could also feed out of my hand. So he got the food only when he came to take it off my palm. After that we grew very intimate, and one day when the sun shone he settled after eating into a hot hollow of the canvas, snuggled into it, spread

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his wings as he did when he took a sand bath, and gaped – yawned – call it what you will. He used to do it too when he took a dirt bath in the earth at the back of my shelter, which was always dry no matter how chill the earth was outside – made himself a hollow in the sun-heated earth, snuggled into it, and gaped. – He was such an individual bird that I was grieved when I came home from an absence and found that he had disappeared, after a bitter fight with another robin whom I take to have been his son, a spruce, natty, brilliant smooth personage, who is now slowly making himself the accepted habitué of the household – one cannot hold the father’s death against him. He was obeying the law of his nature – a priest of Rumi. But he’s a slick bird and his father was gentle and gracious. It pleases me also to realize that when I was your happy guest a year and a half ago, you were in process of making out the Calendar. Now to find someone who will understand that merging of the birds’ identities – the slow recovery from communal feeling to individual – and will understand also the beauty of some of the writing. Part of the beauty of the writing is that the writing tends to vanish – one gets in to the meaning and the feeling, right through the words, which become diaphanous and disappear. One is in. Love to you, and thank you for this lovely book – Nan Notes The geese came in: Field with Geese, Irvine’s new book, just published by Hamish Hamilton. the Calendar: a reference to ‘The Gozzard’s Calendar’, Part Two of Irvine’s Field with Geese. a priest of Rumi: Rumi (1207–73), Persian poet and theologian who wrote on animal nature.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Hugh MacDiarmid Address from: Dunvegan| 503 North Deeside Road| West Cults| Aberdeenshire MS: Edinburgh University Library Centre for Research Collections, MS. 2960.9/6 24 November 1960 Dear Hugh McDiarmid, May I say first that I was glad so many of our students gave you their allegiance the other week? I was particularly pleased that your lads won the Debate.

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238   nan shepherd’s correspondence Helen Cruickshank, as you know, was here at the time and when I was showing her a collection of stuff that had arrived for review in the A. U. R., including the first issue of The New Hungarian Review /Quarterly/, she at once said that you had been not long ago in Hungary and very probably had met some of the writers who have started off this new venture; and that you might very possibly welcome an opportunity to say something about it. Would you? If you would, I’ll gladly send you it in return for four or five hundred words (not more) for this Journal. Congratulations on your grandchild and remembrances to Valda. I was very sorry indeed about the horrid accident you both suffered from, and hope the effects are wearin’ by. Ever sincerely Nan Shepherd Notes not long ago in Hungary: Christopher Grieve (Hugh MacDiarmid) had been invited in 1959 to visit several Communist countries in Europe, including Hungary, where he met a number of young writers. He was invited to write about his experience by Shepherd for the Aberdeen University Review. This was published as a review of the New Hungarian Quarterly that MacDiarmid had helped establish, which appeared in the spring 1961 issue of the Aberdeen University Review (volume 39, number 125, pp. 61–3). Congratulations on your grandchild: Christopher Grieve (b. 1960), eldest son of Grieve’s youngest child, James Michael Trevlyn (1932–95). Valda: MacDiarmid’s second wife, Valda Trevlyn (1906–89). She and MacDiarmid had recently been involved in a motor accident, in which they sustained injuries.

From: Sir Alexander Gray, to Nan Shepherd Address from: 8, Abbotsford Park| Edinburgh. 10 MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 27438, item 27 26 November 1960 Dear Nan. This, needless to say, is the reply to the letter my wife had from you this morning. She thanks you for it & sends you her best wishes. But I had better stand in my own white shirt! I am really thoroughly ashamed of myself. I see I got the Poems from Panmure House on 17. May & here we are winding up November & nothing done. Do express my profound regret, not merely to yourself but to Helena Mennie. This has been a foul year! – one of the years that the Canker Worm has eaten! It has just been /a year/ cut out.

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My latest escapade was an operation for Cataract in the beginning of Sept, & since then I have been unable to get glasses, especially reading glasses, that suit me. The result is that I can only read with dis-pleasure & for a short time at one go. Some optimists tell me that if I go on trying, I shall get accustomed to it all in time. But I shall probably fall down the stair before then! In addition to semi-blindness, I seem to have little strength or energy. So there’s the poor kind of creature I am. And you will see I am trying to write again after close on 40 years! With profound apologies Yours very sincerely Alexander Gray Notes my wife: Alice Gray (née Gunn, d. 1967). I got the Poems from Panmure House: Poems from Panmure House by Helena Mennie Shire (1912–91), published for Ninth of May by Sebastian Carter, Cambridge, in 1960. A review of them was published anonymously in the Aberdeen University Review in the spring 1961 issue (volume 39, number 125, pp. 63–4).

From: Nan Shepherd, to Lyn Irvine Address from: The Aberdeen University Review| Dunvegan| 503 North Deeside Road| West Cults| Aberdeenshire MS: St John’s College, Cambridge, NewmanL/A2, 6 11 December 1960 Lyn my dear, Peter Scott, whom the Aberdeen students had the sanity to choose for their Rector, is to ‘write a piece’ on your book for the Spring Review. I hope this pleases you. I had intended to ask him to write something for the Spring number, and it was Rex Knight who suggested that the appropriate thing for him to write upon was your book. And may I still have, even though it is late, what you wanted to say about your friend Gilbert? I did not put him in at all in the Obituary Column, but should like to do so in the spring number. Perhaps now that the tension of the book is past, you’ll find energy to do it. This though early carries up good wishes for Christmas and for your next piece of work – Alison or another. Love Nan

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240   nan shepherd’s correspondence Notes Peter Scott: Peter Scott (1909–89), son of the Antarctic explorer Captain Robert Falcon Scott. Peter Scott was a keen ornithologist and established in 1946 what would become the Wildfowl and Wetlands Trust; over the next several years he visited numerous countries conducting research on various kinds of geese. He was elected Rector of Aberdeen University in 1960 and served until 1963. He was the perfect reviewer for Irvine’s recent book, Fields with Geese, on geese husbandry. His generous review was published in the spring 1960 issue of the Aberdeen University Review (volume 39, number 125, pp. 60–1). Rex Knight: Arthur Rex Knight (1903–63), Australian-born Anderson Professor of Psychology at Aberdeen University. your friend Gilbert: William Gilbert Lyon Gilbert (1893–1960), who died of a heart attack on 8 January 1960. Lyn Irvine’s obituary of him appeared in the spring 1961 issue of the Aberdeen University Review. the tension of the book is past: the completion of Fields of Geese, which had been published by Hamish Hamilton earlier in the year.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Lyn Irvine Address from: Dunvegan MS: St John’s College, Cambridge, NewmanL/A2, 7 18 January 1961 My dear Lyn Thank you for the bit about Gilbert. Certainly I’ll use it all – I’m only too glad to have something readable instead of tombstone platitudes – indeed this is so personal and original that I feel it ought to have your name instead of mere initials, it is so obviously one specific person’s experience of the man. Off prints could be had, at a small cost – they are given free only for articles. The whole issue costs 7/6 and it seems a bit much to ask Mrs. Gilbert to pay that when you say she is hard up. I have always the right to send one or two copies by grace and favour, and I may manage to let her have one of these. (I’d intended one of them for Peter Scott, when he sends his spiel upon you.) Anyway it will be May before it appears. The Review is always insolvent and couldn’t pay its way at all unless the University Court gave it a yearly douceur of £300. The Court pad up £400 without a tremor for the Special Number. About the Hebrides – a wonderful project and June is the time (you did say June, didn’t you?) – May & June are the best months. But how to ensure cooked meals as you move around, which I take it is the idea in having tents, or a roof at a shower’s notice, I really don’t know. They’re a slowmoving people and might only get used to the idea of your wanting to come

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in when you were already in the next Island – I stayed at one or two unorthodox places in the Lewis and Harris – Port of Ness and Uig of the white sands – but that was thirty years ago and I’ve no idea if the places still hold out, or if they’d be willing to give food without lodging. The other Islands I have no contacts in at all, except that the novelist Fionn McColla (Tom Henderson) is schoolmaster in, I think it’s South Uist – I have his address somewhere and he might give some help, tho’ the last time I heard of him his wife was living in E’burgh for the sake of the children’s education. They are Catholics and have a family of some ten strapping youngsters Enjoy your trip – it will be marvellous in the early spring. Ever Nan Notes the bit about Gilbert: William Gilbert Lyon Gilbert (1893–1960), who died of a heart attack on 8 January 1960. Lyn Irvine’s obituary of him appeared in the spring 1961 issue of the Aberdeen University Review. William Gilbert was survived by his second wife Margery, née Adlington. Peter Scott, when he sends his spiel upon you: Peter Scott (1909–89), son of the Antarctic explorer Captain Robert Falcon Scott. Scott was reviewing for the Aberdeen University Review Irvine’s recent book, Fields of Geese, on geese husbandry, published by Hamish Hamilton in 1960. His generous review was published in the spring 1960 issue of the Aberdeen University Review (volume 39, number 125, pp. 60–1). the Special Number: the centenary edition of the Aberdeen University Review (volume 38, number 123, September 1960) that Shepherd had overseen the previous year, celebrating the hundredth anniversary of the merger of King’s and Marischal Colleges in the city. the novelist Fionn McColla: Fionn Mac Colla was the pen name of Thomas Joseph Douglas MacDonald (1906–75) – Shepherd has misremembered his surname. MacDonald taught at this time at a school on Barra, though he was about to leave the islands for a final move to Edinburgh. His wife was Mary Doyle (1911–99), and they had a family of three sons and seven daughters. Mac Colla’s novels included The Albannach (1932) and And the Cock Crew (1945), the latter concerned with the Highland clearances. A Scottish nationalist, MacDonald’s political sympathies in the 1930s were in tune with those of Shepherd, under whom MacDonald studied at Aberdeen Training College between 1923 and 1925.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Hugh MacDiarmid Address from: Dunvegan| 503 N. Deeside Rd –| CULTS| Aberdeen MS: Edinburgh University Library Centre for Research Collections, MS. 2960.9/7 11 February 1961

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242   nan shepherd’s correspondence Dear Hugh McDiarmid, Here is your proof. I’m not quite sure what word you intended where they’ve printed q u a r t e r s (and in italics!). I hardly imagine the Hungarian students were quartered even though drawn to you – I cut the final paragraph to fit two pages. Kindest remembrances to Valda and yourself Ever sincerely Nan Shepherd Notes the Hungarian students: Christopher Grieve (Hugh MacDiarmid) had been invited in 1959 to visit several Communist countries in Europe, including Hungary, where he met a number of young writers. He was invited to write about his experience by Shepherd for the Aberdeen University Review. This was published as a review of the New Hungarian Quarterly that MacDiarmid had helped establish, which appeared in the spring 1961 issue of the Aberdeen University Review (volume 39, number 125, pp. 61–3). Valda: MacDiarmid’s second wife, Valda Trevlyn (1906–89).

From: Nan Shepherd, to Lyn Irvine Address from: Dunvegan| W. Cults MS: St John’s College, Cambridge, NewmanL/A2, 8 22 April 1961 My dear Lyn, I’m sure you will want to see this before it comes out. You’ve no idea the chase I had to get it! Peter Scott went off to Kenya without doing it – I wrote and had a promise from his secretary that it would arrive ‘soon’ – six weeks later I wrote again and had an almost fulsome apology, again from the Secretary, and /a promise/ that it would certainly arrive before the end of March. Eventually it came about the 10th. of April! I was so anxious to have it that we kept a space (though not knowing just what length it would be) and all is now well, though I’m not very sure when we’ll go to press. I am waiting now for the page proofs. I hope you had a very happy time on the Riviera – have you made any further plans for the Hebrides? This year I am not going west but to the Italian Lakes, and am taking Mary with me – also one of my good friends from Training College years. Mary won’t go a holiday and is badly needing one. She is quite thrilled over it. We’re flying to Zurich – then train across Switzerland, and we stay in a Hotel at Paradiso on Lake Lugano and go on tour from there if we want to. Not, quite frankly, my

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kind of holiday, but as I haven’t stayed in the Lakes before it will be new country – Did I ever say anything about copies of the Gilbert obituary? If Mrs. Gilbert has been left hard up it seems unnessary [sic] to have her buy a copy of the whole issue. I could send you if you cared two copies of the final page proof, which would cost nothing. Even off prints would have to be paid for, as only articles are off printed free. My robin – son of the hand-pecker, the son who dispossessed and I fear disposed of his father – remained very stand-offish all autumn & wouldn’t come to the door at all. If I spoke to him he immediately flew off, as though he suffered from a guilt complex – But in the hard frosts he grew very tame and came to be fed. Then one morning he hopped to the door with a companion, and the pair of red breasts appeared regularly after that, usually together, but also each one alone. Then the lady ceased to come and the husband filled his beak and flew to her with beakfuls of food as she sat presumably on her nest and eggs. (The nest is two gardens away) The first day I sat out in the sun he flew straight on to the /my/ lap just as his father did, even tho’ there were no crumbs on it to lure him. Now he takes crumbs from my hand. But yesterday an amusing affair: I had crumbled down some soft cake that went into such small pieces that he couldn’t get a decent mouthful to carry to her. Off he went twice, thrice, with more crumbles. Then suddenly, they were both there – exactly as though she had said, you’ve done very badly with that grocer. I must come & speak to him myself. Instantly I went for something with more substance in it, and at once he seized the largest morsel and stuffed it into her mouth. She then pecked a few crumbs for herself but soon flew away, and he resumed his job of carrying the groceries. Ever with love Nan Notes Peter Scott went off to Kenya without doing it: Peter Scott (1909–89), son of the Antarctic explorer Captain Robert Falcon Scott, and rector of Aberdeen University, had agreed to review Lyn Irvine’s recent book Fields of Geese (1960) for the Aberdeen University Review. A frequent traveller in pursuit of his own research on geese, Scott was often abroad forging international connections which would shortly yield the founding of the World Wildlife Fund. His generous review of Irvine’s book was published in the spring 1960 issue of the Aberdeen University Review (volume 39, number 125, pp. 60–1). taking Mary: Mary Lawson (1884–1976), Shepherd’s housekeeper and companion. copies of the Gilbert obituary: William Gilbert Lyon Gilbert (1893–1960), who died of a heart attack on 8 January 1960. Lyn Irvine’s obituary of him appeared in the spring 1961 issue of the Aberdeen University Review.

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From: Nan Shepherd, to Edith Robertson Address from: Dunvegan, 503 North Deeside Road, West Cults, Aberdeenshire MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 3046/2/5/44 17 June 1961 My dear Edith, I am sorry to send this most interesting poem back, but its length is beyond anything that the Review could manage, and in any case printers’ charges have gone up so high that the treasurer threatens me with a drastic curtailment of space and I have already in hand two two-page poems and several shorter ones, as well as half-a-dozen unused articles. It would be 1963 before I could consider yours for inclusion! And even then I fear it is longer than we could cope with. Thank you all the same very much indeed for letting me see it. I have read and reread it with the deepest appreciation, and some of the phrases stay in the memory: ‘Oh divine Wisdom disown what is hers to redeem’ – ‘But riding time from the conception of the world’ – ‘My portion came nearer me, and lighted upon me’ – – all that stanza and the two that follow. Indeed the whole poem has a chiselled beauty. I hope very much that you will publish it some time and some where. Forgive me for not answering sooner. I have just returned from Switzerland and North Italy (where it rained, and rained). It’s so good of you to go on asking me to Chomarie. I have already arranged a second going away for this year – to Inchnadamph in September. But if you come to Arbroath, won’t you come and see me some day? Or if you want to stay put once you’ve got there, I’d come & see you with much pleasure. Even if you come to Arbroath to write, you won’t write all the time – Thank you again for sending the poem. My regrets that my hands are tied by the finances of the matter. With loving thoughts Nan Shepherd Note Chomarie: Edith Robertson’s (1883–1973) home in Aberdeen. Robertson’s career as a poet spanned more than half a century, and her writing was frequently informed by her devout Christian faith.

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From: Nan Shepherd, to Helen B. Cruickshank Address from: Dunvegan| 503 N. D. Rd. –| Cults MS: Edinburgh University Library Centre for Research Collections, Gen 1929/18 4 18 August 1961 My dear Helen, What a cantrip are you up to next! I’d have loved to come and fork it, had I not been misbehaving. I’ve had a week of Festival bookings since March, but don’t /shan’t/ know till Monday whether I’ll get permission to come at all; and if I do, it will be only to see the Epstein Exhibition, and (I hope) Dr. Faustus & Luther & Romeo & Juliet. The others I’ll give away or give back – would you like a ticket for the morning concert on Thursday? The reason for all this is that my pulse has been playing me some silly tricks for a while back, and my doctor sent me to a specialist who whisked me off to his ward in Foresterhill and subjected me to so many tests that he must now know everything about me except why I am. – Cardiograph and blood tests, radio-iodine test in case my thyroid had gone toxic again (thanks be, it hasn’t), chest & throat x-ray and finally a barium meal – Then I was sent home to rest with various specifics ––– my doctor is meantime on holiday but comes back tomorrow or Sunday, and I hope to be told on Monday whether I may come to E’b. If I do, I shall live with the utmost rectitude, and am to make no attempt to see any of my friends, much as I should like to. So no forks in your company. Sorry, sorry. So many things I’ll have to forgo – Mary Ramsay invites me to meet her – I had got her to review for the A. U. R. Helena Mennie’s second Ninth of May vot brochure – But I’ll have to say no over meeting her – The Review I have thrown over my shoulder for this issue, except that when a nice young man has dealt with the gally [sic] proof I’ll come in on the make-up. I had reached the point when it was taking me a week to do what normally I’d have run through in an evening, so I suppose my present flattened condition is the best thing! I hope you’re really fit for what you’re undertaking – By the way, did you see in the Scotsman that Marion Clarke’s sister Ella (at Wick) died suddenly about ten days ago? She died of a thrombosis in a Dingwall Hotel. Ever with love Nan –

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246   nan shepherd’s correspondence Notes had I not been misbehaving: as a result of Shepherd’s illness her Festival schedule was under debate. the Epstein Exhibition: memorial exhibition to the sculptor Jacob Epstein (1880– 1959), held in Waverley Market during the 1961 Edinburgh Festival. Dr. Faustus & Luther & Romeo & Juliet: Doctor Faustus by Christopher Marlowe, performed by the Old Vic Company at the Assembly Hall; Luther by John Osborne, performed at the Empire Theatre; Romeo and Juliet, performed by the Old Vic Company at the King’s Theatre. in case my thyroid had gone toxic again: Shepherd had previously had surgery to remove most of her thyroid gland, mentioned in her letter to Neil Gunn dated 24 February 1948, p. 171. Mary Ramsay invites me to meet her: possibly Mary Paton Ramsay (1885–1967), Scottish academic. Helena Mennie’s second Ninth of May vot brochure: Helena Mennie Shire (1912– 91), whose second volume published for Ninth of May by Sebastian Carter, Poems and Songs of Sir Robert Ayton, had appeared in 1961. The review by Mary Ramsay for the Aberdeen University Review was published in the autumn 1961 issue (volume 39, number 126, pp. 157–8). Marion Clarke’s sister Ella: likely Marion Clarke, who was born in 1900 in Stornoway. It is probable she became friendly with Agnes Mure Mackenzie, who was also from the town, and through her, a friend of Nan Shepherd. Clarke had a sister, Elizabeth (b. 1901), but it is not clear whether this is the sister mentioned here.

From: Sir Alexander Gray, to Nan Shepherd Address from: 8, Abbotsford Park| Edinburgh. 10 MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 27438, item 28 8 October 1961 Dear Nan, Be it known to you, first of all, that I am making rapid progress towards becoming a very satisfactory specimen of the senile crock! I have no strength or energy to do anything, and though I am anything but blind, I am a groper, confused with a galaxy of spectacles, of which I always seem to have the wrong one on my nose! This is by way of introduction to an explanation. 1959 was the [deletion] last year in which I tried to justify my life! In that year I revised and retyped all my unpublished Danish Ballads. And there they lie, beautifully laid up; unfortunately, no-one seems to have any desire to throw away [deletion] any money on their publication. When I got your proof, some of it sounded strange to me, so I dug out the official copy of my Bad Boys’ Book of Bloody Ballads which is waiting to be deposited in the National Library.

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I imagine that the explanation of the discrepancy between my official copy and your proof must be that I sent you this copy of Sverkel before the revision of 1959. I feel rather annoyed with myself over the business. Looking at it now I am not sure that all the alterations are in fact obvious improvements; but in 1959 I clearly thought that they were better or perhaps nearer to the origin/al./ Anyhow I think that what you publish should conform to the version in the ‘official copy’. I should like to think that they may yet be published; and if ever I found myself flusher of money than I am now, I might even be willing to throw away some money of my own! Anyhow, I have entered all the necessary alterations on your proof; and as I say I am rather ashamed of myself. I flatter myself that I usually send back clean proofs. But though my writing is not so beautiful as it ought to be, I think they are comprehensible. If you are nervous, you may send me another proof! I am indeed very sorry to hear that you have been ‘out of the running’ and condemned to inactivity. You must not do too much. You are a very valuable member of the University community, and you must take no risks. I have done nothing whatever since the beginning of 1960, and I dont suppose I will ever do anything more. I can read and I do read, but I am not reading so easily as I did a few months ago. Nothing annoys me more than to see other people doing things that I flattered myself I would be able to do when I retired. Old Age is a bit of a swindle. There are all manner of things you flatter yourself you will do when the time comes; and when the time comes you havent the strength or the energy to do anything. But I am a good sleeper! – every afternoon anything up to two hours! With all good wishes that you may hang on to your health and your strength. Yours always, Alexander Gray. Note this copy of Sverkel: ‘Sverkel and his Sister’, a Danish ballad translated by Gray that was published in the autumn 1961 issue of the Aberdeen University Review (volume 38, number 126, pp. 133–4).

From: Sir Alexander Gray, to Nan Shepherd Address from: 8, Abbotsford Park| Edinburgh. 10 MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 27438, item 29 13 October 1961 Dear Nan, How true that a man needs a woman to keep him straight! I think you are probably right about the O’ercome or Omkvaed. And if it is not

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248   nan shepherd’s correspondence too late, I have not the least objection, perhaps I think I might prefer that you returned to the original form. The deplorable truth is that I [deletion] forget all about what I had in mind when I revised this and the others. All I know now is that in 1959, I systematically went through all my unpublished ballads and most conscientiously revised and re-typed them. But perhaps it is always a mistake to revise anything! God knows what might be the result [deletion] if I devoted 1962 to further revision! I am sorry to learn that you have fallen into the hands of the doctors. Do not let them boss you! But you must be a Babe compared with me. I cannot ‘apply myself’ to anything for more than about quarter of an hour, and I grope about like a mole. But people ought not to be so foolish as to have been born at the beginning of [deletion] 1882. I forgot to say in my last letter that I never got a copy of the memorial edition of the University Review. But if you will not think it discourteous, I dont think you should trouble to send me even Douglas Simpson’s Contribution. I am pretty near the stage of not being able to read. Alick Buchanan-Smith told me he had asked his sister – Mrs Clark – to send me a copy; but nothing ever came. And I think that we may now leave it at that. Again my warm thanks for your sage counsel, and my deep sympathy on being told, and perhaps compelled, to ‘sit back’. A great deal of Bilge is talked about De Senectute! Dont I know it! Yours very sincerely, Alexander Gray. Notes you are probably right about the O’ercome or Omkvaed: one of a number of Danish ballads translated by Gray that he had offered to Shepherd for inclusion in the Aberdeen University Review. Shepherd declined to publish them. fallen into the hands of the doctors: in August Shepherd had been hospitalised with a heart complaint. Multiple tests proved inconclusive, though Shepherd was ordered to live quietly for a while. the memorial edition of the University Review: in September 1960 Shepherd had overseen a centenary edition of the Aberdeen University Review to celebrate the anniversary of the merging of King’s and Marischal Colleges in Aberdeen (volume 38, number 123). It was very well received. Douglas Simpson’s Contribution: W. Douglas Simpson (1896–1968), historian, was a graduate of Aberdeen University who returned to the university first as a lecturer in history, then as the university’s librarian from 1926 to 1966. He contributed an article on the history of the university during its first century, which was published as part of the special centenary edition of the Aberdeen University Review in 1960. Alick Buchanan-Smith: Alick Buchanan-Smith (1898–84), soldier and scientist. A graduate of Aberdeen University, Buchanan-Smith subsequently had a long career at Edinburgh University, lecturing in genetics. Mrs Clarke was his youngest sister, Margaret Buchanan Clarke (1910–2000).

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De Senectute: Gray is alluding to the essay written by Cicero in 44 bc, Cato Maior de Senectute, or Cato the Elder on Old Age.

From: Sir Alexander Gray, to Nan Shepherd Address from: 8, Abbotsford Park| Edinburgh. 10 MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 27438, item 30 21 November 1961 Dear Nan, Many thanks for the Autumn number of the University Review, and for having saved me from making the ‘Ballant’ less good than it was originally! This is the last you have, isnt it? Thank you so much for giving these so agreeable a resting place. It wouldnt be true to say that I have rather lost interest in these ballads; but I have rather lost the physical capacity to be interested; and I have an uneasy feeling that my manuscripts may be getting into an untidy mess! Things do, the place being infested with Brownies and What-nots. I am wrestling along somehow! – still crusading for spectacles, which will really enable me to see and read and garden as I ought. I give constant employment to the ophthalmologist and the optician. I suppose in one sense that might be called leading a useful life. And let me say again, – I do not seem to have said it in this letter – what an excellent, ‘friendly’ Review the Review is. Yours sincerely, Alexander Gray Notes the ‘Ballant’: Gray had offered to Shepherd a number of Danish ballads that he had translated, several of which were published. None were published in the Aberdeen University Review after 1961. This is the last you have: Shepherd had returned most of the ballads shared with her by Gray. At the same time as discussing publication with Shepherd, Gray was negotiating the publication of his ballads with other editors, such as the poet Norman MacCaig (1910–96).

From: Nan Shepherd, to Daphne Penny Address from: Dunvegan| 503 N. Deeside Rd.| Cults MS: Private collection of Leith Penny, used by permission 9 April 1962

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250   nan shepherd’s correspondence Dearest Daphne, I can’t say Happy birthday exactly, but even if remembering hurts, it heals too. And it will be a great day for the children. I’ve just been reading, for the first time, the last volume of Proust’s twelve, and his dissertation in the final pages on what time does to our own past is full of suggestive ideas. We carry our past inside us and only there has it validity. Well, yours has validity all right, and it will gain more as the you inside you works on it. It will be good to see you again, soon I hope. And what a treat it is to see your mother becoming like her old self again – Keen and lively. I knew a very big difference the last time I saw her – I go once a week and each week she has climbed another few paces up the brae – And what a wonderful person Margaret is. I’m so glad you’ve got the children’s schooling settled – especially glad about Leith, for everyone’s sake. A blessing on your head, my very dear – And love from Auntie Nan Notes I can’t say Happy birthday exactly: Daphne Penny (née Hendry, later Penny, then Randerson, 1926–2003) was the daughter of Shepherd’s dear friend Alice Hendry (née Thompson, 1893–1962) and had known ‘Auntie’ Nan all her life. Daphne’s husband Jim had recently died suddenly, leaving her a widow at thirty-five with three young children to care for. the last volume of Proust’s twelve: the 1941 Chatto and Windus edition of Remembrance of Things Past was published in twelve volumes. The last was Time Regained. your mother: Alice Hendry (née Thompson, 1893–1962), a friend of Nan Shepherd from her student days at Aberdeen University. what a wonderful person Margaret is: Margaret Hendry, Alice’s sister-in-law and wife of her brother William ‘Billy’ Hendry. glad about Leith: Daphne’s young son, Leith Penny.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Helen B. Cruickshank Address from: Dunvegan| 503 N. Deeside Rd.| Cults| Aberdeen MS: Edinburgh University Library Centre for Research Collections, Gen 1929/18 5 Easter Monday [23 April] 1962

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My dear Helen, I hope I sent you a Christmas card but am not too sure even of that! Jean Templeton says you were asking about me, so I’d better begin by saying I am well but not yet very energetic. I tire quickly and can’t do anything strenuous, but what the hell, I’m nearly seventy, and can surely go down the hill as gaily as I climbed it. I don’t see any likelihood of being in Edinburgh before Festival time, but then I do mean to come, and hope I shall be fitter for it than last year, when I certainly wouldn’t have come had I not had a week of bookings (not all of which I used) and had I not been so anxious to see the Epstein exhibition. What I am not doing is coming in time for the literary discussions. One can talk and talk and get nowhere – I’m using my time and strength on music and the drama. But I’ll find time to see you – though it takes longer now that my cousin has gone to London Road. I have spent a very quiet winter, going out to nothing but the Saltire meetings (of which I am Chairman, else I’d have cut them too) and the Chamber Concerts. It’s wonderful how little one really needs the dash of the world. I’ve enjoyed my silent year. And you? I hope moderately well. How is your head – the deafness? and your knee? and all the bits and pieces in between? And are you going to have anything of a holiday this year? I am going for the first half of June to Kintail at the head of Loch Duich – new country for me, and though I may not any longer climb the heights, there will be plenty to see & explore. And I am going with a couple who have a car, so our walks can start from differing points. I still labour away at the University Review, but after its own Jubilee which takes place next year I think I shall give it up. There’s a lot of drudgery in it and I can no longer take that in my stride – I’ll enjoy having a pow-wow with you if you can spare me the time, and hearing all the news of the élite. How does Kulgin get on? He sent me a Christmas card but I’m afraid I never got round to answering. Be good to yourself. Ever with love Nan Notes Jean Templeton: Jean Smith Templeton, a long-standing friend of Nan Shepherd’s and Agnes Mure Mackenzie’s from their days at Aberdeen University. the Epstein exhibition: memorial exhibition to the sculptor Jacob Epstein (1880– 1959), held in Waverley Market during the 1961 Edinburgh Festival. after its own Jubilee: the fiftieth anniversary of the Aberdeen University Review would occur in 1963. How does Kulgin get on: Kulgin Dalby Duval (1929–2016), bookseller. In 1959 he published a prospectus of original materials relating to Robert Burns, all for

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252   nan shepherd’s correspondence sale. A prominent career as a bookseller of important Scottish literary remains followed.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Helen B. Cruickshank Address from: Dunvegan| 503 N. D. Rd.| Cults| Aberdeen MS: Edinburgh University Library Centre for Research Collections, Gen 1929/18 6 16 May 1962 Dear Helen, Two fine long letters from you! Well, to answer: the first query is easy. Marion Angus’s nephew is Secretary to the University – I’ve rung him up – he says the copyright lies with Faber and Faber, and no member of the family has any say in it. So that should be plain sailing. When I told him of the proposed reading of her poems, he said ‘Power to his larynx.’ – Your other query is less easy. If it has been a house to buy I’d have been able to suggest several – an old one in Cults, with a fair garden attached, a medium-aged one in Carden Terr, rather dull & shut in, a nice new one in View Field Gardens – all for sale, all about Mr Munro’s size. But for a let – I doubt if there’s anything at all outwith Council houses, and as you know they are not very suitable for that kind of family; and there are controversies over the rent. If I should by any chance hear of anything I’ll certainly let him know, but at the moment I’m blank. The appointment interests me much. That they should appoint a lecturer in rural school methods just at the time that they are shutting down so many rural schools seems a very topsy turvy logic. I’m so glad you had such a pleasant trip & I hope it has done you good – I’m going to Kintail for the first half of June, – then for a fortnight & weekend Mary & I are to have charge of Sheila’s two youngest – a lively time! I’ll be in E’d. from Aug. 24 to Sep. 3 (I think that’s right – anyway the middle week of the festival.) Ever with love Nan I’m very glad that Ian has got his biography written. Notes Marion Angus’s nephew: William Stephenson Angus (1899–1982), with whom Shepherd had a sustained correspondence regarding his aunt. See Angus’s letter to Shepherd, MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections,

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MS 2737–52/81, 7 November 1968 (p. 270). W. S. Angus was Secretary of Aberdeen University. Mr Munro’s size: likely Ian Sherwood Munro (b. 1914), a mutual friend of Shepherd’s and Cruickshank’s who was appointed as lecturer at Aberdeen University. Mary & I are to have charge of Sheila’s two youngest: Mary Lawson (1884–1976), Shepherd’s housekeeper and companion. Sheila Clouston (1918–92), their longstanding friend, and her youngest children, John and Magnus. I’m very glad that Ian has got his biography written: possibly a reference to the biography of James Leslie Mitchell (Lewis Grassic Gibbon, 1901–35) by Ian S. Munro, which would be published in 1966.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Jessie Kesson Address from: Dunvegan| 503 N. Deeside Rd.| Cults| Aberdeen MS: National Library of Scotland, Acc. 13722, box 2, folder 1 28 May 1962 My dear Jessie, I don’t know whether you have heard that your very old friend Bella Walker has died. I have so far heard nothing but the newspaper report, which says that she died in the City Hospital. Miss Moffat will miss her very badly, and I am sure you will be far from the only one who will remember and spare a thought or two to the old days when she made a mark on your life. How are you? Apart from seeing now and then that you were appearing on Television (which I haven’t got) and hearing one of your things on the Third Programme, I don’t seem to have had news of you for a long time. It’s probably my own blame, for I didn’t write at Christmas – If you have a minute to spare, do let me know about yourself, and Johnny and Avril and Kenneth Mary joins me in happy remembrances – Ever sincerely Nan Shepherd Notes old friend Bella Walker: Bella Walker (1887–1962). She and her lifelong companion Elsie Moffatt (1894–1985) helped manage St Katherine’s Club in Aberdeen which ran the hostel where Kesson resided while she attended school in the early 1930s. Although Kesson intensely disliked the hostel, she found firm friendship with Walker and Moffatt, who befriended Kesson in what was for her often a very unpleasant time as a young woman in the early 1930s.

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254   nan shepherd’s correspondence the Third Programme: a BBC radio station active between 1946 and 1967, when it was replaced by BBC Radio 3. Kesson wrote frequently for radio, with over forty plays in total. It has not been possible to identify which work Shepherd is referring to here. Johnny and Avril and Kenneth: Kesson’s husband and two children.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Helen B. Cruickshank Address from: Dunvegan| 503 N. Deeside Rd.| Cults| Aberdeen MS: Edinburgh University Library Centre for Research Collections, Gen 1929/18 7 9 September 1962 Sorry, this has lain unposted – Marion spent six hours here the other day – Very well. – My dear Helen, How are all the sore places now? I hope by this time your doctor has returned and has given you that once-over, which I trust will not require to become a twice or thrice over – I’m returning you this statement, which Jean sent me. I didn’t give her it back with your letter, which she wanted to have for keeps. You are yourself the proper depository for this paper. I do understand your reluctance to have the matter pursued, and see all too well the point that a civil service pension doesn’t look on the face of it the proper basis for a civil list pension, but I wish all the same we could have found a way to mitigate your difficulties. I appreciate more and more my own luck in having inherited a debt-free house with enough money to keep it in repair and pay its rates and feu duty. Festschrift arrived yesterday – I understand from Kulgin that you wrote him and said I hadn’t had a review copy. I feel I ought to have bought a copy, though I forswore the buying of books when I retired. Anyhow I can give him a touch of publicity in return, though it can’t now be till next spring. Still, that mayn’t be a bad thing for the book – a reminder at that stage might kittle up a purchaser or so. I spent an hour with Jean Templeton the afternoon of the day I saw you and took her on Monday to a Bach concert at Leith Town Hall & then to lunch. Thereafter she elected to go and see the Yugo-Slav Primitives. You know (or perhaps may remember) the sort of day Monday was – rain merciless and incessant all day long. I said nowt but chuckled inside myself. The lady whose talk anent herself is all of pains and distempers can rise magnificently to opportunity ––– something to do and someone to take her to do it and there’s ne’er a word of disabilities. Marion Clarke I found very much better – indeed rested, reposeful and cheerful. She was simply worn out and they kept her completely in bed for

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a fortnight. Now she is to travel to Edinburgh on the 21st. to stay for a few weeks with her friend Jean Gibson (d. of a late Rector of Storoway [sic] N. Institute) This visit was arranged before she went to Hospital – My garden is a jungle – I work in it when it stops raining – it rains and I go back to find a new crop of weeds in possession. And the apples come down in their hundreds under the walloping winds – Love to you, my dear – Oh, I relished the group photograph taken in your garden. Isn’t Nannie Wells characteristic – coy and self conscious? Have you seen the book she has had published at Slains? Again, I feel I ought to have bought, but haven’t. Ever Nan. Notes Marion spent six hours here: likely Marion Clarke, who was born in 1900 in Stornoway. It is probable she became friendly with Agnes Mure Mackenzie, who was also from the town, and through her, a friend of Nan Shepherd. Further details remain elusive. which Jean sent me: possibly Jean Smith Templeton, a long-standing friend of Nan Shepherd’s and Agnes Mure Mackenzie. a civil service pension: Cruickshank worked in the civil service from 1903 to 1944, when she retired on medical grounds. Festschrift arrived yesterday: Hugh MacDiarmid: A Festschrift, edited by Kulgin Dalby Duval (1929–2016) and Sydney Goodsir Smith (1915–75), was published in Edinburgh by Duval in 1962. the Yugo-Slav Primitives: an exhibition of paintings held at the National Gallery of Scotland in Edinburgh as part of the 1962 Festival. It is some distance from Leith Walk. her friend Jean Gibson: Jean Gibson, later Lady Jane Urquhart, was the daughter of William John Gibson, the progressive headmaster of Stornoway’s Nicholson Institute from 1894 to 1925. Have you seen the book she has had published at Slains?: George Gordon, Lord Byron: A Scottish Genius by Nannie Katherine Wells (b. 1875), was published by Michael Slains in 1961.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Jessie Kesson [partial] Address from: Dunvegan| 503 N. Deeside Rd.| Cults| Aberdeen MS: National Library of Scotland, Acc. 13722, box 2, folder 1 15 September 1962

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256   nan shepherd’s correspondence My dear Jessie, I am very happy about Your book. It’s good to know that a sound and lovely thing can make its way in a world so given over to perverted values. And Glitter of Mica is a good title. I was quoting that line – ‘glitter of mica at windy corners’ – not long ago in a speech at a Glasgow-Aberdeen University luncheon. Yes, I remember your friend Chris, but didn’t know the hardship she had had to go through. Oddly, when your letter arrived, I had a visit from the Mental Hospital, having a day out in preparation for leaving altogether in the coming week – healed and happy about herself. It is good of you to give Chris (I don’t know any other name for her) a home, perhaps only temporarily? I understand your anxiety over Johnny. So many people share that particular one nowadays, but other people’s anxieties don’t make our own easier. I understand too your sense of a gulf opening at your feet when you think of ‘after’. I too have no belief in a life after death – at least I keep an open mind over it, acknowledging that the lonely philosophies I once held, and can still see to be so desirable, may indeed be true. I can grasp that there may be a realm of life, an order of living, as imperceptible to me just now as fragrance to a man who has no sense of smell. But my reason does not accept it. And yet – I suppose that is just itself a density. Do you remember Wells’s [letter ends abruptly] Notes I am very happy about Your book: Glitter of Mica, which was to be published the following year. ‘glitter of mica at windy corners’: from ‘Home Town Elegy’ by G. S. Fraser, published in 1944. The poem is dedicated to Aberdeen. your friend Chris: Chrissie Hubbard, a long-standing friend of Kesson’s from Elgin. Kesson offered her friend a home while Hubbard explored whether she wanted to live and work in London. Hubbard stayed for several weeks. anxiety over Johnny: John Kesson (1905–94), Jessie Kesson’s husband, whose health was increasingly poor.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Helen B. Cruickshank Address from: Dunvegan| 503 N. Deeside Rd.| Cults| Aberdeen MS: Edinburgh University Library Centre for Research Collections, Gen 1929/18 8 15 October 1962 My dear Helen, I don’t think I answered your letter, did I? It came just as I was preparing for a visitor, then entertaining her, then I took her to the Heelan’s for

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a few days and while we were there one of my dearest friends died – her daughter had lost her husband nine months ago in ten minutes’ illness, leaving her with three small children, and her mother has been in bed ever since, again and again within an ace of death – so my mind was full of many things and I’ve neglected to answer several letters. Not perhaps that yours required an answer, though it’s always pleasant to answer a friend’s letters. But I did want to say how sorry I was that your ‘let’ let you down. You may of course be spared a few heartbreaks if your rooms were treated in too cavalier a fashion. Daphne (the young mother left with the 3 small children), now engaged by the Grampian TV as an announcer, [deletion] got a Stornoway lass to look after the children but dismissed her after a few weeks – ‘I wasn’t having a slut looking after my children.’ It’s sad – they are often so charming but so lazy ––– Marion Clarke rang me from Stornoway the other evening. She is home after a happy fortnight in Edinburgh with her friend Jean Gibson – I forgot to ask her if she had seen you while she was there – She seems gay almost as she prepares to take up her life again in the old surroundings, but one wonders whether it will last – There’s an emotional instability that recurs, and certain elements of Stornoway life aren’t good for her – yet she says she couldn’t live elsewhere – Your Stornoway lasses, by the way, wouldn’t probably be much disconcerted by drunken sailors in the Leith road! Kulgin, as I think I told you, sent me the Festschrift and in a subsequent letter said he was going off on the N. Trust cruise. I hope they didn’t encounter the hurricane of the last week in September. It would have tested anyone’s stammach – We were in Inveralligin at the time and between Saturday and Sunday a motor launch anchored a little way from shore had simply disappeared – swamped by the huge waves even on Inner Loch Torridon – We left early on Monday, (and of course on the Sabbath not a motion was made towards getting the poor thing up) and I haven’t heard whether they were able to retrieve it nor how badly it was damaged. – I’m glad you’re in rather better shape and hope you keep so. I’m working hard (-ish) in my overgrown garden, but I don’t need a stepladder to pull my plums – there were only three – nor my apples – the wind brings down a few dozen a day. Tomorrow I’m talking to a women’s Guild (which I do much dislike) on Some Aberdeenshire Books, and I’ve just refused the Aberdeen Branch of the National Council of women, and the Burns Club who wanted a talk on Charles Murray. But both of these will be asking again next year. I get so tired of talk. Much love my dear Ever Nan Notes one of my dearest friends died: Alice Hendry (née Thompson, 1893–1962), who was at Aberdeen University with both Nan Shepherd and Agnes Mure Mackenzie.

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258   nan shepherd’s correspondence Hendry’s daughter, Daphne Penny (later Randerson, 1926–2003), had recently lost her husband, Jim, when he died suddenly aged 30. To support her young family of three children Daphne returned to work for Grampian TV in 1962, as Shepherd mentions later in the letter. Marion Clarke rang me: born in 1900 in Stornoway. It is probable she became friendly with Agnes Mure Mackenzie, who was also from the town, and through her, a friend of Nan Shepherd. Further details remain elusive. her friend Jean Gibson: Jean Gibson, later Lady Jane Urquhart. Gibson went to school with Marion Clarke in Stornoway. Kulgin, as I think I told you, sent me the Festschrift: Hugh MacDiarmid: A Festschrift, edited by Kulgin Dalby Duval (1929–2016) and Sydney Goodsir Smith (1915–75), was published in Edinburgh by Duval in 1962. the hurricane of the last week in September: Hurricane Daisy, which tracked across the eastern Caribbean before turning northwards. a talk on Charles Murray: Shepherd’s old friend, Charles Murray (1864–1941), whose poetry Shepherd had long championed.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Jessie Kesson Address from: Dunvegan MS: National Library of Scotland, Acc. 13722, box 2, folder 1 16 December 1962 Dear Jessie, This is to wish you well for the year ahead – health for Johnny, and success for the young members of your family, and a good launching to your new book. I look forward to seeing it. I had a request some little time ago to answer for your character (which I did to the best of my ability) in connection with a new post you had applied for under the BBC. I don’t know what came of it (if it is settled yet) though it seemed to me, in private (naturally I didn’t say so) less your type of work than what you had been doing. But I understand your desire to have a good post when Johnny isn’t able for much – Have you still your friend from Elgin? Give her my remembrances and best wishes. And to yourself all that you most want. Ever Nan Shepherd Your old friend Rex Knight is in Hospital, told he must have absolute rest for two months –

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Notes health for Johnny: John Kesson (1905–94), who suffered poor health from the 1960s onwards, leaving Jessie to support their family for long periods. good launching: the launch of Kesson’s new novel, Glitter of Mica (1963). friend from Elgin: Chrissie Hubbard, a long-standing friend of Kesson’s from Elgin. Kesson offered her friend a home while Hubbard explored whether she wanted to live and work in London. Hubbard stayed for several weeks. Rex Knight: Arthur Rex Knight (1903–63), Australian-born Anderson Professor of Psychology at Aberdeen University.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Helen B. Cruickshank Address from: Dunvegan| 503 N. Deeside Rd.| Cults MS: Edinburgh University Library Centre for Research Collections, Gen 1929/18 9 18 July 1963 Dear Helen, I’ve often thought about you these last months when I’ve been slowly coming to myself after nearly going over the edge. I don’t know if Jean Templeton, or any one else, told you that I was snatched up by ambulance men early in April and rushed to hospital for an emergency operation. It’s been a slow climb back to normal life, but the last week or two I’ve been living an ordinary life again, except that I’m quite ready to go to bed about 7 or 8 o’clock in the evening ––– My last public appearance was at the Saltire Conference, which Ian Munro told me he had asked you for. But he said you weren’t too well and I meant to write then but collapsed just a day or two later. Luckily, because I was on the point of starting for a holiday in Rome the following week, and it was pretty sensible to do my collapse before I went away instead of in some odd corner of the Stabian landscape. It might quite literally have been See Naples and die! At the moment I am lying on my garden chair in a blaze of evening sun, which has followed a day of gloom and rain, and my writing pad has gone done except for one sheet [deletion of draft letter to ‘Mary’, with instruction to ‘Ignore all this’] which to my consternation turns out to contain the beginning of a letter I had never finished. So, to save me going into the house for a new pad, I’ll continue your note upon this dishonoured sheet. I do hope you have kept moderately well and that your arrangement about letting half the house has worked. I may, probably shall, come to E’b. next month, but for only five or six days. I had booked for some festival events before I fell ill, but in consideration of the Stabian holiday,

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260   nan shepherd’s correspondence and because I had intended to go to the B. A. meetings in Aberdeen at the beginning of September, I made it only a long weekend – Now I shall come a letter earlier than had meant, so as to rest from the journey (!) before attending any events, but I’ll have to wait and see how much I’m fit for before saying that I’ll hope to see you. I’d like to, very much, but it may not be possible. I’m giving up the Review after the autumn issue, but am meanwhile working on the poems of John C. Milne, an Aberdeenshire poet who died suddenly last December, leaving behind enough for a fair-sized volume (he had already published The Orra Loon), but none of it [deletion] revised for the press, so I’ve been arranging, discarding, and doing all the minutiae of an editor’s job. Love to you, my dear, as ever Nan Notes I don’t know if Jean Templeton, or any one else: Jean Smith Templeton, an old friend of Nan Shepherd’s. Ian Munro: Ian Sherwood Munro (b. 1914), a mutual friend of Shepherd’s and Cruickshank’s who was appointed as lecturer at Aberdeen University. the B. A. meetings: the British Association for the Advancement of Science, which met in Aberdeen at the end of August and into early September. Among the papers presented was one on Scottish castles by Shepherd’s friend W. Douglas Simpson (1896–1968), historian. Simpson was a graduate of Aberdeen University who returned to the university first as a lecturer in history, then as the university’s librarian from 1926 to 1966. I’m giving up the Review after the autumn issue: the Aberdeen University Review, which Shepherd had for some time found to be burdensome. the poems of John C. Milne: John Clark Milne (1897–1962), a contemporary of Shepherd’s at Aberdeen University and a long-standing friend. The two worked together at Aberdeen Training Centre. Following his death Shepherd took on the task of editing his remaining poetry, published by subscription in 1963 as Collected Poems by Aberdeen University Press. The Orra Loon, a poem in Doric, had been published in 1946.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Jessie Kesson Address from: Dunvegan| 503 N. Deeside Rd.| Cults MS: National Library of Scotland, Acc. 13722, box 2, folder 1 18 September 1963

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My dear Jessie, Here is the Press & Journal’s comment. They’ve done you proud, and it’s an engaging picture. I haven’t managed yet to reread the book. Though a copy came for the University Review, I’m not sure that I’ll be able to review it myself, because it’s too late for our autumn number and once it’s out I’m giving up the editorship. It’s become a bit too much for my ageing body! At the moment I’m in the thick of proofreading and ‘make-up’ for the autumn A.U.R., which is why this must be only a brief note. Mary was charmed to have your letter and intended to answer, but her letter-writing always gets put off! And now that she has read your book, I don’t believe she’ll write at all, for she didn’t like the book, on no, she didn’t like it at all. Swearing and sex, when seen in cold print, seem to her inexpressibly evil – though she’ll tell a story (in Scots, of course) with as good a damn in it as the next man’s! I hope Johnnie keeps well and that Ken has quite recovered, and that the birth of the Babe hasn’t unduly burdened you – And luck to the reviews and the sales. Ever yours Nan Shepherd Notes the Press & Journal’s comment: the Press and Journal published an article by Cuthbert Graham (1911–87) called ‘Jessie Kesson’s Hero has a Heart of Granite’ on 14 September 1963, accompanied by a picture of Kesson. the book: Glitter of Mica, published in London in 1963. Graham was very warm in his praise of Kesson as a novelist of the north-east. Mary was charmed: Mary Lawson (1884–1976), Shepherd’s housekeeper and companion. I hope Johnnie keeps well and that Ken has quite recovered: John Kesson (1905– 94); Kenneth Kesson, son of John and Jessie (b. 1946). Jessie Kesson doted on her grandchildren.

From: Neil Gunn, to Nan Shepherd No address MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 26900, f. 137 11 July 1964 Dear Nan, I was delighted to see your name among the learned Doctors in today’s Scotsman. Some considerable time ago I remember having a talk with the

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262   nan shepherd’s correspondence late Prof. Rex Knight & strongly backing his notion that you should be so honoured. We are at last in the same class! I got your letter of understanding when my wife died, & put it aside from many, & then having answered it involuntarily in my mind I one day thought that I had written it – and am still uncertain. My own health has been indifferent since a surgeon did some carving 2 ½ years ago, and medicals are still doing tests & analyses, & I feel tired. However, I can still float out into things, and though the flowers this summer have whiles been too lovely & me looking at them alone, I can deal with them, too, in my (& your) wordless fashion. In this, we have always gone the same way, & it’s a way with silent companionship in it. So if I really didn’t write to you, still I did. Congratulations anyhow. Neil. Notes among the learned Doctors: Nan Shepherd was awarded an honorary LLD by Aberdeen University in 1964. Rex Knight: Arthur Rex Knight (1903–63), Australian-born Anderson Professor of Psychology at Aberdeen University. We are at last in the same class!: Neil Gunn was made an honorary Doctor of Letters by Edinburgh University in 1948. when my wife died: Daisy Gunn had died the previous year.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Neil Gunn Address from: Dunvegan,| 503 North Deeside Road,| Cults,| Aberdeen MS: National Library of Scotland, Dep. 209, box 19, folder 7 19 July 1964 Dear Neil, How good of you to welcome the new girl to the class of Canon and Civil Law! I still think it quite fantastic to be there, although it hasn’t made any difference to me that I’ve been able to fathom. I’m sorry your body has been letting you down. I too have been in the surgeon’s hands. Indeed I nearly died on Good Friday a year past – if they hadn’t rushed me off in an ambulance and howked a bit out of my inside, I’d never have been a doctor at all at all, and wouldn’t that have been a pity? And now, though I am well again, I have to accept stringent limitations on my activities, which, the better I grow, the more I rebel against. I still want to do a lot of living. I’ve given up however the editing of the Abdn. University Review, and though that was great

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fun to do, and enlightened me about many things in and around the University that I wouldn’t have believed otherwise, I’m finding it very good to have my thoughts to myself again after nearly seven years – I can again just be. A cessation of doing in which one begins to know being. Frightening sometimes. One rushes off to do things in order to escape from it. As though human nature were fit for such a miracle as contemplation! There’s one thing about a body that doesn’t function aright: it gives you leisure from too much activity, and at the same time pulls you back by its demands from too deep an immersion in Being. No, you didn’t write earlier but that was no matter. It wasn’t needed – Ever – Nan – Notes the new girl to the class: Nan Shepherd was awarded an honorary LLD by Aberdeen University in 1964. your body has been letting you down: Neil Gunn suffered, sometimes extremely, from facial neuralgia.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Jessie Kesson Address from: Dunvegan| 503 N. Deeside Rd.| Cults MS: National Library of Scotland, Acc. 13722, box 2, folder 1 19 December 1964 My dear Jessie, Did I answer your letter about the J. C. Milne poems? I can’t remember. I hope so, but I have the letter still in my writing-case, which may mean that I didn’t answer. Do forgive me if this is so, because I enjoyed your letter and your reminiscences of your ‘Mitchie-deem’ days. How true that these poems are already social history – except for the ones that I am glad to find you like the best, for I like them best too – ones like the mowdiewarp and the ‘Man’ ones. The dominie ones I can’t deeply enjoy. He himself wanted to publish a volume with a title like Dominie Douchie and we (the memorial Committee) said no, no, no. Have you been doing any work yourself, or have you placed any? I had an evening this week of the young man who is hoping to compile an annotated list of Scottish works of fiction – an earnest young man without much sense of humour, I thought. He asked if he might come & discuss the north-east contribution with me. He told me he’d written to you and had response –

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264   nan shepherd’s correspondence I hope Johnny keeps well – Give him my good wishes and to yourself a warm scarf for your neck in case the winter is a hard one – and my abiding love. Nan Shepherd Notes the J. C. Milne poems: John Clark Milne (1897–1962), a contemporary of Shepherd’s at Aberdeen University and a long-standing friend. The two worked together at Aberdeen Training Centre. Following his death Shepherd took on the task of editing his remaining poetry, published by subscription in 1963 as Collected Poems by Aberdeen University Press. Johnny: John Kesson (1905–94), Jessie’s (1916–94) husband.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Alexander Keith Address from: Dunvegan, 503 North Deeside Road, Cults, Aberdeen MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 3017/1 5 January 1967 Dear Alec, Congratulations on joining the academic peerage – I’m so glad it has come – I was in on this some time ago and didn’t know till yesterday that it had gone through. Cheers – Ever Nan Shepherd Note Alec: Alexander Keith (1895–1978), farmer and author. A contemporary of Shepherd’s at Aberdeen University, Keith worked as an editor at the Press and Journal. He was also a skilled breeder of Aberdeen Angus cattle, and was a prominent figure in Aberdeen circles. He was awarded an honorary LLD by Aberdeen University in 1967.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Lyn Irvine Address from: Dunvegan,| 503 North Deeside Road,| Cults,| Aberdeen MS: St John’s College, Cambridge, NewmanL/A2, 9 Card Feb. 9 [deletion] 4 February 1967

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My dear Lyn, I have heard only tonight – at last – that Janet Adam Smith declines to review the book ‘owing to previous commitments.’ The interim editor tells me also that a copy of the book has arrived for review. Now I spoke to David C. at a chamber music concert recently, and he said he had suggested that failing J. A. S., Margaret Knight might be willing, as a very old friend of Alison, to do it. So I told the interim editor to write to ask her. I’m sorry this transaction has been so long on the way, but actually nothing is lost as far as the Review is concerned, because the autumn number is not yet issued! and it will be some time into the summer before the next one will be ready. I enclose the money for my own copy – Such lovely spring days we’ve been having – Flowers out everywhere – A blessing on the book, and love Nan Notes Janet Adam Smith: Janet Adam Smith (1905–99), a keen climber and a literary figure of stature in London and in Scotland. She enjoyed a significant public profile as an author, critic and reviewer. review the book: Irvine was in the process of publishing a book, Alison Cairns and Her Family (Cambridge, 1967). Katherine M. Wilson wrote the review that appeared in the spring 1967 volume of the Aberdeen University Review. Alison Cairns (1902–59) was a friend and correspondent of Agnes Mure Mackenzie. David C.: David Cairns (1904–92), theologian, Alison Cairns’s younger brother. He held a chair of practical theology at Aberdeen University and published extensively on theological matters. David and Alison Cairns were childhood friends of Irvine. Irvine in turn had attended Aberdeen University and come to know Nan Shepherd. interim editor: Eric Morrison, who had taken over from George Low as editor of the Aberdeen University Review in 1965. Margaret Knight: Margaret Knight (1903–83), at this time a lecturer in psychology at Aberdeen University.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Lyn Irvine Address from: Dunvegan| 503 N. D. Rd.,| Cults MS: St John’s College, Cambridge, NewmanL/A2, 10 Ansd. 19 February 1967 My dear Lyn, It’s compulsive reading – one just goes on and on. How hard you must have worked over it – not of course that it shows the marks of the

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266   nan shepherd’s correspondence hammer and chisel. The writing is like a natural growth. But to have found so much, from so many minds, must have taken time and labour – And the apprehension – inprehension – is delicate and profound – I regret that I did not know Alison. In the Aberdeen years, not at all. Our paths did not cross. Later, I had some correspondence with her over a report on evacuees that I wrote, I think at her request, for a compilation she was making. And still later, I met her when she visited a Saltire meeting in Aberdeen. But that was not enough to let me know the savour of her. Two small points, I think they are misprints. Probably already noted – On P. 82 . . . ‘She went on to say that she had only heard one curlew.’ P. 94 – ‘a full translation – the only one I have ever seen’? I haven’t heard whether Margaret Knight is doing the review. The interim editor isn’t communicative! – too many other commitments. What is your next work to be? Ever with love Nan

}

Sunday Later I had hardly sealed the envelope when David rang. He had had qualms about Marg. K. – lest it might embarrass her to do the review. I phoned the interim ed. & learned that on Sat. she had rung him to say that if she did it she’d want to do it very well & she just couldn’t fit it in to all she was engaged on, and so refused. So there we are. I reported back to D., who had no further suggestions. Have you? If so, the I. E. would be glad to know. N. Notes It’s compulsive reading: Irvine was at this time writing a book, Alison Cairns and Her Family (Cambridge, 1967). I did not know Alison: Alison Cairns (1902–59), a friend and correspondent of Agnes Mure Mackenzie. a report on evacuees: it has not been possible to identify this. Margaret Knight: Margaret Knight (1903–83), at this time a lecturer in psychology at Aberdeen University. interim editor: Eric Morrison, who had taken over from George Low as editor of the Aberdeen University Review in 1965. David: David Cairns (1904–92), theologian, Alison Cairns’s younger brother. He held a chair of practical theology at Aberdeen University and published extensively on theological matters. David and Alison Cairns were childhood friends of Irvine. Irvine in turn had attended Aberdeen University and come to know Nan Shepherd. I. E.: interim editor.

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From: Nan Shepherd, to Lyn Irvine Address from: Dunvegan,| 503 North Deeside Road,| Cults| Aberdeen MS: St John’s College, Cambridge, NewmanL/A2, 11 3 March 1967 Lyn my love, Aren’t you being a little ‘whimsy’ yourself? Agnes Mure Mackenzie never on this earth wrote a sentence like ‘the only one I ever seen’ – she was a fastidious and exact writer. Nor, I am sure, would she have committed the silliness of ‘ever ever’ – she was too direct and economical a writer for that. No, if the letter you quote was in her hand of writ, she was writing rapidly and without revision – if it was typed, the typing was rapid and without revision. Luckily however a reader coming like myself fresh to the reading of it, accepts without question that what was intended was ‘the only one I have ever seen’ – I should say that this was a case where an editor or transcriber was absolutely justified in making an alteration. The intention is so completely clear. I passed on your suggestions to the interim editor, and will probably see him in a day or two and hear what he has done – George Bruce would do the review quite admirably, but he is the very devil to get anything out of! – one has to prod and prod. I’ll let you know. Ever with love Nan Notes interim editor: Eric Morrison, who had taken over from George Low as editor of the Aberdeen University Review in 1965. George Bruce: George Bruce (1909–2002), poet and producer for BBC radio.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Lyn Irvine Address from: Dunvegan| 503 North Deeside Road| West Cults| Aberdeen MS: St John’s College, Cambridge, NewmanL/A2, 12 9 March 1967 Lyn dear, Thank you for sending me this letter, which I have found intensely interesting. I can see why you, looking at the text as laid out on this sheet, should read it as you did. I, coming to it as on the page of your book, saw it with

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268   nan shepherd’s correspondence different eyes. Look & see. It’s like transcribing in a different order the letters of an anagram and suddenly seeing the new word. I read it as a matter of course as a mis-print – ‘ever’, for ‘have’. (Not two mistakes, but one) I still see it so. A. M. M. might well use Scotticisms and facetious twists, but she wouldn’t intentionally make use of a vulgar ungrammatical structure – ‘I seen.’ It’s true that she altered some slips in the letter but that shows that she was typing swiftly and a little carelessly. They are careless slips. And there are no corrections in the first long paragraph, which contains one unconnected slip – lonf for long. /Also two in the next par: transcriptions and would. And an omitted s in was (last par.)/ So I hold to my opinion that she simply was saying: ‘I have ever seen.’ – Unless of course the phrase was a quotation – some absurd little joke that Alison & she shared! Anyway neither of them can tell us now, and it doesn’t really matter. I simply raised the issue because my nose spotted a misprint and like yourself I hate misprints. Your suggestion about lodging the correspondence in a University library interests me – I have a bundle of A. M. M.’s letters some of which have most illuminating comments on literary life in London in the 20’s and 30’s. I feel that the best of them should be preserved – This is worth thinking over – Would you consider Aberdeen University the suitable one? If Douglas Simpson were still there, he would I am sure have grasped at them I don’t know much about the new man. Perhaps he hasn’t Douglas’s acquisitiveness! Ever Nan So glad of the flow of orders. Notes A. M. M.: Agnes Mure Mackenzie. Alison: possibly Alison Cairns (1902–59), a friend and correspondent of Agnes Mure Mackenzie. Douglas Simpson: W. Douglas Simpson (1896–1968), historian, was a graduate of Aberdeen University who returned to the university first as a lecturer in history, then as the university’s librarian from 1926 to 1966. Regardless of Shepherd’s suspicions about his replacement, Shepherd’s collection of Agnes Mure Mackenzie’s letters were taken by the library, where they remain.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Lyn Irvine Address from: Dunvegan Address to: Mrs. Newman| Cross Farm| Comberton| Cambridge MS: St John’s College, Cambridge, NewmanL/A2, 13 Saturday [11 March 1967]

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Saw the Pro-tem editor y’day – Having failed with the other two, he had written George Bruce so I hope your added stimulus will work the trick. – I sat next Harold Watt at the Alumnus Committee meeting & he said he had read 2/3 of the book and enjoyed every minute of it. Nan Notes Pro-tem editor: Eric Morrison, who had taken over from George Low as editor of the Aberdeen University Review in 1965. George Bruce: George Bruce (1909–2002), poet and producer for BBC radio. Harold Watt: Harold Watt (1921–2003), managing director of Aberdeen University Press.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Edith Robertson No address MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 3046/2/5/38 17 December 1967 My dear Edith, The book is delightful. Its format is very attractive, and the delicate drawings are have distinction. I like especially the Katie Dempster one, which has an eerie desolation on it. It reminds me of some of Claire Leighton’s Wuthering Heights illustrations. The sense of wind also in The Thrastle Stane drawing is most cunningly conveyed – You have in some of these poems a singing quality, a way of making the words lilt, that is very beautiful, – as in the line, ‘I laid my son lonely in a lonesome place’, or ‘why byde ye twa by yon wizzened Tree – ’ or ‘Pale Candlemas steers in her shroud’ – And there are graphic pictures that stay in the memory, as in the boy’s bauckles – ‘Till he sparkit the cobbles Wi’s tackety shoon’, or the first dozen lines of The Twa Herds. I like very much indeed The Auld Bedrel. Bisset’s bookshop was selling quite a number of the books. You’ll be glad to have it out. How are you? And is the new house a happy one for you? I send you my best wishes for Christmas and for a good year ahead, and my love. Ever yours Nan Shepherd

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270   nan shepherd’s correspondence Notes The book is delightful: Edith Robertson’s (1883–1973) Collected Ballads and Poems in the Scots Tongue was published by Aberdeen University Press in 1967, with illustrations by Ailie Matthews. the Katie Dempster one: Matthews’s image is of black with white etched relief, and shows a man digging what might be Katie’s grave by lamplight. Claire Leighton’s Wuthering Heights illustrations: Clare Leighton (1898–1989) illustrated Emily Brontë’s novel in a 1931 edition. Her drawings of the moorland scenery are quite stark. The sense of wind also in The Thrastle Stane drawing: the illustration for this poem shows everything except the kirk steeple canting over at an angle, the wind seeming to blow from outside the book through it, and through the two women apparently fleeing from the wind in the image. ‘I laid my son lonely in a lonesome place’: from ‘The proditor’. ‘why byde ye twa by yon wizzened Tree – ’: from ‘Ballad of The wizzened tree’. ‘Pale Candlemas steers in her shroud’: from ‘Pale Candlemas’. ‘Till he sparkit the cobbles Wi’s tackety shoon’: Shepherd seems to have in mind ‘Across the waters’, though the line as Shepherd writes it appears nowhere in this volume. Bisset’s bookshop: a prominent bookshop in Aberdeen, run by James Bisset.

From: W. S. Angus, to Nan Shepherd Address from: 8 St Mary’s, Bootham, York YO3 7DD MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2737–52/81 7 November 1968 Dear Miss Shepherd Thank you for your letter of 4 November. I am very glad to hear that you propose to write about my Aunt Minnie for the Deeside Field special number, and will thus be able to put on record some details about her life. Of course I shall be very happy to help you, as far as I can. But at this starting stage, I cannot help you as far as I would wish, though I can give you some indications which you or I might follow. Marion Emily Angus was born in Sunderland, as were all her brothers and sisters. I don’t know the date, but it would be about 1864. I don’t know the address, but it was in a house in a terrace in the south side of town. Her father was the Reverend Henry Angus, who graduated at Marischal College in 1852; there is a note about him in the Roll of Graduates. ‘He resolved, however, to accept the call to Sunderland, and was ordained there, in Union Chapel, on March 2, 1859’ (Sermons by the late Rev.

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Henry Angus, edited, with a Memoir of his life, by his son, the Rev. Robert Angus; Aberdeen, A. Brown and Co., 1861) (This is a Memoir of Henry Angus I, Minister of St. Nicholas Lane U. P. Church, Aberdeen. Minnie’s father was Henry Angus II, his third son, and her elder brother, Henry Angus III, was my father). If Rev. Henry Angus II was ordained in Union Chapel, he may not have been minister of that chapel. I have understood that he was minister of a church in the Presbyterian Church of England, but I may be wrong. It must have been about 1875 when he accepted a call to the Erskine U. P. Church, Arbroath. He died in 1902, and was buried in the West Cemetary [sic] in Arbroath. His widow remained in Arbroath until 1903, or at least until late in 1902, and then moved to Inchgower, Cults. She died about ten years later, and I am fairly certain that she also was buried in the West Cemetary at Arbroath. I think that the private school conducted by Marion and Ethel must have begun before their mother died. You could check that by asking John Duthie, Bleaton Hallett, Bridge of Cally, Blairgowrie, when he attended it. Minnie and Ethel gave up the house at Cults after the war began in 1914. Ethel was a V. A. D., and was injured in an air raid while she was working in a base hospital in Calais. I landed up in it with ’flu in May 1918, and there was a certain Miss Bridges working there who remembered Ethel and told me how she had been cut by falling glass fragments. Minnie worked in a canteen at the army camp at Stobbs. She was much exhausted by this work, with its long hours and hard conditions, but she spoke after it with the greatest respect and admiration for the ordinary private soldiers, and their simple good sense and kindliness. After the war, Minnie and Ethel set up house together in Peebles. I stayed with them there, in the summer of 1919. Their uncle, the Reverend Robert Angus, had been a minister in Peebles, but I don’t know how well they knew the place. They were friendly with a bank manager called Buchan, and his mother and his sister – there was another brother, called John, a publisher, who wrote novels which Minnie despised. But they never felt that Peebles was an abiding city. Minnie was in Aberdeen, about 1921 or 1922, and in a bank she met a friend who said she wanted to sell a house, and Minnie bought it, more or less on the spot. This was Zoar, in Springfield Road. That is as far as I can go at present towards answering your questions. Is it worth while: 1.  To write to Somerset House and ask when Minnie was born, and where? 2.  To try to find out from the Presbyterian Church of England whether they can give the name of Reverend Henry’s church in Sunderland, and when he left it? 3.  To find out, through Scottish church channels which you may know better than I, the dates of the Reverend Henry’s ministry in Arbroath?

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272   nan shepherd’s correspondence 4.  To find out dates of deaths of the Reverend Henry and his wife Mary? The West Cemetary at Arbroath might give burials rather than deaths, but I suppose that the Register House in Edinburgh might have information. Would you like to pursue any or all of these enquiries, or would you wish me to do so? Would you find it useful, now or later, to talk over these details and anything else? If so, would you like to come here for a night or two? My wife and I would be very glad to see you, and we have spare beds during term, when the young ones are in their respective colleges – John in Staffordshire, Charles in Aberdeen, and Marion at Roehampton. Yours sincerely William Angus Notes you propose to write about my Aunt Minnie for the Deeside Field: Shepherd’s article ‘Marion Angus as a Poet of Deeside’ was published in the Jubilee Issue of the Deeside Field in 1970 (pp. 8–16). my Aunt Minnie: Marion Angus, sister of W. S. Angus’s father Henry (b. 1864). buried in the West Cemetary: the family plot, bought in 1877. His widow: Mary Jessie Watson (1837–1914). the private school: to bring in money to a family with little income (Marion Angus’s father having died suddenly in 1902), Marion and her sister Ethel took in private pupils. Ethel was a V. A. D.: member of the Voluntary Aid Detachment. the army camp at Stobbs: Stobs, a prisoner of war camp near Hawick in the Scottish Borders. there was another brother: the novelist and statesman John Buchan (1875–1940), who wrote adventure novels set in the area around Peebles and Broughton during and after the First World War. To write to Somerset House: until 1970 the General Register Office, the government body responsible for holding all documentation relating to births, deaths and weddings, was based in Somerset House in London.

From: Revd Kenneth Macmillan, to Nan Shepherd Address from: St Columba's Manse,| 8 Dalhousie Place,| Arbroath,| Angus MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2737–52/48 18 November 1968

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Dear Miss Shepherd, Our records show that Mr. Angus became minister of Erskine U. P. Church in 1876, and his ministry went on until 1900. I hope this information will be of help to you. Yours sincerely, Kenneth Macmillan Note Mr. Angus: the Reverend Henry Angus (b. 1834).

From: W. S. Angus, to Nan Shepherd Address from: 8 St Mary’s, Bootham, York YO3 7DD MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2737–52/49 19 November 1968 Dear Miss Shepherd Thank you for your letter of 10 November. I am sorry that I have not been able to reply sooner. You have been able to look up my father’s date of birth, while I was trusting to memory when I attemted [sic] to calculate the approximate year of Marion’s birth. But if he was born in 1864, she was probably born in 1866. I shall try to write to Somerset House, and let you have any information which I find. Now about Marion’s maternal ancestry, and the Guthries. The first authority for what follows is Marion’s life of her gradfather [sic] – Marion Angus, Sheriff Watson of Aberdeen, published by the Daily Journal and D. Wyllie and Son, Aberdeen, 1913. You can probably find a copy in a library, but if you want to see one, I could lend it. William Watson, the son of a farmer at Westoun near Carnwath, was born on 5 April 1796. He was a student at Edinburgh University, became a W. S. in 1820, and came to Aberdeen in 1829 as Sheriff Substitute for Aberdeenshire, having become engaged to Marion Weir, of a Lanarkshire family, whom he married. His elder son, William, graduated in medicine at Aberdeen, and went into the Indian medical service. He and his brother John were there during the mutiny. John was an army lieutenant, was wounded at Lucknow, came home and returned to India after furlough, but died soon after. The Sheriff’s daughter (Mary) married the Rev. Henry Angus II. The next authority is J. Lindsay, In Memoriam: William Watson, M. D., I. M. S, reprinted from the Transactions of the Edinburgh Field Naturalists’ and Microscopical Society (no date, but referring to death of William Watson, 16 June 1912; printed by William Blackwood and Sons). Mr Lindsay says that Dr Watson married in 1867, retired from the

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274   nan shepherd’s correspondence Indian Medical Service in 1883 with the rank of Deputy Surgeon-General, and died at the age of 80 (born 19 March 1832). He does not say whom William married, though he says she survived him. The third authority consists of notes which I have collected and made from time to time; and I am reasonably certain that the genealogical table from which I am quoting was made up after a conversation with Sandy Guthrie. He lived at Spylaw, near Edinburgh. I never met him until after Minnie’s death. Dr. William Watson married his first cousin, Margaret Tweedie Anderson, born 1842, daughter of the Sheriff’s sister Catherine, b. 1814, married Laurence Anderson. Margaret’s elder sister Mary Stodart Anderson, b. 1840, married a Guthrie, and they had two sons, Tom, a doctor in Tunbridge Wells, and Patrick Alexander, b. 1871, accountant in Edinburgh; married; two adopted children – a boy who died young, and Wendy, who did not keep in touch with me after her father died – 1953? Sandie Guthrie told me of his relationship to a famous preacher called Guthrie, and was surprised and disappointed that I had never heard of the preacher. But I was not brought up to be familiar with Edinburgh preachers of the middle of the last century. I made no note of Sandie’s relationship to the preacher, or the preacher’s Christian name – and I have a vague recollection that the Christian name was important because there was another Reverend Dr Guthrie who was prominent about the same time. I had heard of Tyrone Guthrie on many occasions before he came to Aberdeen to receive an honorary degree, but I had no inkling that he was a family connection, or related to Sandie Guthrie. After the graduation, he told the Principal that he wanted to speak to me, because we were cousins, and did so. I only hope that I did not allow my surprise to overcome consideration. But I still don’t know how Tyrone Guthrie fits into the genealogical table. According to Who’s Who, Tyrone’s father was Thomas Clement Guthrie, surgeon, who might well have been Sandie’s elder brother Tom, the doctor in Tonbridge Wells; but I have never bothered to pursue the matter. If it is of any interest to you, one could write and ask Tyrone Guthrie for information. Would you like to do that, or would you like me to do that? He might even know who the famous preacher was! Are you thinking of any illustration of your article in the Deeside Field? I ask because I have one copy of a much pleasanter photograph of my aunt than the photograph in the Selected Poems – which incidentally is not the selection I would myself have made. Yours sincerely W. S. Angus. P. S. I do not remember that I ever met Dr William Watson, but I do remember staying with his widow, probably in 1912 or 1913, in a large house called The Lea, Corstorphine. She was known in the family as Aunt Tweedie, and was reputed to be well off and a personality. She had no children.

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Notes my father’s date of birth: W. S. Angus’s father was Marion Angus’s elder brother, Henry. I shall try to write to Somerset House: until 1970 the General Register Office, the government body responsible for holding all documentation relating to births, deaths and weddings, was based in Somerset House in London. became a W. S. in 1820: Writer to the Signet, a type of Scottish solicitor entitled to supervise the use of the King’s Signet. William Watson: Marion Angus’s younger brother, born in 1869. Sandy Guthrie: Marion Angus’s second cousin, Patrick Alexander (Sandy) Guthrie. a famous preacher called Guthrie: Tyrone Guthrie (1803–73), who began preaching in Edinburgh in 1837. He was a charismatic preacher and active philanthropist, involving himself in many charitable causes throughout his career. Tyrone Guthrie: Sir (William) Tyrone Guthrie (1900–71), an innovative theatre director who achieved international recognition as a result of his theories around performance space. He was the great-grandson of Tyrone Guthrie the preacher. your article in the Deeside Field: Shepherd’s article ‘Marion Angus as a Poet of Deeside’ was published in the Jubilee Issue of the Deeside Field in 1970 (pp. 8–16). the photograph in the Selected Poems: Selected Poems of Marion Angus, edited by Maurice Lindsay (1918–2009), poet, historian and broadcaster, with a ‘Personal Note’ by Helen B. Cruickshank, was published in Edinburgh by Serif Books in 1950.

From: W. S. Angus, to Nan Shepherd Address to: Miss Shepherd| 503 North Deeside Road, Cults, Aberdeen Address from: 8 St Mary’s, Bootham, York YO3 7DD MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2737–37/49 26 November 1968 Dear Miss Shepherd Thank you for a further letter, 23 November. I enclose a copy of The Lilt and Other Verses; by all means keep it if you wish; I have three other copies. You will see that most of the verses in it appeared again later, though I think not quite all of them. I have written to Somerset House, and in reply I have received the appropriate form, which I have completed as far as I can, and will despatch with the appropriate fee; and I shall tell you of the result. Ethel died in 1935, 1936, or 1937 – most likely 1936. It was in the summer. She died in or near Greenock, perhaps in Glasgow. She was buried in the West Cemetary [sic] in Arbroath, and you could obtain the date

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276   nan shepherd’s correspondence of her burial from the Cemetary. I do not remember when she became ill and when she left Zoar, or when Minnie gave up living at Zoar; nor do I think that I have any record. But I think that it must have been about 1926 or 1927 that Ethel left Zoar. Would you think it worth while to ask one of your lawyer friends whether it would be easy to find out when Minnie bought Zoar and when she sold it? My impression is that, under the Scottish system of registration of transfer of titles, it would be no great matter to find that out. But how one does it, I do not know. I should have asked Harry Butchart or one of the lads in the office! I came across the photograph a week or two ago, when I was looking for something else. Now that I want it for you, I cannot put my hand on it. So I shall look again for something else. It is not so very far away. Yours sincerely W. S. Angus Notes The Lilt and Other Verses: by M. E. Angus, the volume was published in Aberdeen in 1922 by D. Wyllie and Sons. I have written to Somerset House: until 1970 the General Register Office, the government body responsible for holding all documentation relating to births, deaths and weddings, was based in Somerset House in London. Ethel died: Marion Angus’s sister, and W. S. Angus’s aunt, died in 1936. I do not remember when she became ill and when she left Zoar: Ethel suffered a severe mental breakdown in 1930 after which she was admitted to Glasgow Royal Asylum at Gartnavel. In order to care for her sister, Marion Angus sold her house, Zoar, in Aberdeen. I should have asked Harry Butchart: Colonel Henry Jackson Butchart (1882– 1971), graduate of Aberdeen University in 1905. From 1920 he was Secretary, then Law Agent, to the university.

From: W. S. Angus, to Nan Shepherd Address from: 8 St Mary’s, Bootham, York YO3 7DD MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2737–52/51 9 December 1968 Dear Miss Shepherd Thank you for your letter of 6 December. Hunter and Gordon were the law agents who acted for my aunt in the years before her death. I have written [deletion] to ask them whether they have any note of the

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date when she bought Zoar or when she sold it. I have not yet received a copy of the birth certificate from Somerset House. So I hope to write to you again. Yours sincerely W. S. Angus Notes when she bought Zoar: Zoar was the name of the house bought by Marion Angus on Springfield Road in Aberdeen in 1921. After the serious illness of Marion’s sister Ethel, the house was sold and Marion moved to the Central Belt to be closer to her sister who was now in hospital in Glasgow. birth certificate from Somerset House: until 1970 the General Register Office, the government body responsible for holding all documentation relating to births, deaths and weddings, was based in Somerset House in London.

From: W. S. Angus, to Nan Shepherd Address from: 8 St Mary’s, Bootham, York YO3 7DD MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2737–52/25 11 December 1968 Dear Miss Shepherd The copy of the birth certificate has arrived. It shows that Marion Emily Angus was born on 27 March 1865 at 23 Park Place West, Sunderland, Co. Durham, the residence of her father Henry Angus, Minister of the Gospel, and her mother Mary Jessie Angus, formerly Watson. So Miss Helen Cruickshank was not quite exact, in her Personal Note to the Selected Poems, when she said that Marion Angus was born in 1866, and that she was ‘at the age of eighty’ when she died on 18 August 1946. Yours sincerely W. S. Angus Note Miss Helen Cruickshank was not quite exact: Helen B. Cruickshank had contributed a ‘Personal Note’ to the Selected Poems of Marion Angus, edited by Maurice Lindsay (1918–2009), poet, historian and broadcaster, and published in Edinburgh by Serif Books in 1950.

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From: Nan Shepherd, to Edith Robertson Address from: Dunvegan, 503 North Deeside Road, Cults, Aberdeen, AB1 9ES MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 3046/2/5/44 19 December 1968 My dear Edith, How are you all this long time? I hope you have had some real satisfaction from your published volumes. Is the creative urge still working? I think you are a wonderful creature not to lose your spiritual and mental élan. I feel so flattened in my old age! living at a low tempo and achieving nothing – except the production of a few flowers in my garden and a few visits to people older than myself. And a one-and-a-half-year-old to play with on occasion. Aberdeen grows fuller and fuller and Cults is no longer a village. The houses stretch up and up the hill as far as my childhood’s play-ground, the Quarry Wood. But at least they can’t build up my view in front, where the ground goes down too steeply to the river. So I still rejoice in space and distance and the sky. I hope Christmas will find you among your children somewhere, and that the year ahead will be good to you. Ever affectionately Nan Shepherd Notes all this long time: Shepherd and Robertson corresponded in the 1930s (see Shepherd’s letter to Robertson, MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 3046/2/5/44, 17 January 1931, p. 95), but it had been many years since they last exchanged news. your published volumes: Robertson had by the 1960s achieved considerable success as a religious writer and as a poet. Her Collected Ballads and Poems in the Scots Tongue, illustrated by Ailie Matthews, had been published in 1967 by Aberdeen University Press.

From: Helen B. Cruickshank, to Nan Shepherd Address from: 4 Hillview Terrace, Corstorphine, Edinburgh 12 MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2737–52/47 22 January 1969

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Dear Nan, I am so glad to hear you are to do an article on Marion Angus for the special number of the ‘Deeside Field’, and I have at last had time to hunt up the letters, press-cuttings etc I have about her. You will, I assume, have a copy of the selected poems which Maurice Lindsay & I worked on. I am now sending you the contents of my Boxfile regarding this, for you ‘to mak a kirk or a mill o’t’. Marion’s letters are teasing to read, and as she never dated them, almost impossible to read in chronological order. The postage stamps or envelopes might have given a clue, but unfortunately most of these were cut out by three Dutch children I looked after for 2 months after the Second World War. They had a passion for British stamps, and raided my desk in my absence one day in their enthusiastic search for stamps. My collaboration with Maurice Lindsay was rendered more difficult than need be, as he was unable to find time to see me at my house, and I was then confined to the house with a very lame foot. (Indeed, on the occasion when I interviewed Mr Guthrie of Colinton in search of news of Marion, I had to go by taxi & keep it waiting while I spoke with him.) Much later I learned from Mr William Angus that I had been slightly misinformed on certain facts on that occasion. Only after Miss Dot Allan’s death, and many years after her donation of £100 had made possible the publication of Marion’s poems, I was able to inform Mr William Angus that she was the anonymous donor. She had impressed on Mr Lindsay that her name must not be disclosed. You may see a mention of Mr Malcolm Thomson’s name in one of Marion’s letters. He was then running the ‘Porpoise Press’ from London. (It was subsequently merged in Faber & Faber) I was then (for 7 years) Honorary Secretary of P.E.N., and Mr Thomson on several occasions got me to act as ‘go-between’ in his desire to get her poems for publication by the Porpoise Press. As you know, I am now in my 83rd year, and am gradually trying to tidy up such literary archives as I possess. I have already donated most of my Scottish books (including many signed first-editions of contemporary Scottish poets) to the University of Stirling. The National Library, of Edinburgh, have already earmarked my Hugh Macdiarmid correspondence etc, and, IF they are willing to accept it, may I ask you to be my ‘go-between’ in depositing the enclosed Marion Angus papers with the Aberdeen University Library after your purpose is served. I shall be grateful and relieved if you will do this. Yours affectionately Helen B. Cruickshank Notes an article on Marion Angus: Shepherd’s article ‘Marion Angus as a Poet of Deeside’ was published in the Jubilee Issue of the Deeside Field in 1970 (pp. 8–16).

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280   nan shepherd’s correspondence selected poems: Selected Poems of Marion Angus, edited by Maurice Lindsay (1918–2009), poet, historian and broadcaster, with a ‘Personal Note’ by Helen B. Cruickshank, was published in Edinburgh by Serif Books in 1950. Marion’s letters are teasing to read: Cruickshank’s assessment is accurate. Angus’s hand is extremely poor, and few letters have any dating beyond the naming of a day. Mr Guthrie: Marion Angus’s second cousin, Patrick Alexander (Sandy) Guthrie. Mr William Angus: Marion Angus’s nephew, who corresponded with Shepherd about his aunt. See Angus’s letter to Shepherd, MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2737–52/81, 7 November 1968 (p. 270). Miss Dot Allan: the pen name of Eliza MacNaughton Luke Allan (1886–1964), Scottish novelist from Glasgow, who responded to a press appeal requesting financing for the Selected Poems of Marion Angus. Mr Malcolm Thomson: George Malcolm Thomson (1899–1996) was a journalist and publisher who, alongside Roderick Watson Kerr, founded the Porpoise Press in Edinburgh in order to promote Scottish literary culture in the 1920s. The Porpoise Press published a number of volumes of Angus’s poetry, typically in strikingly coloured volumes. may I ask you to be my ‘go-between’: Shepherd completed this task on Cruickshank’s behalf, and Marion Angus’s papers are now kept in Aberdeen University Library’s Special Collections.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Helen B. Cruickshank Address from: Dunvegan| 503 North Deeside Road,| Cults,| Aberdeen MS: Edinburgh University Library Centre for Research Collections, Gen 1929/18 11 26 January 1969 My dear Helen, This is a bumper bundle – I haven’t worked my way through it yet. As you say, M. A.’s letters are sometimes snorters to get through. Maurice Lindsay’s are occasionally not much better! In due time I shall offer them to the University Library – if Douglas Simpson had still been alive they’d have been eagerly accepted. I don’t know much about the new man – Drummond by name – but I believe he is a very good technical librarian and not particularly literary. However we’ll see. If anyone in the future should wish to write a thesis on Marion Angus, or even include her in a thesis, there would be matter here for such work. I wonder if I ought to add the letters I still have from her, mostly written in the unhappy years when she so abruptly left Aberdeen because of Ethel’s illness, and before she began coming back summer after summer to Deeside. That makes them rather sombre, and she was by no means always that. She had a very pretty irony when she liked.

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Thank you for the Akros number. I hadn’t seen this one, and was glad to find a sympathetic review of your book in it: though I resent the remark that this volume may be regarded as your ‘Collected Poems.’ That simply invites readers to disregard the things in the other volumes that aren’t here. Someday I suppose someone will put you in a thesis – if we are left to live in a world where such matters are given any consideration. Odd to think that a few hundred years hence, Marion Angus & you may be dug out of oblivion together, in an age that has more peace for scholarship than we seem likely to have. We had Eric Linklater as guest of honour at our Saltire dinner, and he didn’t go down well ––– he has thickened in more senses than one, mind as well as body – He wasn’t even witty. Instead of an after dinner speech he gave us a sort of lecture, a sheaf of pages from what may be part of another book – and lost a page and fluttered around and went on without it. Subsequently I think he found the missing page without realising it, for /as/ he read aloud there was an alarming non-sequitur! He did however please me by giving a quotation from Agnes Mure Mackenzie and forcibly announced his belief that her contribution to Scots history was of unique value – I was glad, because she seems to have vanished from the literary horizon. One never hears of her. Or does one in Edinburgh? On Monday Ian Munro picked me up at 3, when he had finished an early day’s work, and ran me over to Catterline and down to watch the waves crashing over the pier – then up for tea with Mary & Robin – and Robin took me back in the evening on his way to the literary society. A very pleasant interlude. You said you were going to Dr. Mary Clarke at Christmas – how is she? You told me once how badly she was suffering. And how are you yourself? I hope none the worse of your festivities and ‘outs’ as Mrs. Guppy called them. Is Jean well, and her family? Marion Clarke told me recently that her niece Alison in Wick is about to have a new baby – her fifth in eight years or so – Some of these young women today seem to choose to have their children as rapidly as their Victorian greatgrandmothers /were compelled to have theirs./ Deirdre has a second son only 17 months after the first one – The aconites are in bloom – also two pink hepaticas and a snowdrop or so. Much love Nan I sat next David Murison at the 40th. anniversary supper of the Scots Literature and Song Society. Notes M. A.’s letters are sometimes snorters: Marion Angus’s handwriting is indeed quite appalling, and it became worse as Angus’s health declined in later life.

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282   nan shepherd’s correspondence Maurice Lindsay: Maurice Lindsay (1918–2009), poet, historian and broadcaster. Lindsay had edited Selected Poems of Marion Angus, published by Serif Books in 1950. Douglas Simpson had still been alive: W. Douglas Simpson (1896–1968), historian, was a graduate of Aberdeen University who returned to the university first as a lecturer in history, then as the university’s librarian from 1926 to 1966. I don’t know much about the new man: Henry J. H. Drummond, who had served as assistant librarian in 1951 before being promoted in 1966. abruptly left Aberdeen because of Ethel’s illness: Marion Angus lived in Aberdeen with her sister Ethel, not far from Shepherd and her family in Cults. A devastating collapse of Ethel’s mental health in 1930 necessitated her admittance to Glasgow Royal Asylum at Gartnavel. Marion Angus moved south to the Central Belt of Scotland to be better able to visit her sister while she was in hospital. Thank you for the Akros number: a literary magazine edited by Duncan Glen (1933– 2008) and published from 1965 to 1983, intended to promote Scottish letters. Eric Linklater: Eric Linklater (1899–1974), Welsh-born Scottish poet and novelist. Linklater had been a student at Aberdeen University and had built up a considerable reputation as a writer in a range of genres. Ian Munro picked me up: Ian Sherwood Munro (b. 1914), a mutual friend of Shepherd’s and Cruickshank’s who was appointed as lecturer at Aberdeen University. Munro’s wife Mary and his son Robin were also known to Shepherd. Dr. Mary Clarke: it has not been possible to identify this individual. Mrs. Guppy: it has not been possible to identify this individual. Is Jean well, and her family: Jean Smith Templeton, an old friend of Nan Shepherd’s. She had at least one daughter, who graduated from Edinburgh University with an ordinary degree in 1941. Marion Clarke: likely Marion Clarke, who was born in 1900 in Stornoway. It is probable she became friendly with Agnes Mure Mackenzie, who was also from the town, and through her, a friend of Nan Shepherd. Further details remain elusive. I sat next David Murison: David Murison (1913–97), lexicographer. He was editor of the Scottish National Dictionary, in which capacity he did a huge amount to change the contemporary attitude to Scots as a language worthy of celebration and recognition in Scotland. He and Shepherd exchanged some letters about the history of Scots usage in Scottish literature. See Murison’s letters to Shepherd, MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 27438, item 11, 10 January 1952 (p. 188); and MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 27438, item 14, 14 January 1957 (p. 201). Deirdre has a second son: Deirdre, daughter of Sheila Clouston (1918–92), whose son Roderick had recently been born.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Helen B. Cruickshank Address to: Miss H. B. Cruickshank| 4 Hillview Ter.| Corstorphine| Edinburgh Address from: Dunvegan

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Stamp: ABERDEEN 1.45PM 5 FEB.1969 A Endorsement: Replied, with photo of Marion Angus MS: Edinburgh University Library Centre for Research Collections, Gen 1929/18 12 4 February 1969 My dear Helen, I wonder if you can advise me over a point: Is permission necessary for quoting from Marion Angus’s poems to illustrate various points in an article? I have quoted fairly freely, much the same amount, I should think, as in the article I wrote long ago for the Scots Magazine. The editor of the Deeside Field rang me up this afternoon to put the question. [Deletion] The Deeside Field is not a publication for sale but is given to all members of the D. F. Club. I certainly never asked for permission to quote in the Scots Mag. Article – The president of the Club, Tony Wyness, evidently got into trouble from a poet whose poem he quoted in the Royal Valley, his book on Deeside, after having asked for, and received, permission! The poet wrote to him in wrath, demanding to know how he had dared, etc. etc., and had to be confronted with his own letter before he was convinced. Therefore friend Tony is chary of taking risks. He is even afraid to print a portrait of M. A. which her nephew has offered me, in case there should be copyright difficulties, which I should think most improbable – the photographer who took it, perhaps forty years ago, is probably out of business now anyway. There was a letter among the mss you sent me from Marion Lochhead which had no reference at all to M. A. and I have taken it out from the others. Its third page was marked 3, and I wonder whether that was actually sheet 3, and there is a missing sheet which was the one relevant to the M. A. theme – Probably not of great importance? Sheila’s new grandson, born on Christmas Eve, is to be christened in Bonnyrigg on Feb. 23, and Sheila and I are coming down for the weekend – Sheila will spend the time with Deirdre, but I am hoping to take time to see several friends, including yourself. Is there any time on the Saturday, or /the/ Friday evening, that is not suitable for you? I want to see the Duncan Campbells. Betty Macmurray’s nephew – you remember the night he came up with me when I left my spectacles behind? – and probably they’d have more engagements than you and so I’ll wait to see when I can see you them before saying when I’ll come to you. We’ve just had another wild snow storm, and then as last time a sudden slushy sloppy thaw. But there are primroses ga snowdrops galore and hundreds of aconites, and a few primroses and hepaticas. So spring will come – My love to you, my dear – Ever yours Nan

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284   nan shepherd’s correspondence Notes to illustrate various points in an article: Shepherd was preparing an article on her old friend, the poet Marion Angus (1865–1946), ‘Marion Angus as a Poet of Deeside’, that would eventually be published in the Jubilee Issue of the Deeside Field in 1970 (pp. 8–16). in the article I wrote long ago for the Scots Magazine: published in 1947, the year after Angus’s death. D. F. Club: the Deeside Field Club. the Royal Valley: by Fenton Wyness (1903–74), published in 1968. which her nephew has offered me: the offer was made by Angus’s nephew W. S. Angus in his letter to Nan Shepherd dated 19 November 1968, pp. 273–4. Marion Lochhead: Marion Lochhead (1902–85), writer and social historian. Sheila’s new grandson: Roderick, son of Deirdre, Sheila Clouston’s (1918–92) daughter. I want to see the Duncan Campbells: a reference to the combined household of Shepherd’s long-standing friends John (1891–1976) and Betty Macmurray (1891–1992) and their nephew Duncan Campbell, and his large family.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Helen B. Cruickshank Address from: Dunvegan| 503 North Deeside Road,.| Cults,| Aberdeen MS: Edinburgh University Library Centre for Research Collections, Gen 1929/18 10 10 February 1969 My dear Helen, Thank you very much for the photograph but I’m not going to use it. I’ve written to William Nephew to ask whether his portrait is professional and whether he feels strongly one way or another about reproducing it. So far I’ve done nothing about Faber & Faber – what about the late small volume issued by Gowans & Gray? Are they (G&G) still extant? I’m in no great hurry, so I’ll wait for action till after I’ve seen you. If it’s all right for Jon, I’ll come out to you on Friday evening – the Duncan Campbells have asked me to lunch & for the afternoon on Saturday, and Sunday will be taken up with the christening and so on. Sheila & I should reach E’b at 3.30 on Friday and I’ll pitch my tent somewhere in a handy hotel and come out to you. If I bring some food with me, may I come and eat a meal with you – six or so? Or later if you prefer it. – I was interrupted yesterday in writing this, and don’t remember what else I meant to say. I’ll go through the contents of your envelope again before I see you. I have already arranged the letters in chronological order, which is easy even when they are not dated. My quotations by the way in the article are mostly one line, two line or four line – snatches to illustrate points.

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Lovely to see you. If it’s all right my coming out about 6 on Friday 21st., don’t trouble to answer – Love Nan. Notes I’ve written to William Nephew: a reference to Marion Angus’s nephew William S. Angus, with whom Shepherd had corresponded at length about his aunt’s life and poetry. See Angus’s letter to Shepherd, MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2737–52/49, 19 November 1968 (p. 274). Their discussions were in service of an article Shepherd was writing on Angus, with Cruikshank’s assistance, titled ‘Marion Angus as a Poet of Deeside’, which would be published in the Jubilee Issue of the Deeside Field in 1970 (pp. 8–16). the late small volume issued by Gowans & Gray: The Tinkers Road, and Other Verses, published by Gowans & Gray in 1924. The firm no longer existed by the time this letter was written. the Duncan Campbells: a reference to the combined household of Shepherd’s long-standing friends John (1891–1976) and Betty Macmurray (1891–1992) and their nephew Duncan Campbell, and his large family. Sheila & I: Sheila Clouston (1918–92).

From: Nan Shepherd, to Helen B. Cruickshank Address from: 503 N. D. Rd.| Cults MS: Edinburgh University Library Centre for Research Collections, Gen 1966/1–35, 26 24 November 1969 My dear Helen, Of course you may use what you want of my article on Hugh McD. And as I’ve just come from a Review committee meeting, I mentioned the matter to the Editor, and have his permission also. It’s such an old affair that I’ve forgotten what’s in it! – it was originally a W. E. A. lecture – the then editor was my Chairman and asked for it for the Review. As not a word for /it was/ written, I had then to set to work and write it all down ––– For the Marion Angus – I had no difficulty at all in getting permission from Faber for what I wanted to use, and I should think it’s their permission that matters rather than Wm. Angus’s. All the same, I am sure that Wm. (now by the way Dr. – LL.D. at our last grad) would certainly appreciate being asked, or told anyway that you were speaking of his aunt. His address is 8 St. Mary’s, Bootham, YORK, YO3 7DD. I had written you a note just last night, but am not sending it quite yet! It is to come with my Christmas Card to you, which is the small volume of Charles Murray’s Last Poems, issued by Aber. Univ. Press, and

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286   nan shepherd’s correspondence due out by the end of this week. So you’ll get the other note when the book comes – Ian Munro’s mother came back with them after the funeral & stayed till last Friday, when she left by train (not liking long journeys by car) – Robin was to meet her in Glasgow. Did I tell you that R. starts with Glyndebourne in Feb. as A. S. M.? He seems meanwhile to be up to the neck in Glasgow poems, plays and players – Stewart Conn is a friend. I’ve told you about George Bruce coming here in the note you’ll get later – to record me for Scot. Life & Letters on Dec. 14. I do hope you’ve recovered from your horrid ailments. I’ve had ten days of a bronchial cold but have been out y’day and today. Love as ever Nan Notes my article on Hugh McD: ‘The Poetry of Hugh MacDiarmid’, published in the Aberdeen University Review in November 1938 (pp. 49–61). the then editor: William Hamilton Fyfe (1878–1965), who was also the principal of Aberdeen University. William Angus: Marion Angus’s nephew, with whom Shepherd was acquainted through correspondence. See Angus’s letter to Shepherd, MS: Aberdeen University Library Special Collections, MS 2737–52/81, 7 November 1968 (p. 270). William S. Angus had served, from 1952 to 1967, as Secretary to the University of Aberdeen. small volume of Charles Murray’s Last Poems: Charles Murray: The Last Poems, edited by Nan Shepherd and with an appreciation of his writing by her, was published by Aberdeen University Press in November 1969. Ian Munro’s mother: Ian S. Munro (b. 1914), writer and radio playwright. Munro worked at the Aberdeen College of Education, and as a result knew Nan Shepherd. It has not been possible to establish the identity of his mother. Robin: Robin Munro, poet, and Ian S. Munro’s son. He worked for a time at Glyndebourne opera house as an assistant stage manager. Stewart Conn is a friend: Stewart Conn (b. 1936), a playwright and poet who was born in Glasgow before living in Ayrshire and Edinburgh. He also worked for the BBC, becoming head of radio drama towards the end of Nan’s life. George Bruce: George Bruce (1909–2002) was, like Conn, a poet who also worked as a producer for BBC radio. He was co-producer of the radio programme Scottish Art and Letters.

From: Nan Shepherd [incomplete], to [Neil Gunn] No address MS: National Library of Scotland, Dep. 209, box 19, folder 7 [No date, around 1970]

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[Letter starts abruptly] they can get their moments of enlightenment through a mechanical contraption and turn it off and on at will. And that is a destroying notion too, destroying the slow processes (and I don’t know what they are) by which the mind itself is sensitised to receive its enlightening knowledge. I’ve wondered about this – at one time I used to try to induce the right sensitivity, by deep relaxation, by stringent discipline; but it’s rather like the way religious writers tell how for all their self-abrogation the vision refused to come and the dark night of the soul descended on them. Later there might come an unheralded moment of revelation, and they called that grace. I suppose it’s what I mean by the light and the sensitised receiver fusing – an experience one wouldn’t exchange for a world of mechanical contraptions that can produce ‘revelation’ at will, for the sheer shock of joy that such moments give is a renewal of life itself. Such moments, I find, are fewer now than they used to be. Does one lose the power, or the sensitivity? The schoolboys, by the way, found that older people couldn’t use their amplifiers as they did – the younger boy was the more fully sensitised. Very Wordsworthian. Ah well, I meant only to tell you how glad I am that the world feels like it wants you. You are so good for the people who think they can explain everything. Ever Nan Wordsworthian too the boys’ fastening their amplifiers above a beating pulse – ‘felt along the blood.’ Note ‘felt along the blood.’: from Wordsworth’s ‘Lines Composed a Few Miles Above Tintern Abbey’ (1798): ‘Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart.’

From: Neil Gunn, to Nan Shepherd No address MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 26900, ff. 138–9 24 August 1970 Dear Nan, It was wonderful seeing your handwriting again. I have often thought about you, & still think that some of your poems about ‘finding yourself’ in remote places are about ‘the greatest’, if I may use a joyous colloquialism! For after all, though these boys with their Japanese gadgets stuck onto a beating pulse, are supposed to receive ‘revelation’ – well, it’s all a yarn! I have done a fair amount of reading on the ‘revelations’ that follow

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288   nan shepherd’s correspondence on a dose of certain drugs (Aldous Huxley was quite interesting about his experiences); not to mention other means of inducing a ‘transcendental’ state; but they all remind /me/ of the remark that a Hindu scholar-philosopher made (more years ago than I care to remember) in a weighty tome about achieving ‘samadhi’ (revelation) to the effect that such drugs &c induced what he described as ‘false samadhi’: which remark he relegated to a footnote; or take another way of looking at it: the more you experience of the genuine light or enlightenment the more profoundly it irradiates even the flesh; whereas the more drugs the more diseased the flesh (& mind) becomes. As to your remark about the ‘sheer shock of joy’ that true moments of revelation induce get fewer with age – that is more difficult, though I would venture this: that if you have cultivated the habit of enjoying the light, the light will be there in the dark moments. So when a youth with a Japanese toy says age diminishes the light (enlightenment, delight, &c) reread one of your own old poems & sit still in the middle of it. At which point, luckily for you, I was called away! I haven’t had very good health these last months. A long bout of trigeminal facial neuralgia was very painful & exhausting. So let me set forth an observation of mine own: when you have no energy left you are left with nothing, not even an old fond theory, yet the pithless body (pain being absent) can seem to float on light instead of an /a/ depressive darkness. I remember a saying from Shorean, the American, which as teenagers we would joyously spout: ‘Give me health & a day & I will make the pomp of emperors ridiculous’. Without energy You /one/ can’t write – well, aren’t you /one/ lucky? Two professors (one American, one Japanese) pursue me, however, for they really believe that I have written important works. The devious Highlander can, however, wangle out of most things. From all of which you can see that your letter fairly set me going, & a memory of some of your Grampian (or thereby) poems warmed my ancient heart /(& not so ancient as all that!)/. Pleasant memories! Neil Notes Aldous Huxley was quite interesting about his experiences: Aldous Huxley (1894– 1963), novelist, wrote about his experiences with the drug mescaline in The Doors of Perception (1954). Two professors: the American professor is likely Francis Russell Hart, who would go on to write a biography of Gunn, published with John B. Pick in 1981. The Japanese professor is likely Tokusaburo Nakamura, who published monographs on Gunn in Japanese.

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From: Neil Gunn, to Nan Shepherd No address MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 26900, f. 140 [No date, around 1971] Dear Nan, Give that chap Simpson what he wants. I’ve striven against publicity but it’s no use. He kept after me about letters & only last night I found some old ones praising me, & I’ve just sent them off – too late I imagine – or hope. After they’d studied my trigeminal [deletion] /facial/ neuralgia /they didn’t operate/ so I am back with nerves intact but feeling weaker than ever. 50 pills & capsules for me. ‘They’ means the experts in Edinburgh Western hospital. But I’ll write to you when I’m surer of the meaning of simple words. In my search I came across some of your old letters. Marvellous – & you prove it by quotes. You’re like a lovely day on the hills. Yours Neil Notes that chap Simpson: Stanley Simpson (1932–2004), Assistant Keeper of the Department of Manuscripts at the National Library of Scotland, Edinburgh. neuralgia: facial neuralgia, from which Gunn had suffered for some time. One potential remedy was to cut the offending nerve, an option rejected by Gunn’s doctors.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Helen B. Cruickshank No address MS: Edinburgh University Library Centre for Research Collections, Gen 1929/18 12 17 April 1971 Helen my dear, I pictured myself, as soon as the postal strike was over, rushing to resume contact with all the friends I hadn’t been in touch with by phone,

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290   nan shepherd’s correspondence but oh dear, the disinclination to write grows on me ––– And you? Did you manage to use the interregnum to get on with the book? and is it finished yet? and going ahead without any more snags? I very much hope so. Nothing much happens up here. We had our Lewis Grassic Gibbon Exhibition in the Art Gallery, as you may have heard – to coincide with the first showing of Sunset Song. The Director of the Art Gallery said that many hundreds of people poured in to see it. I was myself only half impressed, as I am by the television version – I liked the first incident very much, it seemed to me to set the scene well, Chris was excellent, and her mother admirably done – I liked the brother Will too (but am badly annoyed by Long Rob of the Mill, a measly little specimen who quite ruins the feeling I have about him) but progressively as it goes on I like it less – Last night’s seemed to me not much above the ‘Bothy nicht’ standard – And the falsification of the landscape, with those dummy monoliths, irritates me – The actual dummies used in the shooting stood for three weeks in our gallery, and I disliked them more and more! I wouldn’t say all this to Ray, who is, Ian Munro tells me, ill in hospital – The other week Sheila & Mary and I were ‘up the Noranwater’ – we had spent three days at Kenmore, and came home by back roads round by Kerriemuir and Edzell – The garden is full of colour – I hope you are well enough to be in yours now & then & to see things grow. I sent for a copy of the Four Points of a Saltire, of which you told me – The two Gaelic writers I find it difficult to be sure of – of the truth of your reactions, I mean, since the English versions can’t say what the Gaelic do. But I liked both Neill and the young doctor Stewart Macgregor. I did write earlier, didn’t I, to say that I was very glad you were an Hon. Member of the Association for Scottish Literary Studies? Ever with love Nan Notes to get on with the book: Collected Poems, published by Reprographia of Edinburgh, appeared in 1971. our Lewis Grassic Gibbon Exhibition: held at the Aberdeen Art Gallery and timed to coincide with the BBC production subsequently mentioned by Shepherd. the television version: Sunset Song was broadcast by the BBC in 1971, the first colour drama produced by BBC Scotland. Chris was excellent: played by Vivien Heilbron, who won general acclaim for her role. Will was played by Paul Young, and Long Rob, by Derek Anders. Ian Munro: (b. 1914), writer and radio playwright. Munro worked at the Aberdeen Training Centre, and as a result knew Nan Shepherd.

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Sheila & Mary and I: Sheila Clouston, Mary Lawson and Nan Shepherd. The phrase in quotation marks is the title of Helen B. Cruickshank’s first volume of poetry, Up the Noran Water, published in London by Methuen in 1934. Four Points of a Saltire: a volume of poetry by Sorley MacLean, George Campbell Hay, William Neill and Stuart Macgregor, published in Edinburgh by Reprographia in 1970. Sorley MacLean (Somhairle MacGill-Eain, 1911–96) and George Campbell Hay (1915–84) both wrote in Gaelic. Hon. Member: the Association for Scottish Literary Studies (ASLS) was founded in 1970. Records from the early period of its founding are scant, but Cruickshank would have been one of the first writers to be awarded honorary membership.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Helen B. Cruickshank Address from: Dunvegan| 503 N. D. Rd.,| Cults MS: Edinburgh University Library Centre for Research Collections, Gen 1929/18 13 6 June 1971 My dear Helen, I had good intentions of answering at once your enquiry anent A. Univ. Press, but the days fly past, and before I’ve got back from a daily visit to the hospital, I’m usually too tired to write coherently – Mary gave us some anxiety when her big toe went black, and various sores on her feet refused to heal, and we had visions of gangrene setting in. They have however now given her some pills to help her circulation, and her skin is again looking human and not a grey wrinkled animal’s hide – The x-ray reveals good healing at the break, so that’s to the good. The bone was splintered. For the University Press – they do beautiful work. Good paper, good print, pleasant volumes – but they’re cursed dear. Very expensive indeed – The J. C. Milne volume we were able to finance because of the many subscriptions given as a memorial to the man when he died; and as the book ran through three editions it did eventually pay for itself and we were able to give the widow a sum of money in addition. The little Chas. Murray volume was initially paid for out of the money in hand in the Murray Trust, and it too eventually just paid for itself. [Deletion] Lilianne Grant Rich’s volume of poems, now in its second edition, I don’t know the innards of, but have no doubt that she financed it herself. How far its sales may go towards recouping her I’ve never enquired. It must also be noted that the U. Pr. are printers and not publishers. They do not undertake advertising and distribution, both of which must be met by the author. And there I have jabbered on all this time and not said how aghast I am at your treatment by your firm who asked you to do the book. It is scandalous. Asking for the money back is so mean that one wants to kowk. Beasts.

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292   nan shepherd’s correspondence I’m afraid there is little help to you in this. I’d of course more than gladly recommend your poems to Harold Watt of the A. U. P. if you did think of approaching him. There would I suppose be no harm in enquiring about probable costs. I may say that he (H. W., the manager) has before now asked my opinion over a ms. he has been asked to print. He won’t issue anything that he doesn’t approve! Hasinish and Ambuinsuidhe in Harris were most satisfying. One day we saw St. Kilda – Marion is well – My love to you – Nan Notes A. Univ. Press: Aberdeen University Press. Mary gave us some anxiety when her big toe went black: Mary Lawson (1884– 1976), Shepherd’s housekeeper and companion, who had been involved in a car accident which broke her leg badly. While Lawson recovered in hospital Shepherd visited her every day. Although the X-ray Shepherd reports here gave grounds for hope, Lawson’s leg eventually succumbed to infection and was later amputated. The J. C. Milne volume: John Clark Milne (1897–1962), a contemporary of Shepherd’s at Aberdeen University and a long-standing friend. The two worked together at Aberdeen Training Centre. Following his death Shepherd took on the task of editing his remaining poetry, published by subscription in 1963 as Collected Poems by Aberdeen University Press. The little Chas. Murray volume: Charles Murray: The Last Poems, edited by Nan Shepherd and with an appreciation of his writing by her, was published by Aberdeen University Press in November 1969. Lilianne Grant Rich’s volume of poems: The White Rose of Druminnor, and Other Poems, published by Aberdeen University Press in 1969. your firm who asked you to do the book: it has not been possible to identify the firm in question, or the project they had commissioned from Cruikshank. Harold Watt of the A. U. P.: Harold Watt (1921–2003), managing director of Aberdeen University Press. Marion is well: likely Marion Clarke, who was born in 1900 in Stornoway. It is probable she became friendly with Agnes Mure Mackenzie, who was also from the town, and through her, a friend of Nan Shepherd. Further details remain elusive.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Neil Gunn Address from: Dunvegan,| 503 North Deeside Road,| Cults,| Aberdeen MS: National Library of Scotland, Dep. 209, box 19, folder 7 28 September 1971

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Dear Neil, How are you? The last time I heard you’d been bedevilled with neuralgic pain, a nasty spiteful sort of pain. I hope you’ve been reasonably free from it lately. The National Library mutter something about an eightieth birthday – which shouldn’t really surprise me since two or three months later I’ll have a seventy-ninth. Old codgers, ain’t we? but still with an eye to the dew and the morning. About that eightieth – the National Library (as you may have heard) are putting on an exhibition to honour you. I have some of your old letters – reading them now I can see that I kept them from sheer exhilaration over the stupendous things you used to say about my work, conceited little brat I was. But there is also in some of them some interesting lights on your own workin-progress. Am I allowed to lend these letter to the National Library? I’d have to read them all again to pick out the ones that have relevance to what they are asking for. And of course if you didn’t want them lent I shan’t lend them. I’ve had an odd sort of year – my eighty-seven year old housekeeper-companion, who has been over sixty years in the household, was knocked down in April by a car, and after twent-one [sic] weeks in hospital, where I visited her every day, has come home with an artificial leg which she is learning to use with verve and gusto, though she still needs a lot of attention and care. Three times while she was in hospital I took a week off & went to Harris, to Barra, and to Skye – Barra I loved, its flowers, acres of wild thyme in bloom, and the tiny pink bog pimpernel – its malachite seas – its cockle strand – And my week on Skye was of such fantastically lovely weather that one didn’t believe it – And there too I saw a fantastically fat man, straight out of the sea and scarlet from face to toes, clad in nothing but a tiny scarlet bikini, who held a gate open for me with the dignity and courtesy of a prince. Ever yours Nan Notes bedevilled with neuralgic pain: Gunn suffered considerably from severe facial neuralgia for several years, which medical interventions did little to alleviate. housekeeper-companion: Mary Lawson (1884–1976), Shepherd’s housekeeper and companion.

From: Neil Gunn, to [Nan Shepherd] No address MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 26900, f. 141 11 November 1971

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294   nan shepherd’s correspondence How you’ve been in my mind! Turning over some old letters – dear me! But you were marvellously searching. Where? Inside & out. And I know Barra, too. And then a fellow from Grampian TV called and I told him what I had done for other TV & was too tired to repeat myself, but, says I, I know someone who could deal with me in an interview much better than I could myself, so I gave him your address. I haven’t heard what happened but I may learn some time. I haven’t been too well as I may have mentioned, & though I’m following the specialists’ instructions I’m not getting much stronger. Tiresome lassitude. It may be the drugs. So forgive this short note. But you can let the fellow who’s after letters & the Nat Library get all he wants within your wisdom Neil Note a fellow from Grampian TV called: there was much attention focused on Neil Gunn as he approached his eightieth birthday, including a TV programme and film, in addition to a planned exhibition at the National Library of Scotland, for which Gunn’s letters were being sought from his correspondents. The programme was broadcast as part of Grampian Week, mentioned by Shepherd in her next letter to Gunn (13 November 1971, below).

From: Nan Shepherd, to Neil Gunn Address from: Dunvegan,| 503 North Deeside Road,| Cults,| Aberdeen,| AB1 9ES. MS: National Library of Scotland, Dep. 209, box 19, folder 7 13 November 1971 Neil my dear, Peace to your tormented nerve-endings – Pain is somehow worse when it attacks close to the brain. I suppose a big toe could be equally painful, and disturb the mind as much, and yet it doesn’t diminish one in the same way as pain in the head – I wish one could do something to help you bear yours. Sedatives, as you say, eat up one’s vitality, and it’s a heavy price to pay for the cessation of pain – For the letters – I gave the National Library six and told them to choose what was most suitable to their purpose. They selected a long one that I myself thought the best, one that could be brassily translated as saying that the critics didn’t understand you and I did. Can you wonder that I chose it? They exhibited it under glass with a brief note attached. The exhibition on the whole was interesting and attractive – but I’ve no doubt you’ve already been told about it. I liked very much by the way George Bruce’s

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essay on you in the little brochure accompanying the exhibits – Very perceptive, whiles, our George – For the Silver-Tongued Grampian TV representative, he rang up me up on the very birthday and asked if I’d be interviewed about you on a Grampian Week programme the next day. I said it didn’t give me much time (to think about you, I meant) but I’d be willing to do it. He said it might be postponed till the next ‘Grampian Week’ and he’d consider asking me again later in the day. When he did so he said he had rung you in the interval and you’d refused to be filmed even in silent film, and they’d decided to drop the project ‘for the time being.’ What threat is implicit in that phrase I don’t know. Anyway that’s how it is. I listened to the ‘Grampian Week’ the next day and thought it very trivial – If I’d been in it it would have been only for a minute or so. Long enough of course to say that you knew about well water. Do you remember saying to me once that people didn’t want well water – they didn’t know they needed it? Nan – Notes your tormented nerve endings: in later life Neil Gunn suffered from intense facial neuralgia. He found attacks debilitating, and medical interventions did little to alleviate the discomfort. For the letters: in celebration of Gunn’s eightieth birthday the National Library of Scotland held an exhibition at George IV Bridge, Edinburgh. Other festivities included a television show broadcast on Grampian TV and a movie. Gunn found involvement in these events exhausting. George Bruce’s essay: George Bruce (1909–2002), poet and producer for BBC radio, who had interviewed Gunn as part of the televisual celebrations of his birthday, wrote an introductory essay on Gunn to accompany the National Library of Scotland exhibition.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Helen B. Cruickshank Address from: 503 N. Deeside Rd.| Cults MS: Edinburgh University Library Centre for Research Collections, Gen 1929/18 14 9 March 1972 My dear Helen, How glad I am to know that you are home again, and not too badly obstructed in the business of living. I was talking today on the phone to Mary Munro, and so got the very latest report. I’m enclosing a pair of

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296   nan shepherd’s correspondence stockings for you to wear just to show that you aren’t ‘laid up.’ Don’t think I am being extravagant – they were a gift from someone who certainly quite correctly observed that I have big feet, but didn’t allow for their skinniness. I couldn’t possibly fill these out, so please wear them for me. I’ve been asked by the Aberdeen Branch of the Saltire to do a talk in the autumn on north-east poetry in the last quarter century or so – to gather up the many strands and threads and themes and make some sort of pattern of them. I may count you in as a part of my pattern, mayn’t I? Cuthbert Graham says, yes, distinctly you are part of the north-east – the North Esk is looked on as a sort of boundary line between the nor-East and Angus – May I use you? Read one or so of your poems? I haven’t really given a mind to it yet and don’t know just what pattern there will be in my tapestry, but it will have J. C. Milne and Flora Garry and George Bruce in it, and some young men like Kenneth Wood and Ken Morrice (probably quite unknown to you!). It’ll grow and take shape as I give it consideration. I see also by the P. E. N. report that came in this morning that Aberdeen is to have a P. E. N. luncheon in June – It’s the first I’ve heard of it, tho’ to be sure I don’t nowadays attend any P. E. N. meetings – The notice says that the north east members are arranging the luncheon and I am wondering who the north-east members are! The only one I remember is little May Jenkins – Are you able to go out into your garden? Mine is alive, with small buds half through the earth that are to be glory of the snow and scilla and dogtooth violets in a few days’ time. One piece of forsythia, one gentian – A thousand snowdrops – Golden crocuses protected from the beaks of my bird population by black pepper – but the purple ones, for the first time in my experience, torn to shreds. Sheer spite, I fear. Be well, my dear. All my love to you Ever, Nan Notes on the phone to Mary Munro: likely a daughter of Ian S. Munro (b. 1914), writer and radio playwright. Ian Munro worked at the Aberdeen College of Education, and as a result knew Nan Shepherd. Cuthbert Graham says, yes, distinctly you are part of the north-east: a journalist, historian and poet, Cuthbert Graham (1911–87) was instrumental in establishing the reputation of writers in the north-east, and promoting promising younger writers through his column in the Press and Journal. The River North Esk rises in the eastern Cairngorms before flowing into the North Sea south of Stonehaven.

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it will have J. C. Milne and Flora Garry and George Bruce in it, and some young men like Kenneth Wood and Ken Morrice: John Clark Milne (1897–1962), Flora Garry (1900–2000), George Bruce (1909–2002), Kenneth Wood (b. 1922) and Ken Morrice (1924–2002). Shepherd had known several of these poets for a number of years. The only one I remember is little May Jenkins: it has not been possible to identify this individual.

From: Nan Shepherd, to [Jessie Kesson] No address MS: National Library of Scotland, Acc. 13722, box 2, folder 1 [Christmas 1973] Some craiturs with a nice impident grin to wish you well. [Card text: With| Best Wishes for Christmas| and the New Year] I’ll write later on when the great British Post Office has less to do! Love Nan Shepherd Note [Christmas 1973]: dated using the card design details. The design came from a 1973 competition won by Rosalind Campbell (aged thirteen).

From: Ken Morrice, to Nan Shepherd No address MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 27438, item 31–2 26 December 1977 Dear Nan Shepherd, I started writing this poem after a family time up the Quoich; and I returned to it with some enthusiasm after reading your ‘Living Mountain’. Your book is (as they say) really something. Rarely can such acute observation be matched by a gift for poetic expression. ‘Gentle’ it is not: powerful, muscular, vivid, experiential. . . . The experience of reading it stays with me.

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298   nan shepherd’s correspondence In gratitude and considerable admiration, I have dedicated this little poem to you. I hope you will accept. Maybe I’ll submit it for publication somewhere soon. Perhaps Cuthbert Graham would find it acceptable. With kind regards, Ken Morrice The High Mountain (for Nan Shepherd) We quit the car, glad to ease cramped townsmen’s muscles, and take the slant path to lonely farmhouse, past its scatter of turkeys, hens and pheasants, to thump and clump across the bridge’s span (white throat of water), across great beams and gable-ends of rock, peering down into the secret beryl of the stream. Ahead looms Ben a’ Bhuird, humped like a vast leviathan, an ancient monster shouldering the sky. And challenging our eager journey – man’s bold trespass into this fearful fastness – a stag, on very edge of high plateau, bellows harshly. We stop to look and listen. But know the path must lead us where we go. Ken Morrice. Notes Ken Morrice: Ken Morrice (1924–2002), poet and psychiatrist, born in Aberdeen. up the Quoich: the River Quoich is a tributary of the River Dee, rising near Braemar in the southern Cairngorms. your ‘Living Mountain’: The Living Mountain had been published by Aberdeen University Press in October 1977, more than thirty years after its composition. It was reviewed enthusiastically by Cuthbert Graham in the Press and Journal on 27 October 1977. perhaps Cuthbert Graham would find it acceptable: as well as reviewing literature, Graham was also at this time editing an anthology of Scottish poetry. The Press and Journal: North-East Muse Anthology was published in 1978. Though it featured two of Morrice’s poems, it did not feature this one.

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From: Nan Shepherd, to Jessie Kesson Address from: 503 N. Deeside Rd. Cults. MS: National Library of Scotland, Acc. 13722, box 2, folder 1 22 July [1978] Jessie my dear, I was delighted to see your handwriting this morning, though with a horrid pang because I’d not done what I’ve been meaning to do for a while – tell you how much I’d enjoyed your Apples. For yes, I’ve had it, and no, the copy you sent has not arrived. It seems an odd way of doing, to send it by rail. Things sent by rail (and people do use that means for more bulky goods, or as far as I know for smaller things also, because it’s cheaper) but they seem to take an unconscionable time in the way – No, the copy I have came to me by Cuthbert Graham, and I won’t say just now why it gave me pleasure, for I’m hurrying to get this posted – I’ll write again. [Deletion] Perhaps by then British Rail may have disgorged the booty! Love – Nan Shepherd Note how much I’d enjoyed your Apples: Where the Apple Ripens, Kesson’s (1916–94) new novella, which would later be reprinted as the title story of a collection in 1985.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Jessie Kesson Address from: 503 N. Deeside Rd| Cults| Aberdeen MS: National Library of Scotland, Acc. 13722, box 2, folder 1 28 July 1978 My dear Jessie, Your hoo-ha evidently was effective. The volume came skedaddling up post haste yesterday morning. Thank you very much indeed. I can now tell you that what I had before was your page-proofs, which had been sent to Cuthbert Graham and which he passed on to me. I’d have bought the whole book had I been in a bookshop. But nowadays, being old and not so mobile, I go very very seldom to town. So now I can read the rest of New Writing. And let me congratulate you on being accepted for publication

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300   nan shepherd’s correspondence there. As well as being a boost to your reputation it will introduce readers to you who might not otherwise have known you. It’s a good photograph – and Avril Wilborne? Is that your Avril? I realize I never knew her last name. As for Isabel – she is of course first cousin to the little lass of The White Bird, and to Jess of all the books. With in this instance the emphasis laid on the awakening sensitive nerves of the body. Well rendered – The expectancy and the almost intolerable tension and the release: though I’m glad you didn’t let her know so young as all that what real [deletion] release could be like. Perhaps Mistress of None will express that – As usual I find pleasure in the way you use words. These brief half-sentences are like a long dialogue with by the mind with the mind. And here & there a sentence strikes in: ‘Remember things you hadn’t even known were memories.’ – ‘the important things that happened to folk fell out of time altogether’ – Yes, it’s an achievement. I hope all goes well otherwise in your life? Are you still working with the auld bodies? And how is Johnny? And the grandchildren? I’m glad your Mongol girl poem is to go in the new edition of the Northern Muse – isn’t it? C. G. certainly meant so. Ever with love Nan S. Notes The volume: Kesson’s (1916–94) novella, Where the Apple Ripens (1978), reprinted as the title story of a collection in 1985. and Avril Wilborne?: Avril Wilborne was Jessie Kesson’s daughter, born in March 1938. Isabel: Isabel Emslie, the protagonist of the title story in Where the Apple Ripens. The White Bird: The White Bird Passes, Kesson’s 1958 semi-autobiographical novel. Jess: many of Kesson’s novels and stories were at least partly autobiographical. Mistress of None: Kesson’s projected autobiography, which was never written. the auld bodies: Kesson at this time worked as a housekeeper at an old people’s home. Johnny: John Kesson (1905–94), Jessie’s husband. your Mongol girl poem: ‘For Cheryl, a Mongol Girl’ was published in the NorthEast Muse Anthology, edited by Cuthbert Graham (Aberdeen: Aberdeen Journals, 1978, p. 73). C. G. certainly meant so: Cuthbert Graham (1911–87).

From: Rus Hart, to Nan Shepherd No address MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 27438, item 33 20 January 1979

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Dear friends of the Neil M. Gunn biographical project, Please excuse this impersonal and brief way of reporting to you on the State of Things. I am still here, but only for five days more, and then I must be away home to the U.S.A., where lots of other jobs await! Library research at the National Library of Scotland is virtually complete. John Pick is drafting one section of a biography of Neil, and when I get back to my own writing room in Hingham, Massachusetts, I will draft another. We now have a wealth of materials for a long, full, lively book. We hope to complete it within the next twelve months. We are applying for aid to the Scottish Arts Council, and will be approaching interested publishers this coming Spring (believe it or not: Spring IS coming). We are far along in the difficult process of negotiating an agreement with the present representatives of the Estate of John Gunn, owners of Neil’s papers and copyrights, which will allow us to do an authorized biography, using numerous excerpts from the materials they own. Naturally, they wish the family to play a supervisory role in the biographical process, and naturally the authors feel that they must be free to interpret the subject responsibly in their own way. I am confident that Alisdair and Diarmid Gunn, John Pick and I, all anxious that the project go forward, can find a reasonable way of accommodating these different interests in a satisfactory agreement. Let us end with two things: (1) John and I are very excited about the book and think it can be an interesting, readable, unacademic, varied story. But we continue to need your help. If you have further thoughts, reminiscences, documents to share with us, we do hope you will get in touch, resting assured that we will let you determine how much use is made of what you supply. (2) You can reach us as follows, from about 1st February 1979 on: Francis Russell Hart John B. Pick 5 Mann Street (Crow Point) 9a Long Lane Hingham, Massachusetts 02043 Billesdon U. S. A. Leicester England Many thanks, and goodbye for a while. Rus Hart [Handwritten] Your letter said a tremendous amount in a few words, and I thank you. Notes Long, full, lively book: Neil M. Gunn: A Highland Life by Francis Russell Hart and John B. Pick was published in 1981 by John Murray.

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302   nan shepherd’s correspondence Alisdair and Diarmid Gunn: nephews of Neil Gunn. Diarmid Gunn wrote a foreword to Hart and Pick’s book.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Jessie Kesson Address from: 503 N. Deeside Rd, Cults, Aberdeen AB1 9ES Address to: None MS: National Library of Scotland, Acc. 13722, box 2, folder 1 12 August 1979 My dear Jessie, Several times a few weeks ago I was about to write you to ask if I’d missed Dear Edith, for I kept looking for it and not finding it. And then last Sunday there it was, and exactly at a time when I was engaged to go out and couldn’t hear it. (There was no radio in the house I was in.) But I was much annoyed by Alan Bold, who introduced it in Radio Times and said your old lady was garrulous. Now from your own very vivid description when you were here, I gathered that she was shut in upon herself and only gave herself out when she wrote those letters to Edith. (I didn’t like Bold’s own stuff!) Anyway disappointed though I was not to hear it, I’m glad it’s had its time and hope you yourself weren’t disappointed in it. One’s own work is never what we thought or felt it, when it comes over through someone else! Do, if you can, let me know when the other thing is to come off. I’d be deeply sorry to miss it. I know how you must have felt when you went home and felt over the days in the north. Giving up to someone else what one has held inside on for a lifetime is a queer experience and some may suffer (I know I did once) one abeting [sic] against oneself. But that does pass. And perhaps one gains new light on one’s own experience by it. I ought to have written on the other side, but felt it would be an intrusion on the birdies. Love to you, my dear Nan Notes missed Dear Edith: Kesson’s (1916–94) radio play about a solitary resident of an old people’s home, which was broadcast by the BBC. It later became a short story in the collection Where the Apple Ripens (1985). Alan Bold: Alan Bold (1943–98), poet and literary critic. He was a prolific poet and editor of Hugh MacDiarmid’s work, though he had interests across Scottish literature. I ought to have written on the other side: as Shepherd often did in her later letters to Kesson, she wrote on a card. This one has two hand-painted pictures of birds,

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one on a cherry bough, the other on a nest. There is a small clear space between the two images where Shepherd might have written further.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Daphne Hendry Address from: Dunvegan| 503 North Deeside Road| West Cults| Aberdeenshire MS: Private collection of Leith Penny, used by permission 27 September 1979 Dear Daphne, I hope the Allegro behaved as you hoped, and that Lindy liked it. At least you got good weather for the journey – I had a good journey too; we got our snack at the Wooden Spoon, then went over Dava moor to Forres and so to Longmorn. On Sunday I was taken to Garmouth, to see my old student stricken for many years back with Schlerosis (is that the spelling?) and found her very much frailer than last year – in bed all the time, going blind and quite helpless. Then on the way back we called in at the next house to my friends’ to see if they had collected the Sunday papers, & found that they had guests for lunch – Lady Taylor and her sister-in-law Miss Taylor – Principal Tom Taylor’s widow & sister. I was very happy to see Nellie, for she is on the point of leaving Aberdeen for Edinburgh. She said she’d have been phoning me before she went. She has sold her flat and is to live (two rooms of her own) in a Club – her daughter & family have come home from Canada and are settled in E’burgh. Then on Monday I was taken home – but oh, the long journey which I enjoyed but was very tired by. We went up Glenlivet to Tomintoul, over the Lecht to Ballater – then Andrew (the driver) said, We’ve plenty of time, is there anywhere else you’d like to go? And his wife said, Oh, have we time to go to my favourite glen, Glen Muick? Plenty of time – and off [deletion] we went, 9 miles up and 9 miles back. It was lovely and I enjoyed it, but by the time we reached Dunvegan and I made tea & gave them some things out of the garden, I was done! Never mind, one revives! I’ve copied out bits of the poems you wanted. There are 13 stanzas of the Kipling and I didn’t feel like copying it all. But if you can’t find it under its title or first line I’ll copy it in full. It isn’t after all in the Auden anthology but in one called the Albatross Book of Living Verse, a Collins publication dated 1933. Since coming home I’ve had three requests for ‘a little assistance’. I’ve refused to attend the Hamewith night of the Scottish Language Society and say ‘a few words’, but I’ve undertaken to suggest something to a wifie (a nice wifie) who having holidayed in Islay and Barra has been told by her W.R.I. that she can tell them about her holiday, and who is petrified by having this to do! I’ve been in Barra and can help her out there. The other commitment is to the Senior Citizens’ Cults Choir, who are to have an item

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304   nan shepherd’s correspondence in their Christmas concert – slides of the Seasons, and will I please give them short poems or prose by poets, snatches to be read as the slides succeed one another on the screen. As I haven’t seen the slides, this is rather a shot in the dark, but I’ll give them ample choice and they can use them or leave them as they please. Thank you again, my dear, for making my visit so good. I loved it all and am more than grateful to you for giving me so much of your time. Don’t forget to have a look at your wooden chest to see if it is any good for being painted. If not, or if it couldn’t be transported here, perhaps one of Sheila’s will do. And finally, good going to all the various enterprises of the writer. Willie’s autobiography will be past by now! Very much love Auntie Nan Notes the Allegro: Daphne’s new car, an Austin Allegro. that Lindy liked it: Lindsay Penny, the elder of Daphne’s two daughters. Lady Taylor and her sister-in-law Miss Taylor: Helen ‘Nellie’ Margaret Jardine, who married Sir Thomas Murray Taylor (1897–1962) in 1939. Sir Thomas became principal of Aberdeen University in 1948. It has not been possible to trace the identity of his sister. Andrew: it has not been possible to trace this individual. the Auden anthology: likely W. H. Auden’s (1907–73) monumental 1952 anthology Poets of the English Language, edited by Auden and Norman Holmes Pearson. The poem described by Shepherd here is ‘The Last Chantey’, which was included in The Albatross Book of Living Verse: English and American Poetry from the Thirteenth Century to the Present Day, edited by Louis Untermeyer (London: William Collins, 1933, pp. 507–9). the Hamewith night: likely a reference to a night in honour of Shepherd’s old friend, poet Charles Murray (1864–1941), writer of the acclaimed Hamewith (1900). Shepherd had recently edited Hamewith: The Complete Poems of Charles Murray. Willie’s autobiography will be past by now!: likely a reference to Elizabeth Penny, the younger of Daphne’s two daughters. Her family nickname of ‘Willa’ briefly migrated to ‘Willie’, though no record of an autobiography has been found.

From: Marris Murray, to Nan Shepherd No address MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 27438, item 34–5 30 September 1979

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Dear Nan Shepherd, This paper scratched with the tracks of a drunken honeigolloch: cortisone and an arthritic wrist, I hope you will be able to read them, [deletion] /is/ to say ‘Thank you.’ Thank you for all the trouble and time you have spent on the final edition of C. M.’s verses! Thank you above all for your introduction, which I think, in its conciseness and perception, couldn’t be better. My father in his habit as he lived. I think it’s perfect. Alas, the frontispiece seems to me a disaster. Instead of the ‘lean hawk face’ that you and I remember, we have a plaster-of-paris mock-up of a well-fed and self-satisfied owl. However, as my sister says, its really none of my business. Nor, I suppose, is the ‘Murray Park.’ C. M. used to talk to me a lot about his boyhood, and one of the reason he gave the wood to Alford was /so/ that the children of the village should have their own wild place to be wild in – as I used to be when I spent school holidays with my grandfather in his cottage at the edge of that fascinating, boggy, neglected wood. What is it now? A place of nature walks, and rustic bridges, and wooden benches for old women like me to rest their dowps upon. Well, I suppose that is how history, whether of individuals or nations goes: starts out in one direction, but pretty soon doubles back on its tracks. In any case, why should anyone have listened to my bleatings? I think the book itself is very pleasing. Inevitable misprint, even in an A. U. P. publication. But then I suppose nowadays only very lucky ones don’t have their published work peppered with misprints like showers of meteors. What I want to say again is: Thank You. Yours ever gratefully Marris Murray. Notes C.M.’s verses: Hamewith: The Complete Poems of Charles Murray, edited by Nan Shepherd, was published by Aberdeen University Press in September 1979. Alford: in Strathdon, Aberdeenshire, where Charles Murray (1864–1941) was born.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Jessie Kesson Address from: 503 N. Deeside Rd., Cults, Aberdeen AB1 9GS MS: National Library of Scotland, Acc. 13722, box 2, folder 1 29 November 1979 My dear Jessie, I’m sending your Christmas card before the postal rush. I don’t remember if I told you that the Aberdeen University Press was bringing out a

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306   nan shepherd’s correspondence complete edition of Charles Murray’s Poems – Hamewith – and I was concerned with the editing of it. You possibly have already some of the earlier editions, but as this is supposed to be the definitive one, you’d better have a copy, with my love. I suppose you are still immersed in the affairs of the old women. And I don’t suppose Christmas will mean much to a great many of them. I must tell you of a lovely death that has just taken place – I had a cousin, ninety years old, a little lively Jenny Wren of a woman, with her tail always cocked. The other week she was being collected by friends to go to a whist evening. She said, ‘Just wait till I blow out my lamp.’ She blew it out – and her own life at the same moment. What a lovely way to go. Doesn’t the spray of brambles make you wish you were plunging about among the bushes and plucking the freshness of the fruit? Best wishes to Johnny and to the family and much love to yourself. Nan Shepherd Notes a complete edition of Charles Murray’s Poems: Hamewith: The Complete Poems of Charles Murray, edited by Nan Shepherd, was published by Aberdeen University Press in September 1979. the old women: Kesson at this time worked as a housekeeper at an old people’s home. Doesn’t the spray of brambles: the letter to Kesson is written on a card with a reproduction of the picture Bramble (1880), from a watercolour by Ellen Stevens, showing a bramble spray of withering leaves and ripening fruit. Best wishes to Johnny: John Kesson (1905–94), Jessie’s husband, with whom she had two children, Avril (b. 1938) and Kenneth (b. 1946).

From: Nan Shepherd, to Jessie Kesson Address from: 503 N. Deeside Rd., Cults – MS: National Library of Scotland, Acc. 13722, box 2, folder 1 22 December 1979 My dear Jessie, Thank you very much for the book, which I haven’t yet read. I’m keeping it to help pass the time when I’m ‘geriatric’, perhaps not quite like your ancient dames, but at any rate in hospital – They’ve told me that my heart is ‘just a leaky old thing’, my pulse rate has gone down to 40 and I’m slower than two tortoises. So they are giving me a pacemaker into my

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heart. It’s not a big operation, a week or ten days in hospital, and they say it’s being done successfully on people a good deal older than me (I’ll be 87 in Feb) – old men in their nineties – The corollary of this however is that I think I’ll be leaving the old home in the spring. Both house and garden are more than I can cope with. But if this happens I’ll send you my new address. It’ll be odd for me to have a new address, for I’ve never lived anywhere but here. But if people will take on more than the allotted share of life, they shouldn’t take on more than the allotted share of space! Anyway, I’ll be here at the time of the important broadcast. And indeed I can feel what you went through in Elgin, returning to it not just as a private individual, but as someone who couldn’t hide her individuality. It must have been occasionally excruciating. Yes, I remember very well that you first told me of Charles Murray’s death. And I remember that train ride very well indeed. It was a lucky meeting. I’m glad you are having success with the BBC – It’ll keep you going till you get that mobile home, and come north to see me again. Love to you – Nan Notes not quite like your ancient dames: Kesson at this time worked as a housekeeper at an old people’s home. in hospital: the operation to fit the pacemaker was considered a success, and Shepherd returned home to Dunvegan early in 1980. the important broadcast: a television movie version of Kesson’s 1958 semi-autobiographical novel The White Bird Passes, directed by Michael Radford and starring Isobel Black and Phyllis Logan, was scheduled for broadcast on 20 April 1980. first told me: Kesson and Shepherd met on a train on 4 April 1941, with Kesson oblivious as to Shepherd’s identity and her close friendship with Charles Murray, whose death had just been announced on the radio. Following that meeting Shepherd wrote to Kesson, suggesting the latter enter a writing competition. Kesson did, and won, and from there began to build her career as a writer.

From: Cuthbert Graham [postcard of Buachaille Etive Mor, typewritten], to Nan Shepherd No address MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 27438, item 38 [No date, February 1980]

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308   nan shepherd’s correspondence For Dr. Nan At 87 your wise and friendly words Still lift the heart up. Yours is too prodigal, You must husband it, that we may bless, Your still continuing concern – – a voice speaking for home, Amid the muslin veils of northern light. MANY HAPPY RETURNS Cuthbert

From: Nan Shepherd, to Jessie Kesson Address from: Dunvegan,| 503 North Deeside Road,| Cults,| Aberdeen AB1 9ES MS: National Library of Scotland, Acc. 13722, box 2, folder 1 13 March 1980 Jessie my dear, As the date draws near for the showing, I suspect you feel twinges of apprehension – something that can’t be helped – Especially with something so personal as this is bound to be. I can only say that I think about you and understand the flutterings. Do you know yet the exact date? So many programmes have been postponed, or cancelled – I hope nothing of the sort interferes with yours – I was delighted to hear from Cuthbert Graham that the white Bird’s to take wing again, and that he has written an introduction – Good news. My own news is that I have at last acceded to my doctor’s hints and Sheila’s invitation, and agreed to leave this house and go and live in what was the kennelman’s cottage at Sheila’s back door. The steep brae up to the gate and the large garden are both too much for me – Did I tell you that at Christmas I went into hospital and had a pacemaker put in my heart? This move is to take place about the end of April, and my address, will then be Oakleigh Cottage, Auchattie, Banchory, Kincadieshire. I call the cottage my snail-shell residence, but it will contain me nicely (though not nearly all my possessions!) Love to you, my dear, and a stout heart for the great day – Nan Shepherd

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Notes the showing: a television movie version of Kesson’s 1958 semi-autobiographical novel The White Bird Passes, directed by Michael Radford and starring Isobel Black and Phyllis Logan, was broadcast on 20 April 1980. delighted to hear from Cuthbert Graham: a reissue of The White Bird Passes (1958), with an introduction by Cuthbert Graham, was published by Paul Harris in 1980. Sheila’s back door: Sheila Clouston (1918–92), who had intended to take Nan Shepherd into her home in Banchory before a heart attack prevented this plan. Nan would instead move to a nursing home, Annesley House, in Torphins.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Daphne Randerson Address from: 503, etc North Deeside MS: Private collection of Leith Penny, used by permission 2 April 1980 Daphne my sweet, Maggie brought along the photographs, which I have perused with much interest. What a difference a hat makes to a body’s appearance! I like very much the first one of the lass putting a last touch to her hat, and the one of her alone is quite lovely! I’m glad every thing went so well – and thank you for the bridescake – I don’t eat such morceaux but the recipient to whom I gave it said it was quite quite super. I’m engaged in trying to make my way through the accumulation of 87 years. That isn’t really true, because a great deal was disposed of when my father died and a lot more when my old Mary went. But there are masses as you will of course understand. I’ve been dealing with the books – it has taken me about 10 days, for I can do only a very little each day. But now I know just what I am taking to my snail shell, what I am leaving locked up here, and what I am distributing to whoever wants them. I’m giving you the volume that Clare Leighton wrote and illustrated /about her garden/ and gave to Auntie Muriel, with an inscription in her own hand. But I’ll keep it along with the wildlife volume till you are settled at Kincraig. The other thing I wondered about – had your mother all Muriel’s volumes of Scottish History? I imagine she had, but I’m reserving them till you say whether or not you want them – I can’t possibly take them with me. This will have to do as a birthday letter, for I promise myself always to write and by evening I’m too tired to do any writing at all. I’ve done nothing about booking in at Miss Fraser’s, for I feel at present that when I do reach Banchory I shan’t want to move again. In spite of the pacemaker, I have a very limited supply of energy and have to go very slow. I don’t feel that I shall be a fit resident in any Hotel or guest house again. But we’ll see –

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310   nan shepherd’s correspondence Tell me, how has Lindsay fared with her application for a post. No one has asked me for an estimate of her though she asked for permission to use my name. Today the garden is full of flowers – things thrusting up madly to feel the sun In my Banchory retreat, according to Sheila, the mice eat the bulbs and the rabbits eat the growth, but I’ll take up some things all the same. My love to you all Ever Auntie Nan Notes Maggie brought along the photographs: it has not been possible to identify this individual. when my father died: Nan Shepherd’s father, John, died on 19 May 1925. when my old Mary went: Mary Lawson, Shepherd’s housekeeper and companion, who died on 21 April 1976. what I am taking to my snail shell: the small home at the end of the garden at Sheila Clouston’s (1918–92) house in Banchory where Shepherd was planning on living. Clare Leighton: artist and engraver Clare Leighton (1898–1989). Shepherd is likely referring to Leighton’s 1935 book Four Hedges: A Gardener’s Chronicle. Auntie Muriel: Agnes Mure Mackenzie (1891–1955) who, like Nan Shepherd, had been friends with Daphne’s mother, Alice Hendry (née Thompson, 1893–1962), while at Aberdeen University and was regarded by Alice’s children as an aunt. ‘Muriel’ was Agnes Mure’s given name, and was the name by which she was known to her friends and loved ones. till you are settled at Kincraig: Daphne Randerson (née Hendry, later Penny, then Randerson, 1926–2003) was in the process of moving permanently to Kincraig at this time following the death of her husband Ian Randerson from cancer. all Muriel’s volumes of Scottish History: A History of Scotland, published in 6 volumes between 1934 and 1941. booking in at Miss Fraser’s: the owner of the Irish guesthouse that Shepherd frequented when she came to visit Daphne and her family at their holiday home in Kincraig. how has Lindsay fared: Lindsay Penny, the elder of Daphne’s two daughters.

From: Jessie Kesson, to Nan Shepherd No address MS: National Library of Scotland, MS. 27438, item 36–7 18 July 1980

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Dear Miss Shepherd – How glad I was to see your ‘hand of write’ on the envelope. Sheila wrote to me about your sudden severe collapse. I’ve always felt – and I’ve observed it closely in – nearly ten years working with elderly people – the indignity to self – is worse than the actual physical pain and discomfort – which can, in some measure, be alleviated, – it’s that t’other thing that hurts – I was so interested in your new abode – and this is why – for the past four years – I ‘set up’ two beautiful private houses – converted – into rooms for ‘6 elderly ladies’ – Abbeyfields – When I say – ‘set up’ – I mean – purely on a basic – level – I got the place ‘ready’ for my Women – their rooms – hindered on all sides by – the ‘mechanics’ out of Midsummer Night’s Dream!! Carpenters – Plasterers – Electricians – Then – stocking up on all my kitchen Items – Getting my women – all of home /whom/ – had sold up their own private houses – gradually getting acclimatised to this new way of life – their worst problem was – which of their ‘possessions’ to take to their new rooms – which to reject – Then – that done – down to my job as Cook/ Housekeeper – Two hot meals a day – Lunch 1 p.m – Two vegetables – compulsory – (apart from potatoes) – Supper/High Tea – 7. p.m. – after Supper – I gave them their milk – bread – marmalade as needed – for their Breakfast – which they saw to themselves – And every Friday Night – Their ‘Rations’ for the Week – Tea – Sugar – Butter – I loved cooking and baking for them – And seeing their table – set lovely and full – But, you know, I don’t know how Scotland runs its Abbeyfields But my ‘working’ conditions were almost Victorian!! – One day off – in a week – Thursday – when one of the ‘Committee Ladies!’ (voluntary) took my place – But – really – she had literally only to – ‘boil the tatties & vegetables – I did all the other things – baking – etc – on the evening before my – Day Off – No ‘set’ hours to my week – ‘On Call’ night and day – Our food was free – Our bed was free – But since I was allowed only a certain amount /of money/ for each Resident’s food – I found myself so often in the position – that ‘mothers’ with ‘families’ do find themselves in! – Confined to ‘scraping the pot’ myself – so that my residents would have enough – I never ate so poorly – not even in my poorest days – To crown it all – the pay for a cleaning Lady – was so small in comparison – to what she would earn in ‘Outside’ Private Houses – that the cleaning of the big House – fell – to me also – No extra wage for it – Plus – the Garden “ “ & that either – I used to simply – fall on to my bed – shoes and all!! – with sheer – fatigue – at the end of the day – The Books to keep – The Daily Menus – Shopping But – this is the strange thing – I had no illusions about my ‘residents’ – I could have literally – died in my tracks – setting out their suppers – and – they would have continued – Eating – And yet – I was fond of them. And they of me –

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312   nan shepherd’s correspondence And – enclosed to prove it – a letter that touched me – to B.B.C. – from my first ladies – in my first abbeyfield Don’t bother returning it – I have written in reply – In the end – I needed a – break! – needed time to write – so I got us a small flat – at an enormous rent – £21.50 – a week – just five minute’s walk from my Abbeyfield – I run into my ‘Ladies’ Daily – Boots & Woolworths their favourite ‘haunts’ – especially in Winter – never – The Library!! – They have had six different Cook/ Housekeepers since I left – But – as I said – it was such a – restricted – way of Life – and of earning a Livliehood [sic] – Fine for a middle-aged woman – with no family-ties – no other ‘claims’ – I am middle-aged – (although I seldom feel that) But – I also – love to see my family – grand-children – and all – and that was impossible – within the limits of one day – ‘off’ – Ah well – I still hope to get my Mobile House – I miss – the – soil – my flat – is like an Eagle’s Eyrie – right at the top – But I do have a Budgie – and some nice house Plants And – since one can’t have Everything (‘They’ say it’s ‘not good’ for you to ‘have Everything’ – ) How do ‘they’ know??? – I’m glad I’ve got that – !! Yes – the film of White Bird – beautifully done – But – The Documentary?? I disliked Me – Myself – Still – It’s Over and Done – And – I’ve – ‘surfaced’ at last from a year of dark apprehensions – Have now completed – Another Time, Another Place to be broadcast – November – Did I tell that London broadcast Dear Edith – for England. And that Germany – are translating it – and doing it in German – I was very pleased to learn of Cuthbert Graham’s honour. His Doctorate – he deserved that – Did you see that Flora Garry’s husband – has also had the Pacemaker – Operation – I’m glad you ‘look’ on Clochnaben ‘Your’ hills – And I know you do more than look – You ‘know’ the ‘feel’ of it, beneath your feet – The ‘sting’ of /its/ rain on your face, – you ‘breathe’ In the hill smells – I know this – because I, too, can ‘merge’ my – being – into beloved places – Not – quite – the same thing – as the Once Was – but a blessing despite – Lastly – never accuse yourself of being ‘egotistical’ and, if you ever feel you are – remember – you are – ‘entitled’ – All your students – all your ‘young’ – over the Years – to whom You – ‘gave out’ of yourself – would stand up and cheer – and ‘entitle’ you to that – an added ‘Honour’ – none the less real – because it’s intangible – My love to you – take – care – Jessie Kesson Notes Sheila wrote to me: Sheila Clouston (1918–92), who wrote to Kesson to tell her of Nan’s collapse on the floor of her home, where she lay for some time until found and rushed to hospital.

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your new abode: after her collapse, Nan Shepherd moved to a nursing home, Annesley House, in Torphins. Abbeyfields: The Abbeyfield Society, founded in 1956, was a charity operating care homes across the UK with a mission to ensure older people needing care remained socially connected and part of their community. the film of White Bird: a television movie version of Kesson’s 1958 semi-autobiographical novel The White Bird Passes, directed by Michael Radford and starring Isobel Black and Phyllis Logan, was broadcast on 20 April 1980. The Documentary: following the broadcast of The White Bird Passes, a short documentary film, featuring Jessie Kesson herself, was shown on television. Have now completed: Kesson co-wrote Another Time, Another Place, with Michael Radford, who also directed the film. The novel version would be published in 1983, the same year the film was broadcast. London broadcast Dear Edith: Kesson’s radio play about a solitary resident of an old people’s home, which was broadcast by the BBC. It later became a short story in the collection Where the Apple Ripens (1985). Cuthbert Graham’s honour: Cuthbert Graham (1911–87) was awarded an honorary doctorate by the University of Aberdeen. Flora Garry’s husband: Robert Campbell Garry (1900–93).

From: Nan Shepherd, to Jessie Kesson Address from: Annesley House, Torphins, Aberdeenshire AB3 4HL MS: National Library of Scotland, Acc. 13722, box 2, folder 1 28 August 1980 My dear Jessie, What a life, and what hard work! I don’t wonder that you called off. One has to have time to live – and to create needs sometimes a great deal of time and sometimes only a flash. But the flash may need a lot of what seems like empty time – Oh dear. I do get muddled over this business of time. It’s one of the most puzzling things one can think about. That we so often measure it by the motions of sun and other heavenly bodies is I think one of the obstacles – intensity of experience has nothing to do with solar measurements. – We have an Abbeyfield here in Torphins, a beautifully appointed (so I understand) ultra modern building (while we at Annesley have a Victorian building, only adapted to its present purpose) But I hear that the Abbeyfield is at present with out a housekeeper-warden. You wouldn’t like to come here, would you? I don’t know how many it holds. I am quite contented here, though never fully acquiescent in being in a ‘Home’ – it came on me so suddenly. It was a fortnight after I came here that I really felt it. Before that I just accepted dumbly. Somehow I never thought I’d be homeless! And they told me that a pacemaker enabled old

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314   nan shepherd’s correspondence people to stay on in their own homes instead of taking up places in homes And now they tell me that my pacemaker isn’t making – that a wire has slipped and I have to go back to hospital to have the whole business done over again – I don’t yet know when – But meanwhile the moon shines and the fields change colour and the woodsides have a new crop of niblings and all is well – My love to you – Nan. Notes We have an Abbeyfield here in Torphins: the Abbeyfield Society, founded in 1956, was a charity operating care homes across the UK with a mission to ensure older people needing care remained socially connected and part of their community. while we at Annesley: Annesley House care home, where Shepherd was resident during the final months of her life.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Erlend Clouston No address MS: Privately held, used by kind permission of Erlend Clouston [December 1980] Dear Erlend, What a gift! (and what a postage!) Thank you so much for my second Christmas gift – the first was a pair of bed socks! And forgive my not writing at more length. I am trying to get all my cards, arranging my new address card and writing people H. C. and M. C. and H. N. L. a little presently, sent it as soon as possible. This is for Hélène too. I’ve a letter of hers I didn’t answer. But I hear you are coming to Oakleigh at Christmas, which is marvellous. Love, Nan Have you had Tolman’s Travels Without a Donkey to review? I had thought of giving you it for Christmas (and sending it myself in the day-going) But if you have it for review I won’t buy it – Perhaps I might send you one? Notes This is for Hélène too: Hélène Marie Michele Jirnassian (b. 1951), Erlend’s wife. Oakleigh: the Clouston family home in Banchory, where it had been intended that Shepherd live, before her ill health prevented this plan. Oakleigh was about ten

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miles from Torphins, where Shepherd resided in a care home, Annesley House, until her death. Tolman’s Travels Without a Donkey to review: David Toulmin’s Travels Without a Donkey: Windscreen Memories of Scotland and Northumbria was published in September 1980. Erlend Clouston regularly wrote reviews for The Guardian.

From: Nan Shepherd, to Barbara Balmer Address from: Annesley House| Torphins| By Banchory| Grampian| AB3 4HL MS: None extant. Transcript provided by Ruth Paris, Barbara’s daughter 15 January 1981 Dear Barbara What a pleasurable shock the heading of your letter gave me. Did you tell me your place of sojourn was to be Stamford? If you did, it is one of the things I had completely forgotten (Forgetting is one of the things age accustoms you to.) And I had just said farewell to a correspondent in Stamford who has had to go into a home, being crippled with arthritis. And here staring me in the face was another correspondent to take her place. I had a cousin 6ft 4” in height who was a prisoner of the Germans in both wars – retired as a Major in the 30’s, was called up again and captured at St Valery and came home with a skin trouble in a leg that wouldn’t cure – first one leg was cut off, then the other, then the trouble crept up to his arms and face and eyes – he died some years ago and his widow left the house, which was in Priory Rd and had a delightful garden. I visited it once when I was staying in Peterborough – a bus journey on a Spring Sunday that ran through twisted roads and through villages with the most delightful names. I tried to memorise but they’re all gone now. It was an enchanting journey – and I suspect it is just about that bit of country that they are proposing to drive a great road through, to accommodate lorries. I hope your home is now in the order you want, with really spanking studios. For writing about my experiences – if I did that recognisably, I’d be for it! About growing old, there’s matter on which I have pondered a little. Or more than a little. Time – I always knew that time didn’t matter, but it took old age to show me that time is a mode of experiencing. The old story about the monk who listened to a blackbird for an hour and then found it had been a hundred years (and the Reformation had taken place) is just an example of what we all know – that we can gaze at a lovely scene for what seems a minute or two but is really an hour. Or conversely that if we are in a situation of extreme suspense, a minute can seem a year. Yes, but if one is to write about that, to convey its inwardness, how is it to be done?

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316   nan shepherd’s correspondence How get [sic] an experience into words so that the words make the experience true? It seems to me there is a kind of word for which I can’t find a name (I had one in my mind in bed last night but it’s gone). You know how the creative writer uses words that transform what he is saying – quite simple words they may be, but they carry his whole theme on to a level where the reader can share the experience. It’s as though you are standing experiencing and suddenly the work is there, bursting out of its own ripeness, and not to be expressed. The trained writer can then clear up the mess. But the life has exploded, sticky and rich and smelling oh so good. And that’s the word (or it may be a whole phrase) that makes the ordinary world magical – that reverberates/ illuminates and gives the reader a new experience. Splurging words – no, no, that’s too violent. We are back at time, you see. It’s a moment in time that hasn’t happened yet and will never quite happen because mind controls it so that it is about to happen but doesn’t – The moment is not at all like cinema, a following to, but a moment controlled by mind so that it happens and doesn’t happen for all time – like Cézanne’s apples – They bide still but it was a sair fecht atween them baith. The white claith wid eye creep doun like a jist [unclear] aneath the apples’ wecht — As a painter you know this. My problem would be to find words that conveyed it. Mind controlling time – that seems to be a large part of it. (And if mind controls time so that it never gets out of control, the training of the lesser writer needn’t have ‘mess’ to clean up.) The apples move and don’t move because the mind controls the movement. Photographs have not this power. And yet — I have been looking at a photograph of myself at 18 mths, a family group in which I am held on my mother’s knee. I say held because my 18-month old person is all movement, legs and arms flailing as though I were demanding to get at life – I swear those limbs move as you look at them. But I must stop – nothing here about people – other people as old age reveals them however it may be believe me that you are deeply good to me and I send you my love – Nan. Notes Stamford: having lived in Cults for many years, Balmer, along with her husband, the artist and book designer George Mackie (1920–2020), moved to Stamford in Lincolnshire. I had a cousin: it has not been possible to identify the cousin that Shepherd mentions here. like Cézanne’s apples: in multiple paintings of apples in the 1880s and 1890s, Paul Cézanne (1839–1906) experimented with perspective and realism in ways that became extremely influential on subsequent painters of still life.

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From: Nan Shepherd, to Barbara Balmer Address from: Annesley House| Torphins| Banchory| Grampian| AB3 4HL MS: None extant. Transcript provided by Ruth Paris, Barbara’s daughter Candlemas Day [2 February] 1981 My dear Barbara, When your delightful present arrived, my instinct was to write immediately and thank you. (I do know about Sylvia Ashton-Warner’s work among the Maori children, though I hadn’t read any of her books). But something else had to be done that morning, and one thing per day seems to be my limit. Anyway here I am now. And the next confession is that I have mislaid (we never lose things here, but we mislay them constantly, and they turn up in some odd place days later.) Your letter, which was only partly answered – I had not really taken in all that George said or suggested I might do. I just knew I couldn’t do it, but I set aside the letter to be read again later, and then forgot where I had put it. Which is another of the things we have to reckon with in getting old – forgetting, putting things in a safe place and forgetting a little later where they are – This is different from the confession that I [unclear]. The moment of recovered sense is rather interesting – I don’t think I told you There was the conviction that for a whole week I went to bed in a different bed at a different part of the ward from the one I woke up in. That ended when I told this to an older woman who said, old people do get confused about [unclear], And that could be so, for I know it was [unclear]. Queerer was the belief that at night the whole ward moved out to a wood in Drumoak and came back and I with it in the morning, and that I walked in to the [unclear] said, I’ve brought it back all safe. For they couldn’t leave the wood out because of vandals, and I had said, I’ll keep the vandals away (the conceit of me!) I can see the wood – I played in it as a child. But oddest of all in the wash-house, when I came to myself they said, wouldn’t I like a blanket bath, and when I said yes, they put me on a trolley and wheeled me into the balcony although [unclear] . . . there was a wash-house, [unclear] where nurses were washing clothes and [unclear] I was lifted off the trolley on to a board, not very small, on trestles, and they gave me my bath – then put back on the trolley and wheeled back to my bed. Next day again I was asked if I would like a blanket bath and this time it took place and I had always supposed blanket baths took place cosy in bed. I nearly said, I’m not going to the wash-room today but it didn’t seem worth the effort of speaking. But then they got me up into a chair and I looked right into the balcony, and to my amazement there was

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318   nan shepherd’s correspondence a bed right up against the wall where the door into the washroom was, and a lady was wheeled in a chair and helped on to the bed. Strange, I thought, how can they get into the wash-room? And I sat and stared for a long time at that bed. And when I was able to walk a little, I walked into the balcony, and there was no door beyond the bed – for the panelling, the I sat and pondered this for a long time – it took me days to work it out that there was no washroom there – that there couldn’t be, because I knew how the outside of the hospital looked – no utility lean-to sort of building could hold the symmetry of the bay that the balconies [unclear] I came to the conclusion, after long and painful cognition, that there was no washroom, no nurses washing cloths and [unclear] them to [unclear] no rough wooden trestle which I had been laid. Yet I can see it all so vividly still, I could, up to that point, have sworn that I remembered it, the moment of truth came at least a day later when I suddenly saw that I was not there at all and never had been. Then I knew that as far as other [unclear] went I was [unclear] And I have been wondering just now, when they say some of the American hostages may suffer mental damage, if any of them have the same mental confusion as I had then, and swear that they remember things that didn’t really happen, so that the Iranians may carry a load of blame that isn’t really theirs. ‘But I remember’ – and it didn’t really happen. These confusions caught me out in a number of ways as the months went on. Just the other week I lay half awake with a number of things jostling [unclear] and eyes that wouldn’t open. Then suddenly they were wide open and I was fully awake. The room was dark and silent, only right across it in large capital letters forming part of an arc is the one word MAGGIEROCKATER. I ken there was a place in Scotland called that, I don’t know where it was, nor had I been there nor knew anyone who lived there nor had any connection at all with it. But there it was large and plain – nothing else in the room at all – I thought it was odd enough to tell my companions next day, and found that one knew where it was and another had actually passed through it. They suggested it might be a prophetic vision, but no, nothing happened, nothing has happened – why, [unclear], out of all the things that must at some time have congregated in my mind, did that one isolate itself in that strange way? But looking at the elegant precision of Rachel’s handiwork, I realise it’s time I ended this scrawl – I can write letters, but it takes so long! Rachel’s work is lovely – love Nan Notes Sylvia Ashton-Warner’s work: Sylvia Constance Ashton-Warner (1908–84) was a New Zealand writer and teacher who spent many years working in various Māori schools around the country. She was a novelist and a diarist, and also wrote about the educational theories used in her classrooms. The present referred to was a copy of Ashton-Warner’s novel Spinster in a Virago edition featuring a self-portrait of Barbara Balmer (1929–2017) on the cover.

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all that George said: George Mackie (1920–2020), Barbara Balmer’s husband. some of the American hostages: shortly before this letter was written, the longrunning Iran hostage crisis ended. Dozens of American citizens and diplomats were held captive by Iranian students for more than a year, initially in the US Embassy in Iran, and later in prisons around the country. Negotiations eventually secured the release of all remaining hostages on 20 January 1981. MAGGIEROCKATER: the originals of Shepherd’s letters to Balmer are no longer accessible, so it is not possible to say whether this spelling is in the original letter or a mistranscription. However, it is most likely a reference to the hamlet of Maggieknockater, in Banffshire to the east of Inverness. the elegant precision of Rachel’s handiwork: Rachel Mackie, daughter of Barbara Balmer and George Mackie, was a jeweller, and at the beginning of her career at the time of this letter.

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Biographical Sketches

Marion Angus (1865–1946) Angus was born into a family of social reformers and clerics. Initially living in Sunderland with her parents and siblings, Angus moved to Arbroath in 1876 when her father accepted an appointment to the Erskine United Free Church. After his death in 1902, Angus and her family relocated to Cults, just outside Aberdeen. There Angus ran a school with her sister Ethel, through which income the sisters supported themselves and their mother. The coming of the First World War meant an end to the school, and both sisters served, Marion in the canteen at Stobbs camp. Following a brief itinerant period after the war ended, Angus returned to the north-east where she purchased her own house, Zoar, in Aberdeen in 1921. It was while living here that Angus began publishing the poetry that would establish her as a central voice in Scottish verse. The Lilt, her first volume, appeared in 1922, and would be followed by five more during the 1920s and 1930s. Her writing was championed by Hugh MacDiarmid, who included her poetry in anthologies and articles, and she was also published by Porpoise Press in Edinburgh, then seeking to establish a distinctively Scottish literature. Ethel’s health dramatically collapsed early in 1930 and she was admitted to Glasgow Royal Asylum at Gartnavel. Having decided on a hospital in the Central Belt rather than one near Aberdeen, Marion Angus felt she had to give up her house in Aberdeen, and shortly after sold Zoar. The following years were itinerant, with Angus moving from house to house as she stayed with different friends in Edinburgh, Lasswade and other locations within reach of Gartnavel. Despite the constant moving and the demands of tending to her sister (until her death in 1936), Angus managed to maintain her connection to Aberdeen, returning to Deeside each summer. In 1945, having finally become too frail to care for herself, Angus moved back to Arbroath, where she died the following year.

Barbara Balmer (1929–2017) Balmer was born in Birmingham. She initially studied art in the West Midlands before attending Edinburgh College of Art. She moved to Aberdeen and held a visiting lectureship at Gray’s School of Art between 1970 and 1980. In that time she and her family – husband George Mackie and    320

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daughters Ruth and Rachel – lived just down the road from Shepherd in Cults, and Balmer became friends with Shepherd in her later years. Shepherd’s sunporch, overlooking the Dee, was a favourite place for the women to sit and talk, and became the subject of one of Balmer’s paintings, now owned by Deveron Arts. Balmer and her family moved from Cults to Stamford in Lincolnshire in 1980, shortly before Shepherd died. It was in Stamford that Balmer died in 2017.

Helen B. Cruickshank (1886–1975) Cruickshank grew up in Forfarshire, while holidays to Glenesk laid the foundations for a lifelong love of hill walking. Unable to attend university because of the cost, Cruickshank instead entered the civil service, where she was to work for forty years. While living in London, she was an active suffragette; a move to Edinburgh in 1912 proved the beginning of more than a decade of living as an independent woman, free of the constraints of marriage or motherhood, and it was during this period Cruickshank began to write poetry. Her father’s death in 1924 brought an abrupt end to Cruickshank’s freedom: as the only daughter, the care of her widowed mother fell solely to Cruickshank. The two women would live together in a bungalow in Corstorphine named Dinnieduff until the death of Cruickshank’s mother. Cruickshank’s first volume of poetry was published in 1934, though only two further volumes, in addition to a Collected Poems, appeared in her lifetime. However, her work on behalf of Scottish literature, like Shepherd’s, ran beyond what she wrote herself: Cruickshank was a founder member of both Scottish PEN and the Saltire Society, and embraced the cultural possibilities offered by the Edinburgh Festival from the first. Indeed, it became a tradition of Cruickshank and Shepherd’s to meet in Edinburgh for the Festival, where they typically gorged on an eclectic range of culture and art. While Dinnieduff represented, in some ways, Cruickshank’s entrapment by domestic duties, it also came to serve as a social hub for Scottish letters – and became another avenue through which Cruickshank could work to shape Scotland’s cultural landscape. In this house Cruickshank hosted a range of the most famous writers working in Scotland at this time, and she also produced an edition of Marion Angus’s poetry. She died in Edinburgh in 1975, having stayed at Dinnieduff until the last six months of her life.

Cuthbert Graham (1911–87) A journalist, historian and poet, Graham was rooted in his native northeast. As well as producing numerous volumes on the history and landscape of Aberdeenshire, Aberdeen and the Grampians, Graham was also a fierce champion of other writers in the area. He regularly used his column

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322   nan shepherd’s correspondence ‘North-east Muse’ in the area’s newspaper, the Press and Journal, to spotlight writers of talent that Gray felt deserved greater recognition, much as Nan Shepherd used the reviews of the Aberdeen University Review. Graham was awarded an honorary doctorate of laws by Aberdeen University in recognition of his work.

Sir Alexander Gray (1882–1968) Born in Dundee, Gray studied as an undergraduate at Edinburgh University, where he received a first class degree in mathematics. A second degree, in economic science, was awarded three years later – again with first class honours. After concluding his studies, Gray took the civil service examination. Having placed second overall, he worked in government for sixteen years. In 1921 he moved to Aberdeen to take up the Jaffrey chair of political economy, making use in this role of his many years of experience in a number of roles as an administrator. Gray was a gifted prose writer, producing a number of essays and books on economics, but it was his talents as a linguist that set him apart both as an economist and as a poet. Capable of speaking and writing Dutch, German and Danish, Gray became particularly interested in verse translation. Over a period of thirty years he translated ballads from all three languages into Scots, the Danish coming last in 1954 under the title of Four and Forty. In between, Gray composed lyric poetry of some quality in Scots. He died in 1968, the year after his wife Alice (née Gunn, d. 1967), and was survived by his four children.

Christopher Grieve (1892–1978), pseudonym Hugh MacDiarmid Born in Langholm on the border with England, Grieve came from a working-class background and learned early to be interested in the labour movement. A voracious reader from a young age, Grieve excelled academically though his achievements tended to be undercut by poor judgement. Indeed, a dismissal while at school for an ill-judged prank was an early sign of a pattern that would see Grieve dismissed from several early posts while he attempted to establish himself as a journalist. Although his childhood was firmly rooted in Langholm, Grieve lived itinerantly for long periods. At eighteen he moved to south Wales; two years later in 1912 he was back in Langholm; he then moved to Fife in 1913, before moving quickly on to Forfar. The restlessness eased for a time after Grieve’s marriage to Peggy Skinner in 1918, with the couple resident for eight years in Montrose, where they raised their young family: Christine, born in 1924, and Walter, born in 1928. This period saw Grieve begin to flourish as a writer. While employed as a journalist at the Montrose

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Review, Grieve set about establishing himself as an important player in Scots letters initially through a series of periodicals, the most influential of which was the Scottish Chapbook, which sought to locate Scottish literature more in relation to Europe and less in relation to England. Around this time Grieve’s most famous pseudonym came into usage, and Hugh MacDiarmid quickly became Grieve’s best-known alter ego. Poems, articles and essays poured from his pen at this time, and friendships with other Scottish writers such as Neil M. Gunn and Edwin Muir also flourished. Money, though, was tight – as it often would be for much of Grieve’s life. He and his family moved to London following an invitation from Compton Mackenzie to write for his new critical magazine, Vox. The post was not a success, though, and more wandering followed. Unwilling to follow her husband with two young children to care for, Peggy Grieve remained in London while Christopher Grieve took up a short-lived post in Liverpool. As had happened before, Grieve quickly lost his job. Returning to London, he met Valda Trevlyn, who would become his second wife, though financially his prospects continued to be difficult. A bitter divorce from Peggy in 1932 compounded Grieve’s woes, and in addition he was prevented from seeing Christine and Walter. A son with Valda, James Michael Trevlyn, was born in 1932, which proved some comfort. Grieve’s financial position did not improve, however, with a move to Longniddry near Edinburgh, and Grieve and his second family were soon on the move again – this time to Shetland with the assistance of Helen B. Cruickshank, who had arranged a housekeeping job for Valda. Having arrived on Whalsay, though, the job fell through, and the family were forced to rent a house there for themselves at additional expense. The family were extremely poor, but while the circumstances were hard they did at least compel Grieve to stop drinking – a habit which had become an addiction that was beginning to seriously undermine his health. Shetland proved a refuge for the family for a decade. The landscape of Shetland provided rich matter for Grieve’s poetry, which garnered admiration from readers including Nan Shepherd, who had begun championing it to her students at Aberdeen Training Centre and in her talks. It was while Grieve was resident in Shetland that Shepherd corresponded with him. The Second World War saw Grieve called to non-military service, and he left Shetland for Glasgow with his family. The work was hard, but when peace was declared Grieve found himself abruptly unemployed. Picking up his work on periodicals and some journalism, Grieve kept himself occupied; and with the offer of rent-free accommodation at Candymill just outside Biggar in Lanarkshire, Grieve found himself back in the Borders. This time he was to stay, and he resided at Candymill for the rest of his life. Travelling did not entirely cease, though, and during the 1950s Grieve visited several Communist countries in Europe, including Hungary. Here he proved to be an inspirational figure for younger writers, a role Grieve increasingly played both at home and abroad. His seventieth and eightieth

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324   nan shepherd’s correspondence birthdays both prompted extensive commemorations, and multiple honours came his way in his later years. He died in Edinburgh in 1978, an iconoclast to the end. His body was brought home to Langholm for burial.

Neil M. Gunn (1891–1973) Neil Gunn was born in Caithness in the north-east of Scotland, a place that would feature often in the fiction that would bring him acclaim in his later life. His early professional life, though, was spent in London, after he passed the civil service exam aged fifteen. He would work in the civil service for much of his life, combining work as a Customs and Excise officer with his writing. After two years in London he was posted to Inverness, where his work took him across large swathes of northern Scotland. With several of his elder brothers signing up to serve at the outbreak of the First World War (Gunn was the seventh of nine children), Gunn’s mother was keen for him to stay in Scotland. For a time he worked at Kinlochleven assisting the Admiralty, and it was here that Gunn began to write. His first piece was published in 1918. In 1921 he married Daisy Frew, and after two itinerant years Gunn and his wife returned to Inverness, where they lived for the next several years in the house they had built there. Early encouragement from Hugh MacDiarmid, who published some of Gunn’s first pieces in his periodicals, proved important to Gunn as he found his voice. Already working in a range of genres – as he would do for much of his career – Gunn also found a champion in J. B. Salmond, the editor of the Scots Magazine, who published Gunn’s short stories and plays, and serialised some of his fiction. Gunn’s first novel, The Grey Coast, appeared in 1926, though it took him some time to find a publisher for his second, Morning Tide, which was not published until 1931. After these early hiccups, Gunn found a place first at the Edinburghbased Porpoise Press and subsequently at Faber and Faber, with whom Porpoise had a trading agreement. Gunn published all his subsequent novels with Faber. Nan Shepherd was an early appreciator of Gunn’s fiction – which was by no means to everyone’s taste among the writers in the Scottish Renaissance – and her letter to him initiated an epistolary friendship that meant a great deal to both parties. The two were able occasionally to meet in person, but their friendship exists mostly in their letters. Even when the frequency of their correspondence waned as they both entered later life, Gunn could rely on a letter from Shepherd each time one of his novels was published – which was regularly. By the late 1930s Gunn was well enough established as a writer to give up his day job, and from this point worked on his writing full time. He and Daisy left Inverness and moved further north to just outside Dingwall where, for the next two decades, Gunn produced a major work at a rate of around one every year, alongside a substantial journalistic output and

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some public service work on committees – work which helped bring about wide-ranging changes in health and land policy. From the mid 1950s onwards Gunn’s health began to decline, and he was afflicted by debilitating facial neuralgia that required hospital treatment. Daisy died in 1963. Gunn survived his wife by a decade, dying of cancer in 1973.

Jessie Kesson (1916–94) Kesson was born to a loving but complicated mother in Inverness in 1916. Having been cast off by her mother’s relations, and with no known father, Jessie lived alongside her mother, mostly in poverty. At times Kesson’s mother engaged in prostitution. For all the hardships of their lives, Kesson’s mother provided love and enrichment for her daughter, passing on an enormous store of memorised poetry while the pair roamed the countryside together. This loving relationship was torn asunder when Kesson was ten and she was taken into care. Although she broadly adapted well to her changed circumstances, Kesson nonetheless found her institutionalisation hard to bear. Unable to attend university, and destined instead for farm service, Kesson had a breakdown and spent a year in a mental hospital. After her recovery Kesson was ‘boarded out’ on a farm above Inverness. Here she met the man who would become her husband, John Kesson (1905– 94). The pair married in 1937, and their first child, Avril, was born the following year. A son, Kenneth, would follow in 1946. The couple worked for a number of years as cottars, living in farm accommodation rent free, but with low pay and no job security. In 1941, though, Kesson encountered Nan Shepherd by chance on a train, with profound consequences for the younger woman’s subsequent life. The two women exchanged few personal details while they talked of language and literature between Inverurie and Aviemore, where Shepherd departed the train to start a walk in the Cairngorms, but Shepherd used what she had, ‘Miss Jessie – now Mrs/ At a Dairy Farm/ Near Old Meldrum’, to send to her young friend the details of a short story competition she felt Kesson should enter. Kesson entered, and she won. This was the catalyst that set Kesson on her way as a writer: for the next few years she contributed regularly to the Scots Magazine and the North-East Review. By 1946 Kesson was writing radio plays for BBC Scotland, and in 1951 she moved her family to London so she could work for the BBC there. Kesson was never able to afford to write full time, and alongside her literary activities she held down a series of physically demanding jobs, often working at unsociable hours to fit around her responsibilities as a mother. The hard slog yielded increasing success, and the acclaim garnered by Kesson as a writer of radio plays was supplemented in 1958 by the success of her first, semi-autobiographical, novel, The White Bird Passes. Glitter of Mica followed in 1963, and a novella, Where the Apple Ripens, was

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326   nan shepherd’s correspondence published in 1978 and reprinted as the title story of a collection in 1985. A TV adaptation of The White Bird Passes, directed by Michael Radford and starring Isobel Black and Phyllis Logan, was broadcast on 20 April 1980, bringing Kesson national fame. Through all this she and Shepherd maintained an epistolary friendship. Kesson valued Shepherd’s judgement of her writing above all others, while Shepherd, for her part, kept a close eye on Kesson’s career and revelled in its successes. The 1980s saw Kesson recognised as one of Scotland’s foremost writers, with honorary degrees following the production of a movie which became the novel Another Time, Another Place. Kesson’s final years were spent nursing her husband, whose health had been in decline since the 1960s. John Kesson died in August 1994, with Jessie following him just six weeks later.

Agnes Mure Mackenzie (1891–1955) Agnes Muriel Mackenzie was born in Stornoway, Isle of Lewis. A childhood bout of scarlet fever led to significant damage to her hearing, a circumstance that influenced the direction of Mackenzie’s life especially after she left Scotland for England. Mackenzie attended Aberdeen University where she gained a first class honours degree, followed by a master’s and eventually a doctorate (1924). As an undergraduate she became good friends with Nan Shepherd, who helped her find work at the university first as a teaching assistant, and later as a researcher on James Hastings’s Encyclopaedia of Religion and Ethics. She moved to London in 1920, where she took up a lectureship at Birkbeck College, teaching Shakespeare and throwing herself into academic life: she was, among other things, an enthusiastic participant in theatrical productions. However, her deafness meant she experienced difficulties in understanding and being understood by those who did not know her well; she was devastated when a student complaint about the inaudibility of her lectures led to her dismissal from Birkbeck. Mackenzie at this point turned to her pen to make a living, and enjoyed some success as a novelist with historical tales set in Scotland. She was also sought after as a literary critic and worked for various periodicals, including the New Statesman, and reviewed manuscripts for a number of London publishers. In the late 1920s and early 1930s she began to develop a significant reputation as a writer first of literary criticism, and then of history. She eventually produced six volumes on the history of Scotland. Such was their influence and Mackenzie’s standing that she was invited to become an adviser on education in Scotland, and was appointed CBE in 1945 for services to Scottish history. Mackenzie never married. She lived for many years with her sister, Jean ‘Jock’ Mackenzie, and enjoyed a wide and rich friendship: those friends called her ‘Muriel’, the name that Mackenzie preferred. In 1951

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she and her sister moved from London to Edinburgh, where Mackenzie died suddenly in 1955. Writing in the Aberdeen University Review after Mackenzie’s death, Shepherd described how, despite the numerous accolades and acclaim that eventually came to Mackenzie, ‘I come to think that her real achievement was, to be a human being; unwarped; balanced; wholesome and sweet as an apple, with a tang that left a clean taste in the mouth. No one was more free from the meanness of envy, no one more unaffectedly enjoyed the success of others; and without any humbug she enjoyed her own success too, when it came. Humbug, in fact, had no chance near her: which was part of the reason why she was so good a comrade. Her astringency was bracing, her wit releasing, and the catholic glow of her appreciations warmed and intensified life’ (‘Agnes Mure Mackenzie: A Portrait’, by Nan Shepherd, Aberdeen University Review, volume 36, number 2:113, spring 1955, pp. 132–40).

William Soutar (1898–1943) Born in Perth, Soutar started writing poetry at a young age. He served in the Navy during the First World War, and after being demobilised he began studying medicine at Edinburgh University before switching to English literature. In his new subject he was taught by Shepherd’s former professor, Herbert Grierson, though neither Grierson nor Soutar much enjoyed the experience. Soutar eventually left Edinburgh with an undistinguished third class degree, though this did not put him off pursuing a life of letters: his first volume of poetry, Gleanings by an Undergraduate, was published in 1923, the same year he finished university. Confident in his abilities as a poet, Soutar began a correspondence with Christopher Grieve (Hugh MacDiarmid), and although the two disagreed about some elements of MacDiarmid’s project to establish a new Scottish literary and linguistic tradition, their exchanges proved to be intellectually stimulating to them both. Indeed, Soutar began composing verse for children in Scots, poems on which much of his subsequent fame would rest. Symptoms of ankylosing spondylitis began to appear during Soutar’s university days, and by the mid 1920s they had grown in severity so that attempts at careers in journalism and teaching came to nothing. Lovingly cared for by his parents in his infirmity, Soutar enjoyed at his bedside the company of many of Scotland’s leading artistic figures, including Helen B. Cruickshank, Christopher Grieve and many others. After his death in 1943 several editions of his poems were published: one edited by Hugh MacDiarmid in 1948, and two edited by W. R. Aitken in 1961 and 1988. Soutar’s reputation as a writer of significance was further burnished by the quality of his diaries, which were also published posthumously.

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Index

A. P. Watt & Son, 165, 166 Abbeyfield Society, 313, 314 Aberdeen blind house in Chanonry, 39, 40 Rubislaw, 40, 41 Aberdeen Evening Press, 159, 160 Aberdeen Free Press, 47, 66 Aberdeen University formal dinners, 35, 36, 40, 41, 69, 72 Graham’s honorary doctorate, 312, 313, 322 new buildings, 224 opening of the King’s College Library extension, 210, 211, 217, 218–19 Shepherd’s honorary doctorate, 261–2, 263 Aberdeen University Press, 291, 292 Hamewith: The Complete Poems of Charles Murray, 305–6 Aberdeen University Review Bulloch’s contributions, 47, 64, 66 centenary edition, 227, 229, 230, 236, 241, 248 fiftieth anniversary, 251 finances, 240, 243, 244 Gray’s sketch of George Adam Smith, 226, 227–8, 234, 235 MacDiarmid’s Hungarian experiences in, 238, 242 Mackenzie’s contributions to, 54, 56, 197 NS’s editorship of, 3, 205, 210, 225, 226, 245, 251, 260, 261, 262–3 NS’s inclusion of Gray’s translations of Danish ballads, 210, 211–13, 214, 215–16, 220–3, 246–9

NS’s posthumous portrait of Mackenzie, 125, 206, 327 NS’s review of Irvine’s So Much Love, 205, 206, 207–9 NS’s review of Kesson’s The White Bird Passes, 217–18 obituary for W. G. L. Gilbert, 239, 240, 241, 243 ‘The Poetry of Hugh MacDiarmid,’ 144, 145, 146 review of Irvine’s Alison Cairns and Her family, 265, 267, 269 review of Irvine’s Fields with Geese, 239, 240, 241, 242, 243 review of Mennie’s Poems and Songs of Sir Robert Ayton, 245, 246 review of Mennie’s Poems from Panmure House, 238, 239 review of Music of Scotland, 214–15 review of The Process of Literature, 93, 94 Aberdein, Euphemia, 116, 118 Aberdein, Jessie, 116, 118 Adam Smith, Jane, 116, 117 Akros, 281, 282 Albert, Edward, 80, 81 Alexander, Kenneth, 230, 231 Alexander, William, Johnny Gibb of Gushetneuk, 123, 126, 202, 203, 233, 234 Allan, Eliza MacNaughton Luke (Dot Allan), 79, 128, 130, 279, 280 Allen & Unwin, 92, 94 Alma Mater, 67, 72 Alma Mater Anthology, 7, 8

   328

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Alma Mater Special Hospitals Number, 21, 24 Andrea del Sarto, 104 Andrew of Wyntoun, Chronicle, 188, 190 Angus, Amy, 142 Angus, Annie Katherine, 142 Angus, Ethel, 90, 91, 108, 109, 135, 139, 140, 141, 270, 275–6, 280, 282, 320 Angus, Henry, 273 Angus, Henry II, 269–70, 273, 277 Angus, Henry III, 271, 275 Angus, Marion academic studies on, 2 biographical sketch, 320 correspondence, 279, 280 Ethel’s ill health, 90, 91, 108, 109, 139, 140, 141 friendship with Shepherd, 90, 103 Gunn and, 77, 114 house in Zoar, 271, 276, 277, 320 ill health, 134, 141, 147, 148 lectures by, 134, 135 letters to NS, 74, 89–91, 108–9, 134–5, 139–40, 141–3, 147–9 The Lilt and Other Verses, 275, 276, 320 Lost Country, 141–2 ‘Marion Angus as a Poet of Deeside,’ 270, 272, 274, 275, 279, 283, 284, 285 NS’s research on the life of, 269–77 photo of, 274, 276, 283, 284 poor handwriting, 4, 279, 280, 282 praise for Shepherd’s poetry, 90, 108 praise for The Weatherhouse, 89 reading of the poems of, 252 scholarship on, 281 on Scottish poetry, 147–8 Selected Poems of Marion Angus, 277, 279, 280 The Tinkers Road, and Other Verses, 284, 285 Angus, Mary Jessie (née Watson), 271, 272, 273, 277 Angus, Robert, 270

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index  329 Angus, William Stephenson, 252–3, 269–72, 273–7, 279, 280, 284, 285, 286 Annesley Vachell, Horace, 38, 39 Arbuthnott Church, 232–3 Arts Council, 221 Ashton, Winifred (Clemence Dane), 61, 62, 64, 66 Ashton-Warner, Sylvia Constance, Spinster, 317, 318 Association for Scottish Literary Studies (ASLS), 290, 291 Atlantic Monthly, 80 Auden, W. H., 114, 115, 303, 304 B. T. Batsford Ltd, 164 Baillie, Lady Grisel, ‘werena’ my heart licht I wad dee,’ 148, 149 Balmer, Barbara, 216, 315–19, 320–1 Banchory, 148, 229, 231, 232, 308, 309, 310, 314 Barbour, John, 116, 117 Barless, Kate, 90, 91 Barrett, William, 52, 53 Barrie, J. M., 31 Bawden, Edward, 216, 223, 224 Beauclerk, Helen, 55 Beaumont, Francis, 31, 32 Bisset’s bookshop, 269, 270 Blairs, 129, 130 Blake, George, 2, 79, 114–15, 141, 142, 164, 204 Bloomsbury Group, 14, 44, 56 Bold, Alan, 302 Bone, James, the Perambulator in Edinburgh, 54, 55 Bookman, 48, 49 Borden, Mary, 62, 63 Boswell, James, 204 bothy ballads, 220 Boughton, Rutland, The Immortal Hour, 50 Braemar, 90, 104, 110 Bredsdorff, Elias, 235 British Association for the Advancement of Science, 259, 260 Brooke, Rupert, 24, 26

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330   nan shepherd’s correspondence Broster, Dorothy Kathleen, 35, 36, 62, 63, 92, 94, 117, 118, 119, 121 Brown, George Douglas, 81 Browning, Robert, 104 Bruce, George, 266, 269, 286, 294–5, 296, 297 Buchan, Anna Masterton, 58 Buchan, John, 58, 271, 272 Buchan dialect, 201–3 Buchanan Clarke, Margaret, 116, 117, 248 Buchanan Thomson, Kathleen, 116, 117 Buchanan-Smith, Alick, 248 Buckie, Moray, 176 Bulletin, 144, 145 Bulloch, John Malcom, 46, 47, 64, 66, 121, 124 Burns, Robert, 145, 225, 252 ‘To William Simpson of Ochiltree,’ 189, 190 Burns Club of London, 123, 126 Cairngorms, 14, 87, 111 Cairns, Alice, 235 Cairns, Alison, 232, 233, 265, 266, 267 Cairns, David, 232, 233, 234, 235, 265, 266 Calder, William Moir, 223–4 Campbell, Duncan, 283, 284, 285 Carnegie Trust for the Universities of Scotland, 119, 121, 123 Carswell, Catherine, 79 Cassell’s Magazine, 73 Cassie, Robert Lawson, 189, 190 Celtic revival Rachel Annand Taylor, 19–20, 21, 125 Songs of the Hebrides, 7 Cézanne, Paul, 316 Chalmers, Aimée Y., 2 Cheshire, 97 Chevalley, Abel, Le Roman Anglais de Notre Temps, 21, 22 Child, Harold, 62, 63 Chomarie, 244 Churchill, Winston, Marlborough: His Life and Times, 136, 137

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Cicero, 248, 249 Clachnaben, 15, 16, 25, 26 Clarke, Ella, 245, 246 Clarke, Marion, 199, 245, 246, 254–5, 257, 258, 281, 292 Clarke, Mary, 281 Clouston, Deirdre, 191–2, 283, 284 Clouston, Erlend, 314 Clouston, Grant Roger, 174 Clouston, John, 252, 253 Clouston, Magnus, 252, 253 Clouston, Sheila daughter, 191–2 grandson’s christening, 282, 283, 284, 285 letter to Kesson, 312 move to Banchory, 231, 232, 233 NS visit to, 186, 187 NS’s proposed move to live with, 308, 309, 310 trip to Kenmore with NS, 290, 291 visit to NS, 173, 174, 229, 252, 253 Conn, Stewart, 286 Conrad, Joseph, The Mirror of the Sea, 114, 115 Constable & Co Gunn’s The Lost Glen and, 80, 81 Otto Kyllmann at, 46, 71, 106 publication of Quarry Wood, 44–6, 47, 58, 61, 62, 63, 64, 65, 66, 71, 72, 74 taste in binding cloth, 122, 124 Corot, Jean-Baptiste-Camille, 10, 11 Country Life, 165 Coutts, Lewis, 57, 59, 67, 69, 71 Cowie, Mabel (Lesley Storm) Lady, What of Life, 93, 94 Robin and Robina, 121, 124 Craigowrie, 15, 52, 53, 54, 56 Crawford, Thomas, Burns: A Study of the Poems and Songs, 229, 230 Crippen, Hawley Harvey, 122, 125 Crow, Sydney, 10 Cruickshank, Helen B. biographical sketch, 321 Collected Poems, 290, 321

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friendship with the Grieves, 225, 226, 231, 232 Honorary Association for Scottish Literary Studies, 290 letters to NS, 4, 278–80 NS’s letters to, 225–6, 228–34, 245–6, 250–3, 254–5, 256–8, 259–60, 280–6, 289–92, 295–7 ‘Personal Note’ in Selected Poems of Marion Angus, 277, 279, 280 scholarship on, 281 Sea Buckthorn, 199 Up the Noran Water, 289, 290 Cults, 16, 34, 134, 207, 252, 270, 278, 307 Dane, Clemence (Winifred Ashton), 62, 63, 64, 66 Dante Alighieri, 16, 18–19 Daunt, Beatrice Marjorie, 15, 16 Davies, Peter, 49, 165 Deeside Field Club, 232–3 Dent, 165 Dinnet, 56, 58, 67, 71, 141 Dinnie, Clarinda, 223, 224 Donati, Gemma, 18, 19 Doric, 4, 5, 23, 45, 203, 260 Doughty, Charles Montagu, Travels in Arabia Deserta, 96, 185, 186 Douglas, Catherine, 90, 91 Dow, Griselda Annie, 36, 37 Doyle, Mary, 241 Drummond, Henry J. H., 280, 282 Duff, Janet, 71 Duke, Winifred, The Laird, 80, 81 Dulac, Edmund, 55 Dunne, John William, New Immortality, 148, 149 Dunnett, Alastair, 212 Dürer, Albrecht, 92, 94 Duval, Kulgin Dalby Hugh MacDiarmid: A Festschrift, 254, 255, 257, 258 prospectus, 225, 226, 251–2 E. P. Dutton, 132, 133 Edinburgh Festival

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index  331 Cruikshank and NS at, 225, 229, 321 Epstein Exhibition, 245, 246, 251 NS at, 3, 225, 229, 232, 233, 245, 252, 259–60 NS unable to attend, 251 Edinburgh University Press, 210, 216 Eliot, George, The Mill on the Floss, 32 Eliot, T. S., Four Quartets, 193 Ellis Roberts, Richard, 91, 92, 93 Life & Letters, 136, 137 Epstein, Jacob, 245, 246, 251 Evans, Charles Seddon, 20, 21, 31, 32, 33, 34, 37, 39, 43, 44, 47, 49, 57, 59, 64, 80, 81, 121 Faber, Geoffrey, 169, 170 Faber & Faber, 115, 163, 164, 204, 279 Farjeon, Eleanor, 54 Fergusson, James, 189, 191 Fletcher, John, 31, 32 Ford, John, 52, 53 Francesca da Rimini, 19 Fraser, G. S., ‘Home Town Elegy,’ 256 Fyfe, William Hamilton, 285, 286 Gaelic Douglas Macdonald’s study of, 98, 102 Henderson’s essay on, 125 Lallans and, 190 love-songs, 68 MacLean and Campbell Hay’s writing in, 290, 291 Thomson’s poetry, 231 Galsworthy, John, 64, 66 Garry, Flora, 296, 297, 312 Garry, Robert Campbell, 312, 313 Gaskell, Elizabeth, 92, 94, 95 Gibson, Jean, 255, 257, 258 Gielgud, John, 92, 93 Gilbert, Margery (née Adlington), 240, 241, 243 Gilbert, William Gilbert Lyon, 239, 240, 241, 243 Glenshiel Rising, 38, 39–40 Goldsmith, Oliver, 24 Gow, Griselda Annie, 36, 37

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332   nan shepherd’s correspondence Gowans & Grey, 141–2 Graham, Cuthbert biographical sketch, 321–2 birthday card for NS, 307–8 honorary doctorate, 312, 313, 322 introduction to The White Bird Passes, 309 ‘Jessie Kesson’s Hero has a Heart of Granite,’ 261 Kesson’s Where the Apple Ripens and, 299, 300 the north-east writers and, 296 The Press and Journal: North-East Muse Anthology, 298 Grant, Isabel Frances, Everyday Life in Old Scotland, 128, 129 Grassic Gibbon, Lewis (James Leslie Mitchell) academic studies on, 1–2 biography of, 252, 253 Lewis Grassic Gibbon Exhibition, 290 NS to speak about at Arbuthnott church, 233, 234 A Scots Hairst, 226 Sunset Song, 1 Gray, Alice (née Gunn), 210, 211, 234, 235, 238, 239, 322 Gray, Sir Alexander biographical sketch, 322 ‘On a Cat, Ageing,’ 200, 201, 235 essay on George Adam Smith, 226, 227–8, 234, 235 Four and Forty, 210, 211, 322 Historical Ballads of Denmark, 210, 211, 216 ill health, 226–7, 239, 246, 249 letters to NS, 209–14, 215–17, 218–19, 221–3, 226–8, 234–5, 238–9, 246–9 opening speech for the King’s College Library extension, 210, 211, 217, 218–19 translations of Danish ballads, 210, 211–13, 214, 215–16, 220–3, 227, 234–5, 246–9, 322 typewritten letters, 4

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Gray, Winniefred, 62, 63 Greens, Dorothy, 92, 93 Grierson, Herbert, 66, 117, 121, 207, 208, 327 Grieve, C. M. Angus’s impression of, 108 biographical sketch, 322–4 Cruikshank’s friendship with, 225, 226, 231, 232 NS’s letters to, 146–7 The Quarry Wood and, 78, 79 Shepherd’s admiration for the work of, 108, 109 see also MacDiarmid, Hugh Grieve, Christopher, 238, 323, 324 Grieve, Walter, 323, 324 Grundtvig, N. F. S., 211, 212, 213, 235 Gummere, Francis Barton, 119, 121 Gunn, Alisdair, 301, 302 Gunn, Dairmid, 301, 302 Gunn, Daisy, 78, 79, 104, 105, 110, 115, 154, 156, 157, 262, 324, 325 Gunn, Neil M. The Ancient Fire, 79 The Atom of Delight, 203 Beyond the Cage, 193, 194 biographical sketch, 324–5 Bloodhunt, 192–3 Bruce’s essay on, 294–5 Butcher’s Broom, 138, 139, 158 correspondence at the National Library of Scotland, 293–5 The Dead Seaman, 111, 113 drama, 78–9 80th birthday celebrations, 293, 294–5 friendship with Shepherd, 102, 103, 104–5, 110 in Germany, 150–1 The Hawk’s Feather, 78 Hidden Doors, 77, 97, 98, 168, 169 Highland Pact, 174, 175 Highland River, 140, 142, 160, 161 ill health, 262–3, 288, 289, 293, 294, 295, 325

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letters to NS, 78–9, 84–5, 101–2, 104–5, 106–7, 110, 126–7, 130–1, 135–6, 140, 151–2, 153–7, 158–61, 163–4, 172–3, 174–5, 193–4, 203–4, 261–2, 287–9, 293–4 The Lost Chart, 174, 175 The Lost Glen, 77, 78, 79, 80, 81, 113–14, 115, 150, 151, 152 Morning Tide, 96–7, 98, 101, 102, 113, 115, 204, 324 Neil M. Gunn: A Highland Life (biography), 301 NS’s letters to, 76–7, 86, 96–8, 103–4, 109–10, 111, 113–15, 138–9, 150–1, 154, 158, 167–9, 170–2, 173–4, 175, 187–8, 192–3, 197–9, 262–3, 286–7, 292–3, 294 NS’s praise for The Drinking Well, 168, 169 NS’s praise for The Shadow, 170–1, 172 NS’s praise for The Silver Bough, 173–4 on NS’s qualities as a writer, 154, 156–7, 163 on NS’s review of his work, 151–2 on NS’s verse, 105, 106–7, 126–7, 172–3 ‘Off in a Boat,’ 164 The Other Landscape, 197–9 on A Pass in the Grampians, 130–1 P.E.N, Scotland, 121 possible TV by interview by NS, 294, 295 praise for In the Cairngorms, 106–7, 135–6 praise for Quarry Wood, 78, 104, 105 praise for The Living Mountain, 154, 163–4 praise for The Weatherhouse, 85 on the publication process, 153, 163 reviews, 159, 160, 198–9 scholarship on, 2 Second Sight, 150, 151, 152

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index  333 The Serpent, 154, 159, 160, 161 The Shadow, 170, 172, 173 The Silver Bough, 174, 192, 193 The Silver Darlings, 153, 160 Sun Circle, 131 on transcendental drugs, 288 The well at the world’s end, 187–8 Wild Geese Overhead, 150, 151 Young Art & Old Hector, 160 Guthrie, Patrick Alexander (Sandy), 274, 275, 279, 280 Guthrie, Sir (William) Tyrone, 274, 275 Harper’s Magazine, 50 Harris, 111, 113 Hart, Francis Russell, 288 Neil M. Gunn: A Highland Life, 300–1 Harvey, George Rowntree, 184, 185, 186 Hastings, James, 7, 8, 29, 326 Hebrides, 240–1, 242, 292, 293 Heelan, 256 Heinemann Charles Seddon Evans at, 20 London publishers, 69, 71 as Mackenzie’s publishers, 21, 22, 34, 80, 81, 82, 83 possible publication of The Quarry Wood, 30–1, 34, 37, 39, 43, 44, 64, 65 see also Evans, Charles Seddon Henderson, James MacDonald, 184, 185 Henderson, Keith, 152–3 Henderson, Thomas, 122, 125 Henderson, Thomas Finlayson, 116, 117 Hendry, Alexander William, 76 Hendry, Alice (née Thompson), 167, 195, 197, 250, 257, 310 Hendry, Daphne (later Penny, then Randerson), 167, 249–50, 257, 258, 303, 304, 309–10 Hendry, Eileen, 76 Hendry, James Leith, 195, 197 Hendry, Margaret, 250

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334   nan shepherd’s correspondence Hendry, William ‘Billy,’ 250 Hettie T. [unidentified], 48, 55, 62, 63, 67, 83, 84 His Majesty’s Theatre, Aberdeen, 119, 121 Hogg, James, The Brownie of Bodsbeck and Other Tales, 202, 203 Horne, J. G., 189, 190 Hubbard, Chrissie, 256, 258, 259 Hull, Richard, Excellent Intentions, 179, 180 Hutchinson, Arthur Stuart-Menteth, 42, 44, 57, 59 Huxley, Aldous, 80, 81, 288 Those Barren Leaves, 47, 49 Hyslop, Archibald, 52, 53 Ibsen, Henrik language, 142, 143 The Wild Duck, 58, 60 In the Cairngorms ‘Above Loch Avon,’ 147, 148 Angus’s support for, 108, 109 ‘Blackbird in Snow,’ 111–12, 113, 126–7 ‘Fires,’ 147, 148 Gunn’s praise for, 106–7, 135–6 Mackenzie’s praise for, 136, 137 prospective publishers for, 105, 106, 107, 108, 111, 114–15 re-publication, 1 reviews, 142, 143 Inchnadamph, 244 Innes of Learney, Sir Thomas, 177, 178, 179, 184 Inveralligin, 257 Irvine, Elsa, 205, 206, 208, 209 Irvine, Lyn Alison Cairns and Her family, 232, 233, 265, 266, 267 ‘Epitaph on a Dull Woman,’ 148 Field with Geese, 236, 237, 239, 240, 241, 242, 243 NS’s letters to, 205–9, 236–7, 239–41, 242–3, 264–9 NS’s support for, 3

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obituary for W. G. L. Gilbert, 239, 240, 241, 243 So Much Love, So Little Money, 205, 206, 207–8 Ten Letter Writers, 206 trip to the Hebrides, 113, 240–1, 242 Irwin, Margaret, 73, 74, 76 J. G. Bisset, 9 Jack, Aldophus Alfred ‘Dolphy,’ 26, 29, 38, 39, 49, 50, 51, 52, 53, 72 court case, 57, 59, 67, 69, 71 Verses from New King’s by Some Former Students of Aberdeen University, 147–8 James, Henry, What Maisie Knew, 218 James Abernethy & Co, 207, 208 Jamieson, Robert, 223–4 Jeffrey, William, 85, 86 Jenkins, May, 296, 297 Jirnassian, Hélène Marie Michele, 314 ‘Jock’ see Mackenzie, Jean ‘Jock’ John Heritage, 99, 103 John o’ London’s Weekly, 48, 49 Johnson, Samuel, 204 Johnston, Thomas, 182, 183 Jolly, Robert, 146, 147 Jonathan Cape, 57, 59 Jonson, Ben, Bartholomew Fair, 55, 56 Joseph, Michael, 165 Joyce, James, 42, 44 Joynson-Hicks, William ‘Jix,’ 79, 81 Kailyard School, 30–1, 31–2, 80, 81, 99 Kaye-Smith, Sheila, 31, 32, 38 Kay-Larsen, Mögens, 235 Keats, John The Eve of St. Agnes, 19, 21 ‘On First Looking into Chapman’s Homer,’ 86, 88 ‘Ode to a Grecian Urn,’ 159, 160 Keith, Alexander, 264–5 Kelly, Mary Carmichael, 206 Kelly, William, 90, 91 Kenmore, 290 Kennedy-Fraser, Marjorie, Songs of the Hebrides, 7, 8

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Kesson, Avril, 306 Kesson, Jessie Another Time, Another Place, 312, 313, 326 biographical sketch, 325–6 ‘For Cheryl, a Mongol Girl,’ 300 Dear Edith, 302 documentary film on, 312, 313 first meeting with NS, 307, 325 Glitter of Mica, 256, 258, 259, 261, 325 letters to NS, 310–11 NS’s letters to, 219–20, 253–4, 256–7, 258–9, 260–1, 263–4, 297, 299–300, 305–7, 308–9, 313–14 NS’s review of The White Bird Passes, 217–18, 300 NS’s support for, 3, 325 possible autobiography, 300 TV adaptation of The White Bird Passes, 307, 308, 309, 312, 313, 326 Where the Apple Ripens, 299–300, 325–6 The White Bird Passes, 309, 325 work at Abbeyfields old people’s home, 306, 310–12 Kesson, John, 256, 258, 259, 261, 264, 306, 325, 326 Kesson, Kenneth, 261, 306, 325 Kilham Roberts, Denys, 161, 162 Kinsley, James, Scottish Poetry: A Critical Survey, 195, 196 Kintail, 251, 252 Kittredge, George Lyman, Chaucer and His Poetry, 25, 26 Knight, Arthur Rex, 239, 240, 258, 259, 262 Knight, Margaret, 265, 266 Knox, John, 131, 133 Kyllman, Otto, 57, 58, 60, 61, 64, 66, 68, 71, 106 Lairhillock Inn, 228 Laurvig, Countess Ingegerd Ahlefeldt, 181

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index  335 Lawrence, D. H., 42, 43, 44 Lawson, Mary Christmas 1946, 166, 167 Christmas 1951, 192 Coulston’s children’s visit to, 252, 253 death of, 309, 310 enjoyment of Morning Tide, 98 ill health, 175, 176, 183, 291, 292, 293 impression of Glitter of Mica (Kesson), 261 NS’s housekeeper and companion, 99 trip to Kenmore with NS, 290, 291 trip to the Italian lakes, 242, 243 Leighton, Clare, 55–6, 270, 309, 310 letters chronology, 5 notes, 5–6 Scots and Scottish references, 4–5 sources, 3–4 transcription, 4 Lewis, 111, 113 Lindsay, Maurice, 189, 191, 211, 277, 279, 280 Linklater, Eric as guest of honour at a Saltire dinner, 281 Juan in America, 101, 102 review of Between Sun and Moon, 116–17, 118 scholarship on, 2 Scottish literature and, 141, 142, 179, 282 ‘Teheran,’ 148 Listener, The, 116, 117 Living Mountain, The advance payments, 159, 160 Gunn’s opinion, 163–4 Morrice’s admiration for, 297–8 ‘The Plateau’ as possible title, 154 possible publishers, 164, 165, 169, 170 public acclaim, 1 publication of, 164, 165, 298 writing of, 153 Lobban, John Hay, 15, 16, 20, 21, 29 Lochaber, 82

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336   nan shepherd’s correspondence Lochhead, Marion, 231, 232, 283, 284 Lodestone, 11–12 Lord Lyon, post of, 177, 178, 179, 184 Lumsden, Alison, 2 Mac Colla, Fionn (Thomas Joseph Douglas MacDonald), 153 The Albannach, 97–8, 98–9, 102–3, 145, 146, 241 And the Cock Crew, 241 MacCaig, Norman, 221, 224 MacCarthy, Desmond, 64, 66 MacDairmid, James Michael, 144 MacDiarmid, Hugh academic studies on, 2 autobiography, 144 To Circumjack Cencrastus, 87, 88, 103, 104, 231, 232 correspondence, 279 A Festschrift, 254, 255, 257, 258 New Hungarian Quarterly, 238 ‘New Scottish Fiction,’ 79 NS’s lectures on, 143–4 NS’s letters to, 143–6, 237–8, 241–2 NS’s praise for, 87 P.E.N, Scotland, 121 Penny Wheep, 189, 190, 191 ‘The Poetry of Hugh MacDiarmid’ (Shepherd), 107, 144, 145, 146, 285, 286 Sangschaw, 189, 191 Scots as a literary language, 144, 189, 191 the Scottish Renaissance and, 98, 101, 102, 124, 126 Second Hymn to Lenin, 143, 145 on Shetland, 144, 145, 323 Stony Limits and Other Poems, 144, 145 support for Douglas MacDonald, 99 support for Marion Angus, 320 ‘Synthetic Scots’ term and, 189, 191 time in Hungary, 238, 242, 323 Voice of Scotland, 145, 146 see also Grieve, C. M. McDonald, George, 70, 72

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MacDonald, Thomas Joseph Douglas (Fionn Mac Colla), 153 The Albannach, 97–8, 98–9, 102–3, 145, 146, 241 And the Cock Crew, 241 McDougall, William, 58, 59 Macfarlane, Robert, 1 Macgillivray, Dr Angus, 9 McGlashan, Jean Margaret (née Reid), 180, 181, 185 McGlashan, William, 179, 180, 181, 185 Macgregor, Stuart, Four Points of a Saltire, 290, 291 Mackenzie, Anges Mure ‘Muriel’ at Aberdeen Training College, 11, 12, 16 Aberdeen University dinners, 35, 40, 41 Alma Mater Anthology, 8 at Anthony & Cleopatra, 92–3 Apprentice Majesty, 165, 166, 183 arrogance, 48, 62 on art, 10, 12 on the art of dialogue, 23 biographical sketch, 326–7 on In the Cairngorms, 136, 137 Carvel the cat, 195, 197, 200, 201 conditions during World War II, 162 contributions to the Aberdeen University Review, 54, 56, 197 correspondence, 268 criticism of the Wee Free churches, 70, 121–2, 124, 128, 129 curriculum vitae (CV), 26, 28–9 Cypress in Moonlight, 92, 132, 133 on Dante, 16, 18–19 death of, 231, 232, 233 on dentistry, 17 The Easterlings, 35, 36, 43, 57, 59 The Falling Wind, 60, 62, 80, 81 as a fencer, 25, 27, 35, 48, 55, 56, 136 A Garland of Scottish Prose, 200, 201

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The Half-Loaf: A Comedy of Chance and Error in Three Acts, 35, 36, 38–9, 40, 41, 43, 44, 58, 61, 63, 64, 80 hearing loss, 16, 25, 66, 82–3, 84, 92, 100, 200, 326 An Historical Survey of Scottish Literature, 116, 117, 119, 121, 123, 128, 129, 130, 132, 133, 137, 138, 196 A History of Britain and Europe for Scottish Schools, 182–3, 200, 201 A History of Scotland, 133, 136–7, 281, 309, 310, 326 holidays, 99–100, 165 Honorary Presidency of the Saltaire Society, 200, 201 lectures, 195, 197, 200 lectureship at Birkbeck College, 9–11, 14, 15, 16, 20, 25, 63, 65, 84, 278–9 letters to NS, 8–36, 37–74, 79–80, 91–3, 99–100, 115–26, 127–30, 131–4, 136–8, 161–3, 164–6, 182–3, 194–7, 200–1 literary career, 42–3, 119–20, 125, 136 literary criticism and reviewing work, 25, 50, 54, 57, 59, 61, 70, 73, 92, 101, 116, 119–20, 122, 129, 136, 140, 326 on London life, 10, 14, 50, 54 Lost Kinnellan, 40–1, 41–2, 44, 48, 49, 50, 51–2, 52–3, 53–4, 57, 58, 59, 60, 61, 64, 70, 72 on Modernist fiction, 42, 44 as ‘Muriel,’ 36, 37, 309, 310 new flat in Edinburgh, 182, 183, 195, 196 NS’s posthumous portrait of, 125, 206, 327 on NS’s verse, 23, 24–5 Out of Hearing, 61, 62, 80, 82 P.E.N, Scotland, 119 The Playgoers’ Handbook to the English Renaissance Drama, 32, 48, 49, 52, 53

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index  337 poetry, 9, 11 poor handwriting, 4 portrait, 48 The Process of Literature, 57–8, 59, 61, 62, 63, 75, 76, 80, 82, 83–4, 94 on The Quarry Wood, 32–3, 37, 43, 44–6, 47, 49, 52, 53, 61 The Quiet Lady, 16, 29, 30, 31, 38, 39, 41, 51, 54, 60, 61, 64, 67, 71, 136, 138 relationship with Heinemann and Evans, 21, 31, 34, 37, 43, 47, 54, 57, 65, 80, 81, 83 on religion, 131–2 reviews, 25, 27, 31, 41, 42, 43, 61–2, 67, 82, 83–4, 116–17, 118, 119, 136, 137–8 on rewriting, 66–7, 80 Rival Establishments in Scotland, 182, 183 Robert Bruce: King of Scots, 127, 129, 133, 136, 137, 161–2, 163 ‘The Saltire Society: its Background and Purpose,’ 195, 197 on the Scots character, 69–70, 119, 125, 127–8, 128–9 Scottish Pageant, 160, 162 selah, term, 9, 18, 25, 26, 35, 36, 46, 47, 82, 84 Seven Kings & a Queen, 136, 138 on Shakespeare, 92–3 Single Combat, 119, 120, 132, 133, 137, 138 on smoking, 17 the Squire trial, 122–3, 125 Between Sun and Moon, 115–16, 117, 118, 119, 120, 121, 123, 126, 132, 133 talk to Reviews of Rabbie, 121–2, 124 time at Winterbank, 27, 29, 79, 81 tiredness and ill health, 10, 14, 15, 25, 26, 33, 40, 54, 73, 82–3, 92, 116, 119, 120, 132, 162, 196 on the trials and tribulations of the publishing process, 22, 30–1, 57, 64, 65, 161

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338   nan shepherd’s correspondence Mackenzie, Anges Mure ‘Muriel’ (cont.) ‘Western Moon,’ 148 Without Conditions, 17, 18, 20, 21, 22–3, 24, 27–8, 29, 32, 43, 64, 66 The Women in Shakespeare’s Plays, 20, 21, 64, 80 Writers Club luncheon, 38 writing career, 26, 27–8, 42, 61–2, 80, 91–2 writing style, 267–8 Mackenzie, Edward Briggs Drake, 119, 120, 123, 126, 163, 166, 231 Mackenzie, Edward Montague Compton, 80, 81, 97, 98 Mackenzie, Jean ‘Jock’ after Agnes Mure’s death, 232 faith, 131, 133 Her Majesty’s Inspectorate of Schools possible recruitment of, 195, 196 ill health, 48, 49, 231, 232 as Mackenzie’s sister and lifelong companion, 18, 19, 35, 36, 58, 60, 62, 63, 73, 74, 122, 125, 128, 130, 162, 163, 182, 326 spoken French, 100 work for the Saltire Society, 200, 201, 232, 233 Mackenzie, John ‘Johnny’ Archie, 195, 196 Mackenzie, mother, 123, 128 Mackenzie, Peggy, 123, 162, 163, 165, 166 Mackenzie, Sir (William) Leslie, 7, 8 Mackie, George, 216, 223, 224, 317, 319, 320–1 Mackie, James, 230–1 Mackie, Rachel, 318, 319 Mackie, Robert Laird, 223, 224, 230 MacLean, Sorley, Four Points of a Saltire, 290, 291 Maclehose, Alexander, 127, 129, 131, 136, 138, 153 Macleod, Joseph Todd Gordon, 160

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Macmichael Galbraith, Carol, 231 Macmillan, Kenneth, 272–3 Macmurray, Betty, 111, 113, 283, 284, 285 Macmurray, John, 111, 113, 161, 162, 283, 284, 285 MacNaughton, Ellen Turner, 42, 44 McNaughton, Jean Herron Love, 185, 186 McNaughton, John Love letters to NS, 176–9, 180–1, 184–5 NS’s letters to, 175–6, 179–80, 185–6 suggestions for the new town motto for Buckie, Moray, 184–7 McNeill, F. Marian, 141, 142 McPherson, Ian, Shepherd’s Calendar, 118, 120 MacPherson, Ian, 153 Mangersta, Lewis, 54, 56 Mansfield, Katherine, 98, 99 Marlowe, Christopher, Edward II, 11–12 Masefield, John, 64, 66 Mason, Alfred Edward Woodley, The Philanderers, 58, 59 Medd, R. T., 108, 109 Melrose, Andrew, 64, 65 Mennie Shire, Helena Music of Scotland and, 214–15 Poems and Songs of Sir Robert Ayton, 245, 246 Poems from Panmure House, 238, 239 Menteith, John de, 161, 163 Merson, William James, 184, 185, 186, 187 Middleton, Rebecca ‘Ray,’ 233, 234 Miller, Hugh, 116, 117 Milne, A. A., The Wind in the Willows, 167 Milne, John Clark, 296, 297 Collected Poems, 260, 263, 264, 291, 292 Milne, William, Eppie Elrick: An Aberdeenshire Tale of the ’15, 201–2, 203

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Milton, John Comus, 55, 56 Il Penseroso, 27, 29 Paradise Lost, 96, 98 Mitchell, E. R., ‘Fable,’ 148 Mitchell, Gladys Muriel, 11, 12, 35, 36, 37, 116, 118, 165, 166 Mitchell, James Leslie see Grassic Gibbon, Lewis (James Leslie Mitchell) Mitchell, Rebecca ‘Ray’ (née Middleton), 233, 234 Mitchison, Naomi, 80, 81, 117, 118, 122, 125 Modern Scot, The, 97, 98, 101, 102, 124, 126 Moffatt, Elsie, 219, 220, 253 Mordaunt, Frances Galloway, 42, 44 More, Sir Thomas, 121, 124 Morley, Christopher, Thunder on the Left, 47, 49 Morrice, Ken, 296, 297–8 Morrison, Eric, 265, 266, 269 Mount Battock, 53, 55 Muchalls, Kincardineshire, 50 Muir, Edwin, 2, 159, 160 Muir, Marie, 204 Muir, Willa, 2 Munro, Ian Sherwood NS and Cruikshank’s friendship with, 231, 232, 252, 253, 259, 260, 281, 282, 286, 290, 296 A Scots Hairst, 225, 226 Munro, Mary, 295, 296 Munro, Neil, 97, 99 Munro, Robin, 286 Murison, David, 188–91, 201–2, 281, 282 Murray, Charles birthplace, 305 death of, 307 Hamewith, 303, 304 Hamewith: The Complete Poems of Charles Murray, 305–6 Last Poems, 285–6, 291, 292 NS’s support for, 3, 257, 258 Murray, John, 45, 47 Murray, Marris, 304–5

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index  339 Nakamura, Tokusaburo, 288 National Party of Scotland, 102, 103 Neill, William, Four Points of a Saltire, 290, 291 New Hungarian Quarterly, 238, 242 New Statesman, 92, 93, 94, 100, 101, 137 Newman, Max, 205, 208–9 Newtownmore, 207, 208 Niven, Marjorie, 10 North Esk, 296 Northern Muse, 300 Old Machar (parish), 38, 40, 50 Oliphant, Carolina, Lady Nairne, 143, 145 Oliver, John W., 232, 233 Onich, 165, 166 Orr, Christine, 26, 29 Kate Curlew, 80, 81 Orwel, Henry, 10 Palmer McCulloch, Margery, 2 Pass in the Grampians, A (a.k.a. the Pig) Bella Cassie, 130, 131 cover for, 122 Gunn’s admiration for, 130–1 the Northern Pass, 130, 131 public acclaim, 1 writing of, 82, 83, 84, 111, 113, 116, 117, 118, 123, 124 Pater, Walter, 151, 152 Peacock, Charlotte, 1, 2 P.E.N, Scotland, 85, 86, 88, 119, 120–1, 128, 134, 204, 279, 296, 321 Penny, Daphne (née Hendry, later Randerson), 167, 249–50, 257, 258, 303, 309–10 Penny, Elizabeth ‘Willa,’ 303 Penny, Lindsay, 310 Petine [unidentified], 39, 42, 44 Pick, John, 301 Pitfodels, 69, 72 Pittendrigh MacGillivray, James, 189, 190

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340   nan shepherd’s correspondence Plato, 68, 71, 87, 88 Porpoise Press, 78, 79, 81, 97, 99, 102, 119, 121, 204, 235, 279, 324 Power, William, 141, 142 Powys, John Cowper, Defence of Sensuality, 114, 115 Powys, Llewellyn, 31, 32, 47, 49 Pratt, John Burnett, 202 Presbyterianism, 129, 131, 133 Press and Journal, 261, 296, 322 Proust, Marcel, 250 Punch Magazine, 116–17, 118, 136, 138 Quarry Wood (place), 278 Quarry Wood, The comparisons with the Kailyard School, 30–1, 31–2, 46 Constable & Co.’s interest and publication of, 44–6, 47, 61, 62, 63, 64, 65, 66, 71, 72, 74 cover, 39, 40 Doric references, 4–5 Gunn’s admiration for, 78, 104, 105 Mackenzie’s promotion of, 60, 61 Mackenzie’s review of, 32–3 McKenzie’s attempted sale of, 34, 37, 39, 43, 44, 47, 49, 52, 53 origins in ‘Speirin’ Jean‘, 20, 21, 22, 24, 25, 26 revisions to, 45, 61, 68, 70 scholarship on, 1 as too Scotch for English readers, 52 writing of, 27, 30 Quisling, Vidkun Abraham Lauritz Jonssøn, 161, 163 Radford, Michael, 307, 309, 313, 326 Raeburn, Henry, 18, 19 Ramsay, Mary Paton, 245, 246 Ramsay, Sir William Mitchell, 223–4 Randerson, Daphne (née Hendry, later Penny, then Randerson), 167, 249–50, 257, 258, 303, 304, 309–10 Randerson, Ian, 310 Ranee of Sarawak, Margaret, Lady Brooke, 38, 39

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Recke, Ernst von der, 235 Rich, Lilianne Grant, The White Rose of Druminnor, and Other Poems, 291, 292 Robert the Bruce, 90, 91 Robertson, Edith Collected Ballads and Poems in the Scots Tongue, 269–70, 278 NS’s letters to, 95–6, 244, 278 Roger, Grant, 166–7 Roger, Jean, 166–7, 175–6, 191–2 Roger, John, 191, 192 Roger, Neil, 166, 167, 191, 192 Roger, Sheila, 40 Rose, William, 224 Ross, Alexander, Helenore, 188, 190 Rowntree Harveys, George, ‘South Wind,’ 148 Royde Smith, Naomi, 38, 39, 62, 63 Rumbling Bridge, 149 Rumi, 237 Sackville-West, Edward, A Flame in the Sunlight: The Life and Work of Thomas de Quincey, 139, 140 Sadleir, Michael, 45, 46, 68, 72 St Hilda’s Church, Crofton Park, London, 10, 12 Saintsbury, George, History of Criticism, 68, 72 Salmond, James Bell, 79, 164, 324 Saltire Society ‘Book of the Year’ prize, 199 ‘Jock’ Mackenzie’s work for, 200, 201, 232, 233 Linklater as guest speaker at, 281 Mackenzie’s involvement with, 197 Murison on the Committee of, 189–90 NS’s involvement with, 225, 251, 259, 266, 296 the Cairn’s involvement with, 232, 233 ‘The Saltire Society: its Background and Purpose,’ 195, 197 Saturday Magazine, 38, 40, 67 Saurat, Denis, 189

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Schlich, Gertrude, 93 Scots Buchan dialect, 201–3 Lallans, 189, 190 in MacDiarmid’s works, 144 in Mackenzie’s works, 30 in NS’s works, 32, 45 Scottish National Dictionary, 178, 179, 188–90, 282 suggestions for the new town motto for Buckie, Moray, 176–81, 184–7 ‘Synthetic Scots’ term, 189, 191 ‘This Vulgar Tongue’ (Henderson), 125 in The Weatherhouse, 89 Scots Literature and Song Society, 281 Scots Magazine, The Grieve’s editorship of, 78, 79 publication of Gunn’s work, 78, 79, 115, 157, 164, 324 publication of NS’s work, 78, 79, 157, 158, 283, 284 rejection of Mackenzie’s work, 80, 81 Scotsman, The notice of NS’s honorary doctorate, 261 obituary for Ella Clark, 245 publication of Gray’s poetry, 210, 211, 212 reviews of Mackenzie’s work, 82, 83, 84, 118 Scott, Alexander, 218, 223, 224 Scott, F. G., 143 Scott, Peter, 239, 240, 241, 242, 243 Scott, Sir Walter, 23 ‘Fair Helen of Kirconnell,’ 211, 212 letters of, 116, 117 Rob Roy, 121, 124 Waverley, 38, 39 Scottish Art and Letters, 218 Scottish Field, 230, 231 Scottish Life & Letters, 286 Scottish literature in the Aberdeen Training College curriculum, 157 foundational narrative poems, 117 Glasgow School, 78, 79

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index  341 Kailyard school, 30–1, 31–2, 46, 80, 81, 99 the literary scene, 78 Mackenzie on novels in, 80 Mackenzie’s association with, 101, 125 Mitchison’s discussion of, 123, 125 NS and Neil Gunn, 101 Shepherd’s association with, 101, 141 Scottish National Dictionary, 178, 179, 188–90, 282 Scottish National Party, 103, 162 Scottish nationalism, 61, 80, 81, 97, 98, 102 Scottish Players, 78 Scottish Renaissance, 1–2, 30, 61, 97, 98, 101, 102, 124, 126 Scottish Text Society, 213, 214 selah, term, 9, 18, 25, 26, 35, 36, 46, 47, 82, 84 Shakespeare, William Anthony & Cleopatra, 92–3 Hamlet, 61, 93 Henry IV, 87, 88 Henry V, 123, 126 King Lear, 54 Macbeth, 93 Much Ado about Nothing, 10 Othello, 93 Richard II, 92 Sonnet 66, 65 Titus Andronicus, 20 tricky second acts, 132 Shaw, George Bernard, Saint Joan, 87, 88 Shepherd, Jeannie (née Kelly) accident, 99, 100 Christmas gifts, 166, 175, 176 death of, 183 80th birthday, 161, 162 ill health, 173, 174, 175 Marion Agnus and, 134, 139, 140, 141, 142, 148 NS’s mother, 90, 91, 93, 95, 109, 115 Shepherd, John, 309, 310

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342   nan shepherd’s correspondence Shepherd, Nan (NS) at Aberdeen Training College, 24, 26, 27, 29, 45, 47, 50, 60, 88, 89, 117, 118, 119, 144, 157 Angus’s friendship with, 90, 103 on animal nature, 236–7, 243 on artistic production, 86–7 biography, 1, 2 dislike of over-praise, 86 fan letter to, 84 first meeting with Kesson, 307, 325 the garden at Cults, 168, 225, 231, 255, 257, 259, 278, 290, 296, 307, 308, 310 gift of a hill painting, 181 handwriting, 4 in the Hebrides, 292, 293 honorary doctorate from Aberdeen University, 261–2, 263 ill health, 87, 88, 95, 105, 171–2, 175, 185, 230, 245, 246, 247, 248, 251, 259, 286, 291, 306–7, 308, 309–10, 312 lectures and talks, 143–4, 220, 225, 256, 257, 285, 296 Miss Tiddles the cat, 195, 197, 200, 201 move to Annesley House, nursing home, 309, 312, 313, 314, 315, 317–18 offer to partner in the publication of Mackenzie’s book, 127, 129, 131, 133 on old age, 278, 315–16, 317–18 posthumous portrait of Mackenzie, 125, 206, 327 proposed move from Cults to Banchory, 307, 308, 310 scholarship on, 1–2 suggestions for the new town motto for Buckie, Moray, 176–81, 184–7 support for other writers, 1, 2–3 time in the Cairngorms, 14, 87, 88, 111 trip to Kintail, 251, 252 trip to the Italian lakes, 242–3, 244 trip to the Western Isles, 111, 113

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visit to Daphne Hendry, 303–4 visit to Shetland, 185–6, 187 writers’ block, 103 see also Aberdeen University Review; works Shirley, Hutchinson, 142 Sidney, Sir Philip, 10, 12 Simpson, Stanley, 289 Simpson, W. Douglas, 214, 215, 248, 268, 280 Sitwell, Francis Osbert Sacheverell, 38, 39, 94 Slacker, Douglas, 38 Smith, George Adam, 226–8, 234, 235 Smith, George Gregory, 116, 117 Smith, Janet Adam, 265 Smith, Sidney, 121, 124 Smith, Sydney Goodsir, 255 The Wallace, 229, 230 Smith Templeton, Jean, 10, 12, 41, 43, 53, 183, 195, 196, 231, 251, 254, 255, 259, 260, 281, 282 Smyth, Owen P., 92, 93, 94 Society of Authors, 123, 125, 161 Somerset House, London, 271, 272, 273, 275, 276, 277 Soutar, William biographical sketch, 327 Conflict, 108, 109 NS’s letters to, 149, 157 Seeds in the Wind, 149, 157 Souter, Annie, 55, 56, 207, 208 Souter, Prof. Alexander, 56, 208 Spectator, The, 161 Squire, John Collings, 122–3, 125 Stevenson, Robert Louis, Underwoods, 189, 190 Storm, Lesley (Mabel Cowie) Lady, What of Life, 93, 94 Robin and Robina, 121, 124 Strathlene House, 186, 187 Studio, The, 153 Sunday at Home, 42, 44 Sutherland, James Runcieman, 148, 149 Swainson, Willan, 214, 215 Swan, Anne S., 143, 145

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Tales of Hoffman (film), 187, 188 Tam o’ the Linn, 61, 62 Taylor, Bill, 235–6 Taylor, Rachel Annand Aspects of the Italian Renaissance, 19–20, 21 the Celtic revival and, 19–20, 21, 125 eulogy for J. A. K. Thomson, 223–4 The Hours of Fiammetta, 20, 21 Taylor, Sir Thomas Murray, 180, 181 Templeton, Jean Smith see Smith Templeton, Jean Tennyson, Lord, 16 Third Spalding Club, 47, 66 Thomas, Ronald Stuart, 231, 232 Thomson, David Cleghorn, 85, 86, 100, 101 Scotland in Quest of Her Youth, 122, 125 Thomson, Derick, 231 Thomson, George Malcolm, 279, 280 Thomson, J. A. K., 223 Times Book Club, 65 Times Literary Supplement, 57, 59, 61, 82, 92, 97, 98, 119, 140, 199 Tomlinson, H. M., Gallion’s Reach, 114, 115, 170 Torphins, 220 Toulmin, David, Travels Without a Donkey, 314, 315 Trevlyn, James Michael, 145, 238, 323 Trevlyn, Valda, 144, 145, 238, 242, 324 Ulysses, 16 Urban II, 100, 101 Vernacular Circle, Burns Club, 47, 66 Voice of Scotland, 145, 146 Waddell, Helen, 62, 63, 105–6 Walker, Bella, 219, 220, 253 Wallace, William, 161, 163 Walmsley, Leo, Three Fevers, 168, 169 Walton, Anges, S., 15, 16 Walton, Samantha, 2 Watson, William, 273–4, 275 Watt, Alexander Pollock, 165, 166

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index  343 Watt, Harold, 269, 292 Waugh, George, 141, 142 Wee Free church, 71, 121–2, 124, 128, 129 Wells, H. G., 55, 56 Wells, Nannie Katherine, George Gordon, Lord Byron: A Scottish Genius, 256 Westminster Confession of Faith, 131, 133 Whyte, James Huntington, 97, 98, 100, 101, 102, 122, 123, 124, 126 Wilborne, Avril, 300 Wilson, Katharine M., 48, 49 Winterbank, 79, 81, 132, 134 Woden, George, 79 Wölcken, Fritz, 150, 151 Wolton, Agnes S., 70 Wood, Kenneth, 296, 297 Wordsworth, William, ‘Lines Composed a Few Miles Above Tintern Abbey,’ 287 works ‘Descent from the Cross,’ 156–7, 158, 159, 160 ‘The man who Journeys to his Heart’s Desire,’ 7, 8, 126 ‘Marion Angus as a Poet of Deeside,’ 270, 272, 274, 275, 279, 283, 284, 285 poetry, 103–4, 105, 106–7, 134 ‘The Poetry of Hugh MacDiarmid,’ 107, 144, 145, 146, 285, 286 recognition of, 1–2, 6 scholarship on, 2 ‘Speirin’ Jean,’ 20, 21, 22, 24, 25, 26 The Weatherhouse, 1, 43, 45, 70, 71, 73, 76, 79, 81, 85, 86, 91, 93 see also In the Cairngorms; Living Mountain, The; Pass in the Grampians, A (a.k.a. the Pig); Quarry Wood, The Writers’ and Artists’ Yearbook, 165, 166 Wyness, Fenton, Royal Valley, 283, 284 Wyness, Tony, 283 Year-Book, The, 64, 66, 73 Young, Douglas, 189, 190–1

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