It was late in the Special Collections room at the National
Library of Scotland on November 27th, 2015… I had been scrutinizing
17th Century MSS all day, examining the surviving works of Robert
Kirk, the Minister of Aberfoyle, best known for his extra-ordinary monograph, The Secret Commonwealth of Elves, Fauns
and Fairies – the heart of my PhD novel project at the University of
Leicester since September 2014. I had wanted to see Kirk’s writings for myself.
So much can be gained from beholding the actual handwriting of a historical
figure – the minute emphasis of a particular word, a name say, can infer so
much. And the marginalia discovered within manuscripts and notebooks – notes,
dates, addendum and doodles – can reveal much about the personality of the
writer, their thought processes, and their milieu. To actually hold one of
Kirk’s notebooks, after reading, pondering and writing about him for so long,
was thrilling; to behold his handwriting – like looking down the well of time.
If I had given up, downed tools, and returned to my domicile
(more of that in a minute) before perusing the last of my stack of archive
material – the least promising – then I might not have discovered what I did. I
was tired, I was hungry. My eyes were sore, and my stomach was saying:
dinner-time! But I dutifully persisted. I placed the last bound volume of 17th
Century material upon the reader. Islandised within the circle of light from my
reading lamp, the sole remaining scholar in the corner of the reading room, I
carefully opened its fragile, foxed pages...
To complete the Gothic quality of this vignette – the trope
of the ‘found manuscript’ which acts as the framing narrative for many tales of
the genre – I must add that I was staying at a castle during my time visiting
Edinburgh’s archives. In mid-November 2015 I had travelled to Hawthornden
International Writers Retreat, as one of their 5 guests for a month. I had
submitted an application for a residency, to allow me time to work upon the
manuscript of my Kirk novel in suitably atmospheric surroundings: and
Hawthornden could not have been more perfect.
The former home of the poet, William Drummond (1585-1649),
Hawthornden is dramatically-situated on a crag overlooking the swirling waters
of the Esk, close by Roslin Chapel, in Midlothian, 30 minutes from Auld Reekie
on the bus. Since 1982 80s it has been an International Writers Retreat, with
up to six writers staying for a month-long period to work upon their respectful
projects in ‘peaceful ease’. Lunch is brought to your comfortable room (named
after a canonical writer) is a Fortnum and Mason hamper. Apart from joining
your fellow retreatants for a pre-prandial sherry before dinner, no socialising
is expected. The castle is wifi free, and silence is maintained throughout the
day. There is a well-stocked library, along with a dungeon and Pictish caves.
One can feel the ambience of literary colloquy oozing from the walls. Les
Murray, Alasdair Gray, Helen Vendler, Olive Senior, Hilary Spurling, Andrew
Greig, Kathleen Jamie and many other writers of repute have stayed there. The
Hawthornden Prize is administered from its fastness, and every summer a ‘literary
salon’ with the winner (Colm Tóibín, Hilary Mantel and others of their calibre)
is held there. Many splendid signed first editions grace its magnificent
library – a bibliophile’s paradise.
To spend a month in such atmospheric surroundings, in the
domicile of Kirk’s near contemporary (they overlapped by half a decade) could
not have been more conducive to my project. I worked upon a 2nd
draft of my novel, writing forty thousand words, and edited the whole 160,000
word MS during my stay. I also wrote a few poems, and, of course, visited the
archives of Edinburgh at least once a week (making the most of my day out by
enjoying the museums, galleries, cafes, cinemas and social life of the handsome
city).
A Romantic Ruin: Hawthornden, the original tower |
And so, coming from this castle to visit the Special
Collections did not feel like a paradigm shift, but a continuation of a
narrative, a Gothic one. It was winter too, and snow did fall while I was
there. The light above the Lammermuir Hills had a fey quality to it as I set
out early for the day in the archives. Roslin Castle was said to be haunted by
a black shuck*, the Mauthe Doog. To complete the uncanniness, opposite
Hawthornden there is the research station where Dolly the Sheep was cloned... I
was only disappointed that throughout my time at the castle I never heard a
single rattling chain, moan or bump in the night. After Mary the Chef’s
legendary feasts prepared for us every night it was hard not to sleep soundly,
especially after a wee dram or two (a fine malt bequeathed to us by the
previous retreatants). The place seemed to have a spell of almost unnatural
quietude cast over it.
Yet something of its magic must have rubbed off on me as I
trekked to the bus-stop in Bonnyrigg, holding onto my hat in the hoolie that
assailed Midlothian during my stay, because it was amongst some old papers once
belonging to William Drummond himself that I discovered a most remarkable find ... a
bona fide found manuscript*[i], one
that bore Robert Kirk’s name...
I cannot say more than that at this stage, as it research I
have not yet published, so forgive me if I do not go into details here. Suffice
to say, to come across such a find felt like such an affirmation, the ultimate
seal of approval from Kirk (and Drummond). Their shades must have been looking
over me that day – and I raise a glass to them both.
***
Kevan Manwaring
is a writer and PhD Candidate at the University of Leicester. He is the author
of The Long Woman, Desiring Dragons, The
Bardic Handbook, Oxfordshire Folk Tales, Northamptonshire Folk Tales, and
is the editor of Ballad Tales: an
anthology of British ballads retold (The History Press). He blogs and
tweets as the Bardic Academic. The
Knowing – A Fantasy, published as an e-book 20th March, 2017, is
available on Amazon.
[i] Authentic
Inauthenticity: The Found Manuscript, Contemporary
Scottish Gothic: mourning, authenticity and tradition, Palgrave Gothic
Series, 2014: 54-88.