“The annual meeting for 1929 held Aug. 24 at the Memorial Cottage, Saranac Lake, was attended, as usual, by a large number of enthusiasts who had come to join in paying homage to the beloved R.L.S. Colonel Scott as presiding officer introduced the Rev. Albert Aune who gave the invocation … Colonel Scott greeted the audience in a few words …”

— “General Report for 1929,” Stevenson Society of America

President Col. Walter Scott kept his word to keep it short. After a couple of his customary high-minded declarations, he warned that today’s event would have a distinctly Scottish flavor — evidenced by some bagpipers in Highland garb standing by to dramatize the guest speaker of the day, another of Walter’s friends, namely, Duncan MacInnes, royal chief of the Order of Scottish Clans. But other business came first.

Among the recent dead, Allen Hutchinson was mentioned. He is the sculptor who befriended Robert Louis Stevenson in Hawaii. His bust of Stevenson’s head, Honolulu, 1893, is the only piece of its kind done from life. The first of only three castings came to Baker’s to stay in 1926. Hutchinson came too, and was the guest speaker that year but he returned to England.

Much time was spent reading communications to the Stevenson Society from all points of the globe, with congratulations for their praiseworthy shrine project. Will Low sent his letter from Bronxville, New York, reminding everyone that 42 years had passed since his old friend had pushed his pen around at Baker’s “and that his memory and the charm of the writing that issued from Saranac has lost none of its appeal.”

During the year additions were made to the Saranac Lake collection of Stevensonia including three photos of models of Stevenson’s hand, made by Allen Hutchinson, while he was doing a job on the author’s head at Waikiki Beach. They were sent from Manchester, England, by Mr. Clarence H. Megson, who “has long been interested in our progress,” says the report. Scott gave away more from his own RLS collection, like a copy of “The Wrong Box,” the first of three books co-authored by Stevenson and his stepson, Lloyd Osbourne, written in Saranac Lake. It came with a letter in longhand attached by Osbourne; also, a first edition of “Memoir of Fleeming Jenkin,” Stevenson’s best biographical piece about a professor of engineering at Edinburgh University and one of only two men whom he would rank as mentors. The preface for this was written in Saranac Lake or as Scott put it, it “was written in this very house.”

The Colonel continued: “And last but not least, by far the finest relic of Stevenson that I possess will now be yours. It is a lock of hair cut from the head of Robert Louis Stevenson by his mother in 1854, and enclosed in a frame made of wood that was taken from the home of his parents in Swanston (Swanston Cottage — family summer getaway in the Pentland Hills). With it is a letter from Lord Guthrie, dated 6th April, 1910, in which he speaks of the lock of hair and the frame. In fact, there are two letters vouching for both hair and wood, together with a letter from Brentano’s giving their history, written to my daughter, Mrs. Edith Scott Magna, who presented this relic to me on December 22, 1924, and who I know will be happy that it has found a permanent home here at the Shrine.”

That is the story, the “provenance,” of one object in the assembly called the Maggie collection which is kept in “Maggie’s Room,” the former bedroom of Maggie for the winter of 1887-88. Maggie is Stevenson’s mother, Margaret, but everyone called her Maggie.

At this point, the program called for music which was provided by Livingston Chapman doing the singing accompanied by Mrs. Jay Stickney at the piano. They did renditions of Henley’s “Invictus” and Stevenson’s “Requiem” which is the epitaph on his South Seas tomb. L. Chapman was secretary for the Stevenson Society of America for many years. Correspondence to him is plentiful in the archives. He was apparently one of the best singers in the area at the time.

After the singing they had the election of officers, etc. No one was surprised when Scott was re-elected as president; however, something new came with the announcement of a new British representative, Sir Graham Balfour, cousin of RLS and his first biographer. Finally, it came time for the main event, the guest speaker, in this case MacInnes. Said Scott to his audience:

“A rich reward is yours in the person of the speaker on this occasion, a native-born Scot … There is no one with a more extensive knowledge of the ‘Land of the Heather’ and its people, and he is proud to tell of the sons she has given to the world. I am confident that regardless of your intimate acquaintance with the life and writings of R.L.S., when our speaker has concluded you will be in possession of a greater knowledge of this wonderful author and his ancestral environments …”

Unfortunately, somebody screwed up and the transcript of the royal chief’s speech was not available at the time the 1929 report went to press. Outsiders who wanted to know what Duncan said that day resorted to a newspaper report of the speech from the Adirondack Enterprise of Aug. 26, 1929.

When the guest speaker was finished, Scott presented him with the Society’s honorary membership medal. Some people might proclaim that the best thing that came out of the 1929 annual meeting, even better than the artifacts given by Scott was a letter from an ordinary member:

Chazy, New York

May 25, 1929

Mr. Livingston Chapman, Saranac Lake, N.Y.

“A perfectly delightful day at the Stevenson Cottage inspired me to write a few impressions in rhyme, which I am inclosing. Words almost fail any admirer of his, because the whole place is full of the spirit of the man. As an English teacher, I felt that my work on Stevenson will be more alive after such a visit. It was perfect!

“Very sincerely yours,

(Miss) Virginia Pearson.”

The poem is entitled “Stevenson’s Cottage,” and is given herewith:

“Today I stumbled on a little shrine

That hides itself within a

nest of hills;

A temple to a god of Youth divine,

Whose presence still that

tiny cottage fills;

The mantle-piece where

lighted cigarette

Burned blithely on, when genius

in him burned;

His velvet jacket stuck with

heather yet–

His noble head in faultless

bronze is turned.

Oh, how I’d like to be a child

again, And roam your garden

full of verses sweet;

Smell flowers again I loved in

childhood’s reign,

And high up in the air swing

frantic feet!

Or with my friend, Long

John the pirate bold,

I’d seek for treasure, and

I’d find it too

In song or story, loved by

young and old,

I’d walk the Road of Loving

Hearts with you!”