* BIG BLOW'S Sltrtcftris Of MumUts, ^c. WLtu^m SROM A 2r©wiEsr^:^i OR SKETCHES OF RAMBLES IN SOME PARTS OE NORTH BRITAIN AND IRELAND. CHIEFLY IN THE YEAR BY ANDREW BIGELOW. BOSTON : WELLS AND LILLY, COUBT-STREET. 1821. a«^ ^ttUtt. Ik oommitting the following papers to the press, the author deems it incumbent on him to state the circumstances which have led to their publication. Early in the autumn of 1819, he was desired by the Editor of a Southern Jour- nal to furnish some sketches of foreign travels for insertion in the miscellany of the work. Hasty delineations of the sce- nery, manners and incidents which fell under the writer's observation in the Bri- tish Kingdoms particularly, he was told would be acceptable ; and he was request- ed to subjoin such general remarks illus- trative of men and things, as might occur (o Sti^ A^ VI PREFACE. to him in transcribing any portions of his journal for publication. The author accordingly commenced the undertaking, willing to refresh his own re- collections, and to recreate his memory by the retrospect of the past. The publica- tion of the series had scarcely begun, when he was called to a distant part of the coun- try to labour in his profession, w^here for the ensuing eighteen months, the arduous- ness of his duties prevented him from prosecuting the plan only at irregular inter- vals, and at best, very imperfectly. The pieces forwarded therefore, with the excep- tion of the marginal remarks, were almost literal transcripts of sketches hastily noted in the author's travelling diary ; and owing to the distance to which they were sent, he was unable to rectify the accidental errours, — some of which were very mate- rial, — w^hich occurred in the printing. The sketches appeared in numbers, either in the Analectic Magazine, or, after the al- teration of the plan of that work, in the PREFACE. VII Philadelphia Literary Gazette, its succes- sor. Of those now given to the public, the Excursion from Edinburgh to Dublin, the Tour to Loch* Katrine and the Gram- pians, and the Journey to Melrose and Dryburgh Abbies, were first placed at the disposal of the Editor of those excellent Miscellanies. The others which follow were also prepared for insertion in them ; but circumstances precluded their being seasonably forwarded, and they have been hitherto withheld by the author. Of the Excursion to Dublin, large ex- tracts have been republished in several of the American Newspapers. Parts of it also appeared in a London Magazine ; and again, a fragment or two in the Boston Athena3um, — the last probably by mis- take, in the presumption that the sketches Avere of British origin. As some slight attention was accordingly drawn to the papers in their anonymous form; and as in the more extended extracts from them the errors of fact already adverted to, as well VIU PREFACE. as other inaccuracies were retained, the writer has bern induced to collect and publish them in a body, with th6 necessary corrections and a few additions. Little alteration has been made in the style ; and as much of the freshness of the original notes has been preserved as was consistent with perspicuity and exactness. Sketches of rapid incident cannot be supposed to abound much in detail ; and the author in making the following selections from his journal trusted their claims to attention chiefly on the intrinsic interest of the scenes, which he has attempted to deli- neate. He commits them to the candour of the reader, and will be happy, should they meet with indulgence, and serve to entertain some vacant hour. September, 1821. eotitewtfii. Excursion from Edinburgh to Dublin 1 Walk to Holyrood 179 Tour to Loch Katrine and the Grampians 197 A Day in Lorn 251 Visit to the Grave of Col. Gardiner.... 269 Pilgrimage to Melrose and Dryburgh Abbies.iM>i.ii>iii>i>Mi»i«i«« 289 isrtttt^ion sRoac M®1H®¥®©4KI T® DWJBMS* ^; FROM EDINBURGH TO DUBLIN GLASGOW, APRIL 11, 1817. ± HE clock of St. Giles' had tolled the hour of eight, when the stage-coach, in which I had taken a seat for Glasgow, rattled to the door. A few friends had assembled to witness my departure from Edinburgh, and to take a temporary leave. I was fortunate in having for a companion an intelligent and valued fellow-countryman, who had made an arrangement to travel with me to Dublin, whence, after a short stay, he was to embark for the south of England. On descending to the carriage, 1 was struck with the beauty and brilliancy of the morning. The air was mild and temperate ; the sky free from clouds ; and the sun, which had risen high, was pouring a broad light over the tops of the huge masses of houses in 1 2 EXCURSION FROM the old town, and displaying in all their gigantic prominence the grey walls and towers of its ancient castle. From the ramparts of the last a bugle was just sounding. I had often listened with delighted emotion to the effect of this music, in a morning or evening, from the windows of my lodgings, which were in the new town, and nearly opposite, and 1 would gladly have now paused to enjoy it, had I not remembered that the summons of a coach-guard was urgent and imperative. I soon took my seat, and the deafening tones of the horn which he immediate- ly commenced blowing, as the coach drove rapidly along Prince's street, quickly drowned every finer feeling which the inspiring note of the bugle was just awakening. We left Edinburgh by St. Cuthbert's : the road soon passing between the Gorstorphine hills on the right, and further on, the Pentlands on the left. Our route to Glasgow lay through Midcalder and Whitburn. The country during the latter part of the way was far from being inviting : in a few places indeed it was rather dreary. The Lothians however, round Edinburgh, are very fertile districts, and under high cultivation. The Lothian farmers are inferior to none in Great Britain. Three miles from Edin- burgh the freestone walls by the sides of the way ceased, and hedge-rows commenced. The hawthorn, in many spots, was quite verdant for the season ; in some, almost in full leaf Gooseberries were still more forward. The peasantry were busily employed EDINBURGH TO DUBLIN. in the fields, either ploughing, or otherwise prepar- ing them for planting. Corn, or rather grain, they finished sowing, in this part of Scotland, ten days or a fortnight ago. Many of their lands were thrown up into long narrow ridges or swells. These make a good appearance, and are a proper precaution in a humid chmate to admit the passage of rain along the intervening furrows. We noticed some women en- gaged in the open fields in various hardy occupations, and thought that they managed the implements of husbandry quite as well as the men. The latter wore generally a large blue woollen cap, flattened upon the head, and slouched over the eyes. This was the lowland bonnet, and a very unbecoming one it is. The cottages were chiefly thatched for the first half of the way, after which tiled roofs made their appearance, and increased in number as we approached Glasgow. Five or six miles from that city a stream was descried at some distance on the left, apparently about twenty or thirty yards wide. ' Is that the Clyde ?' inquired 1 of a fellow passenger. He replied that it was ; and I looked again, but was still disappointed. It appeared a pretty, and on the whole, a respectable stream, compared with some other Scotch rivers, but nothing better. The Clyde accompanied us but a little way, when it took another direction and disappeared. The entrance into Glasgow by the Gallowgate, is far from being tine. We passed a number of manu- facturing establishments ; — indeed I should have 4 EXCURSION FROM known at once that 1 was approaching a manufactur- ing town, from the towering conical chimnies, the smoke, and other famiUar accompaniments. — Trongate-street looked very well ; we drove through it, and, entering Argyle-street, were soon set down at the door of an inn where half a dozen waiters and porters stood ready to assist us in alighting, and in getting our luggage from the coach. But we had no disposition to stop there, and accordingly sent our portmanteaus to the Buck's Head, an inn which had been recommended to us as preferable. We arrived too late to present letters, or make calls, but have taken an hasty walk through some of the principal streets. It is now 4, P. M. I have been writing with as much rapidity as my pen can move over the paper. Dinner is in readiness, and I must desist from the double motive of dearth of matter and the desire of attending to the call of the former. One difference which I perceive between this city and Edinburgh, is the hour of dining, which here is four, and at Edinburgh five. April 12th. — My companion, who had been in this city before, was walking out last evening after din- ner, when he accidentally met Mr. B. one of his Glasgow friends, and to whose family I was the bearer of an introductory letter. The gentleman returned with him to our lodgings, and gave a cordial invitation to tea, which we had no reluctance in accepting. My letter was presented to the family, and engaged every attention which the EDINBURGH TO DUBLIN. ^ distinguished character of the lady from whom I had received it had authorized me to anticipate. My new friends I found highly agreeable ; two or three of their city acquaintance called in accidentally, and the evening glided imperceptibly away in animated conversation, till a late hour. To-day we have been engaged in presenting letters, all of which have been duly honoured, and in inspecting a few of the objects most worthy of attention in this great city. We were taken to the Tontine reading room, which we found well sup- plied with newspapers, and other periodical publi- cations. The annual subscription, (thirty-five shil- lings sterling,) was thought large. Letters which we brought to the Professors of Natural History and of Humanity in the University, gave us an opportunity of visiting very satisfactorily the interior of that seat of science. A part of our observations, however, we were obliged to defer till another day. The college buildings form two large quadrangles with spacious areas. The side towards the street through which is the main entrance, is extensive, but has a very heavy and gloomy appearance. The larger hall of the library is a fine specimen of the Ionic. The whole number of volumes is estimated at twenty-five thousand, among which are many that are highly prized. A beautiful MS. copy of the Vulgate, brilliantly illuminated, was shown. Although executed more than five centuries ago, it retains its colourings unimpaired. Several paintings, however^ 1 * 6 EXCURSION FROM at the commencement of the Book of Genesis, — though they illustrate the quaintness and spirit of the times, — might have been spared, without fear of offending a fastidious eye. One, which could not easily be forgotten, represents mother Eve just springing from the side of Adam, and standing with unblushing indifference •• in puris naturalibus.' We saw also the autograph of the famous doggerel version of the Bible, by the eccentric Zachary Boyd. This singular man left a large property to the college on condition that they should publish his work. They complied with the condition, I under- stand, only so far as to print a part of the manu- script, which was a portion of the Psalms, if I Temember correctly, but so managed as to secure the donation entire. Boyd is represented to have been exemplary in his private character ; and withal, shrewd and clever. The manuscript is very indis- tinct ; to me almost illegible. Professor M. who had often consulted it, read several choice extracts which were very ludicrous. I cannot remember them all, nor should I repeat them here if I did.* * To illustrate, however, the poetic character of the production and display the merits of this ' sweel smger,'' I here subjoin a few lines, which, with some other specimens, were actually seen. They are extracted from Jonah's comforting soliloquy in the whale's belly. * What house is this ? — Here's neither coal nor candle ; And nought but garbled fish alone I handle. I and my table are both here within. Where day ne'er dawn'd, where sun did never shine. EDINBURGH TO DUBLIN. 7 From the library we were conducted into the ' Fore Hall,' a large room in which we found all the recent English publications. The University of Glasgow, in common with those of Edinburgh, St. Andrews, and Aberdeen, and the Advocates' library also at Edinburgh, enjoys a title to a copy of every work which is entered at Stationers' Hall. This is the share of a common privilege, secured by act of parliament to several other learned institutions in Great Britain, which goes to Scotland^ and a pretty large one it is too, amounting, if I mistake not, to live-elevenths of the whole grant. This receiving- room at Glasgow may therefore be considered as a kind of librometer^ showing the number of new books annually entered at Stationers' Hall, and affording data whence to calculate the whole amount issued from the press. It is found that the Scottish pro- ductions which come to hand, average about thirty a month : — and the whole number annually publish- ed in North Britain may be estimated at five hun- dred. There are a few good paintings in this Hall, among which is a highly finished portrait of the Not so was Noah in his house of tree, For tlirough a window he the light did see. He sail'd above the Irighest waves : a wonder, I and my boat are all the waters under ! He and his ark might go and also come ; But I sit still in such a straitened room As is most uncouth ; — head and feet togetiier, Among such grease as would a thousand smoLhor.' EXCURSION FROM present earl of Buchan, taken when lord Cardross, and precisely similar to one which ornaments the breakfast-room in his lordship's town-house in Edin- burgh. In the course of the forenoon we walked upon the green meadows along Clydesdale, a little remov- ed from the busy stir of the city, and admired the noble monument erected to the memory of Nelson. It is an obelisk one hundred and thirty feet in height finely proportioned, and it reflects great honour upon the taste and munificence of the people of Glasgow. It would be a beautiful work but for a disaster which has somewhat disfigured its appear- ance. A year or two after its erection, which was about 1808, the top was struck with lightning, and was much fractured. A large fissure was cleft be- tween the stones. Several of them weighing from five hundred to one thousand pounds were protrud- ed so far out as to seem in momentary danger of being precipitated below, although none even to this day have been entirely dislodged. A clumsy wooden fence surrounds the base of this column, which the inhabitants of Glasgow would long ere this have superseded by a suitable iron balustrade but for the expectation of the speedy fall of the impend- ing masses of stone from above. The rent is visi- bly widening each year by the action of frost and other natural causes, and is giving dreadful presage of an approaching final disruption. And yet we saw the poorer classes of females, for whose accommo- EDINBURGH TO DUBLIN. 9 ' dation a large and commodious wash-house "has been erected in this vicinity, unconcernedly employed within a few yards of the monument, and in one or two instances, spreading their clothes for drying within a few yards of its base. At the hour of dining we went to ' North Wood- side,' a delightful country residence about two miles from Glasgow, the property of an opulent merchant. It is situated upon the Kelvin, a tributary stream of the Clyde, and, together with its grounds, exhibits striking evidences of the elegant but costly taste of its proprietor. The gentleman* had been in Ame- rica, and was not a little attached to its form of go- vernment, — a partiality which naturally extended itself to the individuals concerned in its administra- tion ; and accordingly we were gratified with be- holding the portraits of several of our most distin- guished countrymen adorning the walls of his apartments. The afternoon passed highly to our satisfaction ; and we would gladly have accepted an invitation, which was given with a sincerity which could not be mistakan, to protract our visit beyond the day, but for engagements which required our return to Glasgow. After coffee we left North- Wood-side, and reached the city in season to sup with the Rev. Dr. Chalmers. • * The writer of these notices has since had the satisfaction to receive this gentleman under his paternal roof: — a fortunate circumstance having once more brought him to America. 10 EXCURSION FROM It had been my good fortune to meet, and become partially acquainted with this extraordinary man in Edinburgh. He had politely invited me to visit him in Glasgow, and this morning I called at his house and passed an half hour with him. I found him then much engaged in completing some preparations for a journey to London which he is to commence on Monday. He desired my company at supper in the evening, and extended the invitation to my compan- ion. We found a few friends at his house, among whom were several ladies. Mrs. C. possesses a pleasing person, and engaging manners, and per- formed the honours of the table with great proprie- ty. Dr. C. had finished the necessary arrangements for his journe}'^, and entered freely into an animated and instructive conversation. His colloquial powers are of an high order. Even in familiar conversa- tion he is impressive and striking ; although he seems not to be ambitious of display, er the distinc- tion of taking a lead. — He is at home upon most of the popular topics of the day. In discussing any of interest, he engages ' ioim in illis? His thoughts in that case are rapid, and his remarks, — assuming the complexion of his fervid mind, — abound in glow- ing, but easy illustrations. He spoke very feehngly upon the subject of the English poor laws, and the alarming increase of mendicity in Scotland. As an instance of the unnatural state of things in Glasgow itself, he referred to the sum of 14,000/. sterling which in less than a month had been raised by sub- EDmBURGH TO DUBLIN. 11 3cription in this single city, for the relief of the poorer classes. To the honour however of the wealthy population of Glasgow, it should be added, that the monies thus contributed, have been more than enough, with other private benefactions, to supply the present need ; and the surplusage has been funded to meet some future, and I hope, very distant exigency. Conversation at table turned upon that dark and malignant spirit of infidelity, which under various forms, seems insidiously stealing like a pestilence through society. Dr. C.'s remarks upon this sub- ject were very eloquent, both in commenting upon the different masks which it assumes, and the co- verts wherein it lurks, and in suggesting some seem- ingly effectual checks to the prevalence of this tre- mendous eviL The inquiries of Dr. C. relative to America, as well now as during a former interview, indicated no small degree of attention which he has paid to its civil and religious institutions. He spoke in terms of great commendation of the writings of the late Jonathan Edwards, and pronounced them to be among the ablest in English theology. In meta- physics, he considers Edwards to have equalled the deepest thinkers of the age. The supper at Dr. C.'s was liberally and tastefully provided. Immediately after its removal, and before the wine was placed upon the table, the service of evening devotion was introduced. It was simple but engaging ; consisting of a portion of scripture which n EXCURSION FROM was read with great solemnity, and a prayer, during which all the company kneeled, as is usual in family devotions throughout this country. The servants were present. It was nearly twelve o'clock when we took leave of Dr. C. A very friendly request which he made that I would visit him hereafter in Glasgow, I fear that I shall never have it in my pow- er to comply with. Glasgow, 14th April. — Yesterday I had the satisfac- tion to hear Dr. Chalmers once more preach. It was generally understood that it would be the last time that he would officiate in Glasgow for two or three months, and the crowds which assembled to hear him were very great. He was absent from his own pulpit, by exchange, in the morning, which did not prevent, however, many from following him to the church where he preached. The Tron, in the af- ternoon, was overflowing some time before the hour of service, and the rush of people to the doors was as great as I have seen at Covent Garden, when John Kemble was to play. I repaired early to the church with some ladies, and we were fortunate in procuring excellent seats. Dr. C. fully equalled my expectations, although I have heard him in Edinburgh produce a superior effect. The eloquence of this great man is very vehement and impassioned. The . effect which he produces in preaching, does not con- sist in approaching his point by any artful and covert process of reasoning and illustration, but by openly marching up and confronting it with unhesitating and EDINBURGH TO DUBLIN. 13 manly intrepidity. Whatever faults may be detected in Dr. C.-s style by the cool eye of fastidious criticism, from the profusion of his ornaments, the overstraining of his metaphors, the redundancy of his expressions, — perhaps there is no person living who, when once seen and heard, would be pronounced more free than he from the petty or laboured artifices which are generally employed to recommend opinion and enforce instruction. So regardless is he of the fac- titious aids of composition, that his style may often be considered negligent, and sometimes even coarse. This again may be regarded by hyper-critics as a species of affectation ; a contrary and, I believe, a juster inference may be drawn from the fact. Dr. C. unconsciously overlooks, while he is thought studi- ously to disdain, the more common trappings and gildings of composition. In preaching he seems wholly absorbed in his subhme occupation, and to be irresistibly borne along by the grandeur of his theme. As a man, he appears to sink under a pros- trating sense of his own personal nothingness, bu as a herald of the christian faith, he rises to the ma- jesty of more than mortal elevation. In discussing the great truths of Revelation, his imagination, it is true, kindles; and strange it would be if it did not. The fire which is elicited is the natural effect of the rapid motion of his thoughts, combined with the fervours of his ardent piety. His single services yesterday were enough to prove him the first prea- cher of his age. In each of his discourses there are 2 14 EXCURSION FROiM some parts which are particularly impassioned, and at such moments he hurries onward, as with the ex- citement of inspiration, and produces an effect which Whitefield could not have surpassed. At these times, too, the listening audience may be seen bending for- ward, as if with breathless interest, to catch each word as it falls from his lips ; and, on his arriving at the conclusion of the particular train of sentiment, again arousing as from the spell of a dream to the reality of conscious existence. This is not fancy, or, if it be, it is one which I am not singular in possess- ing. Dr. C. at least produces the effect of awaken- ing susceptibilities in the most obdurate bosoms. I was present one evening when he was preaching in lady Glenorchy's chapel in Edinburgh, and occupi- ed a seat next to Spurzheim, the celebrated cranio- logist. I noticed that he was deeply engaged by the the preacher. On his finishing, I inquired what he thought of him ? ' It is too much, too much,' said he, passing his hand across his forehead, ' my brain is on a fever by what 1 have been hearing ;' — a striking declaration from a cold and phlegmatic German. Dr. C. seems to act and feel as one, who, possess- ed of great intellectual endowments, is conscious that he owes them all to the service of religion. His aim apparently is, to ' bring every thought into cap- tivity to the truth of Christ,' and to ' cast down each lofty imagination,' at the foot of the cross. To add to the weight of his discourses, he is accustomed to call into requisition the abounding stores of his va^ EDINBURGH TO DUBLIX. 15 rious knowledge. In delivering his sermons he usually begins in a low, but always a distinct tone of voice ; and proceeds for some time with a calm and uniform utterance. As his subject is developed, his mind and feelings gradually expand and his voice is insensibly raised. His manner at first is not prepos- sessing ; nor indeed is his voice to an English car, a« it has much of the Fifeshire accent. The hearer, however, soon loses whatever is disagreeable in each; and even forgets the man while listening to the message of the preacher. Dr. C. appears turn- ed of thirty-eight, in his person he is tall, and rather slender ; his hair and complexion incline to dark ; his eye is a blue tending to grey, and is distinguish- ed at first only by a certain heaviness in its expres- sion. It beams however in conversation, and flashes in public discourse. Some facts in the history of this extraordinary man, are peculiar. For the first few years of his ministry he was settled in Kilmanny, an inconsidera- ble parish in the county of Fife. While there he was generally accounted a man of talents, but rather indifferent to the duties of his profession, fond of so- cial and gay company, proud of his intellectual pow- ers and no less so of his acquirements, and careless of the construction which the more serious part of the community might put upon his principles and sentiments. If I am correctly informed, he occa- sionally gave lectures in natural philosophy to the university of St. Andrews, and was considered as be- 16 EXCURSION FROM longing to the moderate party in the kirk. Dr. Brewster apphed to him to write the article Chris- tianity^ in his Encyclopedia ; and it is said, that the train of thought into which his investigation led him, terminated in convictions which had the effect of changing his whole course of .life and sentiments ; and from that moment, entering into the ranks of orthodoxy^ he became an eminent and powerful cham- pion of the faith. His essay has since been pub- lished in a separate form, and entitled the ' Eviden- ces of Christianity.' Shortly after this remarkable change, his reputation rose with astonishing rapid- ity ; his zeal in the service of religion became inex- tinguishable ; and if the excellence of a preacher is to be estimated by his popularity, Dr. C. is decidedly the first in Great Britain. This gentleman was transferred to Glasgow two or three years ago. His parish is very large, con- sisting, as he told me, of nearly ten thousand souls. So great a number imposes duties upon him peculiar- ly heavy ; nor does his constitution seem capable of sustaining his fatigues. In delivering his discourses from the pulpit, which generally occupy an hour, it is usual with him to stop about midway, and read a hymn of six or eight verses, to be sung by the au- dience, while an opportunity is given him to recover from the partial exhaustion occasioned by his vehe- ment oratory. The people in Edinburgh are desi- rous of erecting a church for him, and to request him to settle among them ; but an obstacle is found in EDINBURGH TO DUBLIN. ' 17 the jealousy of the inhabitants of Glasgow, who look with no small uneasiness upon every thing which tends to aggrandize the reputation of Ediu- burgh.* To day we resumed our inspection of Glasgow. We commenced with visiting the Lunatic Asylum, a noble institution. The buildings are spacious and highly commodious ; the regulations within them ex- cellent. Apartments, suppUed w^ith suitable accom- modations, are rented according to their respec- tive eligibility, at various prices from eight shil- lings to a guinea and an half a week. Ninety-six patients are at present in the asylum. One or two we noticed in the grounds with straight jackets. We walked among them in a large court adjoining the buildings, although, as the keeper said, it was at the risk of personal exposure. The patients were walking to and fro, most of them without noticing us, or each other. Many of them had a very mel- ancholy appearance, and several a terribly wild look. We were surveyed attentively by one for some time, who at length came up and timidly ask- ed, ' do either of you gentlemen take snuff V A Scotch question, thought I, while I sincerely regret- ted that I did not possess a box which I might have given to him with its contents. * Since the above was written, Dr. C. has been presented to the church of St. Johns, a new and elegant erection in Glas- gov:-. o # 1^ EXCURSION FROM We proceeded next to the Cathedral, a fine mas- sive Gothic structure. Its architecture is heavy, but is distinguished by an air of solemn and severe majesty. It presents many evidences of great anti- quity ; and is surrounded by a church-yard, where the passenger may read in the simple inscriptions of many a long forgotten name, a more impressive les- son of human frailty, than could be inculcated by the most laboured homily. One of these sepulchral records, found upon a monument within the Cathe- dral, which I copied with a pencil upon the spot, I here transcribe as curious for its antique orthogra- phy, and its promiscuous notice of the ravages of death in a single family. ' Heir ar bureit S^ Wal- tier, S^ Thomas, S>^ Jhonie, S^' Robert, S»* Jhonie, and S^' Mathieu, by lineal descent to utheris Barons and Knichis of the Hous of Mynto, with their vyffis, bairnis and bretherein.' Having inspected every thing worthy of atten- tion in the cathedral, its subterranities, Laigh Kirk^ and relics, we left it to visit once more the univer- sity. On our way there we deviated to see the house where the famous Lord Darnley resided. Nothing is observable about it at present, excepting that from being a lordly residence, it is converted into shops of millinery and small wares. We met professor W. by appointment at the university, and were leisurely conducted by him through Hunter's museum. Its collections are rich and extensive ; but to attempt an enumeration of what many have already describ- EDINBURGH TO DUBLIN. 19 ed would be an idle and profitless employment. It is sufficient to say that we saw what thousands of visitors have seen before, and paid the tribute of our humble applause to the liberal taste and perse- vering enterprise of its late collector and donor. Several Roman inscriptions upon tablets lately dug from Graham's dyke were shown ; also, altars, va- ses, and other antiquities found in different parts of Scotland. Our attention was directed to two origi- nal letters of Washington and Franklin deposited open in a glass case. The subjects of each are un- important, that of the former, particularly, 1 wished not quite so trivial. It relates to the purchase of some gold-lace for a military coat, and is dated 1799. The anatomical preparations connected with the museum are very valuable ; among them are many monstrous specimens, Lusus naturce, and untimely births. Adjacent to the university, is a spacious green inclosed for the walks and recreations of the students. The latter are distinguished in term time by an uncouth cloak of red cloth reaching below the knees ; an attire which in its best estate comports little with academic gravity ; and as worn by many of the students, these garments appear ludicrous enough. What remains of their original colour is traversed and intermixed with various stains, which gives them an appearance singularly fantastic. It is well if the spectator does not detect in them rents worn by the elements and hard usage. They seem like so many untrimmed cloaks of cavalry privates, 20 EXCURSION FKOISI which, after performing a fair term of service in camp, and subsequently undergoing a suitable qua- rantine in a pawn-broker's shop, have been bought up for these sons of science, to descend as heir-looms from one academic generation to another. A troop of these students might be easily mistaken for a part of the grotesque 4rain of king Lear. In the course of the day we visited Cameron, Thompson and Co.'s steam-loom manufactory. Each important part of its process from clearing the raw wool to the completion of the cloth, is conducted by the agency of steam. The power of the engine is fifty horses. The establishment cost forty thousand pounds sterling, and gives employment to four hun- dred hands. We dined with a pleasant party at Mrs. B.'s. Dr. G., a lecturer on Botany, was present. He conversed much concerning a projected botanical garden in the vicinity of the city. A delegation had been abroad in the neighbourhood in the morning to report on a proper site. Eight stations had been examined, among which the choice was to be deter- mined between two or three. The shares to sub- scribers are rated at ten guineas, and the amount of funds necessary for the completion of the garden is computed at six or seven thousand pounds. The inhabitants of Glasgow, as far as our obser- vatioii has extended, are remarkably frank and sociable. In hospitality, they yield not to the citi- zens of the ' Gude Town.' Two or three of their EDINBURGH TO DUBLIN. 21 customs are peculiar. One is, to have a punch- bowl, graduated in size according to the numbers of the company present, placed upon the table after the first service of wine, to allow the guests an opportunity of resorting at pleasure to a more stimulating liquid. The beverage with which it is generously supplied, is usually hot, and is prepared by the presiding gentleman. From this capacious receiver the foot-glasses of the several guests are successively filled, till they themselves become comfortably furnished. It is proper to mention, that this liquor is not commonly produced till after the ladies have retired. Dram-drinking at dinner is getting out of vogue in this country. In the more respectable famihes of Edinburgh it is seldom prac- tised. When met with, it usually follows the pastry. A single flask of whiskey is then passed round the board to each individual of the company, and a small portion is drank undiluted. Often the same wine- glass circulates with it, and by the time of completing the circuit, if the company be numerous, presents, as might be expected, a very inviting brim to a delicate lip. Port-wine, made into a mixture with hot water and sugar, and thence termed negus^ is a very common drink after dinners and suppers. A larger and smaller glass are placed before each guest, and the gentlemen are expected to provide for themselves and the ladies next to them, if they are so fortunate as to be placed by the side of any. 22 EXCURSION FROM A silver ladle is used to decant the liquor from one glass to another. Glasgow, April Ibth. — This morning I visited Willovi^-Bank, famous for its great milk-estabhsh- ment. A large portion of the population of Glasgow receive supplies from it. There are one hundred and eighty cows, which are kept in two great cover- ed areas, in rows fronting each other. Women as well as men are employed in the care of them, and one hand is deemed suflicient for ten cows. A steam-engine of four-horse power is connected with the establishment, by which the surplus milk is churned, the hay chopped, and the oats are thresh- ed J and much manual labour is thereby saved. At Willow-Bank, are also some fine hot, cold, and shower baths, which are much used by the inhabi- tants of Glasgow, Prices of bathing vary from one to three shillings sterling. At half past three P. M. I mounted a horse, and, in company with three other gentlemen rode to Jordan Hill, the elegant seat of Mr. S., six miles distant from the city. We left Glasgow by the Barony, proceeding along the Dumbarton road, and the beautiful windings of Clydesdale. Vegetation, I noticed, had sensibly advanced within three or four days, the larches now appearing almost in full ver- dure. Leaving the main road and passing the lodge into the pleasure grounds of Jordan Hill, we crossed a rivulet which was mentioned as the dividing line between the counties of Renfrew and Lanark ; the EDIJsBURGH TO DUBLIN. 23 mansion-house being in Renfrew, and the lodge in Lanark. Mr. S. is a gentleman of great wealth, which he is reported to employ as a good almoner. He is held in high estimation, and is distinguished for his courteousness as well as philanthropy. Mrs. S. is a lady of pleasing appearance, a finely culti- vated mind, and an engaging frankness of manners. She is sister to Mrs. B., the initial of whose name has already occurred. These two ladies, independently of other attrac- tions, have a peculiar interest attached to them from the circumstance of their early and intimate con- nexion with the lady whose 'Letters from the Mountains,' have circulated extensively on either side of the Atlantic, and gnined for the author a distinguished reputation. The first in that series is addressed to Mrs. S., under her former name of E**** . anj jjj^jjy Q^ ^j^g ^^g^ beautiful which follow in the collection are returns for others sent, either from herself or Mrs. B. The ' Letters' themselves have obtained general suffrage as models, in their kind, of epistolary composition : and, notwithstanding the sneering opinion long since advanced by Pope, incontestably evince that the human heart is capable of unveiling to the inspection of a friend its inmost recesses, through the medium of written correspon- dence. The poet, it is well known, notwithstanding his intimate converse with men and manners, and his fancied thorough knowledge of the bias of motives and the workings of feeling, laboured through life 24 EXCURSION FROM under inveterate prejudices in regard to his fellow men, and from a certain suspiciousness inseparable from his constitution, was accustomed to contemplate human nature with a mahgnant and jaundiced eye. Well versed in the arts of deception, and sensible of the sophistry which he often practised upon himself, and still oftener upon others, he considered all man- kind as being more or less adepts like himself in this science of petty self-knavery, and supposed them, even at those moments when they might be expect- ed to impart an unreserved confidence, rather seek- ing disguises by which to cloak their real sentiments, or to escape direct avowals of them. In his estimate of character, Pope was too apt to follow the maxim of the Roman poet, ' Homo sum^ et nihil humani a me alienum puto f and it would have been well if the mistake adverted to had been the only error of judgment into which he was drawn by his servile adoption of that illiberal sentiment. The many letters which he received from Swift alone, are an ample refutation of his assertion that an epistolary correspondence is an unsafe conductor of real and unsophisticated thought and feeling. To these might be added others from Atterbury and Arbuthnot ; whereas Pope's in reply abound, too often, in pointed conceits and studied elegancies. They want that easy flexibiUty indispensable to the perfection of this species of composition, and seem rather copies of the formal and stately epistles of Voiture, than o-enuine and undisguised effusions of the breast. EDINBURGH TO DUBLIN. 25 If art of any kind be requisite in letter-writing, it is the ' ars celandi^"^ the art of concealing its applica- tion. By a neglect of this, the letters of Pope are any thing but what they should be ; — as Essays^ they may be considered pleasing and beautiful, but as communications of friendship, they are a medley of dissimulation and pedantry. But to return from this digression to the lady whose ' Letters' gave rise unconsciousl}'^ lo these remarks. We perceive in her correspondence no disguise ; her expressions of feeling seem what they are, the breathmgs of an exuberant but delicate sensibility We feel that we are treated with a degree of respect ; that we are admitted to some share of personal and equal con- verse ; and that we are considered, if not full-grown, as at least to have passed that term of pupilage when the rattle is supposed to charm, and the sweet- meat frostings of a sickening sentiment to please. They admit us to an intimate communion with the wTiter's own vigorous and prolific mind, and whether they detail to us descriptions of scenery, delineations of character, or narrations of fact, we are conscious of perusing the remarks of one who knew well how to blend with the genuine impressions of a discrimi- nating judgment, and the associated suggestions of memory, the elegant embelli?hments of a vivid but chastised imagination. There is, it is true, a certain romantic interest connected with the scenes and characters which the writer describes ; but this results not from any apparent overcolouring on her 3 26 EXCURSION FROM part, but from the knowledge which we insensibly gain of the numerous incidents of her chequered and eventful life. We have no apprehensions lest the friends whom she introduces to us should be found, on a nearer approach, to owe much of their recommendation to the amiable but mistaken partial- ities of friendship. We receive them as she pre- sents them to us, without any internal misgivings ; and are convinced that the individuals whom she ^elected as the associates of her earlier years, and who have proved in later life her faithful bosom repositories, are entitled to all estimation and regard. 1 have been led, unintentionally, into a lengthened train of comment, when my object on commencing' the paragraph, was simply to sketch the few inci- dents ol the afternoon's excursion. I wdll therefore only add, that, though of Mrs. S. I cannot be supposed personally to know much, or of Mrs. B. much more, yet that much has no ways disappointed the opinion I had formed of the many excellencies in the cha- racters of either, through the pleasing and interest- ing intimations of Mrs. Grant of Laggan. At the dinner table of Jordan Hill, much was asked and said concerning America. I could not but be gratified on hearing many high encomiums passed upon my country, and particularly upon the character of the New-Englanders. Such favourable declarations are ever grateful to the foreigner, and he would fain receive them with emotions wholly abstracted from every undue local bias. EDINBURGH TO DUBLIN. 27 After dining, and previously to repairing to the drawing-room, I was conducted over the grounds. { found them laid out with much taste, and diversified with several beautiful groupings and plantations of wood. Thej yield two or three very good points of view, from which may be discerned Dumbarton castle, the mouldering walls of Crookstone, the distant turrets of Bothwell, and the busy town of Paisley ; which last, however, is chiefly determined by its smoke. The Campsie Hills, or rather Fells^ as they are termed, are prominent objects in the scene. At 9, we left the hospitable mansion of Jordan Hill, and returned to Glasgow. A threatening shower afforded a motive for testing the speed of our horses ; but another, and a more powerful one with my friend and myself, was an engagement to meet at supper, a family which had paid us repeated civilities, and of which we were to take leave previously to our final departure from the city on the following morning. Two of the family we had known in Edinburgh, and were happy in reviving the acquaintance on our visit here. The evening was enlivened with excel- lent music. The elder of the young ladies, a very skilful performer, touched the keys of the piano with uncommon taste and execution, and accompanied some of the finest of the Scottish songs with her rich and melodious voice. Nor were our country's airs forgotten. Washington's March and Yankee Doodle were played ; and it need not be said that thoy lo^t 28 EXCURSION FROM nothing in our associations, by being struck by the graceful hand of one of Caledonia's blooming and blushing fair. As my friend was taking a final leave of this country, and my own arrangements required my returning to Scotland, much was kindly said to me by this excellent family, to induce a promise that I would either join them in a comtemplated journey to Inverary and the West Highlands, after a few weeks, or visit them in a country retirement in Lanark sometime in the summer. ' You will do so,' said one on our taking leave ; ' You must,'' said another ; — ' Heaven willing,' replied I, but I left them with the painful impression that we were never more to meet. AYR, APRIL 16, 12 P. M. We had taken seats last night in the coach for this place, which was to leave Glasgow early this morn- ing ; but on rising, just in season for our departure, an accident, somewhat humorous, though vexatious, interposed unexpectedly an obstacle. It was one of those mistakes which result from the inattention and negligence of others, and remind me of the common-sense maxim of Dr. Franklin. — ' If you want any thing done, go yourself; if you do not, send ;'— a principle which, though rather safer of ap- plication in my own country, will serve very well, if occasionally remembered, in this. As it was deemed expedient that either my companion or my- self should proceed forthwith to Ayr, in order to se- £DINBURGH TO DUBLIN. 29 cure seats in the public coach for Port Patrick, on the following day, and that the other should continue behind to correct the mistake, and complete some desired arrangements ; a turn of king George's head decided the question of remaining, in favour of my- self; and it was determined accordingly, that 1 should follow in the afternoon's coach, I did not re- gret the detention, as it gave me an opportunity of seeing a few objects in Glasgow, which I had pre- viously neglected. Several of my friends, learning my delay, called to proffer the hospitalities of their respective families ; but these I declined accepting, as I was unwilling to repeat leave-takings. They attended me, however, to the Roman Catholiv- Church, a recent Gothic structure of some merit , to some singeing machines, so called, where the finest gauze is prepared, and receives its finish by being drawn over a red-hot cylinder of iron ; to an ingenious mechanical apparatus, driven by a stean? engine, where linen cloths are passed through all the stages of dressing, from a state of prime rough- ness to final packing ; — (and the whole for the moderate average price of nine shillings sterling per parcel of 24 yards,) and to the lecture room of Dr. * * * *, a gentleman much skilled in chemis try, who politely exhibited his apparatus, and per- tbrmed several curious and entertaining experiments with gas. At 4 P. M. I entered the Telegraph coach for Ayr, with feelings impressed with the many and 30 EXCURSION FROM unremitting attentions which I had received since the evening of my arrival in Glasgow. The coach drove from the city in a cloud of dust, — an unusual annoyance in my own country at this season of the year. My route to tliis place was by Kingswell, Fenwick, Kilmarnock, and Monkton. Five miles after leaving Glasgow, I looked backed for a glimpse of Ben Lomond. A gentleman had men- tioned with great exactness, the spot where, if the air should prove clear, it might be seen ; and had apprised me of several circumstances by which to determine its appearance. Beyond the Campsie Fells, I discerned a towering conical height, streak- ed with snow, and partially veiled in mist, which I was willing to distinguish as the mountain describ- ed. For the first few miles, the country was fertile and productive ; beyond that, a dreary extensive tract succeeded, clothed with scanty verdure, and scarcely enlivened by the smoke of a single cabin ; after which, the country again improved, and con- tinued to do so as the road approached Ayr. Kil- marnock is a town famous for its weavers. There is an iron railway, the most extensive of the kind in North Britain, which has been constructed from that place to the harbour of Troon, solely at the expense of the duke of Portland. The town has had a more than common notoriety of late, from having given birth to several seditious meetings, which occasioned the arrest of two or three of th^ EDINBURGH TO DUBLIN. 31 more suspected agents ; whose itrial, within a few days, has excited a strong sensation in the metro- polis, and resulted in their acquittal. On the way. I saw three or four half ruinous, castellated piles of building, but none of them worthy of remark. It was twilight when I entered Ayr, — a pretty, though irregular town. I recognized the two bridges, familiarly called the ' Brigs of Ayr,' span- ning the limpid waters of its interesting stream. My feelings and recollections, on approaching the town, were filled with Burns. — I found my friend impatiently awaiting my arrival. We were soon seated at a supper, which he had ordered to be in readiness ; and the remainder of the evening passed in various and enlivening conversation. PORT PATRICK, APRIL 17. We left Ayr at 7 this morning, in the pub- lic coach, drawn by two horses, — a proof that we were no longer in a great traveUing track. The vehicle had taken the name of Diligence ; a word, which every day's use along the road, has contracted into the more convenient term Dilly. A second view of Ayr, in the broader light of day, confirmed, in some degree, the im- pression which I had received of its prettiness : but, owing to its partial irregularity, and a few ill con- structed houses, on the whole 1 think it strikes best when seen at a distance, and forming a part of the landscape. It makes then a very good appearance. The town of Ayr contains 5,000 inhabitants, and 32 EXCURSION FROx\i has improved much within a few years. Lately a theatre has been opened in it, which allows forty pounds for the full regular receipts of a night. It is probably the smallest town north of the Ouse, which is provided with such a luxurious append- age ; and this does not speak so favourably of the sober, staid habits of the people, as might be wish- ed. The morning proved uncommonly serene ; the air was mild, and the ra}^* of the sun, which shone with great splendor, were finely reflected from the peaceful bosom of the Ayr, and the still bonnier waters of the river Doon. The aspect of the country for many miles, was exceedingly lovely. There was more of woodland than I anticipated ; and, besides frequent and detached groups of trees, there were several extensive tracts which were beautifully covered. The peasantry, on our leaving Ayr, were seen actively at work ; the birds were carroUing their matin hymns, and the breeze, as it brushed over the landscape, was barely sufficient to curl the smoke which ascended from the few cabins that peeped from their shelters of coppice, emulous to form a part in the delightful scene. Two miles from the town, we came to the hut Tvere Burns was born. It is a low thatched building of a single story, forming the corner, and connected by the same roof with, two or three others of a similar size. A trifling bribe prevailed on the dri- ver of the Dilly to stop, while my companion and myself examined the interior of this humble dweV EDINBURGH TO DUBLIN. 33 ling. A sign is affixed to the walls without, which bears the inscription which follows : — ' Burn's cot- tage, — Robert Burns, the Ayrshire poet, was born under this roof, on the 29th January, 1759.' Two small rooms occupy the whole floor of the house j in one of which, now used as a (kitchen, is a re- cess where stood the bed in which the poet was born. The other apartment is furnished with some neatness, and boasts an engraved view of the dwel- ling, and a large painting of Burns, which, from its size and style of execution, seems to have been in- tended for a tavern sign-board. The present occu- pier of the cabin, an elderly sawney-looking man, who seemed to have been never particularly ab- stemious in the use of whiskey, said that it was in that room that he last saw Burns, and then took a dram with him ; — adding, ' poor fellow.' He seem- ed nowise averse to repeating the draught even at this early hour ; and, accordingly leaving him enough for a double and triple portion, we mounted our seats and pursued our journey. Alloway Kirk, distant half a mile further, on the right, is pleasant- ly situated on the margin of the .Ooon, a few yards from the road. It is now unroofed. The walls, however, and belfrey remain, though in a ruinous state. \ small cemetery surrounds it. The Doon is a romantic Uttle stream. Its ' banks and braes' are indeed ' bonnie ;' — and we thought its various beauties abundantly entitled to the prai- ses which have been lavished upon them by the S4 EXCURSIOK FROM Ayrshire bard. The view from Carrick Hill, a little further on, was uncommonly pretty and extensive — the scenery soft and beautifully varied. Shortly af- ter, we passed the ruins of Baltarsan castle, and sub- sequently at no great distance, the nobler remains of Corseragwell abbey. This last, with its moulder- ing towers and cloisters, and arches, its moss-grown walls, and grass grown courts, was a most venerable and imposing object. Its order in a florid Gothic. The road the greater part of the day, followed closely the windings of the coast. The large rocky island of Arran, streaked with snow, the tall, stern cliff of Ailsea, and the abrupt iron-bounded shore of Kantyre, continued in sight for many miles. Leaving Kirk-Oswald, a pretty place on the sea- coast, where we breakfasted, the country became much more hilly ; and beyond Girvan, ten miles fur- ther, it assumed a very wild aspect. The soil was poor, and covered with slight verdure. A few sheep only were browsing among the heath and broom. For some miles, our path led us along a ledge which was cut from the precipice that shelved abruptly to the water's edge. We noticed many ravines, or fissures, at intervals, in the hilly ridge on our left, some of great depth. It was common also to see streams, or rather burns^ as they are termed, gushing through these openings and producing a fine effect. Several sea-views were very magnificent. We dined at a miserable inn at Ballantrae, and had as miserable fare. My food consisted of barley- EDINBURGH TO DUBLIN. 35 broth, oatmeal cakes and eggs. Leaving Ballantrae, the country became much more wild and bleak, than even it had appeared before. The hills were scan- tily covered with furze, and exhibited barely a few patches o^ heather. We entered a deep glen, where scarcely a single habitation was to be seen, which extended for three or four miles, till it terminated with a full view of the waters of Loch Ryan. The first sight of the lake, though it served to vary, could hardly be said to relieve the scene. As we proceed- ed, however, the hills near the loch, began to be covered with birches and broom ; and the road gra- dually became pleasanter, as it followed its margin — a firm, smooth beach, to Stranraer, a distance of nine miles. This town stands at the head of the lake, and is large and neat. Loch Ryan itself, is an estuary, extending nine or ten miles into the main land, and occupying a breadth of three or four. It would be tolerably pretty, if the country on each side of it were productive and well managed. A few boats, which we saw near Stranraer, skimming the surface of the lake, gave to the scene consider- able expression. From S. to Port Patrick, the road was good, and the country much improved. Two miles from Port P. we came in sight of St. George's channel, and saw distinctly beyond, in the horizon, the coast of Ire- land ; the first time of my seeing it since losing sight of the Wicklow mountains, while on my passage to Liverpool. Again, I beheld it with pleasure. We 36 EXCURSION FROM find Port Patrick a neat and rather romantic village, built under an amphitheatre of hills, and extending round a small cove in a semicircular form. The harbour is well protected, and is almost enclosed by high ledges of rocks, which jut from the mainland, and exhibit some singular and fantastic shapes. We alighted at a small, but comfort- able inn, where the people are all civility. A cheerful fire of peat blazed in the grate, which indicatec^ our vicinity to Ireland. We have learnt that the packet for Donaghadee, will not sail till 12 o'clock, to-morrow. An opportunity, howev- er, was presented to cross the channel this evening, in a return carrier-smack. The master of th'^ ves- sel was very urgent that we should take passage with him, and offered to accommodate us for a sum much less than the regular packet fare. We had several reasons for declining the proposal. It is sufficient to say, that a journey of fifty-six miles over 7k rugged tract of country, added to the known com- forts of an English Inn, left us little inclination to pur- sue immediately our course, whether by sea or land — much less to relinquish the prospect of a luxuri- ous bed, for a straitened birth in a miserable cabin.* The night is dark, and indicates hard weather. De- termining accordingly, to make the best of our situ- ation, we have ordered such comforts as the inn af- * As the event proved, however, if we had accepted the ofter. ■^.ve should have gained thirty hours on our route. EDIKBURGH TO DUBLIN. 37 fords, and are now employing the evening in conver- sation or in writing. BAY OF PORT PATRICK, APRIL 18 — JVOOBT. ^ I have just come on board the Westmoreland pack- et, for Donaghadee, and am attempting, with a miser- able pen which I found in the cabin, to fill up my journal. This morning I walked round the village of Port P. and climbed one of the hills which environ it. The bold, rocky shore which forms its harbour, struck my fancy very much. Ireland appeared in full view to the west. At 12, we took tickets for a passage in the packet for Donaghadee. The price of them was an half guinea each, exclusive of two or three minor charges. We are now standing ovei slowly to the Irish coast. The wind is ahead and light, and we shall not probably arrive there under several hours. The British coast is gradually reced- ing, and the Irish slowly enlarging on the view. 1 left the former with some emotion — ^impatient to step foot upon the ' land of sweet Erin' ; a country where I expect to find much that is new to amuse and instruct me. Previously to taking a short farewell of Scotland, I will retrace one or two recollections of recent date. — I had occasion yesterday, to remark a singular re- semblance between a real and an imagined scene. Everj^ reader of novels, as well as of graver descrip- tive works, insensibly pictures to his fancy the vari- ous scenes which the author attempts to represent. 4 38 EXCURSION FROM No matter whether the views which he forms, ac- cord with those of the writer, or not. To himself, they are consistent, intelhgible, and unconfused. His fancy spreads a map where each object has its known and determined place, and should years inter- vene, between the delineation and its remembrance, the whole would rise, at the powerful bidding of some association, fresh, and as mechanically upon the view, as the drop and sliding scenes of theatric representation obey the shifting cords of the attend- ant. I need not say after this, that I have hereto- fore been conversant with tales of fancy, but pro- ceed to add, that Loch Ryan, whose dreary ex- panse of waters I yesterday first descried, a few miles distant from Stranraer, strongly reminded me of the idea which I had long ago formed of a lake men- tioned in a certain popular romance, to a castle near which the heroine is related to have been carried. There was the same cheerless, sterile aspect in the country around, which I conceived to enclose the supposed water in the romance to which I allude. The rocks seemed to project in the same rude and bold manner from the main land ; and I almost ex- pected to see the appalling figure of some Father Schedoni stalking amidst the gloom of the impending crags. But another and a more interesting recollection w^as this morning suggested to my mind, while tread- ing the hills of Port Patrick. I remembered that it was there, the celebrated colonel Gardiner, in the intervals of his engagements with the duties of a gar- EDINBURGH TO DUBLIN. 39 rlson, had often walked and enjoyed those ravishing, pious meditations, which his letters more than once intimate, and which the glowing pen of Doddridge has feelingly depicted. One passage, in a letter of that eminent believer, I well remembered. — ' I took a walk,'' said he, upon one occasion, ' upon the moun- tains which are over against Ireland; and I persuade myself, that were I capable of giving you a descrip- tion of what passed there, 3^ou would say that I had much better reason to remember my God, from the hills of Port Patrick, than David from the land of Jordan and of the Hermonites.' This passage, which forcibly expressed the ardours of his piety, induced a train of reflections, which it would be foreign to my purpose here to introduce ; reflections, however, which touched upon most of the facts of his singular and unearthly history, and which terminated, as ev- ery former review has done, in the conviction, that in more than one event of that extraordinary man's life, we may trace the indisputable interposition of the ' finger of God.' 7 P. M. — I change a bad pen, and still more miserable ink, for a pencil, but little better. For the last several hours we have been becalmed, and have barely moved six miles from Port P. — At pre- sent there is scarcely a breath of air stirring, and what is worse, there is no immediate prospect of an increase. To add to the uneasiness of our situation, no stores were provided by us this morning, and it was an early hour when we breakfasted. The half- 40 EXCURSION FROM guinea which we paid on coming on board, merely secures a passage ; every thing else being expected to be provided by the passenger. It did not occur to us to ascertain this before our departure ; and even if it had, it is doubtful whether we should have made any provision, as the prospect was, that we should be in Ireland in a few hours ; and we were told that no passage had exceeded half a day for six months. Inquiring of the skipper, if there were any stores in the vessel, I found nothing except oatcakes and some shreds of salt heef; no biscuit, no ale, no beer. There is whiskey, indeed, but that I never drink — and water, which is not fit to be tasted. I gave the man, however a doceur^ desiring him to fur- nish what he could, and have just come up from inspecting, (for I can hardly say feeding upon) the banquet. It consisted of a jug of water, a broken plate of oatcakes, and two or three strips of greasy beef, which in appearance, and for ought I know, in taste, resembled the braids of a drayman's whip-lash. A single jack-knife completed the furniture of the table. Hungry as I was, a piece of oatcake was all I could eat, and I have just left the cabin, with the apprehension, that if the calm continues a day lon- ger, there will inevitably be a famine on board. These oatcakes, for which Scotland is renowned, are at best an indifferent diet. As made by some of the better families, they become barely tolerable ; but in general they are poor enough. It is usual to find them a quarter or half an inch in thickness. EDINBURGH TO DUBLIN. 41 The meal of which they are composed is very coarse ; and so dry are they, that unless the fauces are lubricated by some solvent draught, immediate- ly on eating a piece, a stranger may come well nigh being choked 1 have sometimes, when a little thirsty, inadvertently taken a piece of this bread into my mouth, without having any water or other liquid just at hand, and on the first attempt at mastication, have had my throat filled with the dust, and have felt it insinuating itself into every pore and vesicle of my lungs. The dough which is made of the bran of Indian corn, and given to poultry, by the farmers of America, would, if baked upon a tin, form a bread not unlike, 1 can conceive^ the oatcakes of Scotland, — certainly not inferior to them in qualit}^ Mr. H. * * * * and myself, are the only cabin pas- sengers. There are many others in the vessel, but they belong to the steerage. Seven or eight of these are women, of whom, two or three have chil- dren. I am now seated on the binnacle, over the companion-way. A group of these women are sit- ting a few feet to my right, upon the main deck, under the long-boat ; each exhibiting a countenance which Hogarth might have taken for a caricature of wo. Another woman, who has been extremely sick, is at present lying under the gunwale before me, asleep, and breathing with a most musical nasal ca- dence — the helmsman at my left, is standing listless over the tiller, casting an apparentl}^ vacant gaze around, but hoping, no doubt, that every passing 4 *■ 4;^ EXCURSIOIS FRO.M cloud will bring with it wind. H. * * * * is leaning over the bulwarks, half inclined to give up to sickness, which has been threatening him ever since he came on board. The sailors are carousing in the forecas- tle ; the confused sounds of their merriment are one moment swelling upon the ear, and the next, sink- ing away, till a new ebullition of wit produces a fresh shout of laughter. ' Having worn out my own pencil, I have borrowed that of my companion, and am employing it merely for the sake of beguiling time. As it is becoming cool, however, I have de- termined to go below, to try by sleep, to cheat time more effectually, in hopes that a few hours will pro- duce some change, or rather an increase in the wind. April 19, 5 A. M. — I have just come on deck, af- ter a broken night's rest. A breeze has sprung up, and we are this moment entering the small bay of Donaghadee. The men are employed in handing the sails. — The town of Donaghadee is neat in its appearance ; the houses are white-washed, which seems one indication of our having crossed the chan- nel. The fields are green ; and I perceive, what I did not expect, a few trees along the coast. The skipper has gone below for our baggage, and the boat is getting ready to take us ashore. DOBTAGHADEE, 6 A. M. A few moments after, we found ourselves on land. There is a magic in that word ; and the embarrass- EDINBURGH TO DUBLIN. 43 ing situation in which we were placed, on board the packet, did not diminish the joy which we felt in realizing a change. We were threatened with some difficulty at the Custom-house, in having our lug- gage passed — and were told that we must wait till the officer was risen, which would not be till nine. A shilling, however, obviated the hindrance, and shortly after, we were conducted to the small inn where I am at present writing. On entering a house, for the first time, in a strange country, it is natural to look around in search of something new. As I came into our present sit- ting-room, the tirst, of course, which I have seen in Ireland, 1 glanced my eye hastily over it, but saw nothing particularly to distinguish it from a com- fortable apartment, of a similar size, in any common American house. Two or three well-rubbed tables, and half a dozen hair-bottomed chairs are ranged round the room, and a small fire of peat burns in the grate. The last, it is true, differs from our generous wood fires. We have just risen from a frugal, but well-served breakfast, consisting of eggs, tea, dry toast, excellent butter and cream. The people of the house are very civil — we have made an arrangement to leave this place forthwith, in the stage-coach for Belfast. The horn is this moment sounding, a summons to ' gang awa,' 44 EXCURSION FROi¥ BELFAST, DONJTEGAIiL ARMS, aUARTER PAST 10 A. M. Leaving Donaghadee, I mounted the top of the coach, and occupied a seat with the guard. We passed, near the town, a high conical mound, resemh- ling the Silbury-hill Barrow, on the great SaHsbury downs, in England. The guard said that all he knevT about it was, that it was thrown up by the ancient inhabitants of this part of the island, ' to intrench themselves from the enemy.' My itinerary states that it is of Danish origin. The country through which we passed, appeared generally much richer, and in higher cultivation than any I have seen in Scotland, except the Lothians and Roxburghshire. Instead of stone walls, which accompanied us most of the way from Kilmarnock to Port Patrick wher6 the land was divided at all, we perceived pretty em- bankments of earth, about three or four feet high, clothed with verdant turf, and sometimes topped with rows of hawthorn. These, enclosmg the fields, and intersecting the country in every direction, add- ed much to the enamelled beauty of the landscape. The fields too, we noticed, were of a much deeper green than those which we had left in Scotland, — while the houses presented often very striking con- trasts to each other. Some of them were uncommon- ly mean and comfortless; and many, on the other hand, remarkable for their neatness. The former were generally low, of a single story, frequently constructed of mud, and having thatched roofs, with tiled or ground floors. The better houses were EDINBURGH TO DUBLIN. 45 white-washed, and surrounded with parterres of gooseberry and flowering shrubs. We saw heaps of turf, seemingly the only fuel, piled in the yards of most of the dwellings. It gave us pleasure to see some windmills also, — a novel sight to us who have just come from Scotland. They contributed to impart an air of industry and bustle to the landscape. Ban- gor, the town through which we first passed, after leav- ing Donaghadee, is rather large and populous. It has a fine church, which resembles, I thought, though on a smaller scale, the celebrated church at Ross, in Gloucestershire, whose tower. Pope has significantly denominated the ' heaven directed spire.' Between Newtonards and Ballyrogan we passed Derry house, the ancient seat of the earls of Londonderry, the ancestors of Lord Castlereagh, and the place where that distinguished nobleman was born. It is situated not far from Lough Strangford. Before leaving Glasgow, I purchased an Highland cap, or bonnet, as it is called, for the convenience of wearing in travelling. It is frequently seen in the Lowlands, and is more comfortable in a carriage than a round hat. It excited, however, more attention than I could have wished. It has so happened that the 42d and 92d Highland regiments are ordered to this coun- try, by the way of Port Patrick. The former were on the point of leaving Glasgow at the time that we did, and the latter had actually marched from Edinburgh, several days before. My bonnet, accordingly, which at another time would have passed unobserved, has led 46 EXCURSION FROM many to suppose me to belong to the army. While on my route from Glasgow, I heard several times the expression, as I was passing, ' There goes a Water- loo cap.' The landlord of Port Patrick at first took me for an Highland officer ; and on the morning that I embarked, I was several times asked if I was attached to that body of military, which was ex- pected to cross over that day. A similar mistake prevailed on my reaching the opposite shore, and many questions were put concerning the move- ments of the two regiments. It was not in every instance that I cared about undeceiving the inquirer ; for, in the first place, it did no good, and in the second, a positive benefit was otherwise gained. For such is the high character which these troops have obtained by their brave and gal- lant conduct, that they are every where welcomed with demonstrations of respect ; although many of the Irish have reason to look upon them with some distrust, 9§ coming to quell and overawe the spirit of sedition. Their places in Scotland are supplied by the Connaught rangers, and other Irish contin- gents ; an excellent policy on the part of govern- ment, to prevent a too cordial sympathy between the soldiery of a garrison and the neighbouring commu- nity, and particularly with the state prisoners, who, by virtue of the present suspension of the habeas corpus, are frequently seized on suspicion, and whom, the former are appointed to guard. EDINBURGH TO DUBLIN. 4T For the last few miles before arriving at Belfast, I took a seat in the inside of the coach, and found there an elderly, pleasant, well-dressed man, with whom I soon entered into an agreeable conversation. He also took me to be an Highland officer ; but I prefer- red to set him right upon this point, although 1 left him to suppose me a Scotchman, and, as I afterwards perceived from his conversation, a native of Edin- burgh. The mistake led to some remarks connect- ed with himself. He had been in the army former- ly ; and having served in the American revolutionary war, amused me much by some information which he undertook to give respecting my countrymen — or ' the rebels,' as he pertinaciously called them. He gave me an account of Boston, and its prodigious long wharf, the greatest, he said, that he had ever seen. He spoke of Bunker's hill, and described the action which was fought there. — He accounted for the un- usually large number of officers killed on that occa- sion, by saying, that many of the younger of them, several of whom were of his own acquaintance, volunteered to go out and witness the fun with the Yankees^ as they expressed it ; and, of course, the whole number was uncommonly and disproportiona- bly great. He did not think that the Americans dis- covered much gallantry in any action in which he saw them engaged. The militia, and other hasty levies, behaved often, he said, very shamefull3^ I asked if the Americans were, on the whole, pretty well civilized ; adding, that I supposed they 48 EXCURSION FROM were much behind our countrymen, (meaning those of the united kingdom.) ' Why, sir,' said he, ' I don't know that ; but I am far from thinking it. They have in America, some cities as fine as you may see in any part of Europe. At least this was getting to be the case when 1 was there, thirty years or more ago ; and they must have improved very much since. In my belief, sir, if you were dropped from the clouds upon the older settlements of Ame- rica, particularly in the northern provinces^^ and were not previously to be informed on what part of the globe you were to be set down, you would not know that you were out of your own country.^ — 1 thought so too, but did not mention the additional grounds which I had for entertaining the opinion. The guard of the coach, whom I have already mentioned, I found possessed of some dry humour, and a gpod deal of honest feeling. He told me, that he should return with the coach to Donaghadee at 12 this day, (a distance, as we came, of eighteen or twenty miles,) and that, in this manner, he had been going backwards and forwards between the two places for nearly three years. ' I am downright sick of it, sir,' said he, ' and cannot stand it much longer. 'Tis the hardest work that I ever had yet. Oftentimes I have little or nothing to do for the whole distance, but to sit still and look about ; and I know every bunch of thorn along the road. If I * i. e. States. EDINBURGH TO DUBLIx^f. 49 had alvvajs a pleasant gentleman like you, or that other young gentleman forward, who would converse with me, I should be satisfied.' I asked him if he did not like Ireland ? — ' 1 ought^ sir.' ' Ought, but don't you ?' — '• I ought, sir, I say again, but 1 like England better, and Scotland too, Scotland 1 like better.' ' How happens that ?' — ' Why there, there are good people who would have kept me from going astray. I have been a wild dog in my day, sir, and I am certain I should have been better, had there been any here to check me.' ' Do you mean that the people in Ireland are all bad ?' — ' Why no, sir, not quite that ; they mean well enough, I suppose, but they are all too much in the harum-scarum line^ like myself. The old people never stopped mo when I went wrong, but were alwa3's ready to join in any deviltry that I was about. I have been a sad dog,' he repeated, ' but would give (if 1 had them,) an hundred thousand guineas — bnnging his hand with great force upon his knee — ^ would give an hundred thousand guineas, if 1 were a good man now.' ' Oh, well,' said I, ' if you wish it so strongh'-, I have great hopes that you will be so soon.' — ' Would that I might, sir ; and I am tJmiking of it every day as I am passing along this road. But I keep putting it off — 'tis my nature, sir.' ' I am glad,' said I, ' that you like my country.' • What, England, sir ? You're from England ?' — 'Scotland, surely,' said I. 'That can't be, sir; you're from Edinburgh then ? but after all, I suspect 50 EXCURSION FROM you're an Englishman.' ' Why true, I was in En- gland first, but I have been in Scotland for some time.' ' Ah now, sir,' said he, ' don't expect to catch a weasel asleep in the morning. I knew you were an Englishman when you first spoke.' His name is George Sloans. He was born in Antrim, had served in the army, and was quartered at York, Newcastle, and North and South Shields. At the latter place, he said that he had passed the happiest part of his life. ' In the first place I was appointed sergeant, and was very much respected ; next, it was my business to oversee the putting up of a small bit of a fort there ; so I had nothing to do but to hold my head up — put my hands so' — (placing them a kimbo,) ' walk about — give my orders^ and go into the water just when I pleased."^ — He appeared to be turned of fifty-five, and had a frank, careless air and countenance. His brogue was not very percep- tible, and his English, in other respects good. DUBLIN, APRIL 21, EVENING. After writing the above, objects crowded so rapidly upon me, and it took so much time to attempt giving any correction to my journal, or preserving even sketches of what transpired, that I was obliged to defer the labour, and only note a few hints which I shall now attempt to dilate. We had letters in Belfast to two gentlemen, each highly respectable in their professions ; one a clergy- man, and the other a physician. Enough was said EDINBURGH TO DUBLIX. 51 for the eulogium of the former, in a single remark which was made by the fellow passenger who accom- panied us, as I have mentioned, to Belfast. I inquired if he knew Dr. B * * * * ? — ' Know him, sir,' said he, ' every body knows him about here.' He then mentioned, what, indeed, I had learnt before, that the gentleman was distinguished for his philanthropy, and was held in great estimation throughout this whole section of country. Unfortunately for us, they were both out when we called ; the physician being absent on a journey, and the other gentleman being in attendance, in an official capacity, at a meeting of the directors of some charitable institu- tion, from which he was not expected to be released till a late hour in the day. We were introduced, however, to his family ; and they evinced a de-lx^ to show us many civilities, which our arrangements did not permit us to accept. Mr. B * * * *, son to the Rev. Dr. and a merchant by profession, politely conducted us round the city. We visited with him, the quays, the exchange, the custom-house, the inte- rior of St. George's chapel, — an elegant structure ; — the library, and the subscription reading-room. Our names were entered on the books of the two last, which gave a right to use for a month to come, any of the papers or volumes belonging to each institu- tion. Our plans precluded our accepting further civihties — for such had been the vexatious delay occasioned by our passage across the channel, that we were determined to continue our journey ^^ £2 EXCURSION FROM soon as might be ; and besides, Vv'e were particularly desirous of passing the following day, which was Sunday, in DubUn. Belffist is a populous, well-built town, containing thirty thousand inhabitants, of whom, four thousand are Roman Catholics. It is situated at the head of the Carrickfergus bay, on the river Lagan, which there discharges itself. Over this stream, there has lately been constructed a magnificent stone bridge, of twenty-one arches ; three of which are in the county of Antrim, the others in Down. The houses are chiefly built of bricks, instead of freestone, as in the Scotch cities ; and these are not of the dingy colour common in England, but are of a bright red, and in some instances painted. Belfast has an ex- tensive commerce, but trades chiefly, I believe, with the West Indies. Its manufactures are very consi- derable ; the principal branch consists in the weav- ing of linens and cottons ; but the cotton manufac- ture is becoming, I was told, rather the more flourishing. Vv'e took a hasty dinner at Belfast, and remarked that the potatoes were no better than in America. — At 4 P. M. we entered the stage-coach for Dublin, distant eighty miles. The whole day had proved iine, but what remained of it was beautiful. Our first stage was to Lisburn, a neat and pretty town. Several villages, which we passed on the way there, pleased us very much. The country from Belfast to Lisburn, and thence to Dromore, is most lovely. EDINBURGH TO DUBLIN. 53 It has been well called the garden of Ireland ; there being no spot of the same extent, in any part of the isle, which possesses equal beauty with this district in Ulster. We saw a number of fine seats be- longing to the nobiUty and more opulent gentry ; and near Hillsborough, passed the palace of the bishop of Dromore, lately the residence of the lamented Dr. Percy. . Beggars were frequent along the route. At the town of Dromore, while we were stopping to take a fresh relay, I was accosted by one, with — ' Heaven bless you, dear sir ; pray give a poor old woman one ha'-penny to keep her from starving — an' plase your honour, an happy eternity be with you — one single ha'-penny ; — may you never want for money nor meat, your honour — only one ha'-penny, dear.' — I threw her a few pence, and the coach drove off. It was common to see by the way-side, mounds called here raths, all resembling tumuli, or the larger barrows which abound in the south of En- gland. They seem to be of great age, and are mostly referred by antiquaries to periods even earlier than the Danish invasion. The better kinds of cottages which we saw, were very comfortable in appearance ; all of them were well white-washed, and generally, they had little gardens or shrubberies before them. The fields displaj-ed a deeper ver- dure than it is usual to see in America : — many of the trees were in full leaf, and vegetation of all kinds had made a considerable progress. Several 5* 54 EXCURSION FROM ruinous piles of antique structures were passed, but none of them possessed much interest. A little before ten in the evening, we entered Newrj, thirty miles from Belfast, and there stopped to sup. At half past ten, we again entered the coach, and resumed our journey towards this city. The night was clear — the stars sparkled with unusual lustre, — and the coach-lamps admitted our seeing every thing immediately along the road, with tolerable distinct- ness. Our route from Newry was by Dundaik, Castle Bellingham, Dunleer, Drogheda, Balruddery, and Swords. It gave us pleasure to be informed that we should lose nothing of particular interest, for the next twenty-five miles. Between Newry and Dundaik, we travelled over some high and rugged ground — the road chiefly ascending for the first five miles, and descending the remaining five. At Dun- daik, a very pleasant and intelligent gentleman joined us, and continued in company till our arrival here. He was returning from the north, where he had been on a visit to the Giant's Causeway ; — and gave much information respecting the comparative state of Ulster, and also of Leinster, another of the four Irish provinces, which we were just entering. Day dawned upon us at half past three ; half an hour before our arrival at Drogheda. That town is large, and the streets through which we drove, appeared well built ; chiefly of brick. It is situated on the Boyne, a river famous for the battle which was fought on its banks in 1690, by king William EDINBURGH TO DUBLIN. 55 against the forces of James 2d. The field of action was two miles distant from Drogheda, up the river. A splendid monument marks the spot. I beheld the stream with interest ; and recalled the emotions which I had often felt in my early boyhood on lis- tening to the fine tune of the ' Boyne Water.' At Swords we saw a remarkably curious tower, the date and precise object of which are wholly unknown. It is built of stone, and is seventy or eighty feet in height. It tapers gradually from the base, and is of narrow circuit compared with its altitude. There are a number of loop-holes cut through its walls similar to those seen in the old English feudal castles.* Near it are the ruins of a church, the tower of which is very perfect ; — and at a little remove further the noble remains of an immense structure, which, from the parapets upon the walls and the embattled turrets at the angles, several of which remain entire, — seems to have been a castle, formerly of great strength. There are several other mutilated edifices around, and some small mounds, or raths. Swords was formerly * Since writing the above I have conversed with two or three gentlemen, who have inquired much into the antiquities of Ireland, respecting this and similar towers v.-hich are found in the country. They confirm the opinion that they defy all satisfactory research : — but think that they are Druidical struc- tures, originally intended as places of worship. Their date therefore, they suppose, to be anterior to the introduction ff ■cluistiaaity into Ireland. (Dubliriy April 28.) 56 EXCURSION FROM a city of great consequence, and the seat, if I mistake not, of the ancient kings of Leinster and Ulster. It is now very much reduced, and exhibits little else than the ruins of its former grandeur. The remainder of our ride to Dublin, distant eight miles was through a pleasing and picturesque country : — rather too flat perhaps, but diversified with some gentle swells — A range of high grounds, or mountains, bounded the prospect to the west and north. Three miles from Dublin, we first came in sight of this magnificent city. The view was striking, although not quite as much so as was anticipated. As we approached, however, it im- proved very much. The houses appeared regularly built, and evidently not so high as many in Edin- burgh. They are composed of brick chiefly ; and give a fine relief to the deep verdure of the parks and pleasure grounds which environ the city. We did not perceive so many spires and domes rising from the town, as we wished and indeed expected to see. The suburbs also through which we drove were far from looking well ; and in fact would have disappointed us exceedingly had we not have been prepared for seeing them. But on escaping these, we entered some fine streets, and soon came into Rutland-Square, which was magnificent indeed. The trees and small-wood in the central area were in full leaf. We proceeded next through Sackville-street, resembling, though not quite so broad, the upper part of Market-street in Philadelphia. A noble EDINBURGH TO DUBLIN. 57 monument is erected at the head of it in honour of Nelson ; — on the four sides of the pedestal of which, the names of St. Vincent, Nile, Copenhagen and Trafalgar are severally inscribed. I estimated its height at 150 feet. Similar, though not quite so costly monument^) in memory of this hero, I meet every where in the Three Kingdoms. Leaving this, we crossed the Litfey by the Carlisle-bridge, entered Westmoreland-street and soon found ourselves in a spacious area which we easily distinguished as the College-green. Here I alighted with Mr. H * * * * ; — and having ordered a porter, we repaired to the Commercial Buildings ; a splendid hotel, which was a few yards distant. We were surprised on coming into this city, to find many shops open, (it being Sunday.) and numbers of people employed apparently as in week days. Our fellow passenger had apprised us that this would be the case ; and explained it by saying that a large proportion of the population of Dublin was compos- ed of Roman Catholics, who thought that by observ- ing some of the forms prescribed by the church, a full dispensation might be claimed for these licentious practices. After breakfast, we walked to Trinity College, to attend divine service in the chapel. It commenced at half past nine. Many students were presrnt; at- tired' in white habits, and having the same caps which are worn by the members of Fngi'ish Univer- sities. A black gown is the designating dress on #8 EXCURSION FROM week days. The service was the same with that in the cathedral churches in England. An excellent sermon was delivered hy a gentleman, formerly a fellow in the college, and now settled in some coun- try benefice. The chanting and singing pleased us very much. The chapel is large, and has an high vaulted ceiling. Its order is Ionic ; two pilasters of this kind occupying the spaces between each window. The ceiling is finely stuccoed, and the whole is rich- ly ornamented. In fact, the brilliant white of the walls, contrasted with the crimson curtains of the window, gave to the chapel an appearance, I thought, rather too gaudy for a place of christian worship. Understanding that the anniversary sermon before the Charitable Orphan Institution was to be preached at St. Peter's church at twelve, and that the lord lieu- tenant* was to be present, and, what is unusual, to come instate, we repaired there immediately on leav- ing the college chapel. The cavalcade of his excel- lency passed us, while on our walk and within a short distance of the church. A troop of cavalry preceded it ; followed by three coaches, in which were some of the officers of the lord lieutenant's household. Next came his own carriage drawn by six horses, superbly caparisoned. — Four powdered footmen in state liveries stood behind ; who, with the driver and outriders, more resembled stage pageants than men in real life. The lord lieutenant was accompa- * The Earl of Whitworth ; late Ambassador to France. EDINBURGH TO DUBLIN. 69 nied in his coach by his wife, (the dutchess of Dor- set,) his chaplain, and an officer in full dress uniform whose name and rank we did not learn. Several oth- er carriages closed the procession. A detachment of soldiers was drawn up to receive the lord lieu- tenant before the door of the church ; and he alight- ed amidst a salute of arms, and the flourish of drums and trumpets. The ceremony was repeated when he returned from church : the guard keeping duty in the mean while at the door. We were fortunate in procuring a pass, and in getting good stations in the church. The lord lieutenant is a fine looking man, and appears about fifty five. His person is tall and rather slender ; but graceful and erect. His countenance possessed something which brought to mind very much that of the present Governor of Massa- chusetts. The contour of the t^ith which he subsequently honoured him. Sir Richard, though then in the vigour of health and usefulness, lived but about ten months after, and fell a victim to the typhus fever in its destructive march through Ireland. He possessed a mind of strong native powers, which had been greatly strength- ened by culture and exercise ; but at the same time, he inherited an impetuosity of feeling, which occasionally hurried him be- yond the bounds of strict prudence, particularly on political ground. As a citizen, notwithstanding, he was eminently use- ful, and rendered important services to government. Nor did any political predilections ever cause him to swerve from what lie conceived to be the path of duty. His opponents never dar- ed to arraign the purity of his motives ; and in the various offii- ces which he sustained, all parties did homage to his command* ing talents, and his stern and unbending integrity. EDINBURGH TO DUBLIN. 123 The Dublin hours of dining, are immoderately late. The four and five o'clock habits of North Britain were sufficiently unreasonable, at least ac- cording to my plain Yankee notions ; but the good citizens of Dublin prefer to follow more closely the Westminster standard : six, half past six, and sevea are usual hours of appointment on cards ; and I have sat down to dinner as late as eight. April 30. — I have repeatedly admired, in my walks through the city, the new Post office which is erecting on a magnificent scale ; and which when completed, will not only form a great architectural embellishment to Dubhn, but be probably the most perfect establishment of the kind in the world. It occupies a fine position near Nelson's monument, and presents a noble front. The method of conveying letters by the general post is now under excellent regulation in Ireland ; and for safety and despatch is not surpassed even in England. The mail coaches are provided with guards, who with the driver, are well armed ; and they travel at the rate of eight miles an hour, ia- cluding the necessary delays. Among other methods which were devised by the conspirators in the Rebellion of 1798 to convey in- teUigence, it was agreed that the signal for the general rising should be the stoppage of the public coaches which daily departed from the Metropohs to different parts of the kingdom. The agents ap-. pointed to carry into execution this resolve, to make 124 EXCURSION FROM thorough work, not content with detaining, actually destroyed and burnt the Belfast coach near Santry, the Athlone coach at Lucan, and the Cork, near Naas ; — and to add to the atrocity of the whole, at Kildare, they wantonly murdered the guard and driver of a mail coach which was on its way to Li- merick. These outrages but faintly illustrate the introductory horrors of that rebellion, whose whole course was marked with devastation and blood ; a rebellion, which reared its baleful head in defiance of all order and of law ; and which not only threat- ened at its birth the prostration of every barrier of legitimate sovereignty in Ireland, but shook the pil- lars of the British throne. It is worthy of remark that whatever may be the grievances under which the poorer classes in this country have for a long period laboured, all disturban- ces which have had redress for their ostensible object, have been distinctly traceable to Catholic instigation. I well know indeed that the Catholics themselves have been subjected to an oppression which has cal- led loudly for atonement ; — and that reparation has been too tardily administered. But yet facts will bear me out when I say, that till of late they have uniformly resisted the most judicious schemes for the amelioration and improvement of their condi- tion, which the exigency would admit, — and this, simply on the ground of their protestant origin. Praise-worthy endeavours have been made in many districts by wealthy episcopalians, to instruct and EDINBURGH TO DUBLIN. 125 enlighten the lower orders of society, without re- gard to religious distinctions, but with little success. As late as the year 1801, a female charity school was established at Wexford, the object of which was to educate poor children, whether papist or pro- t^stant, in reading and writing, and to train them to habits of useful industry. Apparel was also provid- ed for them. At first there were eighty children who resorted to it ; of whom fifty-two were Catho- lics. But the happy effects which were anticipated were well nigh being utterly defeated by the bigotry of a popish priest in the city. He took occasion on a sabbath to announce to his parishioners that any of them who should continue to send their children to the school should be excommunicated. To avoid this penalty the latter were accordingly withdrawn. With such a spirit abroad as this anecdote attests, it has been found diflicult by the benevolent of the protestant persuasion to bring their plans for the benefit of the Catholic poor, to bear with the desir- ed effect ; and it is lamentable that a country which for natural advantages yields to none in Europe, and which was last in the train of vassals which bowed to the domination of the Roman see,* should so long have groaned under a multitude of evils, either re- sulting from the ignorance and bigotry consequent upon an attachment to the dogmas of that hierarchy, * Ireland did not embrace the Catholic roligion till the begin- ning of the twelfth century. 11 * 126 EXCURSION FROM or from the measures resorted to by government to check their influence and neutralize their eifects. For a series of years preceding the close of the last century, popery in Ireland was made the vehicle of sedition. The pulpits of Catholics teemed with invectives against protestant power, — harangues which served to inflame the minds of ^n ignorant populace ; — and on the breaking out of the great re- bellion, more than one Romish priest, with a lamb-hke spirit which would have suited the genius of Peter the Hermit, girded the sword and led forth his in- surgent flock. In Wexford, Fathers Michael and John Murphy, par nobile fratrum^ — erected their rebel standards, and having received all who repair- ed to them, marched with fire and sword through that flourishing county, and spread dismay along the borders of Carlow and Waterford. Since the X^nion, or more properly, since the year 1803, when disaf- fection put forth another and a final convulsive struggle, reformation in the habits, the morals, the civil condition of the Irish poor has been making rapid progress. The hopes of the turbulent have been broken by successive defeats. Government has manifested a spirit of concession, without relax- ing from that circumspection and energy necessary to its stability. The free and charter schools which have been opened in different parts of the kingdom have been instrumental in diflusing useful know- ledge, and in disciplining the children of the peasan- try in habits of order and sobriety. The land hold- EDINBURGH TO DUBLIN. U7 er has been encourag-ed to enclose and improve his wastes and commons.* English manufacturers and capitalists have been invited to settle in the country, at will ; — and from the conjoint operation of these multiplied causes, thousands have been reclaimed from idleness and vice, and bread has been dealt to famishing multitudes. I should be unwilling to omiit subjoining in this place, a remarkable instance of the benefits resulting to the community from a judicious employment of the poor, accompanied with a suitable attention to their morals, which has been evidenced by '1 hos. Nowland, Esq. of Kilkenny. This gentleman hav- ing recently put into operation in that country, a very extensive woollen manufactory, has endeavour- ed to improve to the uttoost, the condition of those whom he employs; and to ascertain whether the establishment, instead of proving a bane to morals, might not be rendered a nursery of correct and ex- emplary habits. The buildings are so arranged as to admit and secure an entire separation of the sexes. The apprentices, besides receiving gratuitously a suitable school education, are presented with the needful elementary books, as well as others of an excellent moral tendency ; and to guard against the evils which are often occasioned by the fluctuations incident to their employment, they are instructed in * Not quite a century has elapsed since an Irish Pailiament deemed it necessary to enact that every occupier of one hun- dred acres of land should keep five of them under tillage ; and this was then thought to be seeming a great point. 128 EXCURSION FROM the use of the implements of husbandry, and taught to combine thereby, the healthful habits of the pea- sant with the skill and aptitude of the manufacturer. The benefits which were contemplated have been happily realized, and their influence has extended beyond the immediate neighbourhood. ' 'I'hus,' says the humane and enterprising proprietor, (I quote his words from a sketch of the history of the estabHshment, which he presented to the Dubhn so- ciety of arts, and a copy of which, with an engraved view of the buildings, he obligingly presented to me.) ' Thus have peace and civilization been dif- fused around it ; an idle, poor, and ignorant race, have been converted into an industrious, educated, and moral people ; and in securing the happiness of above 300 individuals, its immediate objects, it has thrown a shield over the persons and property of all within the sphere of its influence and enabled them, though within a few miles of a disturbed district, to isleep secure without lock or bolt.^ I return from these remarks to the incidents of my narrative. There is a singular vehicle used in this city called a car, and another little less singular, though rather more comfortable, termed a jingle. They have no tops, and are drawn by one horse. The former has a square body swung low, without any sides, and having two seats which are placed in the middle, and disposed lengthwise. Each of these seats can accommodate three passengers ; who are obliged to sit back to back, with their sides, instead of EDINBURGH TO DUBLIN. 129 their faces, towards the horse. The latter vehicle re- sembles somewhat the body of a common coach, with the top off; and the seats being placed at the sides, allow the passengers to sit face to face, al- though with the same awkward position towards the horse, as in the other case. The jingle is a good sort of sociable enough, but unmercifully capacious in respect to the poor beast who is to draw it. The ear, on the other hand, or to give it its whole appel- lation, the jaunting car, is much cheaper, and conse- quently in more general use. I was desirous, from curiosity, to try the motion of this vehicle ; its uncouth appearance in passing, having more than once drawn a smile from me. Walking yesterday with Capt. M***** of the Navy, towards a friend's house, I incidentally mentioned the thought. ' Allans done ;' said he, ' we will make the trial together.' I confess, I did not think that he would have closed with the suggestion quite so read- ily ; however acceding, I deviated with him to a turn in the street, not far from a station on which we saw two of these machines, and their drivers in the most pacific mood possible, stretched upon the pavement near them. Our distant call brought them along side of their jaded horses, but not till after a furious scramble, of which their parti-coloured ap- parel had most reason to complain, coming olT as usual, second best. Plying their whips and running along side, they then urged the poor animals into a sort of half gallop towards the place where we were 130 EXCURSION FROM waiting ; but in point of fleetness, it was easy to see that their masters greatly outdid them. Not content too, with pushing his own beast, honest Pat had an eye to his neighbour's, and while he lashed here, he counterlashed there, and this kind office being reci- procated, we had begun to apprehend on the princi- ple of opposite forces, that their luckless steeds would be soon brought to a stand ; but a smart stroke being applied by one of them across the forehead of the horse of his rival, the ire of the latter rose to a towering height, and disdaining to avenge himself upon a less object, he coiled his whip with tremen- dous eifect about the legs of his comrade, and leav- ing him to recover as well as he might from this coup-de-grace ^ made another effort to reach our ground and succeeded. The drapery of Fat when he came up, was well worthy of inspection. The coat looked truly venera- ble, and with its many scars of many similar contests, showed like a tattered banner in St. Paul's. It had suffered so severely m this latter engagement, from a rent having found its way from the division of the skirts to the cape, that it would, without fail, have called forth our sympathies but for Pat's coolly re- marking, that it had parted in the same place the week before, and doubtless, we thought, more than once before that. We were soon in the crazy ve- hicle, and Pat was on his stand, although hardly on his seat. Guiding the reins with one hand, and flourishing the other towards his foiled antagoni&t in EDINBURGH TO DUBLIN. I3I the rear, he dealt out a rhodomontade with ' arrah, and whip Peg, will you? Och, by my shoul, but i'il crack a shillala upoa your drum head when I get back, my hoaey, wont I ? Aye, and every mudder^s son like you, blood and oundsbut 1 will though, och.' But his rhetoric, notwithstanding reiteration, was un- happily lost upon the other, who had better employ- ment than listening ; and as long as the vehicle was in sight, pursued it with a similar bilhngsgate rejoin- der, marvellously to our satisfaction. Friend Pat in the meanwhile drove on, despite of our remonstrance, with all attainable speed; the car occasionally giving us a jolt which the ribs of Peg could scarcely have withstood. At length it was in- timated, that as no terms had been made, it was at our option to pay him by the time. Immediately Pat recollected that his beast had been drove ' owr hard' in the morning, and ' wa'ant it a pity if their hon- ors wa'ant in no haste to drive a poor cratur to death for nothing.' Peg understanding the hint, soon trudged in a provokingly slow pace. * Why Pat,' we both spoke as we were going up a slight ascent, when the animal once or twice seemed actually asleep, ' why Pat, you do not call this a hill V ' Och, your honors, but I don't call it a hollow ;' and such was the spirit of all his replies. Proceeding with this hearse-like march, along Stephen's green, where the gallant Captain has many friends, our humble equipage did not prevent several fair hands from being waved, accompanied however with a smile and look 132 EXCURSION FROM of inquiry; but neither of us had cause to regret our arrival at the place of debarkation. Pat receiv- ed for the passage, just double the legal fare ; but hoping to better the account, wished '• their honors' to consider the time that had been spent ; and, 'had'nt he lost opportunities therefore to drive other jontil- men,' and '• fath he could'nt tah the fi' ten-pennies.' My friend glancing significantly, requested a return of the monej^, which was readily given back in the hope of an increase. Pocketing it however, he was proceeding deliberately up the steps, when Pat timed a suitable acknowledgment, and receiving ' no- thing loth,' the ten-pennies, mounted his car, and drove back to settle the point of honour with his comrade. The corrupt use of language in pronunciation, for which this country is so noted, that even the dogs have been said to hark in a brogue^ is not a little grat- ing to a stranger's ear, until familiarized by use. It is sensibly worse than the yeow and other Joe- Bunkerisms of New-England, but after all it is not quite so bad as i had been led to imagine. It is de- cidedly preferable in my opinion to the broad Scotch, and most of the provincial dialects in England ; and this which is true of the lower orders, is the more re- markable the higher the parallel is carried. The bet- ter classes of Dublin have little of the Hibernian sib- boleth ; and its men of letters speak the English lan- guage with even Oxonian purity. Their organs of utterance are as flexile as those of the Londoners, EDINBURGH TO DUBLIN. 133 and they enjoy this advantage over them, at least over the cockneys of Bow Bell, that without any of their dipt, mincing pronunciation, they bring their words out full and well coined. The citi- zens of Edinburgh, on the other hand, have a muf- fled tone of voice ; and they articulate in such a trotting, up and down cadence, that an English ear is half the time puzzled to know whether they are serious. The Irish have a great vivacity in conversation, and are distinguished, as is well known, for a fond- ness of metaphor and a quickness of illustration. Various instances of the latter pecuUarity are present to my mind, although it is sufficient to mention only one. Being with a mixed party at a friend's house the other day, conversation turned upon the proba- ble effects of the redundant population of the sister isle, and particularly of that enormous mass concen- trated in London. ' England' said one, ' I conceive to be valetudinarian. She is an hydrocephalus sub- ject ; and the peccant humours which are collected in London as its head^ will, ere long, prove the destruc- tion of the whole body politic' ' You are not quite right there,' rejoined another, ' it is no morbid action. England remains as sound as ever. But she is not rightly burdened ; a sailor would call her crank. In a word, she is top-heavy ; and depend upon it, Lon- don is the head which will sink the nation.^ I have before taken occasion to hazard an opinion upon the soi-disant beauty of the Irish women. From 12 134 EXCURSION FROM the general sentiment as then advanced, I have found no cause hitherto to dissent; although I am free to say, that I have paid a willing homage to a few sig- nal exceptions to its truth. The remark however, was in no respect intended to touch upon the accom- plishments in mind or manners of the Dublin fair, for the fascinations of these, a stranger cannot fail at first glance, to acknowledge and admire. To day, too, in a circle at the solicitor-general's, I met with ladies who, for beauty of countenance and person, not only reflect a brilliancy upon the Emerald Isle, but would grace the splendours of any Parisian cote- rie. The lady of the S. G. is herself distinguished for the elegance of her appearance, and combines a finished refinement of manners with the reported en- dowments of an exrilted mind. The evening amuse- ments of the drawing room were interspersed with music on the piano and harp, in the execution of which, great skill and taste were displayed. But I must not forget to mention a gratification which I have experienced, in hearing the tones of the true Irish harp. The Welsh performer who had so greatly interested me, informed me that he knew of one who played that instrument in this city, and that whenever I should wish it, he would procure his attendance. In the course of this morning, I ac cordingly sent to have him produced. His harp was about one half the size of the common pedal harp, and one third, that of the Welsh. It was strung with wire instead of catgut, as is the latter, and this gave EDIjN BURGH TO DUBLIN. 135 its tones a sharper, indeed, somewhat a shrill sound. The music nevertheless was good, and struck my fancy very much. It was heightened perhaps by as- sociation; the airs which were selected being na- tive Irish, and they embraced the best of Tom Moore's Melodies, not forgetting the ' harp that once through Tara's halls,' and the ' glories' of brave Brien. The appearance of the harper was very lit- tle a-la-mode. He was a plain, prose-like looking being ; but of civil manners and address. He was born in Ulster, somewhere in the neighbourhood of Belfast, and had come to Dublin with an associate who now shares with him the gains and honours of minstrelsy. May 1st. — This is May-day, but Dublin has ex- hibited few of those festivities which used to mark the occasion, and which are still kept up in many parts of England. The most that I have seen out of the common course is the grotesque appearance of the chimney-sweeps. This is a holyday to them, and well it would be for the sake of humanity if they had the first day of every month. They deck themselves on the present occasion with figured paper-caps and ornaments, and patrole the side walks soliciting season-pence from every passenger. Usquebaugh, perhaps, has flowed rather more copi- ously than usual ; and Pat accordingly has been in his element. Passing near several tap-rooms, my ear was regaled by the melody of that lyre of all nations, the fiddle ; whilst Teague was keeping ,13S EXCURSION FROM time to the chorus with a ' nate little bit of a tid- re-i.' The Foundling hospital established here, is a most humane institution. I had hitherto deferred a visit to it, but should have regretted deeply to have left the city without seeing it. The measures which are adopted by the managers of this hospital for the preservation of children, undoubtedly rescue annu- ally a large number from death. It has been usu- al for a cradle to be kept constantly at the gate for the reception of those exposed, that parents might be deterred from the crime of infanticide, either through inability to give them support, or a desire to avoid a detection of their shame. The institution is sup- ported solely by the inhabitants of Dublin, although infants are brought to it from all parts of the king- dom. A tax of j£l 0,000 yearly is collected for this purpose from the city and liberties, which is raised chiefly by an assessment of one shilling in the pound on each house. 1 he children who are admitted in- to the establishment average one hundred and eighty a month ; but a mortality of one fourth for the same period has not been unfrequent. The hospital it- self accommodates one thousand ; and five thousand more are with country nurses. They are all at a suitable age instructed in reading and writing and the principles of the protestant faith, after which they are apprenticed. In the nursery there is a clock which was pre- sented by a titled lady some forty or fifty years ago, feut coupled with an inscription which runs in the EDINBURGH TO DUBLIN. 137 following serio-comico phraseology, ' For the benefit of inflxnts, — Lady Arabella Denny presents this clock to mark, that as children who are fed by the spoon must have but a small quantity of food at a time, it must be offered frequently. For which pur- pose this clock strikes every twenty minutes, at which notice all the infants that are not asleep must be discreetly fed.' A friend accompanied me to Feinagle's school, and Christ church. As the regulations of the former of these are generally known by the many reports which are before the public, and the intimations giv- en in the Art of memory, a description here is un- necessary. The institution, it may be added, has thus far fulfilled expectation and redeemed the pledge of the projector. The arrangements and course of discipline, nevertheless, struck me as needlessly complex and artificial. Christ church — to use a strong figure — is the Westminster Abbey of Dublin ; but the actual re- semblance is very imperfect. It is an ancient edifice of little grandeur and less beauty, and was founded as early as the commencement of the eleventh cen- tury. It has undergone few alterations since, except on the south side of the nave, the walls of which fell down in the year 1562. This accident injured se- verely a monument to earl Strongbow — ' the fijrst and pryyicipall invader of Irland 1169, qvi obiit 1177,' — as an inscription states ; and happened under the viceroyalty of 12* 138 EXCURSION FROM TH : RIGHT : HONORABL : T : ERL : OF : svssEX : l. : levtnt : The monument is a curious piece of old statuary, representing tlie earl in armour, with part of a fe- male figure at his side, both lying extended on a block of stone. It is difficult to convey to an Ameri- can an accurate conception of these avncyent speci- mens of sculpture. In cathedrals and abbey churches they are generally found in the side aisles, or between the pillars, or in the chapels and clois- ters which adjoin the main structure. The ashes of those they commemorate are under the pavement somewhere, but not always very near, the location of the monument above being a point of most con- sequence. Sometimes the deceased is represented in a recumbent position upon the top of a raised slab, with the hands closed on the breast, as in the act of praying ; the whole being sculptured from a mass of stone, and presenting a lugubrious spectacle ; looking as natural^ that is, as much like a human form as the outer casing of an Egyptian mummy. Not unfrequenfly a pair, decked in their bridal apparel, are so exhibited, and occasionally a whole family group. If the deceased be a prelate, he is found kneeling in his pontificals and mitre, though not in the most melting mood ; whilst the warrior is seen reclining on his arms, with an aspect grim as that of Gog and Magog of Guildhall memory, or the redoubt- able Jack the Giant killer. In St. Patrick's cathedral EDINBURGH TO DUBLIA". 139 I remember to have seen a curious whole length sta- tue of Michael Tregury, formerlj'- metropolitan of Dublin. The venerable primate is exhibited in flow- ing robes with a crosier in his hand ; and an angel is made fast to his side by rings on his fingers. But there is another piece of singular statuary which just now occurring to my mind, I mention to introduce an account of some repairs which it un- derwent by a hand not generally deemed the most plastic, which may thence convey an idea of the beau- ties to be looked for in these monumental antiquities. lu an old church in the town of Truro, in Corn- wall, there is a large massive monument which is erected to the memory of John Roberts, Esq., who died in 1614. It was originally decorated with se- veral figures, and having fallen into decay, was a few years since repaired by orders of Miss H*** of Lanradick, a descendant of the family. When it was finished the mason presented an account, of which the following is a hteral copy ; — ' To putting one new foot to Mr. John Roberts, mending the other, putting seven new buttons to his coat, and a new string to his breeches'-knees : to two new feet to his wife Philips, mending her eyes and putting a new nosegay into her hand : to two new hands and anew nose to the captain : to two new hands to his wife, and putting a new cuff to her gown : to making and fixing two new wings on Time's shoulders, mak- ing a new great-toe, mending the handle to his sithe, and putting a new blade to it j' — all of which itemIS 140 EXCURSION FROM are severally drawn out and balanced by pounds, shillings, and pence. Mr. John Roberts, designated by the '• new string to hisbreeches'-knees,' is in a reclining posture, with an open prayer book before him, whilst his lady is lying very comfortably on her side, with the' new nosegay,' in her hand, as specified in the mason's bill. The ' seven new buttons' are plainly distin- guishable, and the captain's ' new nose' and the ' two new feet to his wife Phihps,' are now happily in ex- cellent order. Time, also, with his ' two new wings,' and *• new great-toe,' and sithe handle, looks as blithesome and fresh as any May-day chimney-sweep. May 2d. — The weather, ever since my arrival in Dublin, has been uncommonly fine. In a country, nevertheless, so proverbial for its humidity as Ire^ land, I was prepared to expect frequent, if not daily showers ; instead of which I have almost unin- terruptedly enjoyed bright suns and clear skies. Not a drop of rain has fallen since 1 landed at Dona- ghadee ; — the heavens at this moment are arrayed in the deepest blue ; and the sun shines as cheerily as ever it did in Massachusetts. This is the more acceptable just now as I had made arrangements to leave Dublin to-day in a vessel bound to the north of England. Were I to consult simply my feelings, my stay here would be protract- ed much longer : — but other and indispensable engagements preclude it. Through the many kind assiduities of friends, however, 1 have been enabled EDINBURGH TO DUBLIN. 141 to comprise much within a short period ; — and in reviewing what has transpired, I am induced to beheve that the days which I have spent in this city have been as profitably employed as so many weeks would have been under circumstances less favourable for observation. In leaving Dublin it is impossible not to carry with me a gratetul recollection of the urbanity, and, I will add, the overflowing hospitality of its inhabi- tants. Something of this my friends in Scotland had authorized me to anticipate ; and the letters with which they honoured me, gave the promise of every reasonable attention. But after all, it is the manner in which courtesies are shown to the stranger which gives them their chief value ; — and whoever has experienced the cordiality of an Irish welcome knows that there is a kindness expressed by it, which no solicitations of friendship can purchase or ensure. In general, I look upon a letter of introduction as a sort of lottery ticket I receive it for better or worse, and am willing to try its fortune ; although nothing is lost by calculating against it ; — and the principle perhaps is one with which every traveller would do well to lay his account. But by this I would not be understood to intimate that an entire neglect of any letter recommendatory need be ap- prehended on its delivery ; — but rather that the bearer should be prepared for that cold, unmeaning acknowledgment of it which shows itself in little 142 EXCURSION FROM somethings, which in fact amount to nothings ; or which is satisfied with a general proffer ef civility, or perhaps the giving a soUtary card to some formal dinner or crowded rout, — all which if any one chooses to distinguish by the term hospitality, he is at liberty so to do ; hut he must allow me the privi- lege of dissenting from his construction. The tra- veller, notwithstanding, who visits Dublin, may dis- miss all fears in regard to the fate of his creden- tials. If he comes properly recommended, he will be received with a frank and generous kindness ; and if he possesses any share of sensibility he will go away with deep and lasting impressions of grati- tude. Towards my own countrymen, particularly, I am persuaded that a more than common good will is entertained by the better, as well as the humbler classes of inhabitants in this city. The present friendly intercourse subsisting between Great Britain and the United States, is regarded with great satisr faction. It is a topic which I have often heard adverted to ; and whenever mentioned, is accom- panied with the aspiration, Esto perpetuum. Being at a friend's house last evening, and conver- sation happening to turn upon the late hostilities between the two countries, — I was amused with the remarks of a lady who ingeniously maintained that not only was it for their mutual interest to per- petuate the present harmony, but that uniformly it had been the wish of England to ^reserve it. In EDINBURGH TO DUBLIN. 143 confirmation of her assertions, though with a smile which somewhat betrayed her confidence in the .weight of the evidence adduced, she referred to a little jeu d'esprit which appeared in an American journal on occasion of ]Mr. Rose going out as minister to the United States in the year 1811. That Britain seeks for peace these facts disclose, She sends as messenger of Peace a *' Rose ;" The bark which bears that messinger of Peace Is named " Stat-ira," — that's, Let anger cease. But further recollections I have at present no leisure to trace. The vessel in which I have taken passage will weigh anchor probably about 1 o''clock. Mean- while, a few leave-takings, — the traveller's penalties, — remain to be attended to. For myself I can truly say, ' Hce sunt Lachrymce rerum. May 3d. On board 'Samuel and Thomas,' Irish Sea. Yesterday at the hour appointed, I left Dublin, and embarked in the present vessel for Whitehaven, in England. The breeze, though favourable, was light ; and we were acccordingly at first much re- tarded in descending the Liffey, and entering fairly the bay. This, however, allowed me to survey more leisurely the beauties of the latter; and I must say that they disappointed me not a httle. I have often heard this bay compared with that of Naples ; — as indeed every fine bay in the world has been 144 EXCURSION FROM I believe, in its turn ; — but certainly if the bay of Naples is no better than this of Dublin they are both decidedly eclipsed by that of Boston. Dublin itself is far from making that fine figure, viewed from the water, which I had supposed. It lies low, instead of crowning an eminence at the head of the bay, which might have made it a noble object. It is destitute also of a sufficient number of steeples and domes ; — embellishments requisite to every fine city. It has, it is true, a few ; and these are striking beauties. The private houses, too, of Dublin are large and regularly built, and so far, make a good appearance, whether seen from water or land. The custom-house, and the stupendous mole extending from it three miles into the ocean are magnificent objects. The numerous shipping in the harbour and river, with their gro\'es of masts, — all looked well ; — but still much was wanting to entitle the scene to the high panegyrics which I have heard lavished upon it ; — 1 mean, from that point of view to which I am at present adverting. But as we dropt down lower into the bay, the appearance of things improved. The scenery on the left shore became picturesque and pleasing. Several neat villages and hamlets were discovered ; and the houses being well white-washed formed a pretty contrast to the deep verdure around. On the right were seen the blue mountains which skirt the county of Dublin ; and to the east, the more distant, but no less aspiring heights of Wickiow, The EDINBURGH TO DUBLIN. 145 bay was covered with the canvass of vessels ; each improving hke ourselves, a favourable change in the wind to leave the port of Dublin. Most of these were distinguished by the flags of their respective countries ; — and I could not avoid smiling at a whim- sical contrast between a Norwegian brig deeply laden, and constructed seemingly durmg the earliest rudiments of ship-building, and a stately American ship, outward-bound for New-Vork, which was ploughing gallantly through the waters, — ' as though she wore the ocean-crown.' — The ' star-spangled banner,' which flaunted gaily from her mast-head, I beheld with a throb of pride. Towards night the wind freshened and the coast began rapidly to recede. Having remained on deck during most of the afternoon, I descended to the cabin at eight in the evening ; when casting a last glance at Lambay Isle and the mountains of Wicklow, I bade adieu to dear Erin, — probably, forever. Dawn found us near the Isle of Man. The shore is rocky and bold, and we coasted very near it. This island is thirty miles long, and about twelve broad. In its general aspect it is rugged and hilly, and very much resembles Anglesea. Most of the highest grounds seem covered with furze and other small under-wood. There were no trees which I could discern, and the captain asserts that there are none upon the island. This of course cannot be strictly true. The more level tracts appeared well cultivated ; and the whole island seemed populous. 13 146 EXCURSION FROJVf We saw very plainly the towns of Castleton, Douglass and Laxy ; — and sailed so near to the second of these that we descried people passing on horseback or on foot along the strand. The town is pleasantly built ; and is situated at the head of a small semi-circular cove. The duke of Athol has a iine seat near it, which the captain says — for he is hiy oracle just now — is occupied ' by the bishop :' — I suppose he means the bishop of Sodor and Man. The house is situated near the water's edge and is built in the castellated style ; — in front of it is erect- ed a low fort surmounted by a parapet, — a fit emblem, it might be thought, of a church militant. Near the small town of Laxy, and apparently, above it, I noticed a lake of considerable size. From the position in which I viewed it, it seemed in momentary readiness to overleap its banks and pour itself upon the village below. It is now about noonday. The wind has continued fresh ; and an half hour ago, we parted from the island standing over from Maughraid's head direct to Whitehaven, distant twenty-five miles. We hope to reach it in three hours. My accommodations onboard are tolerable ; nothing better. The captain is disposed to be obliging enough ; but as commander of a vessel, seems destitute of skill, and some other needful qualifica- tions. He kept his birth almost the whole of last night, even during his own watch, which was from 12 to 4 o'clock. What aggravated this criminal EDINBURGH TO DUBLIN. 147 neglect of duty was the circumstance that the mate of the vessel was drunk, and had been so ever smce our weighing anchor. 2 P. M. — The weather having been cloudy all day, we did not come within sight of the English coast as soon as 1 had hoped. St. Bee's Head, a large high bluff, was the first land which we descried ; and then it was scarcely five miles distant. The captain has since been employing all hands in unlading the brig of its ballast to save eighteen shil- lings, or a pound, which he would be otherwise obliged to pay to have it removed from the vessel on his getting into harbour. The consequence is that she rolls with considerable violence, and if the wind should increase, the result might be much more unpleasant. Whitehaven is the Newcastle of Cumberland. Its coal mines are very valuable, and have been extensively worked. It is said that the miners in following several horizontal veins of coal, after sinking the perpendicular shaft to a great depth, have opened passages fairly under the sea ; that is to say, to a considerable distance without the line of low water mark. Admitting this report to be true, it is singular to reflect that in entering the harbour of Whitehaven, we may be sailing above the heads of human beings, who some hundred feet at least beneath us, are digging unsuspectingly, in ' the bowels of the harmless earth.' 14« EXCURSION FROM COCERMOUTH, ClTMBERLAirD Co. SATURDAY EVENIKC. At three P. M. we dropt anchor in the little port of Whitehaven, and the next minute found me once more upon English ground. This was a pleasure of no sm ill kind ; and in stepping foot again upon the soil of that country, which contains much that I prize, and more that I admire, I could not refrain from repeating to myself, — ' England, with all thy faults, I love thee still/ The same rich verdure which renders the fields of Ireland so lovely, I found mantling the hills of Cumherland. The country, too, immediately round Wliitehaven is intersected with low embankments of earth, clothed with a fine green turf, instead of hedges of thorn ;• — in the same manner as are most of the enclosed lands which I saw m Ireland. The quays of Whitehaven are numerous and excellent ; but the town itself boasts of little beauty. The poorer inhabitants, whether men, women, or chil- dren, wear large clumsy, wooden shoes, which make a very disagreeable clattering as they tread the pavement ; but disagreeable as the sound is, I am much more pleased with it, than being obliged to see the same classes of people, walking the streets barefoot, as is the case among the Irish. Repairing to an inn, I learnt that no coaches would proceed to Keswick before Monday ; — a place which 'i wish much to take in my route to Edinburgh —and finding also no post-horses disengaged I was obliged, though very reluctantly, to make up my EDINBURGH TO DUBLIN. 149 mind to stay in Whitehaven over Sunday. But my inquietude was of short continuance. A few mi- nutes after, a vehicle, precisely similar to the Irish jingle, drove to the door ; and on going to the window from the impulse of curiosity, wondering how these singular machines should have found their way into England, I ascertained, with surprise and pleasure, that it was an accommodation convejance, which was stopping to take in passengers for Cocer- mouth, a small town, somewhat more than half way to Keswick. — All this, by the by, though a stated daily arrangement, the good landlord, for very obvi- ous reasons, had taken care not to apprise me of himself. — Finding one unoccupied seat, I immediate- ly threw my valise into the vehicle, and the next in- stant it drove off. Of the other three passengers, one was a native of Keswick, and just landed from the Isle of Man ; — a very intelligent and pleasant companion. He was familiar with the road, and being rather more communicative than Englishmen generally are, gave me muchfinformation of places and things as we drove along. The road, for the first three or four miles, fol- lowed pretty closely the coast ; but afterwards, diverged into the interior of the country. The face of this was hilly and waving but by no means mountainous. We passed a few villages, the houses of which, exhibited a neat appearance. Nume- rous farm-houses and cottages also, were scattered in every direction, and in front of most of them 13 * 150 EXCURSION FROM might be seen little lawns, or gardens, or shrub- beries. The women whom we passed were all neat, and those that were young, bonnie and blooming, — materially improv^ed in this respect contrasted with the Irish. After a ride of eight miles, we came in view of the Derwentwater, — a coy little stream, — rolling its amber waters over a bed of pebbles, and mean- dering through a succession of richly enamelled meads. It accompanied us during the remainder of the way, and amused me much by its playfulness and prattling. One mile further I caught the first glimpse of Skiddaw. It is not, as 1 conceived, a single mountain rising in a lofty cone, but a broken, towering chain of highlands. Loose, lazy clouds were floating around their summits, alternately veil- ing, and disclosing them to view. As we proceed- ed, the scenery rose in character, assuming at every step, a more composed and statelier air, and after a delightful ride of fourteen miles, which gave ample presage of higher satisfactions in prospect, I was set down at the door of a pubUc house which pro- mised all the accommodations which a fatigued tra- veller might wish. KESWICK, ' ROYAL OAK,' MAY 4tH. What those accommodations were, — in other words, what is meant in general by the boasted con- veniences of an English inn, — those only can well understand, who have actually experienced them. EDINBURGH TO DUBLIN. 15t The house in which I lodged last night, was no ways remarkably good ; indeed, comparatively indiiferent, yet it fully redeemed the promise which I have said it made on my alighting. To any one of equally plain habits and tastes with myself, it might be enough to refer, as some evidence of this, to the sup- per table, which ' rose like an exhalation' before me within ten minutes after my arrival, — being spread with the finest trout from the Derwent, the best Cumberland mutton, sparkling Ulverstone ale, and port of excellent body and racy flavour. But after all, perhaps the greatest recommendation of an En- glish inn, is the excellence of its beds ; — these are luxurious indeed, and last night I occupied one which Juno might have envied, with all the roses and -myrtles of Ida or Olympus for her couch. But this, en passant. Early in the morning, I walked out to survey the town of Cocermouth. It is situated on the Derwent ; is irregularly built, and very old in appearance. The immense ruins of a once noble castle, grey with moss, and finely clothed with ivy, crown an eminence which adjoins the town, and overhangs the river. The pile, now the property of Lord Egremont, was once baronial, and a place of great strength : erected as a defence against the predatory border inroads of the Scotch. At the hour of divine service I went to church ; it was well attended ; and the exercises throughout, were conducted with great solemnity and decorum. 1^2 EXCURSION FROM The sermon was delivered by a young man, and possessed much merit. It was chaste and nervous in style, replete with excellent sentiments, and de- livered with judicious action, and a modest, manly tone of voice. The church is very antique, and presents a number of curious old monuments, which are ranged around the interior of its walls. Being anxious to contmue my route northward with as little delay as possible, early in the after- noon I mounted a horse, and in company with the gentleman who was my feilow passenger from Whitehaven yesterday, proceeded towards this place. A ride of such varied beauty and grandeur for an equal distance I never before enjoyed. The road on leaving C. soon entered the mountains ; and continued either winding along their feet, or climb- ing and skirting their acclivities, the residue of the way. Proceeding two or three miles, we descended into the beautiful vale of Lorton. It is an extensive and well cultivated tract, enclosed on all sides by high and steep mountains. The pretty village of Lorton, with its venerable church, stands in the cen- tre ; and at the extremities of the valley, are two or three neat hamlets. Near the latter, were seve- ral very flourishing plantations of larches. As we rode along, I noticed the sycamore, (New-England balm of Gilead,) the willow, (called in this neigh- bourhood, the palm,) and the pear-tree, in full leaf. The hedges of hawthorn and privet displayed also a luxuriant foliage. Over them the wild honey- EDINBURGH TO DUBLIN. 153 suckle was creeping : and on the green turf beneath, the daisy, violet, and primrose smiled in full bioom. Passing from the vale of Lorton, we penetrated hills of a sterner grandeur than those which we had left. For a considerable distance not a single enclo- sure appeared, and scarcely a defile fit for cultiva- tion, except where some mountain brook dashed from the precipice, and furrowed an opening amidst the opposing crags. These streams were frequent ; and from their channels it is evident, are always much swollen by spring and autumnal rains. The hills presented every species of bold and massive forms. The clouds as they floated heavily by, cast their long dark shadovv s upon them ; and these often produced a tine effect by falling at the feet of one of the highest, and ascending by a slow solemn motion to its very summit. Presently, the harsh features of the landscape immediately around us, began to soften into a milder expression. The russet tints of the little vegeta- tion, which had remained gradually disappeared : — glades of verdant grass disputed the soil with the heath, and whin, — which extending their surface, at length stretched into rich pastures on which flocks of sheep were feeding, enlivening the scene with their gambols, and regaling the ear with their beils. The shepherds whom 1 saw, were generally attend- ed with a pair of dogs of a remarkably strong and active breed, and distinguished for their wonderful sagacity. Several striking proofs of the latter quali- 154 EXCURSION FROM ty, I accidentally witnessed ; and judging from these and other indications, 1 could not help thinking that these humble animals would hardly have suffered in the comparison of their instinct, with the reason of the masters whom they served. The right of pasturing sheep upon the uninclosed tracts along the hill sides in this neighbourhood, belongs equally to all freeholders in the adjoining parishes. It is given to them when they receive leases of their lands. On the ride, I occasionally noticed a raven, after sailing round the peaks of the mountains, poising for a time over a certain spot ; and my companion told me, that it was watching to seize and prey upon some young lamb. These birds, he represented as ex- ceedingly voracious and bold. 1 he country at length opened somewhat, and dis- closed more perfectly the bold outlme of Skiddaw ; near the base of which, our road conducted us. Be- yond and directly in front, arose majestically the towering heights of Helvellyn ; and further to the right, the lofty undulating ridge of the Borrowdale mountains. Besides these,, numerous other steep hills and fells appeared in every direction, all form- ing one vast amphitheatre, which enclosed within its magnificent amplitude, the matchless vale of Kes- wick. But before dwelling upon the beauties of this ely- sium, I must return to the point, where the whole valley, to most of which Keswick gives name, open- EDINBURGH TO DUBLIN. 1^5 ed first on the view. My companion, 1 would here remark, with genuine native enthusiasm, had pre- viously assured me that I should find the scene, which would be there unfolded, the most beautiful which I had ever witnessed ; and in that he was not mistaken. Turning a sudden angle in the road, I first discern- ed the little lake of Bassenthwaite, reposing beneath Skiddaw, and reflecting from its placid bosom, the purple shadows of that stupendous mountain. Skid- dawdale next appeared ; e^ pretty extent of meads which spread themselves along its borders, and for some distance into the valley. A rivulet was seen issuing from the Bassenthwaite and hurrying through the dale, as if eager to bear its crystal tribute to the Derwent lake near Keswick. It was a modest stream, and seemed to shrink from observation, oc- casionally concealing entirely its waters among the windings which it pursued. But The matted grass ******* with livelier green Betrayed the secret of its silent course. The valley of K. encircled by the mountains, I have already named commences with this lake of Bassenthwaite and the adjacent meads. Thence, it extends six or eight miles ; and embraces a beauti- fully varied landscape, in the centre of which stands the town of Keswick, not far from the lake of that name ; called also indifferently, the lake of Derwent. It terminates with the romantic hamlet 156 E-XCURSIO]N~ FIXOM of Grange, at the mouth of the wild pass which opens into the crags of Borrowdale. The whole of this valley is decked with the richest cultivation ; and even at this early season, it presents some of the softest and loveliest tints, which I ever saw spread over the face of nature. Its beauty is strikingly heightened by the savage grandeur of the surround- ing mountains. Indeed, they each add powerfully by contrast to the effect of the other. The valley is populous. Several villages are scattered over it ; each distinguished by the grey tower of its church ; while around, in every direc- tion, may be seen white cottages, and farm-houses, and country seats, some of them indeed, partly im- bosomed among trees or screened by creeping shrubs ; but all serving to vary the expression, and heighten the romantic beauty of the landscape. Keswick lake is an irregular sheet of water, about three miles in length. Its clearly defined border, is prettily edged with trees ; and several islands which dot its surface, are also well wooded. The appearance of these islands is highly picturesque ; and they are happily disposed for the effect of per- spective. On one of them, a little country-box has lately been erected. Its attic, just peeping from a hood of larches, is all however which is presented to the eye. It was after five, P. M. when we reached Kes- wick. Having dined, I rambled out and took a bird's- eye survey of the town and environs. I soon found EDINBURGfl TO DUBLIN. 157 myself upon the beach of the lake ; and lingered among the enchanting beauties of the scene, till twi- light veiled them from my view. May 5. — Rising betimes, I bent my steps towards the pass of Borrowdale. It was the ' hour of prime,' and truly, — fioS'iS'cucrvXoi m; — a ' rosy fingered morn.' The sun indeed was hardfy risen, but the dappled east gave presage of his near approach. The air breathed a balmy fragrance ; — not a ripple played upon the surface of the lake ; — all around was peaceful and motionless. Leaving the town of Keswick, I entered upon a path which followed closely the margin of the Der- went, — keeping it on the right. Skiddaw was behind, — his summit grey with the morning mists ; — Helvel- lyn further off on the left rose towering in his pride ; — like a giant, overtopping the vassal heights which encircled him. A walk of a mile or two brought me to a thick wood, which presented a luxuriant, native growth of oak, beech, ash, birch, poplar and elder. These trees abound in the neighbourhood of the lake ; — indeed, throughout the vally of K. there is much of woodland, and some of it in the finest order. — Se- veral beautiful rills, spanned by rustic little bridges, crossed my path. The noise of their waterfalls, breaking upon the ear, relieved the stillness of morning. But soon the warbling of the sky-lark was heard, a prelude to a general concert which burst from every hedge and thicket and wood. 14 m EXCURSION FROM The road at length conducted to a champaigii tract, which was spread at the feet of a steep emi- nence on the left ; the latter rather barren as well as rugged. A shepherd — or I should say, his busier dog, — was leading a small flock to the hill side to clip the little herbage which it yielded. As I con- tinued my walk, the valley narrowed, though what remained of it was still lovely. The hill on the other hand, under which I was passing, assumed a sterner aspect ; and gradually changed to a perpendicular ridge of cliffs, forming a solid wall of many hundred feet in height. Large masses of rocks which had been dislodged in conflicts of the elements, and tumbled from a fearful elevation, were strown along the way-side; and in some places they almost entirely blocked the passage. Further on, the Fall of Low- dore presented itself. There was little about it, to attract attention. The stream being low, all that it exhibited was a narrow strip of foam sliding down a rocky declivity, of an hundred and fifty feet or more, and falling with a gentle murmur upon a bed of smoothly chafed pebbles. From the breadth of the channel however, it is obvious, that the body of wa- ter must be greatly increased in seasons of freshes. At such times the aspect of things is doubtless mate- rially changed ; — and the Fall of Lowdore, now so gentle and pretty, it then transformed into a wild and terrible cataract. Approaching the entrance into Borrowdale, I paus- ed to admire the little hamlet of Grange. A scene EDINBURGH TO DUBLIN. 15d SO perfectly picturesque, considering all its accom- paniments, I think I never beheld. The cots were clustered on the margin of a softly flowing current whose waters were clear to transparency. A group of aged pines threw their dark shadows over them ; •—a few yards distant, an old bridge partly dilapidat- ed, but which aided admirably the effect of the land- scape, connected the opposite banks of the little river; around the hamlet were several neatly trim- med gardens ; — and far down the valley extended a succession of rich pastures and fertile meads, where- on herds of cattle were straying, and the peasantry actively plying their morning labours. The whole scene was in harmony : — its features were happily blended ; and over the whole there was an air of Claude-like softness which was inexpressibly lovely. Nothing however could be more striking than the contrast which this scene bore to the savage aspect of the mountain glens within which I was entering. The beautiful and the picturesque soon vanished ; and 1 found myself enclosed within a defile hemmed on all sides by lofty, precipitous crags, or hills scarcely less rugged and bleak. So sudden and en- tire was the change that the whole seemed the ef- fect of magic. The impression moreover made by the objects a little before witnessed remaining fresh and vivid, and the path which I was pursuing, con- tinuing to wind among fells and passes, the features of which at every step became wilder, — 1 could not help looking back in recollection upon the dale J6<> EXCURSION FROM of Grange, with some such feelings as Mirzah must have gazed upon the happy abodes of the blest. — The comparison indeed failed most in the objects which immediately surrounded me ; for if the mountains of Bagdad are as sterile as those of Borrowdale, that, forsooth, must have been a moody fancy which induced a contemplatist to select them as the scene of devotional meditations. The Fells of Borrowdale are singularly precipi- tous and abrupt. They crowd too so much upon one another that the defiles which separate them are very narrow, and greatly obstructed with the rocky fragments which often fall from the neighbouring acclivities. The mountains being chiefly composed of slate, at least in their external structure, splinters and indeed heavy masses are easily disintegrated ; and the ravages committed in their descent are sometimes very terrible. Their summits and sides are mostly bare, and exhibit only here and there a tinge of green : — a few blades of grass perhaps, or a patch of stinted heath. — The birch however, as usual, persists in as- serting his claim to the scanty soil which is left : — and it was curious to see a fearless little sapling, among some of the topmost crags, where only the eagle would build her aerie — thrusting its slender branches through the yawning clefts, and waving sportingly in the wind. With difficulty I clambered an eminence, near an high steep called Castle crag, and sheltering myself EDINBURGH TO DUBLIN. 16i from the wind under a ledge of rocks, contemplated for some time the scene around ; and the impressions which it has left upon my mind can never be erased. The clouds which had previously lowered seemed to assume an angrier cast, and threw a peculiar gloom over every object. The wind swept through the crags in hoarse sullen murmurs ; — above, an ea- gle was sailing round a cliff, and occasionally pierc- ing the air with its cry ; — near me a mountain stream dashed from the rocks, and rushed furiously into a ra- vine beneath ; — not the slightest trace of a hu- man habitation, nor in fact, of a human foot-step, (excepting along the half-beaten tract by which I had entered the pass,) appeared, on any side ; — even the sheep which had been seen browsing on Skiddaw, and near the feet of Helvellyn, had deserted this frightful waste, and the whole seemed condemned to sterility, and designed as the very seat of desola- tion. The scene was one on which the genius of Salvator might have loved to riot, — but for myself, were it possible, I should prefer to contemplate it when transferred to the canvass, than again behold it in its native wildness and deformity. — In fact, my feel- ings were never so powerfully affected by any scene before ; and I can truly say that all my imagination had ever depicted of the sublime in natural objects fell short of what I now saw and/e/t. What impres- sion indeed, an alpine scene would excite, as yet I know not ; but that scene must be awfully grand which can swyass in effect the solemn wildness 14* 162 EXCURSION FROM which reigns over this pass and the surrounding fells of Borrovvdale.* * The little which I have since viewed has not induced me to substract a single iota from the above description, and that given in a former page, of the impressions naturally produced by a view of the mountain scenery of Keswick, and its environs. It possesses a character perfectly distinctive and ' sui generis ;' and although differing in expression is nowise inferior in effect to many of the stronger features of the alpine landscape. — There is such a thing as having too much of mountain ; and I refer to any traveller who has visited the Vale of Chamounifor the truth of this remark. As seen from there, Mont Blanc and his imperial brotherhood appear inordinately and disproportiona- fely huge ; — and the reason obviously is, that while they are thus immensely enlarged, the other objects in their neighbourhood retain their natural dimensions, and consequently exhibit a con- trast which borders not a little on the ludicrous. — The river Arve though respectable enough in itself, seems nothing more than a paltry brook : — the tall firs which wave upon the acclivities of the mountains dwindle into insignificant shrubs ; — the valley of Chamouni narrows into a Scottish glen : — and the town in the centre, a short distance off, has the appearance of a group of martin boxes. But, in remarking in general upon the disappointing effect of Alpine scenery, I wish to be understood as excepting the vale and neighbourhood of Geneva. No view on earth perhaps, can rival the combined beauty and grandeur of the latter, as displayed from Mont St. Claude on the Jura ; — and this precisely for the reason that every object properly harmonises for the effect of the whole perspective. I never can forget the impression produced upon me, when from that summat, the valley with its stupendous girdle of mountains was first descried. Just then the declining sun was gilding tlie distant glaciers of the Alps. Mont Blanc and Mont Rosa were sufficiently removed to bear a due proportion to the surrounding object?. The nearer Alps matched perfectly EDINBURGH TO DUBLIN. 163 Descending the hill, I prepared to retrace my steps, — satisfied with what I had seen of Borrow- dale's mountains and defiles. A second view of the dale and hamlet of Grange confirmed the impres- sions which its beauty had before excited. Near the edge of it I passed a peasant cutting peats ; — a fuel however which he said is little used by the vil- lagers or any of the neighbouring inhabitants. Coals and wood are chiefly burnt; — and are preferred both for cheapness and usefulness. Near the town of Keswick, I was met by a buxom damsel who, with a face tinged with a bloom which Hebe might have envied, came bounding along, skipping a slack rope, and showing more of her legs in the exercise than comported with the most femi- nine modesty : — her hose I would have said, but this would have been a licence of speech on a par with a Highlander's knee-buckle. She paused on my pas- sing, and dropt her head to conceal, as I thought, a blush ; — but, in this I was doubtless mistaken, for a moment after, she commenced again with an agihty which would have done honour to Harlequin. ^vith the valley beneath ; which latter throughout its extent was embellished with tints of the richest magnificence ; whilst the lake, stretching to an immense distance, till lost in the mountains of the Vallais and the Pays de Vaud, resembled, at the height! viewed it, a broad majestic river. — Ovid's — Speluncae, vivique lacus, et Tempe amocna, — would have expressed well a part of the scene; but better, tf coupled with, Nubiferi Monies, et saxa rainantia coelo. 164 EXCURSION FROM The public clock was striking eleven as I entere d Keswick. The many satisfactions which I had ex- perienced on my ramble rendered me in some de- gree insensible to its length and fatigue ; but on the • whole I was nowise unwilling to take up for a while with other enjoyments, and suspend the gratification of gazing upon valleys and rocks and mountains for the substantial comforts and refreshing shelter of the ^ Royal Oak.' I had resolved yesterday upon ascending Helvel* lyn to-day should I have ascertained the attempt to be practicable ; — but it is represented as attended with so much danger and labour, particularly at this season of the year, that I have abandoned the thought entirely. The chief difficulty is in the heavy clouds, which often suddenly come over its summit, rendering a safe return almost impossible. A year or two ago, a strong experienced young man, well acquainted with the mountain, attempted a journey over it, and being overtaken in this man- ner, was unable to find his way down and perished. The justice of these representations I saw signally exemplified, on leaving the pass of Borrowdale. Thick mists suddenly rolled over the heights which I had just left, and in a few minutes completely con- cealed their summits. What enhances the danger in such an extremity is the number of precipices which occur at irregular intervals, down which a person is liable to fall, without being apprised a mo- ment before of his danger. EDINBURGH TO DUBLIN. 165 To one contemplating the effect at a distance, there is something strikingly grand in the appea- rance which these clouds exhibit when investing the mountain tops. The face of the heavens has been seldom free from them during any part of the day ; — and in returning from my morning's walk, I often lingered to behold them sweeping majestical- ly along, and throwing their loose aerial drapery over the summits of the surrounding mountains. But Keswick, as is well known boasts other at- tractions than the charms of its landscape. It is dis- tinguished by being the residence of Mr. S. the poet laureat ; and a fitter place for wooing the ' coy muse,' he could not have selected. Her favourite Helicon did not offer a better. — This gentleman is chief of a trio who constitute what is termed the Lake school of Poetry : — their different but equally eccentric tastes, and brilhant powers of mind hav- ing introduced and given celebrity to, an order of composition of a peculiar and novel character. I had anticipated the satisfaction of a personal inter- view with Mr S. ; but on arriving in Keswick, was disappointed in learning that he was absent in Lon- don on the famous ' Wat Tyler' affair. PENRITH, 10 p. M, At one o'clock in company with a Swedish tra- veller, I left Keswick for this place distant eighteen miles. Two miles from the former on the summit of a hill near the road, we stopped to examine a Druidical remam. It is of an oval form ; the great' 166 EXCURSION FROM est diameter being about 150 feet in length. The stones which compose the figure are chiefly stand- ing ; they are ranged at some distance apart, and are about six feet above the ground. It is probable, however, that they have sunk considerably, owing to their weight, and the long period in which they have remained in their present position. In the centre of the circle is a clump of small larches ; and on one side is a massive flat stone, which an anti- quary would doubtless have pointed out as the old altar. Instead, however, of the ferocious priests who once celebrated thereon the rites of their hor- rid superstition, and fattened the soil around with the blood of human victims, the only living crea- tures which we saw, on entering the area, were a few sheep, that were fieeding peaceably upon the green sward. Pursuing our route we often looked back upon the retiring vale of Keswick. Distance, as it soft- ened, seemed to add new loveliness to its features. The rich meads of Newdale and St. Johnsdale, which next appeared,- — watered by the hmpid Greta, pleased us very much. Saddleback, a huge mis- hapen lump of a mountain, soon came in sight. Though possessing little beauty in its general as- pect, in point of magnitude it jields to none of the English mountains, with the exception of Helvellyn. Our road conducted us along its base. Near Threlkeld, we noticed the effects of the bursting of a surcharged thunder-cloud : — the water having committed frightful ravages in its descent into the EDINBURGH TO DUBLIN. 167 valley. Approaching Penrith we traversed some extensive downs ; covered, as usual, by fine flocks of sheep. Saddleback, as we receded from it, looked bolder than on a first view. Its top is nak* ed, a circumstance which rather adds to its gran- deur, instead of diminishing it. It shows more dis- tinctly its outline ; and in one or two points of view discloses with tolerably good effect the stu- pendous masses of rocks which crown its summit. Near the town of Penrith are the extensive ruins of a castle. It is constructed of red free stone, which, a short distance off, resembles brick. Its appearance, of course, is very indifferent ; and it is destitute moreover of ivy, moss and other usual mourning habiliments of English Castle ruins. — To an American, the frequency of these ruins is truly astonishing. England especially abounds with them ; and wherever the traveller goes, he is sure to meet with them. Sometimes, and particularly in certain stages of decay, they greatly embellish the landscape. Abbey ruins also, are occasionally seen ; and they form a feature entirely distinct, but equal- ly picturesque with the former. An American, however, whatever satisfaction there may be to the eye, in surveying these objects, has little reason to regret the want of them in his own country. They are all the mournful monuments of the mutations of human prosperity ; — and many of them to an English- man, are standing remembrancers of events which he would gladly consign to oblivion. — The finest of these 168 EXCURSION FROM ruins, whether castle or abbey, which the tourist meets with in his rambles through this country, he owes to the violence of the two most tyrannic ru- lers, who ever governed England ; — the former to the cannon of Cromwell, and the latter to the rapa- city of Henry 8th. Penrith is rather a mean-looking town. The red freestone of which its houses are built, gives it a dingy and disagreeable appearance ; although it answers better for houses than for castles. It is an ancient town, and was formerly claimed and held by the Scots. The English however, at length succeeded, not only in disputing their title to it, but in removing their border thirty miles fur- ther north. The river Emont flows a short distance from the town. While dinner was preparing I walked to it, and visited also the frontier village of Westmore- land ; — the river forming the boundary line here between the counties of Cumberland and W. On the north bank of the Emont are two spacious caves, of narrow and difficult entrance, dug from the solid rock, — which it is supposed were intended as places of safety during the incursions of the Scots. However this may be, the latter also have found it convenient to avail themselves of similar precautions in times of English invasions. Not long since, visiting the do- main of Roslin, I explored three caverns which have been excavated with incredible labour, from a rock which overhangs the north Esk, about a mile distant EDINBURGH TO DUBLIN. 16» from the castle. The largest is ninety feet long, and communicates with the other caves ; the outer entrance being from the face of the rock towards the river by a ladder which was drawn up and let down at pleasure. Those caverns, it is reported, have often afforded shelter to the family and weaker tenantry of Roslin. — Happy it is for the cause of humanity, as well as for the interests of the two kingdoms, that neither these, nor other mutual de- fences are requisite for the security of their respec- tive inhabitants ; — that one common throb of nation- al feeling beats responsive in every bosom ; — and that the stranger now searches uncertainly for the border line, which formerly was traced in blood from Berwick bay to the Frith of Solway. HAWICK, MAY, 6tH. Adjoining Penrith, is an high hill which com- ' mands an excellent view of the country, for a wide circuit. The morning proving uncommonly clear, I was induced at an early hour to ascend it, and was amply repaid for the exertion. The hill stands within a park, or rather, chase, belonging to the Earl of Lonsdale. Formerly, it served as a look-out, and was a very important station for that purpose. On its summit is a watch-tower in almost entire preservation. It is constructed with immense- ly thick walls, through which are a few loopholes, the only inlets of light, excepting at the door -en- trance. I noticed on one of the stones the date of 15 170 EXCl/RSION FROM 1719 ; — but its actual erection was probably at a much earlier period. Similar towers are found at intervals along the whole extent of the Scotch and English marches. The view from the height embraced no less than seven counties ; and on every side was terminated by a noble perspective of distant mountains. Cum- berland and Westmoreland, with their fertile and picturesque tracts, were spread beneath ; — beyond, extended Lancaster and a part of Yorkshire ; — in the east appeared the blue heights of Northumberland and Durham ; and far in the north, the Cheviot Hills of Scotland. The latter I hailed with peculiar satisfaction ; for they seem to be my own ; — and to Caledonia I turned with something at least of the affection of a step-son. Among the nearer objects in the landscape it gave me pleasure to distinguish Ulswater ; — which next to Keswick, is reputed to be the prettiest of all the pretty lakes in this romantic region. I had looked for it last evening, but was prevented from discerning it, by a mist which hung over its surface. It was now plainly perceptible throughout its extent ; — its ' deep line,' including ' promontory, creek and bay,' being marked with singular precision ; and its waters, under the radiance of the morning sun, pre- senting ' one burnished sheet of living gold.' At eight o'clock, 1 left Penrith in the stage coach for Hawick, a journey of sixty miles. Between P. and Carlisle the country presented few objects of attention. In general, its face was diversified with EDINBURGH TO DUBLIN. 171 rich, long swells, mostly well cultivated. A few patches of woodland appeared, and our road lay through Inglewood Forest, so called : a tract, how- ever, which little deserves the appellation. I was rather pleased than otherwise with the first view of Carlisle. Several large public buildings, which have recently been erected, contribute to mod- ernise somewhat its appearance : but still it looks very old, as it is. Formerly, it was strongly fortified ; —but its walls, excepting on one side, are in a state of decay. The portion which remains is used by the proprietors of the neighbouring soil as a garden wall; and the fruit trees which they have trained against it, thrive uncommonly well. The castle also which anciently was a fortress of great strength, is at present going fast to ruin. Only a part of it is kept in tolerable repair, and that for the accommodation of a few soldiers who are appointed to garrison it. As the coach was delayed an hour at Carlisle, I employed the interval in visiting this castle ; — and a more venerable and imposing pile is hardly to be met with in Great Britian. It forms one great quad- rangle, the outer circuit of its walls being not less than half a mile. The inclosed area is now covered with a turf of the liveliest verdure ; — so fresh and smooth that no bowling green in England can surpass it in beauty. The matted ivy is seen creeping over its wall in the wildest luxuriance, as if to conceal the ravages which time and the tempest are continually augmenting ; and along its ramparts the rank grast grows profusely, interspersed with numberless wall- 172 EXCURSION FROM flowers, which are now in perfection and exhale the choicest fragrance. The castle, with a citadel which was recently standing, was built by William Rufus ; and during the repairs which it has undergone at successive periods since, the original plan of its con- struction has in most respects been adhered to. — Of the many transactions which mark its long and event- ful history, one of the most painful and interesting, is the confinement within its walls, of the unhappy Mary, Queen of Scots. I looked into the apartments which she occupied. They are in a round tower, which, though partly dilapidated, has not suffered so much as other portions of the castle. Some lumber and a few pieces of rude furniture are ranged around them ; and the walls and floor are thickly covered with cobwebs and dust. From the battlements of the tower a view is obtained of the hills of Dumfrie- shire in Scotland ; — objects the sight of which must have administered little comfort to the captive, ill fated Queen. The ancient keep of the castle re- mains, and a well of great depth is also shown, the work, as it is supposed, of the Romans. Returning from the castle I visited the cathedral, a venerable structure, partly of Saracenic and partly of Gothic architecture. On the screens in the aisles, I no- ticed some singular and amusing legendary paintings of St. Augustine and St. Anthony, with a doggerel distich attached to each. Turning from these, I sought the tomb of Paley ; but I sought it in vain among the ' storied urns and animated busts,' which were rang- EDINBURGH TO DUBLIN. 173 ed ostentatiously along the aisles and transepts of the cathedral. ' But is there no monument to Paley?' inquired I, of the verger who attended me. — 'His ashes are under you,' he repHed, and in truth they were. Stepping aside I traced on a plain grey slab in the pavement on which 1 had been standing, this simple inscription ; — ' Here lie interred the remains of Wm. Paley, D. D., who died May 25th, 1805, aged 62 years. '-—This imperfect memorial is all that marks the spot, which is consecrated by the mortal remains of one of the purest Christians, and soundest philosophers of his age and country. His works however survive him ; — and they will abide an im- perishable record of his worth j — monumentum, Quod non imber edax, non Aquilo impotens Possit diiuere, aut innunnerabilis Annorum series, et fuga temporum. A monument, which Nor 3'-ears though numberless the train, Nor flight of seasons, wasting rain. Nor winds, that loud in tempest break, Shall e'er its firm foundation shake. Francis' Hor : The famous Roman wall which was built from sea to sea, passed within a quarter of a mile of Carlisle. It is said that the city owes its name to this circum- stance ; Carhsle being compounded of the Saxon words caer lyell^ which mean a city near a wall. Re- mains of this stupendous work are very perceptible in the neighbourhood. 15* . 174- EXCURSION FROM Leaving' Carlisle, another stage brought us io Longtown, a frontier town, where we stopped to dine. Four miles further, we entered Scotland, at a place called the Scots Dyke ; — leaving Gretna Green, of hymeneal memory, at a little distance on our left. The stage to Langholm was delightful; — the road leading along the romantic windings of Esk-daie, and crossing its pretty river some five or six times in the course of as many miles. What added to its interest, was the circumstance of its traversing the scene of Lady Heron's song in Marmion. Ne- therby Hall was passed, a little way to our right : after which we entered on Canobie Lea whereon was the ' racing and chasing,' when the fair Ellen eloped with young lord Lochinvar. It was impossible also to forget the renowned Johnny Armstrong, in viewing spots rendered memorable by his exploits ; — and approaching Langholm, 1 did not fail to look out for Hallows Tower, formerly the residence of this redoubtable hero. Near Mosspaul, we crossed a ridge of land which separates the waters that flow east and west. The Esk had left us at Langholm ; but it sent on a little branch which accompanied us a few miles and strug- gled hard, though in vain, to hold out further. Its loss however was not long perceived, — for soon ano- ther rill was seen purlmg by the way side, and pur- suing an opposite direction. This was the Teviot, just in the commencement of its career. 1 had be- held the stream only once before, and then at Kelso, EDINBURGH TO DUBLIN. 175 where it mingles its waters with the Tweed. Its appearance there was very respectable ; — and con- trasting it with its present infantile aspect, it would have required a rare degree of physiognomical skill to have traced any resemblance in its features, or other marks of its identity. This stream gives name to one of the most romantic dales in Scotland, and after dispensing fertility and beauty throughout its own course, and swelling not a little the waters of the Tweed, at length enters the sea by an outlet, an hundred miles distant from the mouth of the Esk. Before reaching Hawick, we crossed the Teviot two or three times. The last was by Branxholm bridge ; — the road a little before having passed within a few yards of Branxholm castle, or more properly, house. This is the Branksome of Walter Scott. Its situation he has well described ; being, as he says, ' upon a steep bank, surrounded by the Teviot, and flanked by a deep ravine, formed by a precipitous brook.' In point of size, it must have been greatly reduced since the days of Margaret of Branksome ; and the various alterations which it has undergone have left it little of the castellated form, excepting one square, massive tower. It still, how- ever, is a spacious structure, having much of com- fort, though nothing of elegance in its appearance. Opposite to Branxholm is a hill which the poet's fancy has marvellously magnified into a mountain. It is the same which he introduces as conferring witli ' Teviot's tide,' in that whimsical colloquy be- 176 EXCURSION FROM tween the river and mountain spirits described in the First Canto to the ' Lay.' On the borders of the barony we beheld the con- fluence of the Borthwick and Teviot waters. — Leaving this, we passed Goldiland ruins ; — and a ride of two miles more brought us, late in the even- ing, to Hawick. May 1th. — At an early hour, the coach was again on the road. The morning light shewed imperfect- ly, as we drove from Hawick, an artificial eminence which Scott refers to, as tjjg moathiirs mound Where Druid forms once flitted round. It is conjectured to be a remain of Celtic antiquity ; and, if so, was probably a place of rendezvous for general councils from the adjacent clans. Similar heaps are not infrequent in north Britain. Ap- proaching Selkirk, we crossed Philiphaugh, memo- rable as the battle ground between the parliament forces and those of king Charles, when the latter under lord Dundee were routed after a short but very bloody action. A little beyond Selkirk, we came in sight of Et- trick, another of those classic streams which are the pride of the Lowlands. We next entered Tweed- dale and drove for some miles along it, crossing the river in two places. Of the streams which subse* quently met us, were the Gala, Lugate and Heriot EDINBURGH TO DUBLIN. 177 Waters,* which contributed much to vary and beau- tify the landscape. Our road at length brought us to Half Law Kiln ; — a place which the Romans are said to have occu- pied, as a military station. Traces of a camp, I was told^ are very visible : — but not having Monk- barns at my side, nor his ' Essay of Castrametation' in my hands, I was not so fortunate as to distinguish them. Shortly, however, a more interesting ob- ject appeared. This was Borthwick Castle, for- merly a princely fabric, and venerable in decay. Once, it was a place of shelter to injured royalty, and opened its gates to Queen Mary after the battle of Carberry Hill ; and once too, its walls imprison- ed the same princess when Bothwell succeeded in intercepting her on her route from Dumbarton. From this place during the remaining twelve miles of the journey, every object showed that we were approaching the proud metropolis of the north. — Cots and farm-houses, lodges and mansions, ham- lets and villages crowded the landscape in every di- rection. Passengers also on horse and foot, and carriages of various descriptions, — post-chaises, gigs, sociables, baro.uches, — began to throng the way. Descending Dalkeith hill, we entered Mid Lothian, the garden of Edinburgh ; and to me its fertile fields * The Scotch apply the term Water, to express a second- rate stream : a third-rate, they call Burn ; as Leith Water, Ban- UQck Burn. 178 EXCURSION TO DUBLIN. . and green parks and lordly manors seemed arrayed in new beauty. At length, Arthur's Seat was des- cried towering above the ' Gude Town ;' and to the left, appeared the grey ramparts of the castle. A nearer approach discovered Nelson's column crown- ing the summit of Calton : — St. Andrew's spire, and the towers ol St. Giles and the Tron next peered through the surrounding haze ; and last, though not least, the turrets of Holyrood glanced on the eye as the coach drove into a suburb of the city. Emerg- ing from the Old Town, we entered on the magnifi- cent bridge which connects it with the New, and soon arrived in front of the Register office. Here I alighted, and having found a porter, proceeded on foot along Prince's street. A turn to the right brought me further into the centre of the city ; and after a minute's walk, I had the satisfaction of re-en- tering my lodgings at the corner of north Hanover and George Streets. WAa^ s® M®aTm®®m WALK TO HOLYROOD. One of the first objects which claim the attention of the stranger in Edinburgh, is Holvrood-house. This structure, renowned as it is in the annals of Scottish story, I was not long in searching out after my arri- val in the city, and often in an evening walk, have I since found myself insensibly bending my way thi- ther, when it was difficult to define the impulse which prompted the direction of my steps. The connection of the name of the unhappy Queen Mary, with a few of the memorable events which its walls have witnessed, has doubtless had no little influence in deepening the interest with which I have contem- plated this venerable pile ; but the emotions whxh the sight of any monument of a remote and eventful age, either awakens, or is at least calculated to awaken, in the mind, are various in character, and naturally impressive and solemn. The main body, indeed, of Holyrood-house is not very ancient. Its erection cannot be traced back to an earlier date than the reign of Charles II. Origi- nally, it was a far more spacious and princely fabric, than at present it is ; but, what with the decays of 1« 182 WALK TO HOLYROOD. age, the fires of incendiaries, and the violences of in- furiated mobs, it has suffered numerous changes in the lapse of ages ; and though still a stately edifice, is circumscribed very materially in extent compared with its primitive limits. At the northwest angle are double circular towers, remaining in entire preservation, wherein are seve- ral apartments and state-rooms which James V. caused to be constructed, and which were occupied as part of the royal habitation, both during his reign, and that of his successor. His name is still to be seen in a niche under one of the turrets ; and this part of the building is all of it which has come down from so remote a period to the present, uninjured. The entrance is through an embattled gate-way, which in its style displays some magnificence, and communicates with a large area, two hundred and thirty feet square, which is enclosed on each side with the palace walls. A range of piazzas, or more strictly a continued facade, supported by Doric pillars, is built along the basement story which affords a kind of cloistered walk quite round the in- teriour of the pile. I cannot easily forget the impressions made upoti me, on my first visit to this lordly structure. As I entered the gateway, leading to the inner court, I passed a sentry, — a fine, manly fellow,— who was dressed in the full costume of the highland military. His tall bonnet and plume added much to his martial air and aspect ; nor was the effect diminished hy the WALK TO HOLYROOD. 183 Celtic accompaniments of tartan hose, a plaid kilt and naked knee. Above him, on the front wall of the portal, were carved the crown, thistle, and other appendages of the arms of Scotland; under which was emblazoned the proud motto, JVemo me impune lacessit. A janitor attended me to the quarters of an elderly, splenetic lady, who undertook, though with an ill- grace which the expected boon of a half-crown was not sufficient to repress, to conduct me through those apartments in the building which are most worthy of inspection. I was first taken to a large hall in which the Scot- tish peers are wont to convene when they elect six- teen from their number to represent their ' nobility' in the British parliament. It is adorned with the supposed portraits of all the kings of Scotland ; there being more than an hundred heads m the whole, most of which are fancy likenesses, or copies taken from the imperfect and rude stamps of antique coins. I took notice of a full-length portrait of Queen Mary, and one of her father James V., — ' the knight of Snow- don,' — each of which was originally well executed, but the colours have faded, and the paintings have otherwise been much injured. * It was doubtless invidious, not to say uncourteous, to mark the contrast, — which however was too pal- pable to escape observation, — ^between the features of the lovely Scottish princess, even amidst the shading and disguise of a defaced and dusty portrait, and the sallow countenance of my lady attendant, 184 WALK TO HOLYROOD. the expression of which seemed to assume new odiousness when confronted before beauty of such matchless grace. I know not what unlucky associa- tion brought to mind at that moment Ovid's whimsi- cal personification of Envy ; but as my eye glanced on the sour aspect and wrinkled visage of the moody dame by my side, who seemed to blench and wither under the peerless charms of Mary, I could not resist the temptation to apply to her with some slight alteration the sententious lines, Pallor in ore sedet ; macies in corpore toto ; JN'usquam recta acies ; intabescit que videndo Formosam Mariam. My conductress was hurrying me away to some of the more modern apartments of the palace when I intimated that further attentions would be excused, provided I was shewn the rooms in the circular tow- ers which were once occupied by the Queen. She accordingly led the way to a flight of steps which communicated with an antichamber on the second floor, — the same into which Rizzio was dragged when he received his final, mortal wounds. Some dusky spots on the floor were pointed out, which were said to be stains of his blood. — A few drops of lamp-oil from time to time judiciously dropped there, would produce a similar appearance, and perhaps afford vouchers of the sanguinary deed equally indisputable with the marks now discernible. WALK TO HOLYROOD. 185 Leaving the anti-room, I entered a larger apart- ment, or hall, hung round with tapestry much de- faced. This was queen Mary's chamber of state. From the walls were suspended a few portraits and engravings, most of which were of very ordinary ex- ecution. On one side stood a bed which formerly might have had some claims to be reputed fine ,- but it makes, at this day, a sorry appearance. There were many chairs with richly embroidered seats, ranged round the apartment, which also are going fast to decay. One of these, which was of a costlier construction than the others, and made somewhat in the style of a modern loUing-chair, though conside- rably wider, was said to be the chair on which the reigning king and queen of Scotland used to sit side by side on state occasions. Passing from this apart' ment, I next entered the private chamber of Mary, which was smaller than the former, and furnished in an inferiour style. The bed was in a condition scarcely better than the one first seen. It is of tattered crimson damask, the hangings of which are trimmed with a selvage of green fringes and tassels. In a corner of the room, on a small table, was placed the Queen's favourite work-box. It is made of thin deal, covered on the top and sides with fine cloth, which is ornamented with fancy needle-work. This last was wrought by Mary when in France ; and is curious as a specimen of her ingenuity. The chief subject was Jacob's dream of the ladder, with the descent of the angels upon it. Both the figure 16 * 186 WALK TO HOLY ROOD. and attitude of the sleeping patriarch were rather comical ; but the whole performance was well enough, considering that it was executed by a royal Miss in her early teens,— and that too, in the middle of the 16th century. The box is divided into a number of compartments which still retain some of the trinkets of the Queen. It is lined within with crimson silk ; under which is a stuffing of cotton. When the box was opened for my inspection, a rich perfume exhaled from it, which my fair conductress asserted in good faith, to have been the reported fact, ever since it was in the possession of the Queen ; — and that it originated from some fragrant substance, deposited within the cotton xmder the silk lining. Opposite the entrance, on a circular side of the chamber, are two doors ; of which the one on the left conducted to her dressing-room, and the other to a small cabinet answering to a French boudoir, and which was appropriated by the Queen as such. It was in this apartment that she was supping with Rizzio, when Lord Darnley with his associate assassins entered for the purpose of taking the life of that favourite. The conspira- tors ascended to the royal apartments by a back spi- ral staircase, at the top of which was a door in the wainscoat, concealed inside by tapestry, which open- ed into the chamber within a ^e.w feet of the smaller private room. In the latter, I saw the armour boots and gloves of Darnley, which are of immoderate WALK TO HOLYROOD. 187 size, and prove him to have possessed a stature of body somewhat proportionate to the gigantic villany of his mind. Before leaving the suite of rooms I had the tapes- try in the inner chamber removed from the wains- coat, which is connected with the trap-stair already spoken of The leaf is ingenious ; and its purpose not easy to be detected. The passage descending from it is singularly gloomy, and the steps at no great depth are lost in darkness. It is remarkable that this stair terminates in the chapel of Holyrood ; and that the assassins of Rizzio must have passed through that sanctuary in order to have reached the scene of their intended villany. In fact, all the circumstances connected with the perpetration of this foul deed mark an astonishing pitch of daring, as well as coolness of atrocity. Among the accomplices in the murder of Rizzio, was no less a personage than the Lord High Chan- cellor of Scotland. He even assumed the conduct and superintendence of the enterprize, — although undertaken in open violation of the laws both of God and man ; and all this moreover, in the very pre^ sence of his sovereign. There is a curious and minute account of the whole of this bloody transaction preserved in a let- ter which was written immediately subsequently to the event by the then English resident in Scotland to the Lords of the privy council. After detailing a Tariety of circumstances too numerous to be extract- 18« WALK TO HOLYROOD. ed, the writer proceeds with adding, that, ' Upon Sa- turdaye at nigcht, neire unto vin of the clocke, the king, (Darnly) conveyeth himself, the lord Ruthen, George Duglass and twa others by the privy stayers up to the queene's chamber, going to which is a closset about xii foot square : in the same a little low reposing bedde and a table at the which theyr were sitting at supper the queene, the lady Argile and David (Rizzio) with his cappe upon his hed. Into the closset theyr cometh in the king, and lord Ruthen, who willed David to come forth, saying, that was no place for him. The queene saide, that it was hur will. Her howsebande answerede that y' was against hur honour. The lord Ruthen said, that he shoulde lerne better his deutie, and offering to take him by the arm, David tooke the queene by the blychtes of hur gowne. who wolde gladlee have saved him : But the king having loosed his hande, and holding hur in his arms, David was thrust owt, and throwe the bedchamber into the chamber of presens, whar were the lord Morton, lord Lindsey, and so mane that bore him ill will that one thruste him into the boddie with a dagger, and after hym a great mane others, so that he had in his boddie above fiftie wonds.' In the same letter is related a singular parley which took place between the queen and two of the conspirators, Darnley and Ruthven, on the occasion of Rizzio's murder. To the former she said in a tone of high threatening, ' You have ta'en yr last WALK TO HOLYROOD. 189 of me and yr farewelle.' — and towards the close of the conversation, after much mutual crimination, she added, ' Well, that shall be dear blude to some of ye, yf his be spylt !" Rizzio, it is stated, ' had upon hys back when he was slayn a nigcht-gowne of damask furred, with a satten doublette, and a hose of russette velvette ;' — also, — ' a juill was hanging about hys necke of some price yt cannot be hearde of.' The tragical end of this man may well excite our commiseration ; and a feeling of indignation natu- rally arises within us against the remorseless ruf- fians who plotted his death. But his fate was scarce- ly worse than that of the chief accomplices in his murder. In fact the divine vengeance seemed to attend them wherever they went, and several of them at different times expiated with their blood the part which they bore in the slaughter of this unhappy foreigner. Darnley himself as is well known, perished by the explosion of gunpowder, designedly placed under a house in which he lodg- ed ; and only a few months after he had glutted his deadly hate by rioting in the blood of Rizzio, his stormy passions were hushed in death, and the co- lossal frame which seemed to mock at the common lot of humanity was laid low and motionless, as the clods of the valley, under the cloistered pavement of the chapel of Holyrood. This chapel, or rather what remains of it, is well wortliy of attention. Its order is a light Gothic, 19a WALK TO HOLYROOD. is susceptible of a high degree of decoration, and the architect seems to have lavished the luxuriances of its ornaments upon this noble monument of the taste and piety of his age. At the time of the revolution, when a protest- ant prince ascended the united throne of Scot- land and England, and the fanaticism of the follow-" ers of John Knox had attained its height, the popu- lace of Edinburgh wreaked their vengeance upon it, on the ground that popish mass had been cele- brated within its walls, and that it was distinguished by those carnal appendages of the papal church, — an organ, a spire, and a fine chime of bells. The in- side of the fabric was almost wholly demolished. Its decorations were objects of a peculiarly malig- nant resentment ; and many of them were defaced, mutilated, or destroyed. Happily the walls were left standing : and a colonnade which supported the roof over one of the side aisles still remains. A no- ble work it is ; — the pillars of which continue to ex- hibit an elegance of tracery work in delicate pre- servation, despite of the wastes of time and the despoiling hand of a fanatical canaille. After I had examined the old apartments already described, and as much as I wished to see of the palace, I devoted some time to the inspection of this ruinous fabric. Roofless and dilapidated as it is, its aspect is impressive, and it seems to sit in sackcloth as though mourning the departure of it§ pristine glor^. WALK TO HOLYROOD. 191 Beneath its ' lettered stones' is interred some of the noblest dust of the Scottish princes. Several graves of these puissant mortals were pointed out to me, and among them, two or three tombs of the Stuarts. As I trod the pavement in quest of these depositories of the dead, the sound of the falling footstep reverberated from the walls, broke upon the wonted silence of the place with an almost chilling effect ; and the wind as it swept in hollow gusts through the broken arches and along the lone and deserted spaces of the chapel ruin, seemed to wail a requiem to the sleeping tenants of the tomb, whilst it told of the desolation which reigned around. And how changed, how fallen from its ancient grandeur is this consecrated edifice ! Could its walls speak, what tales might they utter, what a moral would they impress ! Here the congregations of many a generation have assembled in the ostensible office of devotion, and have successively gone down to darkness and to dust, — Here mitred prelates have stood to bless, and kings have knelt to worship. Here piety has breathed its aspirations ; and peni- tence has whispered its confessions ; and fanaticism has fanned her fervours. Here the votary of a maddening superstition has soared in mystic trances, whilst censers have smoked, nnd tapers have gleam- ed, and the gorgeous symbols of a mistaken faith have struck upon the ravished sense. And here, 192 WALK TO HOLYROOD. too, when the majestic organ has wakened its spirit- stirring melody, and the vaulted roof has echoed to the swelling chant of voices, — the rapt fancy has depicted, in the concerts of earth, a similitude to the harmonies of Heaven. But the solemn pageantry has vanished ; — its actors are no more : — the light in the ' golden candlestick' is quenched ; — the choral hymn has ceased, and saving a few imperfect vesti- ges, the eye searches in vain within the crumbling pile for some memorial of the hallowed rites which once were solemnised within it, — some record which may attest its former magnificence, and speak an ' Ilium fuit' The chapel itself was originally a monastic church, attached to the religious house of Holy- rood, — a convent having been founded here as early as the commencement of the 12th century. It was denominated the Monastery of the Holy Cross, and was possessed by some monks of the order of St. Augustine, who practising upon the piety, or rather the superstitious weaknesses of the princes of the se- veral succeeding ages, acquired many privileges for the institution, and grants of ample revenues. In process of time, it became the richest religious foundation in Scotland ; and gave support to a name rous fraternity of monks.* * There was an estimate made of its revenues in the year 1688, which is subjoined for the amusement of the curious reader. —•They were computed to amount to 2650 bushels of wheat, WALK TO HOLYROOD. 193 At the Reformation, when in common with their brethren of other monastic orders, the inmates of Holyrood were expelled from their fair demesnes and stripped of the wealth which the cupidity of earlier generations had amassed, the abbey chapel was converted into a parish church, and not a few of the privileges appertaining to it in its original state were transferred to its new proprietors. Some of these have remained untouched to the present day, to the no small convenience of those who are constrained to seek their benefit. — The environs af- ford an asylum from prosecutions for debt ; as also does an extensive park adjacent to the abbey ; — and bankrupts have only to take up their quarters with- in the privileged precinct to defy the whole power and mahce of their creditors, even backed by the long arm of the civil law. Around the court, immediate- ly in front of Holyrood-house, is a range of small tenements, erected expressly for the accommoda- tion of insolvent debtors, who, safe in the inviolate sanctity of the retreat, pursue, without fear of mo- lestation, their ordinary occupations. Nor is this their only privilege. On the sabbath they are at liberty to walk abroad beyond the abbey limits, and to appear with impunity in any part of the city or 3360 bushels of oats, nearly 4000 bushels of barley ; 500 capons, 24 hois, as many salmon, twelve loads of salt, together with a considerable number of swine, and about 250/. sterling, iu cash. 17 194 WALK TO HOLYROOD. suburbs, at all hours between the rising and the set- ting of the sun. After the dethronement of Louis XVI., when se- veral of the surviving Bourbons sought refuge in Scotland, and were lodged for a season in the pa- lace of Holyrood, prior to their removal to England, it is said that the royal exiles were compelled for a time, in consequence of a failure of remittances, to avail themselves of the ancient immunities of the Abbey^ and to avoid trespassing beyond the bounds of the Canongate, saving on the returns of the sabbath. That such an absurd privilege should still be kept up, and that too, as a prerogative of a soi-disant mo- nastic institution, might excite a smile, if it did not provoke a severer feeling. Granting its adaptation to the barbarousness of the age wherein it origin- ated, — that it should be tolerated, nevertheless, in the 19th century, is truly pitiable. The trial by ordeal if retained in practice, would be equally ra- tional and fitting, on the score of equity. For the immunity guaranteed to debtors indiscriminately, be- nefits the knavish, no less than the upright. Ac- cordingly, it is as likely that the creditor be defraud- ed, as that the innocent be sheltered ;— and if the honest bankrupt sometimes finds under the shadow of the walls of Holyrood a retreat from unfeeling persecution, the criminal defaulter as often resorts to it, to escape the just application of coercive means to compel a restitution of indisputable dues. — WALK TO HOLYROOD. 195 Happy it is, thought I, as I left the spot and retraced my steps to the city, — happy it is, that there is one country where such hoary reUcs ot a barbarous age are unknown; — where customs of doubtful propriety are not perpetuated, simply because they are time- hallowed ; and where, with a due veneration for the institutions of remote periods, there is a ready re- jection of all such as are unproductive of positive good, or which have nothing to recommend them beyond the crust of antiquity. Edinburgh, November, 1816. T@'WB> Wli at©ll ^Al^ElHS AND THE GRAMPIANS. V-. 17* .^ TOUR TO LOCH KATRINE AND THE lASf FALKIRK, MAY 29, 1817. X HAD taken leave of a friend this morning at the door of Macgregor's in Edinburgh, and was entering the coach for this place when a cordial, ' How are you V from a familiar voice, directed my attention to a gentleman occupying a seat in one corner. It was Mr. R*****, of Liverpool,* who had been parsing a few weeks in the city. He had made his arrange- ments to leave it several days ago, on his return to England, but circumstances had unexpectedly delay- ed his departure hitherto, and he was now on his way to Glasgow, with an intention of immediately proceeding thence to Liverpool. Enquiring my plans of route, Mr. R. expressed re- gret that he had not been previously apprised of my contemplated journey to the north highlands, as he would cheerfully have accompanied me during at * Son of the celebrated Biographer of Lorenzo di Medicis. 200 TOUR TO LOCH KATRINE least the greater part of the tour. As circumstances were, he decided to go with me as far as the Tro- sachs and Loch Lomond, — a resolution which has given me great pleasure, as, independently of other companionable qualities, his various and entertaining conversation, and his extensive knowledge of men and things, render him a very desirable fellow-tra- veller. This negotiation being soon brought to a close, we had leisure to observe what was passing with- out, — in other words, to perceive that, had our at- tention been otherwise engrossed for a much longer time, we should have lost nothing of interest until our arrival at Linlithgow. The morning it is true, proved clear ; — a circumstance which we could not refrain noting, as in this region, and at this time of the year, it is a phenomenon of rather rare occurrence. The peasantry moreover, were actively engaged in the fields ; and it required no yankee guess to pre- sume that the New England farmer was far from being idle, rain or shine. In general however, the country appeared in a state of higher cultivation be- tween Edinburgh and Linlithgow, than is usually met with in districts of like extent in yankee land. It is thickly wooded too, — larches, firs, oaks, beeches, sycamores, elms and pines, — some of them of great size, — appearing in thriving plantations on every side. At Linlithgow, we left the coach, in order to visit the few objects of interest in the immediate vicinity, AND THE GRAMPIANS. 201 intending to pursue our journey northward on the following" morning. We first walked to the ruins of the palace, formerly one of the seats of the kings of Scotland, and still retaining marks of its ancient splendour. Originally it was a stupendous quadran- gular pile, surrounding a spacious area, in the centre of which was a magnificent fountain. Fragments of the tank remain, and the water itself is pellucid to transparency. The architectural order of the palace is Saxon. Several dates are sculptured on the walls ; one of which, — 16 1 9, — I particularly noticed as it led me back to the first settlement of my native land.* Two cen- turies have not elapsed since the latter event, and in the interim, whilst the house of the Stuarts, like this palace which they tenanted, has crumbled into dust, and the population of Scotland been but slowly aug- mented, and its physical resources as slowly deve- loped, — an empire of ten millions has arisen beyond the Atlantic wave, and in an unexampled ratio is now fast ascending to power and renown. Little was such a stupendous result anticipated when Linlith- gow was last the seat of Scottish royalty ; and little were consequences so momentous augured, when the bark which bore the first company of pilgrims to the northern shores of the new world was per- mitted to depart on its lone and adventurous voyage. In that feeble band was Carver ; and there too, * The precise date of the first settlement in New-EnglanrI, was December 22, 1620. 202 TOUR TO LOCH KATRINE were Winslow and Stat^dish and Brewster, names, which however then unknown in courts and palaces, will go down to the latest ages emblazoned on the roll of fame, and each passing year shall add one cubit more to the imperishable monument of their glory. But to return to Linlithgow, or Lithgow^ as the word is familiarly pronounced : — In the palace we were shown the apartment wherein Mary, queen of Scots, was bom ; or rather we were conducted to that part of the structure where this apartment once was, and where it still would be, but for the almost total want of three out of the four walls. This, how- ever, is quite as much as the visiter has a right to expect in these cases ; at least, so thinks the cicerone, who,with an air of importance and gravity bordering not a little on the grotesque, would make one believe that he is amply compensated for the silver piece paid in return, if instead of one whole wsill, rendered so memorable as this of Lithgow, a few dilapidated moss-covered stones were exhibited. In other parts of the pile, a number of rooms, several galleries, and two or three of the highest towers remain in good preservation. A large tower at the southern angle fell about a month ago, and with tremendous vio- lence broke through into some vaults and subterra- nean passages under the pavement of the court. Another hard by, is already partially dislodged, and gives awful warning that it is destined soon to com- Al\I> THE GRAMPIANS. 203 plete the work of destruction below, which its com- rade has so effectually commenced. Adjacent to the palace, stands the old cathedral, which is also hastening to decay. I should except, however, in this remark, the eastern end which has lately been repaired, and is now statedly used as a place of religious worship. Among the marvels of the cathedral ruins, is a side aisle, which was point- ed out to us as the spot where the spectre appeared to James IV. and warned him of the fatal defeat whicli awaited his arms at Fiodden. The scene of interview, we thought, judiciously chosen ; and even at this late day, considering all the accompaniments, it would answer full as well for another goblin con- ference. The aisle is in a recess, sequestered from the main body of the building. The little light that is admitted, scarcely relieves the gloom, and the walls are covered with moss, or rather an incrusta- tion of green mould, occasioned by the constant dampness of the air. It did not occur to us to in- quire whether there had actually been any recent spectral appearances on this spot, — especially whe- ther the elfin interlocutor of James had held his court there of late. Leaving these important par- ticulars to be settled by other and more inquisitive tourists, I merely add on the subject of these ruins, that both the palace and the cathedral, occupy one of the best positions imaginable. They crown a small eminence that rises gently from the margin of a neighbouring lake, of considerable size and great 204 TOUR TO LOCH KATRIJNE beauty. The lawn which slopes to the water side is sprinkled with a few trees, which add much to the prettiness of the whole scene. Having introductory letters to the celebrated Dugald Stewart, we next proceeded to his residence, which is situated about three miles from Linlithgow, not far from the Frith of Forth. But a sad disap- pointment awaited us on our arrival at the Lodge, where we learnt that Mr. S. with all his family, had for some time been absent on a journey to the neighbourhood of Montrose. This disappointment, we had neither of us prepared our minds for, as Mr. S. is understood to be rarely absent from home. It is seldom indeed, that he visits Edinburgh, — scarcely going there once in a twelvemonth. Stran- gers accordingly who seek an introduction to him, rarely enjoy that privilege elsewhere, than at his own residence ; and there, on being presented to him, they are uniformly received with urbanity. As respects Mr. R. and myself, all regret on the present occasion was unavailing ; and we had to submit to the necessity of the case with as good a grace as we could assume, which, to be sure, was a very ill one. Previously to our return to Linlith- gow, we devoted a little time to a walk over the grounds attached to the residence of Mr. Stewart. Kinniel-House, — the name of this seat, — though occupied for a number of years by this great man, is in fact the property of the duke of Hamilton. It is a stately mansion, spacious, but clumsily con- AND THE GRAMPIAN;?. £05 structed, standing in the centre of a noble park. A fine avenue planted with aged trees, leads from the lodge to the house. About midway, this path is intersected by a clear gurgling brook, the banks of which are prettily fringed with coppice and under- wood, and the waters dash from the rocks with a charming effect. The view from the mansion is picturesque, and the whole place is exceedingly well adapted for philosophic and literary retirement. Returning to Linlithgow, we took a hasty dinner, and there being no new objects of interest to attract attention, and the afternoon proving mild and clear, we determined, instead of waiting till the following morning, to proceed on foot, forthwith to Falkirk, and to leave our baggage to come after us in the evening coach. The distance is about eight miles, — the road traversing a fertile and lovely tract of country, — which amply rewarded us for the little fatigue we were subjected to, on the walk. The Forth continued in sight during much of the way. Laurieston, a neat and thriving village, occurred on the route, besides one or two hamlets. Approach- ing Falkirk, the surface of the country became more uneven and rugged, and began to swell into hills. These gradually incrensed in magnitude as we ad- vanced, an;l gave prcsasce that we were drawing near to mountainous districts. Stirling castle, the ' bulwark of the north,' was first descried by us, when we were three or four miles distant from Falkirk. It appeared very dis- 18 206 TOUR TO LOCH KATRINE tinct, and formed a fine feature in the landscape. Beyond, and to the north and west of it, were seen the summits of an extended chain of mountains, which were arrayed in the deepest, loveUest blue. These we presumed to constitute a part of the Grampian ridge, and they seemed stationed as by the hand of nature to serve as an eternal barrier to the territo- ries of the Gael. Falkirk pleased us very much. It is a bustling thriving town, containing eight or nine thousand inhabitants. It is not quite so cleanly indeed, as could be wished, but however it is better in this respect than many other towns in the Lowlands, and accordingly pleases the more by contrast. There has been a weekly market here to-day. The town is filled with country peasantry, tricked out in their best attire, and making in general, a very decent appearance. These people have an eye probably to the Stirling fair, which we under- stand will be held to-morrow. We shall probably take a peep at the same fair, as we propose leaving this place early in the morning, and proceeding to Stirling to breakfast. My next date, will be at Ardkenacrochkan Farm, May 30. I WAS unable to supply the word last night as it was doubtful how far we should proceed to-day. At a very early hour, Mr. R. and myself left Falkirk in a gig for Stirling, a distance of about eleven miles. Our equipage was the best which the inn aflforded, AND THE GRAMPIANS. 207 and a more sorry affair can scj'.rcely be conceived. The horse was one of the most jaded and miserably looking animals which were ever harnessed to a thill ; and the gig, whatever of convenience and strength it m'ffht once have boasted, had become so much the worse for the wear, in fact, was so crazy and rickety, that we had serious apprehensions that it would break down from under us before we had quite moved from the yard. But in this we were disappointed, — and happily after a journey of three hours, we alighted in safety at the Red Lion in Stir- ling, considering ourselves fortunate in arriving there on any terms. The delay which we thus suffered, gave us an opportunity of seeing more fully the fine country through which we passed ; but as for admir- ing it, that was out of the question. And here le- me mention, what the experience of every traveller will confirm, that there is the widest difference be- tween the actual seeing^ and the fancying objects and things at a distance. In the latter case, mere asso- ciation predominates, unalloyed by personal ^ee/iwg-. The reader of a traveller's journal or diary, is disposed to think that every thing is gold which glitters. When he peruses a florid discription of the beauties of a foreign scene, he does not take into the account, the inconvenience and vexation of miserable horses, and worse vehicles, and muddy roads, — to say nothing of now and then a surly innkeeper, or some easily-besetting sharper. It does not occur to him whilst sitting at his ease in his own parlour, by his 208 TOUR TO LOCH KATRINE comfortable fire-side, leisurely turning over the leaves of an itinerary, of the thousand nameless ills to which the traveller has been heir during the sojourn- ings which that itinerary records ; — how he has been made to encounter, perhaps, the peltings of a mer- ciless storm, — the drippings of a searching Scotch mist^ (which in most cases is rather the worse of the two evils,) — or it may be, the ardours of a sultry sun ; — and how, after a wayworn, wearisome day's march, he is obliged to seek covert in a tenement which promises every thing but quietness, — and re- pose in a bed already haunted by a tribe of certain brown-coated gentry, who are too sturdy and adroit to be dislodged by any of the manoeuvres of modern tactics. But as 1 have neither disposition nor time just now to describe the traveller's ' miseries,' (and not the least, by the by, is the attempting to pre- serve a journal, however hasty of daily incident,) I will leave this topic after further saying, that, the tourist too often finds to his cost, that the charm which the imagination throws over objects when contemplated at a distance, fades on a near approach, and is then found to be but an empty though bril- liant illusion. On the ride from Falkirk, we crossed the battle ground of Bannockburn, skirting a stream of that name, where, five centuries ago, Robert Bruce, with an army of 30,000, engaged and vanquished Edward II. at the head of 100,000 men. The field, which is very fertile, is now under high cultivation. The AND THE GRAMPIANS. 209 road to Stirling was thronged with people, — men, women and children, who were repairing thither to attend the fair. As we entered the town, we found several of the streets already tilled, and lined with panniers, and barrovvs, and drays, and stalls, which were furnished with uncounted varieties of wares, all very tempting of course. From the din and bustle of the crowd, we were glad to escape to the more peaceful quarter of the town, where we first alighted, and after breakfasting, we sallied forth to explore the castle, and take a bird's eye view of the environs. A near view of Stirling, as we approached it, had showed it to great advantage. The town is built upon a hill, which in its form resembles that on which the old town of Edinburgh stands. The castle is almost a perfectyac simile^ though somewhat in miniature, of that in the latter place. It is situated on a basaltic rock which projects with a bold, precipitous front towards the west, and commands one of the finest prospects in the world. The view from the esplanade is in several re- spects decidedly superior, at least, in my humble opinion, to the one, so justly admired, from the round tower of Windsor. It has more of character about it, and a degree of wildness too in that character which the other wants. Nothing, it is true, can ex- cel in softness and many other features of beauty, the Windsor landscape. To say that it is rich^ is to convey a faint idea of its effect on the eye. It is 18* 210 TOtTR TO LOCH KATRIJN^E rich to luxuriousness ; and there is a glow and an enamelling in its colourings, which are indescribably lovely. But after all, there is a tameness, or rather a sleepiness in the scene which does not satisfy the mind ; — it is like contemplating a marble bust of Rysbrach's chiseling. The whole may be beautiful in its way ; but the features are motionless and are destitute of sufficient expression. There is another thing wanting in the view from Windsor. There are no mountains bounding the prospect, or stretching in undulating swells along the distant horizon ; and I freely confess myself to be of the opinion of the honest Scot, so humourously described by Dr. Moore, who maintained, that as well might a woman with a pair of sparkling eyes, a ruddy complexion and a beautiful mouth, be termed handsome, without a nose on her face, as a landscape be pronounced per- fect, without a mountain to complete its effect. Of mountains, there is no want in the view from Stirling castle, and yet they do not obtrude them- selves on the eye. They are sufficiently removed into the back ground, and withal, effectually serve to fill up the landscape, and impart to it an air of in- expressible dignity and grandeur. From the ram- parts of the castle we beheld chains of the Ochill and Grampian highlands, and far to the west, the blue peaks of the mountains of Argyle and Dum- barton. Below us, the majestic Forth was seen for many a mile flowing in graceful meanderings through a successsion of verdant meads, and fine, fertile AA'D THE GRAMPIANS. 211 lields, dispensing on either hand, beauty and luxuri- ance. The windings of this stream in the immediate vicinity of Stirling, are very remarkable. Its course has been fancifully compared to the figure of some huge fabled serpent, stretching its enormous folds over an extent of landscape, not however to destroy, but to fertilize and enrich. It was with difficulty that we withdrew our eyes from the enchanting scenery without, to inspect what was within the castle. A soldier of the 40th con- ducted us round, but we saw nothing very observable. The castle comprises two or three courts, one with- in another, which are each protected by immense gateways and Portcullises. Formerly it must have possessed great comparative strength, and even now it presents a very formidable and imposing appear- ance, although in point of utility it is about as ser- viceable as John o** Gaunt's effigy in armour, and the other cap-a-pie wooden warriors in the Tower. This castle was one of the favourite residences of the Scottish monarchs, and the place where several of the James'' held their courts. A noble house, or more properly, palace, occupies a central position within the walls, which was built by James V. We did not forget to enquire for the regal hall in which the knight of Snowdon stood, ^ the centre of the glittering ring,' when unloosing the golden chain from his neck, he ' laid the clasp on Ellen's hand.' The castle armoury is an object of some curiosity; but after hastily inspecting it, we eagerly returned to the ramparts to enjoy again, and fix more deeply on 212 TOUR TO LOCH KATRIJnE our minds the magnificent scenery which they over- look. On our return to the inn, we found cards, and an invi- tation to dine with the family of Provost L . We had left an introductory letter at the house shortly after our arrival in town, but the gentleman to whom it was addressed, (Alexander L., Esq.) was not at home at the time. He had since been seeking us at the castle and elsewhere, but we had not the good fortune to meet with him. The invitation to dine and other civilities, proifered in an accompany- ing note, we regretted to be under the necessity of declining ; but Mr. R. being desirous of prosecuting the tour with all convenient speed, and the day con- tinuing very tempting, we concluded to order a gig for Callendar, and recommence our travels. The bell of the Franciscan tower pealed the hour of twelve, as we drove from the door of the Red Lion. Descending Stirling hill, we noticed what had before escaped attention, a number of walks cut in ledges around the base of the castle mount, which were romantically sheltered by hang- ing woods. We met numbers of people repairing to the town, but no one whose tall majestic figure, and firm measured step, proclaimed the approach of the Dougla^s. Crossing the Forth, we entered on a tract of rich meads, and two miles further arrived at the Allan water. Leaving that stream, we ascend- ed an eminence which commanded a charming land- scape, comprising in immediate prospect, the great AND THE GRAMPIANS. 213 vale which extends from Gartmore on the west by Stirling and Falkirk on the east, with the noble wind- ings of the Frith of Forth. Blair Drummond, the seat of the late distinguished lord Kames, was passed a mile or two distant at our left, on the other side of the river. Our first stage was to Doune, nine miles through a fine country, well wooded. StirUng with its ve- nerable castle, formed a noble object behind us, and as we approached Doune, the eye was greeted by one of the finest baronial ruins in Scotland. The Castle of Doune is situated on a penin- sula, formed by the confluence of Ardoch and the Teith. It is a huge square building, with walls of ten feet in thickness. The tower, at least so much of it as remains, is eighty feet high. The whole fabric, (parts of which it is computed, have outstood the lapse of seven centuries,) is now fast verging into ruin; but dilapidated as it is, it still gives the second title of lord Doune to the ancient house of Moray. The only banner which now waves over its mouldering walls, is the tall rank grass which grows luxuriantly on its topmost turrets. This castle, like many others, is interesting for having been for some time the residence of the beau- tiful and accomplished, but unhappy Queen Mary. It is related also, that in the year 1745, a party of students of the University of Edinburgh, being taken prisoners, were confined in the strong hold of this 5ame castle. They had armed themselves in the 214 TOUR TO LOCH KATRINE royal cause, and panting for an opportunity to signal- ize their valour, scoured the country as far as the water of Teith. It so happened that Glundhu, (^poetically, a lineal descendant of Rhoderic Dhu,) at that time held possession of the castle, for the ' use and behoof of the Pretender. With a small force he succeeded in capturing the doughty band of beardless youths, and conducting them in safety to to the ' bannered towers of Doune,' there furnished them severally with the best wards which the keep afforded. John Home, author of the tragedy of Douglass, was one of their number, who in his his- tory of the events of 1745, has given an entertain- ing narrative of their escape. Mention of Doune occurs frequently in the Lady of the Lake, and it is left to be presumed by the reader of that popular poem, that the chivalrous Fitz-James, and his retinue lodged within the walls of this castle on the night preceding the chase. , Our route from Doune to Callendar, was the self-same which lord Moray's train pursued on the occasion alluded to. We could not help wishing that our steed had inherited a little of the mettle of their ' gallant greys ;' — but so far as we could discover, notwithstanding the application of a sufficient gal- vanic power, the whole was extinct. In justice to the poor beast however, it should be added, that he made no pretensions, and in the long run, (i. e. a pacing step of four miles an hour,) proved himself decidedly superior to his morning's predecessor — ^ Hyperion to a Satyr.' AND THE GRAMPIANS. 215 As we approached Callendar, the mountains group- ed themselves finely in the fore ground ; and among them Ben-ledi in all his grandeur, towered on the view at every step. We passed Cambusmore, a beautiful country seat, embosomed in plantations with an extensive lawn in front ; and shortly after, crossed the Bracklinn, which Scott speaks of as a ' thundering flood.' It is an impetuous mountain stream, brawling over a rocky channel, here and there tumbling in cascades, or foaming in rapids, and on the whole, answers very well to the poet's description. Entering Callendar, we noticed kilts of plaid worn by the boys, the first which I have seen on children. They were unaccompanied by the tartan hose, or even a vulgar pair of shoes. The latter articles of dress, the Scotch in general, hold apparently m great contempt. The females espe- cially it would seem, regard them as very unneces- sary appendages. In the course of the day, we met many women, both young and old, well dressed in other respects, excepting that they were barefoot. Some, indeed, we saw furnished both with shoes and stockings ; but they took the precaution to carry them under their arms, in order probably, to have them handy to put on, when arriving near their place of destination. At Callendar we dismissed our gig, and having dined, commenced our last stage, on foot. It was a pleasant walk of three hours. The village of C. is situated near the Teith,on the very borders of the 216 TOUR TO LOCH KATRINE highlands, so that in leaving it we began to penetrate the Switzerland of North Britain. The river Teith for a part of its course, was anciently regarded as a boundary between the Highland and Lowland dis- tricts, and its waters have often been dyed with human blood, shed in the combats of the neighbour- ing inhabitants. There is a good deal of the picturesque in the scenery round Callendar. It possesses at least, much sylvan beauty, and an air of romantic wild- ness. The landscape assumed new charms as we proceeded, although association, doubtless, lent something of interest to it ; for it was impossible in the present instance, to forget wholly that we were treading on classic ground. Crossing a corner of Strathire not far from the site of the chapel of St. Bride, we entered on Bo- chastle, a beautiful mead spread along the margin of the Teith, and extending as far as its outlet from Loch Vennachar. The Teith, it should be remem- bered, takes its rise above Loch Katrine, and flow- ing through that Lake, next pursues its course through the lakes, Achray and Vennachar. In allu- sion to this circumstance of its birth, Scott denomi- nates it, ' the daughter of three mighty Lakes ;' but here, namely at Bochastle, it is quite in its infancy. At the end of the mead, just where the stream issues from Loch Vennachar, we arrived at Coilan- t6gle Ford. This was Clan alpine's outmost guard, the scene of conflict between Roderick and Fitz- james, and accordingly we viewed it with lively in- AND THE GRAMPIANS. 217 terest. A convenient bridge of two arches, erect- ed no long time ago, contributes much to the com- fort of the traveller, by superseding the necessity of actually fording the stream. From this place, the road, which was now little better than a foot-path, followed closely the margin of Vennachar, for three miles or more, at the same time, winding along the skirts of Ben Ledi. A point of land, indifferently cultivated, and with a few mi- serable cabins upon it, projected into the lake at the end of this distance. There was. no mistaking this for the scene of gathering, or the muster-place of the Clan-Alpines. Lannck mead it was, sure enough ; and this determmed another point, name- ly, that from the heather and broom which clothed the acclivities of Ben Ledi on our right, the follow- ers of Roderick Dhu arose at his whistling, in grim defiance of Fitz-James. Two miles further brought us to the Brigg of Turk, and the small village of Duncraggan. This last is divided into two hamlets ; the houses of which, as Scott has most accurately described them, Peeped like moss-grown rocks, half seen, Half hidden in the copse so green. We passed between the hamlets. That on the right is sheltered by a few venerable firs and larch- es, which flung their dusky lengthening shadows around, and warned us of the near approach of evening. 19 218 TOUR TO LOCH KATRINE The road soon wound down from the sides of Ben Ledi to the charming shores of Loch Achray. The scenery lost none of its grandeur, although the fea- tures were more intermingled. A little before us, ' Ben-An heaved high his forehead bare,' and fur- ther to the left surrounded with numerous other Al* pine forms, arose the bold outline of Ben Venue. Achray is a lovely expanse of water. It is girt with a border of waving woods, and meads of pasto- ral softness. As we approached it, a breeze was gently agitating its surface ; bu this shortly died away, and the waters slumbered in profound repose. The summits of the adjacent mountains were seen reflected from its placid bosom with equal clearness and distinctness, as from a finely polished mirror. Twilight, however, gradually veiled these images, but increased the general effect of the landscape, by an air of enchantment, which it communicated to the whole. It was just at nightfall when we arrived at the door of the farm house, whence these notes are dated. The name, (horribile dictu^) is too long to be repeated. The cottage is situated at the upper extremity of Loch Achray, just at the mouth of the wild gorge of the Trosachs. James Stuart is the proprietor, whose principal occupation at this sea- son of the year is to entertain travellers ; that is to say, to give them shelter under his roof, and to fur- nish them with guides to the interesting objects in the vicinity. Our entertainment within doors, — so AND THE GRAMPIANS. 219 far as the supper was concerned, — consisted of smoaked fish, barley cakes, whiskey, (which was the staple,) ^ad a quantity of milk served up in wooden bowls, with horn spoons. Savoury viands, forsooth ! What added to the comfort of all this was, the perspicacious intellig-ence of the serving maid, whose whole vocabulary of English, was compre- hended in, — ' What's your wull, sir ? — ' Ayc^'' — and^ — ' ni call master.^ James Stuart seems to have found his account in his gains from travellers. He has lately built a house adjacent to his private dwelling, wherein he professes to accommodate those who honour him with their company. As this said new house has but one sleeping apartment, it became a question whether Mr. R. or myself should be the occupant. The lot was determined in favour of that gentle- man, and accordingly I repaired to the quondam te- nement. My bed-room is found on inspection, to be hterally on the ground floor, there being not a board, nor a tile, nor a blade of straw, above the bare earth, excepting under the crib in which my bed is placed. Tired as I am, my only hope of rest, is in the opiate of fatigue. ' Norman, heir of Armandave,' doubtless, fared equally well, when the heath was his couch, and the bracken his curtain. LOCH LOMOND SIDE, MAY 31 ST. After an early breakfast, Mr. R. and my- self, set off from the firm house of Ardkanacroch- kan, to explore more particularly the scenery to 220 TOUR TO LOCH KATRINE which the poem of the ' Lady of the Lake' has lent celebrity, and the charm of classic association. Taking with us a guide, who was also to act as boatman as occasion might require, we bade adieu to the sweet shores of Achray, < Its banks and braes sae bonnie. Craigs and water, woods and glen,'- and proceeded towards the wild pass of the Tro- sachs. The road wound through deep and narrow defiles, hemmed in by steep and precipitous ridges on either side. The mountains which overtopped them, ex- hibited a peculiarly rugged and alpine aspect. Their summits were bleak, sterile, and bald ; — mid- way they were girt with a belt of heath, and furze, and broom ; — and their feet were ' feather'd o'er' with woods of hazel, weeping birch, alder, mountain- ash and oak. It was not long before we reached the rugged dell, in which the generous steed of Fitz-James sunk to the earth and expired. Of course, for the residue of om- walk before reaching the lake, we rather had the advantage of the royal pedestrian. For we w^ere fresh, and invigorated by the morning mountain-breeze, and had the whole day before us, and moreover, were enjoying the services of a guide whose frank, guileless countenance was enough to disarm apprehension, and remove all suspicion of his claiming lineage from Murdock, the treacherous 'Kern.' Whereas the huntsman, wearied by the AND THE GRAMPIANS. 221 lengthened chace, was obliged to thread his way, solitary and alone, through tangled bush and brake, ignorant whither his steps might conduct him, — whether to some friendly shelter, or the haunts of deadly foes, — and ignorant too, whether at every turn, the grim countenance of some savage moun- taineer might not be seen scowling upon his path. But without pursuing the parallel between our situation and that of Fitz-James, — it is interesting, to reflect in general, on the wonderful and happy change which, within the memory of many now liv- ing, has been wrought in the characters of the har- dy natives of these wild, and mountain-girt regions. Still does the foaming, dashing torrent, bay hoarse and loud : — still do the surrounding cliffs frown stern- ly as ever : — still in the ' rifted rock,' may the pine tree be seen moored^ and every other feature of the landscape is found marked by a savage correspon- dence. Even the roe, free and untamed, still makes his lair among the adjacent fells. The red deer still strays in quest of covert, and of food, in the dus- ky forest of Glenfinglass, and the gloomy recesses of Craig-Vad : — nor as yet, is the black eagle dislodged from her aerial home in these alpine fastnesses ; the osprey still watches her prey from the projecting cliff that yawns over the watery abyss, and each passmg breeze bears in its bosom, the piercing wild- notes of the bittern and the cormorant. Nature has nowise deviated from her accustomed course ; — she continues to renew her forests, to replenish her 19* ^22 TOUR TO LOCH KATRINE roaring cataracts, and to infuse the self-same in- stincts into the various tribes of animals which peo- ple these rocky retreats. Man, alone is changed : and how marvellous is that change ! — Civilization has smoothed his rugged front ; has operated with a kindly, softening influ- ence upon the feelings of his heart, and in place of a fondness for war, and rapine, and scenes of turbu- lence and blood, has taught him to respect the rights of his fellow-man, to banish every rancorous heredi- tary feud, and to seek a peaceful livelihood in some industrious calling, among his native clansmen, and in his own sequestered glen. Civilization, do I say, has produced these happy results ? — Rather, should I have said, religion ; — rehgion, pure, peaceable, and gentle ; — religion, holy and heaven-descended, which begins with transforming the moral man, and then proceeds to ameliorate eifectually his civil condition and circumstances. Hers, is the gentle voice which hushes the angry, tumultuous elements of the human breast, and melts the heart of man to kindness, by pointing his thoughts and his affections to the Heavens. But to return to my narrative ; — Continuing our walk within the Trosachs, and having proceeded about a mile, we arrived at an high shaggy emi- nence, which at first sight, seemed to block entirely the pass. Our guide called it ' Roderick Dhu's Look-out :' it being the hill, he said, round which Fitz-James came, when he suddenly discovered the AND THE GRAMPIANS. 223 fire which was blazing under a jutting crag, and the tall athletic form of the Gael, stretched by the side of it. The next object described, was Loch Ka- trine, — for which we had been impatiently looking from the time of our entering the Trosachs. Scott's description of its first appearance is strikingly just : — A narrow inlet still and deep Affording scarce such breadth of brim As served the wild ducVs brood to swim. It in fact appears at this point, like a little pool in the hollow of the hills ; — but presently as we pro- ceeded, it enlarged its basin, and stretched into a lengthening expanse. Not a ripple was playing up- on its surface ; — and the breath of air that was stir- ring, scarcely waved a leaf of the aspen, which dip- ped its pendulous boughs into the waters of the lake. The guide directed our attention to a ridge on our right, which was the same he informed us, along which the knight of Snowdon clambered, when he caught the first view of Katrine, and broke out into that inimitable exclamation, beginning with, And what a scene were here, he cried For princely pomp or churchman's pride. — It was on this same height that Mar and Moray, paus- ed with their troops, whilst the spearman swam over to cut a boat from the shore of the Isle, and bring it to mainland. At least so would the poet have 224 TOUR TO LOCH KATRINE us believe ; and such was the faithful echo of the guide. The latter spoke of objects and things which pre- sented themselves on our route as real scenes of the different transactions recorded in the Ladj of the Lake ; — nor from what we could learn, (and for the sake of the amusement we plied him with questions enough) — did he entertain the most distant suspicion that the incidents described in that poem were any thing less than sober, actual facts. There was one piece of information, however, which he gave us, which was interesting on another ground, than a fictitious locality. Leading the Trosachs we passed a deep ravine enclosed with precipitous crags, in which, we were told, the clan Gregor were formerly in the habit of secreting the flocks and herds which they had plundered in their lowland forays. It is thence at this day, denominated in familiar language, that is to say, in plain English, the prison ; and it has another appellation in Gaelic, which I now cannot recal. Near the lower extremity of the lake, where we first came down upon it, there is a rude pier con- structed, which extends for a considerable way under the brae, that here shelves abruptly to the water's edge. Two boats were moored along side this pier, into the better of which we made preparations to embark. Bui, alas ! it was no ' light shallop ;' and we doubted much whether the wizard wand of any poetic necromancer was capable of transforming it AND THE GRAMPIANS. 225 into one. Surely, thought we, if Ellen's skiif, or even the barge of Roderick, were no better than this, Charon's would have furnished a more graceful model, and withal, might have boasted a decided su- periority in point of trim. Leaving the guide, — now, however, metamorphos- ed into a waterman, — to bail out the boat, we climb- ed an eminence which overhung the lake, and took a bird^s-eye view of the surrounding scenery. This done, we embarked, and after saiUng about a quarter of a mile, and turning an abrupt promontory, the lake opened upon us in all its beauty and magnifi- cence. From the point then viewed, it appeared about six or seven miles in length, and varymg from one and an half, to two and an half in breadth. We did not, however, see it in its entire extent. Of the objects which environed the lake, Ben Venue was the most prominent. This was seen on our left, rearing its shaggy colossal form to a stupendous height. It is a very picturesque mountain. Its slop- ing ridges were covered with the trembling poplar, birch, and mountain-ash ; and its skirts were rich in pastures. A nearer view discovered the scars and furrows, which a thousand tempests have traced on its weather-beaten brow, — and the wild confusion of the huge masses of rock which were piled along its northern shoulder. We were landed first at the foot of this mountain, and conducted to Coir-nan-Uriskin, or the Goblin's cave, situated about two hundred yards from the 226 TOUR TO LOCH KATRINE lake. It is nothing more than a gentle hollow, oi» indentation on the side of Ben Venue. It is finely embosomed with trees, and very romantic ; but why it should be called a cave, I know not, except from the popular tradition that the Urisks, a species of demi-semi preternatural beings, answering some- what to the brownies of England, used regularly to convene in this place on all solemn occasions, and a cave was naturally thought to be the most appro- priate name for such a spot. These urisks, according to ancient superstition, were very expert with implements of husbandry, and were capable of being won over to perform the servile labours and drudgery of a farm. Their brawny shoulders and ' hairy strength,' being found of great use to the peasant: it was common, no long time ago, for each highland family to retain one of this order in its service. If report speaks true, the custom has not yet altogether fallen in desuetude ;— but it seems that the Urisks, who possess a due share of native peevishness, have become, at length greatly soured and disaffected, in consequence of certain returns of ingratitude which they have ex- perienced. One of them in particular, it is said, has taken great umbrage. He was attached to a small farm, a mile or two distant from Ben-venue, and had performed very faithfully for a series of years, the drudgery imposed upon him. Such was his strength AJNTD THE GRAMPIANS. 22^7 That in one night ere glimpse of morn, His shadowy flail could thresh the corn Which ten day-labourers could not end,* — His only compensation for all this, was a bowl of cream and an oaton cake, (saving indeed occasion- ally, a maud, or plaid, if it chanced to be cold,) sup- plies, however, which were punctually expected, per noctem, — and these, he as regularly despatched, Ere the first cock his matin sung. It SO happened that on one night he was neglected in these courtesies. He nevertheless, very mag- nanimously performed his task, but was heard at peep of dawn, to utter a wild and piercing cry, and took his departure never more to return. It is shrewdly suspected that the disgust thus occasioned is fast spreading itself throughout the tribe ; as it is agreed on all hands, that these Urisks now-a-days, seldom visit the habitations of men, or condescend to enlist themselves in their service. This is the more lamentable, just now, as the attention of the hardy Gael, is be- ginning to be turned particularly to the culture of his native soil : — and the plodding, painstaking indus- try of these fellow-helpers of his fathers would be found to be of great utility. — The only remedy which the existing exigency seems to sugge; t, —though what the wisdom of another generation may devise, * Milton's L'Allegro. 228 TOUR TO LOCH KATRINE it is difficult to conjecture, — is, the speedy formatioa of some half dozen or more, agricultural societies, — the adoption of the valuable hints on the subject of practical husbandry, furnished by sir Humphry Davy, and above all, — the imitating the sturdy habits of the Green Mountain boys of New-England, who depend- ing on no other supernatural aid than the blessing of the God of nature, have braced their sinews, and girded their iron frames to the work of reclaiming and subjugating the soil, and have at length fairly succeeded in forcing it to yield them subsistence, and competency, and independence. What we had seen ot Coir-nan-Urisken, so far satisfied us, that we declined a proposal from our guide to visit Bealanambo, another cave situated a small distance off, upon the southern acclivity of Ben-venue, which he represented as remarkable, for various unearthly wonders, which 1 am at pre- sent, unable to recollect. The boat was accordingly again shoved from the strand, and we proceeded to Roderick's Island. We landed upon the very beach whence the gentle Ellen put off her ' fairy frigate,' at the sound of Fitz-James' horn. — Ail was still and lone. — No Al- lan-bane greeted us with his mmstreisy : — no fair damsel bent upon us a look of courteous salutation : — no vassal awaited our landing with a protfer of the hospitalities of ' highland hall,' and we even listened in vain for the whimpering cry of the ' vex'd span- iel.' There was one object indeed, which deter- ANB THE GRAMPIANS 229 mined the identity of the domain, with that of the fair Ellen. It was -the aged oak Which slanted from the islet rock ; — And this seemed to wave its venerable branches in token of amity, and the br eeze which sighed through them we thought whispere d a welcome. The island rises with a bold bank from the water, and swells into a gentle knoll crowning the centre. It is covered with woods of a beautiful, native growth, and several varieties of flowering shrubs. Among the smaller plants and flowerets which we noticed, were the fox-glove, honey-suckle, daisy, primrose, and enchanter's night shade. We soon completed the survey of the Island, but it was long, very long, before we were willing to take leave of it. I was fortunate in having with me a copy of the Lady of the Lake, which I procured, the morning I left Edinburgh, expressly for the pur- pose of consulting it, and referring to the descriptions of the author, on each remarkable spot. We have had occassion frequently to resort to its pages, since leaving Stirling, and have experienced great satisfac- tion in tracing a striking resemblance between natu- ral objects around us, and the delineations of the poet. Making allowance for some few licences and aberrations, the latter are drawn with a fidelity which we could not but admire. ■ hey are strictly graphic, and true to the very letter. 20 mo TOUR TO LOCH KATRINE Deeming it needful to carry away with us, some vouchers of our visit to this fairy isle, we picked up a few pebbles from the beach, plucked several sprigs of mountain ash, and gathered a few leaves of the foxglove, together with specimens of such wild- flowers as we found in blossom. These spoils we bore off with a throb of mingled pleasure and pride ; and in the sense of possession, experienced doubtless as much heart-felt satisfaction as many a Midas re- ceives in contemplating his hoarded stores, or a vic- tor his hard-earned bays. Once more we betook ourselves to the boat, and sailed to the opposite shore, where we ascended an high bluff headland, which is said to command the finest view of the lake, and the surrounding scenery. The prospect thence, was truly magnificent ; but to enumerate, or by any description, however labour- ed, to give a just conception of its features, is utterly impracticable. The effect to be properly under- stood, requires that the whole should be seen. 1 will merely add a remark therefore, on the subject of the general cast of the landscape. It is, that there is less of softness, and more of a savage majesty in the scene, than I had thought to find. Excepting the skirts of Ben-venue, the point of Brianchoil, (where- on is a fine farm,) and here and there a shorn glade, or an enclosed patch of meadow, the lands immediate- ly bordering upon the lake, are in a state of primi- tive wildness. This wildness requires to be re- lieved by a greater proportion of cultivated soil, by AND THE GRAMPIANS. 231 more of fruitful fields and green pastures, to make the whole landscape completely beautiful, as well as grand. The quantity of wood-land which appeared on every side, surprised us not a little. Much of the wood, moreover, was of a vigorous and healthy growth. In general it is not of the best quality, it is true, but then there is enough, of it, and at a very low price too. The peasantry and shepherds em- ploy it almost exclusively for fuel, which is a suffi- cient evidence of its abundance, as the neighbour- hood furnishes tracts of the finest peat* mosses. A sail of an half mile further, brought us to a beach of almost milk white appearance, occasioned by the singular beauty and clearness of the quartz pebbles which cover it. It is denominated the ' sil- ver strand,' and also, indifferently, the Beach of In- terview. From this point we took our departure for the head of the lake ; and bore up slowly towards Glen- gyle. The sun never shone with greater splendour upon Loch Katrine ; and every object around, appear- * The writer of these sketches, as he penetrated father north into the highlands, witnessed in several districts, a still great- er abundance of wood ; — especially in Lorn and Appin. Be- tween fort Augustus, and Inverness, he passed through two or three forests of several miles extent. The trees were chiefly ash birch, alder, holly, and trembling-poplar. This was the morf- observable, as Scotland is noted for its scarcity of forest or woocf.- ;ands. m2 TOUR TO LOCH KATRIJN'E ed to fine advantage. The lake itself was literally of a glassy smoothness ; and gave back, with wonderful distinctness, the images of the surrounding scenes. From the pier where we first entered the boat, to the place of final debarkation, at the upper extremi- ty of Katrine, is a distance of ten miles. Having completed the cruise, we seated ourselves upon a grassy bank, and examined the contents of our store- basket. It furnished but an indifferent meal, being pro- vided simply with such homely fare as the farm-house at Achray had afforded. But exercise, and the keen alpine air, which we had been inhaling, gave to the food a zest which is often looked for, in vain, in costlier viands ; — and on the whole, we had reason to think more favourably of the solid comforts of Ar- Itenacrohkan, than we were disposed to do on the evening previous. Before leaving the romantic shores of Loch Katrine, we cast a lingering look upon the enchant- ing beauties of the scene, and waving farewell to them, pursued our journey on foot over the moors and heaths to Loch Lomond, distant five miles. Our boatman, of whose amphibious capacity, I believe I have already made some mention, contin ued with us through the walk, being transformed into a porter, as well as cicerone. The tract of country on which we entered, was exceedingly wild and rugged. Scarcely a footpath led through it, and this at times almost deserted us ; so much so at least, that it was very difficult to trace its direction. We passed AND THE GRAMPIANS. 233 Loch Arklet, an expanse of water a mile or two ia length, enclosed amidst rocks and heaths. Its waters appeared of an inky blackness, and every thing around was sterile and dreary. A mile from Loch Lomond we came to Inversnaid, a ruinous fort that rose unexpectedly upon us, from amidst the surrounding desolation, like Tadmor in the desert. This fort was built for the purpose of protecting the bordering country, and those unwary travellers who were obliged to pass this way, against the depredations and outrages of gangs of free- booters, who formerly infested the district. Until within forty years, a small garrison was kept here ; but the need of a military surveillance no longer existing, the post was abandoned and the barracks have been suffered to go to decay. One wing, however, of the crumbling pile, still gives shelter to some poor family, who have attempted to arrest the ravages which time and the elements were fast making upon it, — and who dwell there in humble, and doubtless, contented obscurity. The fort is chieflv memorable for its having been assigned as a station to the celebrated General Wolfe, when a subaltern. In chasing, and engaging with the highland marauder, among the neighbouring- defiles and fastnesses, he had to contend with a foe little less cruel, vindictive or insidious, than the North American Indian, whom he was subsequcnth'^ obhged to encounter. In those youthful days, even when hope beat highest, he hardly looked forward 20 * 234 TOUR TO LOCH KATRINE to the brilliant though arduous career of action which he was destined to run ; and little did he foresee the laurels, which at some future day, he was to gather upon the snows of Canada, and still less that illustrious wreath, — steeped indeed in his dying blood, — which victory was to entwine around his brow upon the heights of Abraham. Curiosity and fatigue induced us to stop in the course of the walk, at a miserable cabin, where we were received very hospitably by the gude woman, who set before us cheese, barley-cakes, and milk. The room into which we were introduced was evidently the better of the two which the hut- contained. A fire-place was rudely constructed in one corner, in which a small fire was burning. The smoke after being conducted about three feet above the grate by a narrow chimney, or more properly, a sort of tunnel, was there left to itself, and of course obliged to find its way out as well as it could, through a hole in the thatch of the cabin above. The consequence was, that a great part of it preferred remaining behind to taking that trouble ; and the room, which was scarcely nine feet square, was so filled, that for some time we were unable to see across it ; and vv^e found still greater difficulty in our attempts at respiration. The dame, however, with her two or three chubby, sooty-faced children, did not seem to notice the evil, or experience the slightest inconvenience from it, and surprise was expressed on our remarking upon it. AND THE GRAMPIANS. 285 The first view of Loch Lomond was noble. The spot from which we obtained it, was very elevated, and we paused some time to enjoy the spectacle. So much of the lake as could be discerned from that position, was hemmed in by towering masses of rocks and mountains, which presented a sublime contrast to the lovely repose of the waters beneath. The sun was just sinking behind their loftier ridges, and poured a parting flood of radiance along the surface of the Loch. We descended with great difficulty to the shore ; — the path being exceedingly bad, and the declivity precipitous and abrupt. 'Twas oft so steep, the foot was fain Assistance from the hand to gain. The boat was on the other side of Loch Lomond, and our patience was put in requisition until it should return. A fire was kindled on the beach as a signal ; — but I was so excessively tired, that during the interval 1 stretched myself upon one of the rocks which overhung the water's edge, and obtain- ed a very comfortable nap. The small surge which feebly broke at the foot of my flmty couch, added to the murmur of a neighbouring waterfall, sung my lullaby. Just before entering the boat, which was an half hour afterwards, I had the curiosity to examine the interior of our ferry-man's house. And here, in- stead of the small part of a chimney which we saw 236 TOUR TO LOCH KATRINE in the cabin which we had visited on the way, there was not the slightest pretension to one. The fire, — what little there was, — was built upon a broad, rough stone, and two or three unhewn rocks were placed behind it to serve as supports to the fuel. The smoke, therefore, was literally left to shift for itself; and it found its way to every crack and crevice, (and they were many,) of the miserable apartment. Mr. R. and myself were almost choked by it.* * This hut was by no means an unfavourable specimen of the habitations of the highland peasantry in general. Prompted often by curiosity, and sometimes constrained for the sake of shelter, I visited numbers of them in the course of my highland tour : and not a few were decidedly worse than the wretched tenement on Loch Lomond side, which is mentioned above. It was not uncommon to find a dwelling constructed merely of mud, — in other words, of banks of turf sods, the grassy sides of which, being turned without, gave to these comfortless abodes the appearance, a little way off, of artificial knolls of earth, resembling barrows, or sepulchral tumuli. I have since visited the settlement of a tribe of Indians in my own country, and my personal observation enables me to assert with literal accuracy, that the ivigwams of these red men of the forest are at least equal, if not superior in comfort and accommodation to the cabins of the poorer Scottish high- landers. The wigwam of the North-American Indian is, in winter, a square building of convenient size, constructed of logs and other heavy timber, covered within with intertwisted branches of trees ; and his summer residence is a smaller struc- ture of a conical form, lightly built, with bark and slender rafters of wood ; — and each, in every respect, is far preferable to AND THE GRAMPIANS. 237 We were not long in crossing the lake, and landed at a small quay near Tarbert, where a servant was waiting to attend us to a small, but very neat and comi'ortable inn. June 1st. — This morning, the landlord of the inn entered my chamber to point my attention to some stanzas which many years ago were inscribed on a pane of glass in one of the windows which look toward Ben Lomond. The subject was the ascent of that mountain, and the verses I found executed in a somewhat better taste than the drivehng couplets the sheeling of any highland shepherd between the Grampians and the Moray Frith. The Indian moreover, in his diet, has manifestly the superiority over the Scotch mountaineer. He subsists upon the best game of the forest, as well as on the treasures which he draws from the sea and the sands; and at night, he reposes upon a couch as good at least, as that of any cottager in the North Highlands. For in place of a bed of heath and a plaid covering, he wraps himself in his warm blanket, and lies down upon branches of fir, and spruce, and hemlock. It is true, that saH:upe, squair^ and pappouse all chum together ; but they form a company somewhat more homogeneous than a domestic clan of piy,s, and poultry, and sheep, and dogs, and bairns^ with the good man and wife in the centre, which are often actually found at one and the same time, strewn over the ground-floor of a highland cabin. It is deemed no disparagement to add, that in point of general civilization, the remoter North Highlander may be ranked on the same footing with the Calmuck Tartar and the aboriginal Indians of the United States. From this remark the Clan Alpine Gael, or the native of the Southern Grampian ridge, is of course, meant to be excluded. Some observations have been offered above ou the subject of his charaqter. 238 TOUR TO LOCH KATRINE and rhymings which it is usual to see scratched on the windows and wainscoatings of taverns generally. The writer, it appears, having ascended Ben Lo- mond, was desirous that future travellers should be benefited by his experience. The advice is offered with much modesty and a tone of playful sincerity, and is really expressed in very gentlemanly and ap- propriate diction. The poem begins with, — Stranger, if o'er this pane of glass perchance Thy roving eye should cast a casual glance ; If taste for grandeur and the dread sublime Prompt thee Ben Lomond's fearful height to climb, Here stop attentive, nor with scorn refuse The fr;endly rhymings of a tavern muse. After this conciliatory exordium, and some further periphrasis, the poet proceeds to the main subject of his epic, and this he keeps in view with true Home- ric unity until the close. Trust not at first a quick advent'rous pace, Six miles its top points gradual from its base. Up the high rise with panting haste i passed And gain'd the long laborious steep at last. More prudent you., when once you pass the deep. With cautious steps and slow ascend the steep. A piece of advice which follows, must approve it- self to the taste of every way-worn traveller. Oh ! stop a while and taste the cordial drop. And rest. Oh ! rest, long, long upon the topj— AND THE GRAMPIANS. 239 The lameness of the latter of these lines is amply redeemed by two or three couplets which occur shortly after, descriptive of the relative position and aspect of Ben Lomond. Enormous groups ! while Ben, Avho often shrouds His lofty summit in a veil of clouds, Frowns o'er the rest exulting in his state, In proud pre-eminence sublimely great. The whole of this curious performance concludes with the lines, All this and more thou shalt with wonder see, And own a faithful monitor in me. The above verses are subscribed, " Thomas Rus- sell, Oct. 3d, 1771." — Beneath this is written, 'Alas, poor Russell! A. C. 1777;' — and then in another hand, ' He died soon after.' This is Sunday ; but there being no place of pub- lic worship at Tarbert, Mr. R. and myself concluded that the day could not be spent better than in con- templating the sublime scenery around us, the workmanship of nature, or rather of nature's Archi- tect. Accordingly we ordered a boat, and sailed down the lake with an intention of visiting some of the islands which crowd its southern expanse. The uncommon clearness of the weather, — there being not a cloud to be seen in the heavens, — showed Ben Lomond to the finest advantage. I observed my friend attentively surveying the distinctly-defined 240 TOUR TO LOCH KATRINE outline of the mountain, occasionally measuring with his eye the distance between the base and the sum- mit, and now and then, casting- a wistful glance at its topmost peak, — and I anticipated a proposal which I saw he was more than half-disposed to make, that we should land on the eastern shore of the lake, and scale the acclivities of this king of the Grampians. After a little deliberation, we decided that we would undertake the ascent of the mountain, and accord- ingly we altered our course and had the boat put up for Rowardenan. Arriving there, we found a company gathering upon a green near the public house, for the purpose of attending divine service. We mingled with the group and waited to hear the preacher's exhortation. He was of the itinerant class, — and had not a little of that canting, whining tone of voice, which in New England is sometimes denominated a puritanic twang — and which in this country is a very common distinc- tion, as well of the modern disciples of John Knox as the fanatical followers of Richard Cameron. In the appearance and manner of the preacher, there was nothing indeed, prepossessing ; but we were willing to listen for another object than that of idle cavil and criticism. It is the very furthest from my thought on such an occasion, to indulge in any vSpe- cies of levity. I cannot, and I wish not to divest myself of the conviction, that I stand in the same high and solemn relations to God and futurity, as do ttiy fellow-worshippers around me, — I mean, as re- AND THE GRAMPIANS. 241 spects my guiltiness, and by consequence, my un- worthiness of those messages and overtures of love which ' The same Lord, who is God over all,' vouch- safes unto men. I feel that one and the same sup- plication must ascend from my heart as from theirs ; that the incense of the same united prayers must rise from a common censer before the throne of the Eternal ; — and cherishing this conviction, many a time and oft has my heart been warmed with a glow of sympathetic feeling, my mind has been i^e freshed with salutary instructions, my soul quickened with holy fervours. At such seasons, the preacher, per 56, I very little regard : — it is enough for me that he manifests a love for souls — that he is truly desi- rous that his instructions be accompanied with the demonstration of the spirit and of power, and, withal, that he cherishes some scanty modicum of charity for those, who beg leave to dissent from the meta- physical subtleties which may be set forth in his own party creed. I must confess, however, that I have never yet met with those prodigies of preachers in distant and sequestered tracts of country which it is the happi- ness of some tourists to find without searching wher- ever they chance to travel. So flir as my own ob- servation goes, I am strongly inclined to suspect that very few have caught the mantle of James Waddel. At any rate, his kindred are far from being numerous in the glens of Scotland, and it was very evident that the preacher whom we heard to-day, was attached 21 .242 TOUR TO LOCH KATRINE to some other fraternity. To say truth, he wfis very ordinary in his line ; but yet as he manifested much of a tender, affectionate soUcitude for the spi- ritual welfare of those whom he addressed, there was reason to hope that the water of life which flowed from the text which he smote, found its way into more than one thirsty and drooping soul. Under the conduct of a guide, who was also fur- nished with our store of refreshments, we next com- menced the ascent of the mountain. To recount our many tedious steps, would be a task for which I have neither leisure nor inclination. It is sufficient to say, that after a toilsome climbing of three hours and an half, we at length arrived at the sum- mit, and enjoyed the noblest prospect of which Ca- ledonia can boast. Whilst ascending, indeed, the mountain, we had stopped several times to contem- plate the rich and varied scenery which spread it- self at our feet ; — and it was singular to mark the gradual enlargement of the field of vision, and the new aspects which objects and things from time to time assumed. But after all we were but little pre- pared for the extent and grandeur of the view which we obtained from the top. With feelings of wonder we surveyed the stupen- dous outline of mountains which undulated along the horizon from the commencement of the Ochill hills in the east, to Ben More on the north, and Crua- chan and Ben Nevis on the w^est. In this magnifi- cent chain were descried Ben VoirUch, Ben Har- AND THE GRAMPIANS. 243 row and Ben Lawers, and more westerly, the Paps of Jura, besides many lesser heights. Lookmg over the tops of these numerous mountains, the whole appeared like so many waves of the sea arrested, just at the moment of culminating at their fullest height ; — and their bald, craggy peaks an- swered well to the crested foam of towering, raging billows. In the hollows of the nearer mountains, we beheld verdant glens, and the glit- tering surfaces of the Perthshire lakes ; — and the eye, roving far to the southward, expatiated with delight on the rich plains of Stirlingshire and the Lothians, the soft vales of Renfrew, with the Frith of Clyde meandering through them, and in distant prospect, the city of Glasgow and the Rock and Castle of Dumbarton. Ben Lomond itself presents a very remarkable as- pect. To the south it stretches into gentle and easy slopes; but the north side exhibits a perpendicular face of rock, 1800 feet in height. The mountain seems on this side, anciently to have undergone some mighty disruption ; — huge fragments ar6 strewn in the wildest disorder at its base, and the appearance of things is the same as might be ima- gined to take place, provided some terrible earth- quake had cleft and disintegrated the northern shoulder, and scattered the broken masses confused- ly over the plain below. It is remarkable that Ben Ledi and Ben Venue, present each a similar aspect; and the accurate Dr. Graham of Aberfoyle, testifies 244 TOUR TO LOCH KATRIJVE from his own personal observation, that the same thing holds true of Ben Voirlich in Perthshire, Goatiieid in Arran, and the loftier momitains in CowaL Reserving for geologists the explanation and solution of these phenomena, I merely add, as respects the mineralogical structure of the moun- tain, that the rock consists chiefly of greenstone, in- termixed with masses of quartz, and plenty of wav- ing schistus. To recur to the subject of prospect ; — the finest object perhaps in the whole circuit of landscape as ^een from Ben Lomond, is the Loch of that name, which is spread out in magnificent relief, in all its length and breadth, bathing the skirts of the moun- tain, and extending for thirty miles from the hills of Arroquhar to the water of Leven at its outlet. It is the noblest lake in Great Britain, and fairly chal- lenges a tribute of admiration from every lover of the picturesque and grand in scenery. The shores of this lake present a remarkable union of the cha- racteristics of the Highland and Lowland landscape. The country bordering upon its lower extremity is in general level, but very fertile, and in the high- est state of cultivation. Distance softened the tints which embellished it, and gave them a peculiar de- licacy, and, if I may so speak, an harmony of co- louring, which was lovely beyond expression. The upper part of the lake is encompassed with the tall, rugged hills of Arroquhar, already mentioned, — which are grouped closely together, and hang AND THE GRAMPIANS. 245 v^ith a lowering, menacing aspect over its waters, as though interdicting its further ingress into the territories of the Celt. Seen from Ben Lomond, this section of the Loch bears a strong resemblance to the river Hudson, among the highlands, a little below Newburgh. The Hudson, however, is not so broad as the lake, nor are the New York highlands so lofty as the mountainous ridge of Arroquhar. From Rowarden- nan, the Loch begins to widen very materially, and between the pass of Bealmaha and the Boat of Bal- lock, on the opposite shores at its southern termina- tion, it is very nearly ten miles in breadth. Its sur- f\ice there is sprinkled with islands of the most ro- mantic beauty. Several of these islands are inhabited ; — others, are the privileged ranges of the deer, having only hunting-lodges upon them, tenanted by the foresters of their respective proprietors. Our guide pointed our attention to Inch Cailliach, which formerly was the burial place of the Macgregors, and which the inhabitants of the parish of Buchanan still use for the same purpose. Tiie yew trees which shade the cemeteries of Clan Aipine, were dwindled by dis- tance to the size of shrubs and coppice wood.-— • There was something* peculiarly enchanting in the appearance of this cluster of islands. They seemed to (ioat in the golden radiance which burnished the still wMters around them, and called up the imageis 21 * 246 TOUR TO LOCH KATlUNfi which my youthful fancy had sketched, of the fa- bled isles of the blest. Before beginning the descent of the mountain we examined the few plants which are met with near the summit, or rather satisfied ourselves that there were none of any consequence to be examined. We saw merely the Rhodiola rosea on the brow of several rocks, and the hardy sibbaldia procumbens, vegetating in the bleakest possible positions. Lower down, we found a profusion of the rubiis chamoemo- rus, a diecious plant, of the bramble species, bear- ing a very palatable fruit which ripens about the middle of July. — Botanists speak of the different ha- bits which the same plant assumes, when growing in vallies or upon the tops of mountains. Such chan- ges undoubtedly take place, but Ben Lomond is scarcely Alpine enough to make any material trans- formation of the nature supposed. At least this is my impression, and it is founded upon the little that 1 witnessed of the alchemilla and one or two other vegetables which, though natives of the plain, are seen growing spontaneously upon the sides of Ben Lomond, with aspects which it would require an eye more practised than mine to distinguish from those of the same species in the lower regions. On the skirts of the mountain and along the margin of the Loch, we saw several varieties of the Crj^pto- gamia class, — among them the royal flowering fern, a very pretty plant. AND THE GRAMPIANS. 247 Ben Lomond answers a more important end than merely administering food to the natural historian, or gratifying the taste of the lover of sublime sce- nery. To the inhabitants of the adjacent vallies, it serves as a barometer, and a very good one it proves. Whenever the air is highly transparent, and the mountain looms on the eye, and is seemingly magni- fied in its dimensions, rain is confidently predicted. On the contrary, when the atmosphere is hazy and the form and outline of the mountain are but dimly perceptible, appearing at a greater distance than usual, it is common to anticipate fair weather. It were to be wished that some such mountain were in yankee land, in order to save the meteorological calculations of a certain class of almanac seers, who are wont to fill up the blank spaces in the calendar of each month by gravely assuring the public that ' they may expect a considerable spell of weather about this time.' I omitted to mention that our path up the moun- tain led us over several patches of ice and snow. Near the summit, we crossed some banks of very considerable depth, and our guide informed us that it was rare that these glacial streaks disappeared wholly before the summer solstice. From the plain, however, they are scarcely, if at all, discernible at present ; the snows which remain, being chiefly imbedded under overhanging ledges of rocks. The top of the mountain, I should add, we found dry ; the thin soil which was spread over it was slightly 24S TOUR TO LOCH KATRINE tinned with the green of a few blades of short grass, as well as of the leaf of the Sibbaldia, which has been mentioned before. The descent of the mountain was very wearying, although accomphshed in much less time than we had employed in climbing it. There were two or three springs to which the guide had before conducted us, which we found it very convenient to revisit in our return. Mingbng the '• cordial drop' with the chrj'^s- tai water which bubbled from them, we succeeded with the aid of the little stock of provisions which we had taken with us, in repairing from time to time the partial exhaustion of our strength and spirits. We completed the laborious descent in season to en- joy, at the inn of Rowardennan, a dinner which we had ordered to be in readiness against our return, — and to embark for the opposite shore of the lake, just as the last beams of the sun were gilding the peaks of the surrounding mountains. We entered the boat with a throb of self gratu- lation in having accomplished what we were willing to consider, an undertaking of no small magnitude, — the toilsome ascent of Ben Lomond. But our complacency was soon damped, and the whole ex- ploit sadly cheapened in our estimation by the wag- srishness of our chief ferrvman. One of us asked him, ' if he had ever beea to the top x>f Ben Lomond V ' No, sir,' said he archly. AND THE GRAMPIANS. 249 ' What not been to the top of Ben Lomond V — we both inquired, affecting a tone of much surprise. ' No, gentlemen,' he replied ; ' but I have climb- ed many a mountain which 1 think much higher. I dare say that to you English travellers Ben Lomond may appear very well ; but take my word for it, he is one of the lightest fellows we have about here, — we think nothing of him.'^ ' And pray, where are those fine mountains which you speak of?' ' Why, look you yonder,' he rejoined, ' there are Ben Voirlich, and Benglo, and Bemwore, and further up, as you go to Fort William, you may see Ben Nevis, to say nothing of others. Why, sirs,' he add- ed, •• Ben Lomond is a mere baby compared with them.'' We could not however but think him rather big for a baby ; — he promises well at least. It so happen- ed, that during this conversation, we were sailing under the shadow of the mountain, — and from the point in which we were viewing it, it appeared to the finest advantage, towering majestically from the water's edge, and piercing the very clouds. The engagements of Mr. R***** admitting no lon- ger of his delaying his return to England, he had come to a determination of proceeding this evening to Luss, in order to take a conveyance the following morning, and commence his homeward route. Ac- cordingly we sailed to a point of land at a convenient distance from the village of Luss, where exchanging 250 TOUR TO LOCH KATRINE, &c. the parting salutation of hon voyage^ we took leave of one another, — deeply to my regret. I returned in the boat to Tarbert, and have since made arrange- ments to proceed on the morrow to Inverary, the capital of the west highlands. Thence after a short stop, I shall continue my solitary way, and bend my steps towards the hills of Morven. A WAT 1 A DAY IN LORN. It was about noon, when after a walk of ten miles, I arrived at a little eminence which looked down upon Lock Etive and the opening sound of Mull. The foot-path which I followed after leaving Kilch- renan, and the wild woody shores of Loch Awe had conducted me over a very rocky and mountainous country. It was not the direct route leading through Bunaw ; but one shorter and more sequestered which the shepherd's foot has chiefly beaten, saving that now and then it is paced by some adventurous po- ney at the imminent peril of his more adventurous master. Even to this path 1 was for from confining myself; but occasionally struck out a new track, and deviated as fancy and humour dictated. Mountains and moors and mosses were successively traversed ; and I felt a pleasure in bracing myself to the toils of a march which amply repaid my labour, in the various ob] jects of interest which from time to time caught the attentioq. 22 254 A DAY IN LORN. This whole section of country seems to have been more anciently peopled than any other part of Scot- land ; or at least to have been earlier rendered memorable. It is strewn with monuments of Pictish, Danish, and Druidical antiquity which read impres- sive lessons of the nothingness of earthly greatness, and demonstrate the pride and the littleness of man. I several times turned aside to inspect these remains, and surveyed them with no ordinary interest. — 1 have little of the zeal of an antiquarian about me, and per- haps not enough of his pruriency ; and yet I would any day deviate a full mile to see a solitary druid's . stone standing upon some lone heath, the memorial of a superstition once the terror and the curse of its votaries. It is true that reflection at such a spot is not al- ways of the most pleasurable nature. But it may be profitable ; — and from the contemplation of a moss- grown rock, made venerable by Its connection with an order of people that lived and moved and had a being, centuries out of mind ; — from a view of the scarcely distinguishable remains of a military mound which once braved the shocks, and outstood the tide of battles, but which has long been gradually wasting under the desolating hand of time ; — and even from the inspection of an humble sepulchral heap, — the grass-grown cairn^ — which marks the deposit of the ashes, perchance, of some cotemporary of an Oscar or a Fingal, — from any and all of these objects may a lesson be gathered of salutary import, and the A DAY IN LORN. 255 * still small voice' which they utter, may awaken emotions in the breast, at once deep and solemn. I know not how the feeling arose, but during the walk every thing around seemed to tell me that I was approaching the land of Ossian. And when I reached the heath-skirted waters of Loch Etive, each feature in the landcape that met the eye, ser- ved to confirm, or rather heighten the impression. The whole was distinguished by an air of simple grandeur, altogether indescribable, but singularly affecting. — Beyond the opposite shores of the frith and at no great distance, were descried the hills of Morven ; and they answered well the description given them by the bard of Fingal. A hood of mist just then concealed their summits, which however soon shifted, and rolled in huge, massy folds around their craggy acclivities. On the left shore of the Loch and a league or two distant, stood the vene* rable ruin of Dunstaffnage ; and opposite, on the isle of Mull, appeared Castle Duart, an ancient fortress, that once served as the stronghold of a chieftain of a powerful clan, and is still used to garrison a few troops in the service of the king. The solitude which reigned over these monuments of a far gone antiquity comported well with the general grandeur of the scene. The onl}'^ discerni- ble habitations of a modern date, were a hut on the brae-side by which I descended to the Loch, and oB the other shore, a well constructed, stone building, which with the addition of a second story, and if« 256 A DAY IN LORN. neat coat of white-wash, was readily recognised to be an highland inn. The latter house was pleasantly situated in the midst of a green velvet lawn, which sloped to the water's edge. Some straggling woods formed a selvage to this glade ; and rugged hills and "broken ridges of mountains constituted the back- ground. — It was a green spot in the desert, rendered interesting by the contrast which it bore to the sav- age wildness of the adjacent objects ; and no less so by the solid comforts which the little inn that crowned the centre, seemed to boast. I stopped for a moment at the hut mentioned above. It was a mere hovel. A little chubby-faced bairn of three or four, and a pair of well-fed pigs were the only inmates of the humble abode. — 1 en- deavoured to enter into something like conversation with the former,, but soon perceived that the latter were conversant with the most intelligible dialect ; — for what with a furious grunting and various significant menaces, too pointed to be mistaken, they gave me to understand that my presence was highly unwelcome. Accordingly I beat a retreat with as good a face as I could rally, not however without casting a second look around, which led me to suspect that my inhospitable reception M'^as in part owing to jealousy, lest I had come to share in the precious contents of a potatoe-pot which bubbled over the turf-fire, and which the young bairn, with his swinish associates, appeared to be stationed for the purpose of guarding. A DAY IN LORN. 257 Arriving at the shore, and finding that the boats attached to the ferry were all on the other side, I contrived by waving an handkerchief, to make signal for a skiff to put ojff for my transportation. It was not long before a boat, manned by two brawny high- landers, was shoved from the beach and shot athw^art the rippling tide. It quickly returned with me, and a few minutes afterwards I was conducted to the inn whose neat and modest aspect had regaled my eye from the opposite shore. Near the ferry where I crossed, Loch Etive dis- charges itself into the sea, or more properly into an arm of it which runs up between Mull and nether Lorn. I observed a singular phenomenon produced by a contraction of the loch to an incon- siderable width compared with the expanse both above and below, which occasions the water to rush with much violence through the strait, and form what is called in America, a rapid. This rapid I was told, and the fact I afterwards witnessed, — becomes at half ebb a foaming waterfall > the height of which at spring tides, varies from six to eight feet. Connei, the name of the ferry, takes its etymology from this ; — being a derivative from Conf-huil which signifies a turbid flood or cataract. Through partially fatigued by my morning's ram- ble, I allowed myself little time to rest at the inn on my first arrival, but ordered a boat to take me down the Lake to Dunstaffnage. This venerable relic of the Auld Lang Syne had rivetted my attention al- 22* 253 A ©AY IN LORN. most from the moment it came in sight ; and I was impatient to take a nearer view. In distant pros- pect, especially seen from Connel ferrj, it appeared familiar to me ; and this, in consequence of an accu- rate engraving of the structure which I remembered to have seen accompanying Pennant's tour in Scot- land. This castle is situated in one of the finest possible positions. It is built on a rock not far from the mouth of Loch Etive, the shore of which there forms a beautiful curve, and the waters expand within to a noble bay. Its own height is commanding ; and the rock on which it stands having been hewn into a regular, square form, and made precipitous in order to conform to it in shape, — its apparent altitude is much greater than the true. The masonry is rude and clumsy; but a short distance off, this is not dis- cernible. All is then picturesque and lovely ; and at the little kej whence I embarked on my visit to it, there was a softness thrown over it, which was al- together enchanting. We landed under a rocky ledge, and climbing the bank struck into a gravelled foot-path, now much tangled, and nearly overgrown with weeds and grass. This led to the castle entrance, and terminated at a flight of steps, communicating with the interiour. Ascending these, I found myself within the court of the ruin ; and my eye roved eagerly over the mas- sive walls and tall battlemented towers with which T was encompassed. A DAY IN LORN. 259 There was not much which called for particular attention. The building on three sides is little else than a shell ; although the walls are of surprising thickness. On the remaining side, it is preserved in tolerable repair. Lately, a convenient tenement has been erected against it, — forming a respectable appendage, and serving for a residence to the factor, or, to speak strictly, — a deputy of the factor of the Duke of Argyle, which nobleman is hereditary keep- er of Dunstaifnage under the crown. Permission was given me to ascend the walls and explore the ruin at my leisure. On a part of the ramparts, I stumbled upon a brass cannon, dismoun- ted, and well nigh imbedded in ivy. It was of very curious workmanship, and highly ornamented with appropriate devices, v.g. gorgon heads hypergriffs, et c(jet. The Dutch arms, or at least what I took to be such, were engraven upon it, and an inscription which I did not puzzle myself to construe, recorded probably the place and the artisan, where and by whom it was fabricated. By what means the cannon came there, I under- take not to divine. I confess however that I was sorry to meet with it ; for such was the force of as- sociation, and so much were my feelings under the influence of imagination that least of all, was I pre- pared to see the implements of modern warfare among the ruins of a pile which once was the abode of the Fergusses and Kenneths. Had a broken spear's head, or a fragment of a ' sounding shield' caught 26d A DAY IN LORN. my eye — either would have been in unison with my feelings ; and they were probably the objects which I was insensibly expecting. Be that as it may, I called to mind that this was anciently the place of deposit for Jacob's Stone — once the palladium of Scotland ; — and that so iar as regards the security of Dunstaffnage, the place of the relique may be pro- perly enough supplied by this modern safeguard. The substitute inherits, no doubt, the tutelary virtue of its renowned predecessor. I enjoyed highly the view from the walls of the castle. The water prospect was grand; and on the other side, the steep and rugged headlands, the mountains and hills and vallies that stretched into an extensive landscape, were on a nobleness of scale, seldom matched. To the south of the castle and distant about an hundred yards, is a decayed, roofless building which I at first presumed to have been formerly a chapel ; but on a nearer view, it proved to be a sort of mausoleum, only instead of one tomb, man}' graves were included within it. A description which Buchanan has left of some ruinous structure in lona, answers very well to the appearance of this, being — ' a tombe of stain formit like a wee chapelle, with ane braid gray mar- belle or guhin stain on y^ gavil of ilk ane of y« tombes.'* — In this of Dunstaffnage, — the flag-stone pavement as well as the enclosing walls, is lettered with many an epitaph of the long forgotten dead. * Buchanan's account of lona, published in 1549. A DAY IN LORN. 261 Like the mysterious roll of the prophet which was eovered within and without with mourning and la- mentation and woe, they tell the griefs of surviving relatives for the loss of affectionate kindred and dear- ly-loved associates, — relatives who themselves have long since paid the debt of nature, and whose mon- umental inscriptions in their turn, now ask ' the passing homage of a sigh.' On my return to Connel, one of the boatmen, to indulge his own garrulity, and haply at the same time to afford me entertainment, undertook to give an account of certain legends, current in the neighbourhood. First pointing my attention to the place where I had crossed the Lake, he asked in a tone of solem- nity, if I took notice of several rocks, which appear- ed in the rapids at equi-distances between the two banks ? I replied that I distinguished four ; and that those I had remarked when I first came down to the ferry, both from the singularity of their form and -position, and their close resemblance to each other. ' And what is there further observable in respect to them,' I inquired ? ' How did they come there ?' said he, ' you might rather ask.' On my changing the interrogatory in compliance with his suggestion, he replied, shaking his head, — '' no mortal hand ever put them there.' ' And in truth so it would seem.' 262 A DAY IN LORN. ' Aye, sir,' was the answer, ' but you do not take my meaning. There was De'il's work in yonder af- fair.' ' The Devil ? and so he has been sporting his pranks among j'^ou ?' The De'il has been amongst us, 1 very believe,' said the boatman very gravely, — ' but it is no sport when he makes Jiis appearance I can assure you, sir. Howbeit as for those rocks that I was speaking of, he only had his finger in that business. 1 hey say,' — he proceeded, lowering his voice, — ' that one black blasty night, a witch that was in league with Old Nick came to the Loch side to gain a pas- sage across. There was no ferry there then, and the water was very boisterous ; but the hag mutter- ed her spell, and a huge dam immediately rose at her bidding, and she crossed the Firth dry-shod.' ' And I am to understand, that the stones which I see, are a remnant of that night's labour.' ' You're right, you're right,' he answered ; ' the water being suddenly checked, gradually rose to the surface of the dam, and then rushed over it with such force that part of it was swept away. Those square rocks indeed were left; and enough of the whole remains to make the tumbling and foam in the wa- ter which you perceive ; — and a meikle tough pull, I trow does it make for us, whenever we attempt to fetch the boat across the current.' Finding that I had touched the right note in the gamut of my friend, the boatman, — (there was only A DAY IX LORN. 26« ©ne other person in the skiff, who assisted in work- ing it, and he, not understanding English, merely spoke when interrogated in Gaslic by his companion respecting the accuracies of date or circumstance.) — I accordingly pursued my inquiries in relation to the popular superstitions of the vicinity. ' From the wonderful account friend, which you have just given me,' said I, ^ I am led to infer that evil spirits have been abroad among you, or at least that there have been those who have held correspondence with the prince of darkness.' ' Ah !' said he,' shame it is, to have happened; but in truth it is so. Witches were plenty in this country once ; Mull was full of them.' * And ! presume that you have treasured,' I con- tinued, ' many a rare story of their exploits.' ' Oh, I know full enough of their doings. They carried on at a high rate, by my troth. 'J here was no escaping their clutches when once they had a mind to vex the pair people that lived in these parts.' — Then, with a stroke of his oar, shifting the head of the boat so as to bring the eastern pro- montory of Mull into a side-view, — ' yonder is Cas- tle Duart,' said he, ' and a flag which in a clear day may be seen waving over it, is the standard ot George of Hanover But long ago, that post was held by the chiefs of the clan M'Lean, — and a sad set they were in the olden age. ' Once on a time,' he proceeded, (but not without fixing a twinkling grey eye keenly upon me, expect- ing, no doubt, that his words were ab©ut to " harrow 264 A DAY IN LOKN, up my soul," and " freeze my young blood,").:*-* once on a time^ a daughter of the king of Spain came to visit Icolmkill, — where was in the auld days a monastery with scores of priests and monks ; — and daring her stay hereabouts she landed at Mull and visited M'Donald, lord of the Isles. He was a brave gallant, and entertained her very hospitably. But M'Lean was jealous of all this ; and moreverhe owed M'Donald a grudge from some quarrel they aforetime had. So one day, when there was a feast at Arros where M'Donald lived, he went there with a pack of carls — the veriest bairns of Satan, who always trooped at his heels, — and coming upon the company by surprise, succeeded after a short scuffle, in getting possession of the person of the princess, and carrying her off, along with M'Donald, to Castle Duart.' ' Why that was a base deed, truly ; but what con- nexion had all this business with the agency of witches V ' All in due course, sir,' said he — ' the result you will soon hear.' ' M'Donald was put into the keep ; but the prin- cess, M'Lean treated very well, and wished to make her his wife. But when the news of what had hap- pened reached Spain,' — (by what channel was not mentioned) — ' the king was very wroth, and he im- mediately fitted out a great galley, and sent it to Mull, with orders to the chief officer, besides rescu- ing his daughter, to lay waste all M'Lean's posses^ Sions, and batter his castle about his ears." A DAY IN LORN. 265 ' And was M'Lean idle all the while ?' ' Not he. He suspected that something was in the wind ; and therefore sent out and engaged all the witches between Andnacraig and Tabermawry to repair to Castle Duart ; and they consented to lend him a hand and defend him in case of extremity. ' Well, the ship came and anchored under the cas- tle lee ; and a message was sent to M'Lean, to de- liver up the princess. He recked not for the sum- mons : and preparations were forthwith made on board the galley to assault the castle on the follow- ing day. * Now the captain himself was a witch^ (my in- formant by the bye, little heeded the distinctions of gender) and as he walked the deck in the evening, he was strangely disturbed and ordered a boy to mount to the mast head and inform him of what he saw. The boy obeyed, and reported that he spied a black crow hovering about the main peak. — Not long after he was again sent up, and descended saying that he saw two others in company with the former. — '• Well, well,' said the captain, — ' let 'em come ; they will find me a full match for them, though they seem to gather pretty fast.' — A third and a fourth time, the boy was ordered aloft, and announced that he saw another and another black crow ! ' When the messenger had once more descended and said that there were six crows perched in differ- ent parts of the rigging, the captam cried out — ' Lack-a-day ! we shall have hot work, I ken : but 23 266 A DAY IN LORN. never fear, my lad, I can manage these too.' — No- thing daunted the sailor-boy shortly run up the rat- lins again, in compliance with his master's wishes, and espied another and a seventh black crow ! This last intelligence filled the captain with dismay. — ' It is all over with us,' — he exclaimed ; ' the imps are too many for me. I could have coped with six of them; but seven black crows are quite an over- match !' /^ And it happened as he predicted. — The sky soon darkened ; — a tempest began to lower ; — the water assumed an inky hue, and shortly swelled into bil- lows ; — the cable parted from the prow ; — the galley was whirled round and round, — and in no long time, it sunk amid the waves, and not a soul on board escaped to tell the horrors of the catastrophe !' ' You really relate a marvellous occurrence,' said I to the boatman, when he had finished his tragic tale, — ' and do you honestly believe it to be true ?' ' True, sir ; true !' he repeated, (at the same time suspending the operation of rowing, as if overcome with astonishment at my skepticism ;) — ' as true, sir, as that you are a southron.""^ ' Why, you mistake me, Mr. Boatman ; if I may judge by the emphasis of your manner. I did not mean to imply a shadow of doubt on my part * The Highland Scotch call all indiscriminately Southrons who are supposed to live between the waters of Teith and the English channel. The Lowlanders confine the term to those, who reside to the southward of the river Tweed. A DAY IN LORN. 26T respecting the authenticity of what you have just communicated; but only wished to ascertain the stren«^th of your own faith." He shook his head ; — and in fact the whole was no apocrypha to him ; but was as confidently believed in, as the creed of the kirk-covenanters. ' But have you any witches or wizards,' I asked, * now-a-days among you ?' ' Oh, no ;' said he, ' thank God they have all dis- appeared. Since I was a boy, there iiave been none in these parts, — at least none that have worked us any mischief.' ' And how do you account for this ?' ' With leave, sir,' he replied, — ' that is a very simple question. When the De'il was abroad with his charms, and familiar spirits were common in the land, 'twas in the day of the Stuarts. They cared nothing about the preaching of the gospel ; and minded little how the puir people suffered for want of godly ministers and chapels, and sic like. But when the Georges of Hanover came to the throne, then ministers were sent among us, and churches were built, and christian bells were sounded, — and so the old haggles all fled. Tor they would as lief smoke in the De'il's linn as come within the hearing of the kirk-bells.' Whilst I was musing upon the philosophy of this explanation, and ruminating on the general train of sentiment with which I had been edified, the boat was fast approaching the little pier from which I had taken my departure. 368 A DAY IN LORN. The weather after my leaving" Dunstaffnage had been singularly changeful, — alternately fair, misty and showery, — so that every few minutes I was obliged to spread an umbrella in order to be screen- ed from a smart fall of rain ; after which in no long time, the sun would break from the clouds and shine for an interval, with great splendour. Morvern was several times totally shrouded in vapour ; and again its towering summits were seen with perfect distinct- ness. — Despite of the prosing of the boatman, and the amusing quaintness of many of his remarks, I was glad to shift my situation ; and well pleased to escape from further exposure to the fitful changes of sky and weather — to the snug quiet of the little ian of Connel. %' TO THE GRAVE OF COL. GARDINER, 23 * ISl^ TO THE GRAVE OF COL. GARDINER r AR be from me and my friends,' said Johnson, ' such frigid philosophy as may conduct us, indif- ferent and unmoved, over any ground that has been dignified by wisdom, bravery or virtue. That man is Uttle to be envied, whose patriotism would not gain force upon the plains of Marathon, or whose piety would not grow warmer among the ruins of lona.' The sentiment which breathes through this noble passage is one which finds a response in the bosoms of most men. It is not the few but the many who feel the power ot association adding new interest to the scenes of distingU'shed events ; and who expe- rience unwonted kindlings of pleasurable sensibility in surveying spots where deeds of ' high emprise' have been achieved : and where the wise and the good have toiled and suffered in the cause of huma- nity. The imagination at such times practises upon 272 VISIT TO THE GRAVE our feelings. We yield ourselves up voluntarily to its sway ; and the mind becomes the sport of fancy. To analyze the satisfactions which spring from this source, is a curious but no easy problem. It is enough for the present purpose to observe, that in general they are purely factitious. This is appa- rent from the emotions awakened b}'^ the review of any scene of battle. — The traveller who crosses a field whereon some hard-fought conflict was once waged, if ignorant of the events which there took place, beholds it with no other concern than that which its natural aspect or local characteristics may call forth. But let him be told that there two pow- erful armies once commingled in deadly strife ; that there mighty feats of martial daring have been wrought ; and that there amid many a ' glorious danger,' has the blood-stained laurel been gathered, — and how different the feelings which then swell in the breast.— If haply the muse has sung of those proud achievements ; — and if too, the creative fan- cy of the poet has ' bodied forth' scenes of its own conception, and interwoven them with descriptions of sober fact, the individual contemplates with still deeper attention the little circumscribed spot which accident has thus signalised. But in most cases, the ideal gratification so afford- ed is of short continuance ; and the feelings where- in it is founded, seldom admit of being similarly ex- erted by a second view of the self-same objects and scenes. — There is one spot, however, which can OF COL. GARDINER. 275 ever be visited with emotions equally lively, though solemn. It is the grave of the christian hero ; and there is not the man, I conceive, who is endued with the least portion of sensibility, that can contem* plate with indiiference the green turf which fresh- ens over the mortal remains of one who in life was honoured, and in death bewailed. The interest, in fact, which the mind then feels, originates more or less in sympathy. Death being a lot common and inevitable to all, we naturally look upon the grave as a memento of our own frailty. It is another tro- phy, commemorative of another triumph, which the king of terrors has won over a fellow-mortal ; and it sternly reminds us that ere long we too shall fall under the power of the same ruthless foe, and a new monument shall be reared over our wasting frames. At the grave of the truly good man, moreover, a lesson, directly beneficial, may be acquired. — Re- flection on the virtues which fitted him for the change of death, naturally prompts within us the pious resolve, so to discipline ourselves in the du- ties of the moral man, as that, like him, we may await with calmness and intrepidity of soul the arri- val of the hour when we shall be required to bid adieu to present scenes, — and when our own mortal bodies will be consigned to darkness and to dust. There is beside all this, an illusion which I am ever wilHng to indulge at such a consecrated spot. When I approach the hallowed depository of the 274 VISIT TO THE GRAVE remains of the virtuous and excellent, I fancy my- self to be brought into something like a nearness to the individuals themselves. Imagination calls up their departed shades, and enters, as it were, into converse with them. Nor can 1 easily divest myself of the persuasion that the disinthrailed spirit that once animated a body of clay still hovers around the spot where its earthly tabernacle is laid, and that it shares intuitively in the consciousness of those who repair thither to meditate on distinguished excel- lence, or to drop a tear to departed worth. Influenced by some such feelings as I have at- tempted to express. I resolved the other day, on a visit to Tranent church-yard, to explore the burial- place of the celebrated Col. Gardiner. From my earliest years I have been taught to re- vere the memory of that great man. Great, I will call him ; for j believe him to have been eminently good. And if the simple, but touching narrative of his life and conversation, as traced by the pen of the pious Doddridge, be entitled to any credit, — it is impossible to doubt, that from the period of his con- version, he was no less pre-eminently faithful as a soldier of the Cross, than distinguished for his valour and loyalty in the service of his earthly prince. 1 am well aware that there are those who reject the marvels in the life of Gardiner, which his bio- grapher, nevertheless, has made no scruple in re- cording. The preternatural manner in which a OF COL. GARDINER. 275 happy change of his moral temper and feelings and habits is related to have suddenly taken place, is distrusted by some, and avowedly disbelieved by others. And many to account, — effectually as they pretend, — for the seeming miraculousness of the as- serted chang-e, maintain that the impression suppo- sed to have been made upon his wakmg senses, was only the idle wandering of a dream. I am not disposed to enter into a discussion on these topics ; much less to contest formally the point with those who will have it, that nothing su- pernatural was sensibly presented to the gaze of the convert to produce the change which, it is agreed, actually took place. I cannot, nevertheless, relin- quish the opportunity to remark that in my own humble judgment, the difhculty in the case is by no means removed, by resolving the overpowermg in- fluence which all at once was made upon the mind of Gardiner, into some of the accidental phenome- na of sleep, rather than into the realities of a wak- ing consciousness. The Sovereign Disposer of events can no less effectually, as well as miraculous- ly operate on the human heart when the bodily fa- culties are locked up in slumber, than when there is an entire and indisputable exercise of its powers in a state of watchfulness. — Besides, every eifect must have an adequate cause ; and a complete trans- formation of character, from profligacy to purity of moral demeanor, is a result too great to be brought about by the idle vagaries, or some fortuitous im- 276 VISIT TO THE GRAVE pulse, of a dream. Such an event would be a mi- racle with a witness. To me it appears that much of the reluctance which exists, to accredit the sudden marvellous change which Doddridge describes to have been wrought on the character of his friend, is ascribable to the gross abuses to which the doctrine, which it is oftentimes brought to prove, is confessedly liable. The impositions which have been palmed upon the credulity of mankind under the name of conversions, have occasioned in many minds an utter skepticism respecting the truth and genuineness of any. But the falsity of a thousand cases will not necessarily disprove a single one so well attested as is the in- stance of Col. Gardiner. The testimony of his bio- grapher is at least too high to be set aside by a mere unsupported negatur. And to an unprejudiced mind it would seem, that to question the reality of his conversion, — a conversion, moreover, effected in a way the most extraordinary, — is, at best, a dis- pute about words. For, certain it is, that in early life Gardiner was noted for his libertinism and irreli- gion ; and certain it equdliy is that from and after a given period he was proverbially exemplary in the discharge of every moral and religious duty. For the space of six and twenty years, he steadily evinc- ed the sincerity of his christian professions, in des- pite of the most trying temptations and discourage- ments ; and the faith which he espoused he labour- ed assiduously to adorn and recommend.~Nor were OF COL. GARDINER. 277 his efforts unavailing. The influence which he en- joyed in the elevated station wherein he moved, was successfully appUed to the promotion of the moral welfare of those on whom that influence could act ; and thus through his single instrumentality were the blessings of religion more extensively diff'used, and many a stubborn knee was made to bow in humble reverence at the foot of the Redeemer's cross. A friend who entertained for the memory of Gar- diner a veneration allied to my own, was induced to accompany me on my visit to the place of his sepul- ture. The excursion which we projected enabled us to embrace other objects besides that particularly contemplated ; and chiefly the field of Preston Pans, where the hero fell ; — and where on the same occa- sion, the forces of the Pretender gained a decisive victory over the royal troops. We entered a coach in High-street, and took seats for Musselburgh. Leaving the city by the Canon- gate, we proceeded through a beautiful country, first to Porto Belio, — a pleasant village, the minia- ture of Margate, — celebrated tor its excellent baths, and the Bethesda virtue of its waters. Continuing our route, we passed two or three ele- gant villas ; one of which was the seat of the Mar- quis of Abercorn. Not long after, the North Esk was met, which we crossed by a neat stone bridge, and entered Musselburgh. There we left our con- veyance, and prepared to accomplish the residue of our excursion on foot. 24 278 VISIT TO THE GRAVE The morning being lowering we provided our- selves with umbrellas ; — and leaving Musselburgh, bent our steps towards the village of Preston Pans. The walk led us along the sea-coast, and afforded se- veral picturesque views of the Islands of the Forth, with the opposite coast of Fife. Edinburgh, with its amphitheatre of hills, formed a noble object to the north. We crossed a corner of Pinkie field, where the battle of that name was fought between the Scots and English, in the middle of the sixteenth century; and two miles further, we arrived at Preston Tower, rendered famous by the more eventful action of 1745. The battle ground comprehended the site of this tower, and stretched to the southward and westward of it. The surface of the land is uneven and waving ; and slopes gradually from some heights on which the village of Tranent is built, to the shores of the Frith of Forth. The ground is now well tilled ; and intersected with many quick-hedges. We had walked over a part of the field when a shower overtook us ; and we were constrained to seek shelter under the lee side of a hawthorn row, about a stone's cast from the venerable ' Thorn 1 ree be- sides the meadow-mill.' Our covert being on the declivity of a rising ground which commanded a view of the scene of combat, we were enabled to calculate the relative advantages and disadvantages of the positions occupied by the two armies anterior to the engagement. The odds in this respect were manifestly against the EngUsh ; but yet this is OF COL. GARDINER. 27« by no means sufficient to account for the shameful reverse which their arms sustained on this fatal field. They were probably dispirited by being withheld from engaging the enemy on the night preceding the general conflict, notwithstanding their expressed wishes to that eifect ; — a measure which Gardiner himself strongly urged ; and had his prudent and he- roic counsel been followed, victory might not only have declared itself in favour of the loyalists, but his own valuable life been preserved, the sacri- fice of which is enough to render forever hateful the memory of the rebel cause.* We were not long confined to our shelter. The passing cloud soon spent itself; and we resumed our walk towards Tranent kirk. When we reached the church yard, we looked eagerly round for some sculptured monument which might betoken the tomb of Gardiner. We agreed to prosecute the * The irresolute conduct of the insurgents after their success at Preston Pans, evinced a fatuity no less surprising than the pusillanimous conduct of the English in battle. Had they, instead of investing the Castle of Edinburgh, and inactively awaiting its reduction, by one bold push marched direct for Eng- land, the capital of the United Kingdom would most probably have fallen into their hands, and perhaps a Stuart been once more seated upon the throne of the British realm. But want of con- sistency and vigour in their schemes, led to speedy disaster and defeat; and the measures which they resorted to for the pur- pose of accomplishing their revolutionary aims, not only result- ed in their own utter discomfiture, but in the augmented stability and triiimnhaut ascendant of the house of Brunswick. 280 VISIT TO THE GRAVE quest separately ; and selecting different portions of- the ground, were each emulous to anticipate the other in making* the desired discovery. But our re- spective searches were fruitless. The many epi- taphs on which the eye hastily glanced, were chief- ly remembrancers of those who, '' alike to fortune and to fame unknown,' had lived and died upon the spot where they had been born. Some records there were of the virtues and excellencies of a ieyv^ who were gone to inherit in a better world the re- compence for which they had toiled, and that happi- ness which had been denied to them in this ; but among the inscriptions which caught the gaze in every direction, there was none that told the death, or rehearsed the transcendent excellence of Gar- diner. Disappointed and surprised, we enquired of an el- derly man who chanced to pass near the cemetery, if he could point out the spot where Colonel G. was interred ? He said that ' he had heard that some meikle officer, that had been slain on yon field, had been buried in or anent the kirk, but where, he nae ke'nPd.'* — Shortly after, we hailed another passenger and addressed the same enquiry, not however with equal hope of satisfaction, as he belonged to a later generation. The question was listened to with a look expressive of the vacancy of ignorance ; and after a moment's pause, as if for the purpose of tasking his memory, he replied, that he had never heard of such a man ! OP COL. GARDINER. 28l Notwithstanding these disheartening answers, we were not disposed to relinquish enquiry. Possibly, thought we, the tomb we seek may be within the walls of the church. To ascertam this point, I ap» plied at a neighbouring house, which proved to be the manse, (^anglice^ a parsonage ;) the lady of which with great civility gave the information desired. She stated that the remains of Colonel G. were en- tomed without the kirk ; and apprised me of some particulars which might identify the spot. The lady added, that the house which she then occupied was the one to which he was borne after the battle, and where he breathed his last. During the conversation, an aged, decrepit wo- man was seen moving up the village hill, in a direc- tion towards the church. Her hgure was bent low with years ; and a staff supported her tottering steps. — ' There' said my kind informant ' is Mistress* ; she supplies the place of parish beadle : — and gladly will she conduct you to the spot you are in search of.' Rejoining my companion, I acordingly put myself under the guidance of the sybil, whose appearance indicated that at least for two generations she had been the ' sad historian of the pensive plain.' The sight of a piece of Silver brightened her rheumy eye, * The Scotch in general, pronounce Mrs. like the word from which it is contracted, in the manner written above ;— as, Jlfw- stress A., Mistress B., Hic. 24 * 282 VISIT TO THE GRAVE and quickened partially the movements of her limbs, as we again entered (^Teucro auspice,) on the church- yard way. Arrived at the spot, she pointed to a gentle rising on the surface of the green earth ; — ' that' said she, ' is the grave of Gardiner.' ' And is that all ?' — we both exclaimed. — ' That's all,' was the answer. And most true it is, that no monument, not even a stone marks the ground where sleeps this extraordinary man, a man, whom Caledonia may well be proud to have enrolled among her best and bravest sons. I beheld, however, the naked turf with veneration ; and dropped upon it a spontaneous tear to the me- mory of the blest — the sainted Gardiner. The dame asserted that there never had been a monument erected over the grave of G . Formerly indeed, she said, the spot where he lies was much more distinctly marked ; but about eigh- ,teen years since, the church was altered and much of it rebuilt; and being near the Colonel's grave, the latter was often trampled upon, and the heap ^nearly levelled. That no more respect has ever been paid to the place of his ashes, — that not even a humble, sepulchral tablet attests its identity — may iastly excite our wonder when we reflect that inde- pendently of his noble* connexions, and the high * Colonel Gardiner was married to the Right Hon. Lady Frances Ersldne, sister of the late Earl of Buchan, and aunt to the pre- sent Lords Buchan and Erskine. OF COL. GARDINER. 283 military station which he filled, (that of full Colonel of a regiment of dragoons, an office, generally held by persons of titled rank,)— all the honour, or rather redemption from complete disgrace, which redound- ed to the arms of his sovereign in the action where- in he fell, was due to himself alone. But his illus- trious name requires not the factitious aid of brass or marble to give it perpetuity. On the page of hfe, it is inscribed in characters never to be erased ; — and upon earth, so long as religion shall have its votaries, or piety be revered, it shall be cherished in devout remembrance. Ne'er to the chambers where the mighty rest, Since their foundation came a nobler guest ; And ne"'er to bovvers of bliss has been conveyed A fairer spirit, or more welcome shade. TicktWs El. on Addison. Leaving the church yard, we commenced our re- turn-walk to Musselburgh. We made a slight detour in order to view Bankton House, the property of Colonel Gardiner during the last years of his life. It is situated about a mile from Tranent, and not far from the scene of his death. It is remarkable that the wall which encloses the outer park attached to the residence, is one of the boundaries of PrestoQ fields. It was against it that the hero made his last stand, when he rallied the little band which alone re- mained true to him j and there it was that he poured 284 VISIT TO THE GRAVE out his life-blood, litefally in defence of his ' home and his fireside,' no less than of his country and his God. The house and grounds of Bankton, have un- dergone little alteration since the days of Gardi- ner. The former is a neat commodious mansion, constructed of stone in an antiquated taste, with an high pediment in the roof both in the front and rear. A range of offices extends on either side, answering each to the otber, aad termmated by small towers. There is an extensive enclosure of grass land roand the house, planted with noble trees, chiefly beech, elms and yews. An aveaue of these leads from the main gate-way to the door of the mansion. They have attained a great age ; and make a stately and venerable appearance* As soon as the battle of Preston Pans turned in favour of the rebels, a party of them entered and sacked Bankton house. The colonel's papers were destroyed, or scattered in confusion. Every article of value was pillaged, even, says his biographer, * to the curtains of the beds and hangings of the rooms.' The house itself was converted into an hospital for the reception of the wounded in the battle. If any thing could have added to the grief of Lady Gardiner and her surviving offspring in the irrepara- ble loss sustained by the death of colonel G., it must have been these deeds of outrage and rapine committed by the insurgents. For the first event, — namely, a final separation from her loved and hon- OF COL. GARDINER. 285 oured partner, the former seems to have heen in some measure prepared by the affecting mterview which she is described to have had with him in Stir- ling castle, a few days prior to the battle, — when he spoke as though confidently anticipating his end to be near. But she little imagined the circumstances of barbarity with which his death was to be accompa- nied ; nor the depredations and excesses which the lawless hand of a cruel soldiery were shortly to commit in the very bosom of that home, where he had spent his happiest, holiest hours. But under the augmented weight of her affliction Lacly G. bore up with a fortitude seldom surpassed; and such proofs of exalted piety did she exhibit during the series of years she survived in widowhood, that her name is still precious in the remembrance of many, and a new lustre thereby added to the name of Gar- diner. I cannot leave the present subject without ex- pressing the satisfaction which I have experienced, in common doubtless with others, in recognising in a seemingly fictitious character introduced in the popular work of VVaverley, the identical personage on whose character I have been remarking. The colonel G. whom the author alluded to, intro- duces as the commander of the regiment, in which his youthful hero was commissioned, is the self- same colonel Gardiner who is eulogized by Dod- dridge, and who fell a martyr to his loyalty on the field of Preston Pans. His character, thouj^-h not studiously portrayed, is finely and accurately touched 286 VISIT TO THE GRAVE by the writer ; and whenever mention is made of him it is in terms of distinguished respect, I am free to confess indeed that on my first open* ing ' Waverley' that best, perhaps, of those singular- ly happy and entertaining productions which have of late flowed from the pen of some mysterious Un- known,* and finding that the venerated Gardiner was brought upon the tapis for the purpose of play- ing some conspicuous part, — I was fearful that in the jostling and collision of events which it was na- tural to anticipate, — all that respect might not be shewn to his character which it justly claims ; and that possibly its dignity might be lowered amid the changeful scenes in which he would be made to act. But in this, I did injustice to the designs of the excellent author in question. The simple, un- altered character of Gardiner, — in itself sufficiently romantic — he clearly saw to be admirably adapted to the genius of his conceived work ; and availing himself of its native proportions, he has brought it to bear with striking effect upon a variety of particular incidents, as well as upon the general fabric and tis- sue of his story. The remarks passed upon colonel G. when his name first occurs in one of the introductory chapters of Waverley, cannot fail to awaken a strong interest in him, in the bosom of the * The above remarks were written at a time when the public mind was divided as to the author of Waverley and the other < Scotch novels,' so called. It is unnecessary to add, that at present, there is no shadow of reasonable doubt that the writer is any other than Sir Walter Scott. OF COL. GARDINER. 287 reader. The danger depicted to have happened to him on the eve of preparation for engaging with the rebels, when, mounted on a gallant steed and distinguished by his commanding form, he rode lei- surely over the battle-ground, and inspected the ene- my's position, — deepens the solicitude which we are made to feel in his behalf. And in the detail of the events of that fatal day which transmitted him to his immortal crown, this solicitude is still further aug- mented ; and concern for his welfare divides, and for an interval, well nigh engrosses all our sympa- thies. With a painful interest the imagination fol- lows him through the perils which fast thickened around him : and when at length the author paints the death-scene, when he represents the hero as falling covered with wounds and sinking under the tide of battle, so powerfully does he appeal to the finer sensibilities within us, that cold must that heart be which does not swell with unwonted emotion — unmelting that eye which is not moistened with a tear* of sympathising sorrow. But I must bring my remarks to a close. From some early association, I know not how acquired, every thing which recals the remembrance of the subject of the foregoing reflections, I dwell upon with a kindling satisfaction ; and the very name of Gardiner exerts a magic influence over my heart * A stroke with a Lochaber axe is supposed to have inflicted the mortal wound. A weapon of this name is shewn in the Tower of London said to be the self-same instrument which occasioned the colonel's death. 288 VISIT TO THE GRAVE OF COL. GARDINER. and feelings. It is an influence to which I am wil- ling to submit. For never can I contemplate the brightness of his example from the period when re- ligion first found a lodgment within his bosom, with- out perceiving a new lovelmess in christian piety. Never can I reflect on his unshaken firmness of soul, his magnanimity in the hour of death, without silently ejaculating, ' Let me die the death of that righteous man.' And never can I ponder the prin- ciple which lent him support in that awful juncture, without breathing an impassioned aspiration that the same principle may sustain my own soul in the near prospect of the future world, and point out to my own, as to his enraptured gaze, — ' The chariot of Israel and the horsemen thereof It was not until the day had far declined, that my friend and myself completed our walk over the scenes I have attempted to sketch. We reached Musselburgh in convenient season to insure a con- veyance to the city in the evening coach. We left that village as the sun's parting rays glanced upon the ridge of the Pentlands. It was an enchanting evening. The clouds which canopied the setting luminary were decked with gorgeous colourings. The air wafted a balmj'^ fragrance ; and the face of nature around smiled with the returning signs of vernal freshness and verdure. An hours ride brought us to the end of our stage, and we alighted at our quarters in the New Town. Edinburgh, March, 1817. PILGRIMAGE TO AND DRYBURGH ABBIES. »6 ^la^miMA© TO MELROSE AND DRYBURGH ABBIES, JULY, 1817. A FEW days ago, being then on the eve of my final departure from Scotland, I made an hasty excursion into Tweeddale. My object was twofold. 1 was desirous of viewing Melrose Abbey ruins, and also of paying my respects to the noble proprietor of Dry- burgh, who had honoured me with repeated invita- tions to visit him at his manor on Tweedside. I left Edinburgh in a morning coach for Selkirk, and traced thus far a route familiar to me. About six or seven miles from Selkirk, where the Tweed first makes its appearance, I entered upon the Scot- tish Arcadia. Under this appellation may be com- prehended the whole of that lovely tract of country which begins with the sources of the Yarrow, Et- trick and Teviot waters, and following the windings of those streams until their junction with Tweed, next spreads itself along the margin of the latter through the remainder of its course. The scenery within this district is distinguished for its romantic and pastoral beauties; and to these the muse has nZ PILGRIMAGE TO MELROSE added new charms by the many interesting associa- tions in which she has invested them. From the place where Tweed came in sight, the road followed its bank for several miles. It parted from it a mile or two distant from Selkirk, and shortly after crossed the river Ettrick, not far from its union with the other stream. The town of Sel- kirk is pleasant. It is situated on an eminence ; and to one approaching it from the north is a fine ob- ject. Leaving the coach at Selkirk, and having ordered dinner at a late hour, I rambled out to survey what- ever of interest I might find in the environs. Re- crossing the Ettrick, I struck into a footpath on the left, which was seen threading its way through the green sward which carpeted the borders of the stream. In the meanderings of this stream there was a peculiar prettiness. Its waters, too, were ve- ry limpid ; and these sparkled in the sun-beam as they brawled petulantly along, and hurried over the few obstacles which they encountered in their course. The Ettrick abounds with excellent trout j and during the walk I passed several men who were angling for them. Along the riverside are fine ver- dant meadows, and fields which are beginning to wave with an abundant harvest. — I know not how it happened, but there was something connected with the appearance of the Ettrick which carried me back forcibly in imagination to the banks of the dearly-loved stream which flows through my native Tillage. For a moment I forgot that 3000 miles in- AND DRYBURGH ABBIES. 293 tervened between me and home. Distance was no longer remembered. Years too rolled back ; the halcyon scenes of my boyish sports rushed vividly to my mind ; and I almost fancied that I was again treading upon the margin of the peaceful N , where Oft my careless childhood strayed, A stranger yet to pain. The illusion was of short continuance, but it left an impression on my feeUngs which served greatly to heighten the interest of surrounding scenes. Hav- ing walked two miles or more along the Ettrick, I came to its confluence with Yarrow, and obtained my first view of that romantic little stream. It is somewhat smaller than the Ettrick, but rolls its clear and rapid current through as pretty a channel. Its banks are fringed with copse-wood; the bougls of which dip in the water, as if wooing the stream which lends them support. Yarrow joined the Ettrick on the side by which I walked ; and leaving the latter, I then followed the course of the former stream. 1 he path con- ducted me to a very neat stone bridge, which com- municates with Bowhill, a noble estate, with plea- sure-grounds, belonging to the duke of Buccleugh. I crossed to the other side, and surveyed the grounds. They are laid out with taste, and are planted at in- tervals with noble ibrest trees. — Pursuing my walk a mile or two further, I arrived at a venerable and 25 * 294 PILGRIMAGE TO MELROSE statel^y ruin which occupies a commanding position upon one of the braes of Yarrow. This was New- ark's Tower; the same to which Scott makes the Minstrel arrive, who sung his last Lay to the hos- pitable proprietors of this then proud baronial pile. The tower is square and lofty : in the walls are ma- ny loop-holes, and a few narrow window-spaces, long since un-latticed, which contribute to give a very dreary and cheerless aspect to the whole struc- ture. The walls of the main entrance are greatly dilapidated. The pond'rous gate and massy bar, Which once roird back the tide of war, have long since crumbled into ruin. At present, in place of the ancient portal, is only a wooden wicket, which opens into an area, which a neighbouring peasant has appropriated for a sheep-fold. The scenery in the immediate vicinity is very picturesque. I looked round for the ' lowly bow- er' of the Minstrel, and the ' little garden trimmed with green ;' but though I saw several cots, and as many neatly cultivated enclosures, any one of which might once have been the property of the bard, there was no one which 1 felt absolutely authorized to identify as his. Yarrow, however, as it gushed merrily through the green-wood, seemed to prolong the minstrels melody; and a kindred bard might perhaps have recognised in its gurgling, the blith- some echo of the Lav. AND DRYBURGH AliBIES. 295 It was not till evening had set in, that I thought of retracing my steps to Selkirk. With a feeling of regret, 1 commenced my homeward walk ; and about dusk, reached my lodgings, after a romantic ramble of nine miles. On the following morning I walked to Melrose, a few miles distant from Selkirk. The road lay along Tweaddale, scarcely leaving the bank of the river, and then only diverging for a few yards. The val- ley was exceedingly beautiful, and answered well the anticipations which t had formed of its attrac- tions from the high panegyrics which 1 had often heard lavished upon it. The Tweed even here, is not a large, but it is a very respectable and showy stream. It abounds with substantial comforts too : salmon being plenty in its waters, as well as several other species of the finny tribes. Of the former, numbers were seen sporting near the surface of the river, and occasionally leaping from its limpid wave. The village of Melrose is neat and compact, plea- santly situated on Tweedside, at the feet of the Eil- don hills. The celebrated Abbey adjoins, and over- looks the town. It is moulderina: into ruin. Lar^e portions of the wall, much of the roof, and several of the old towers have fallen in. Grass and small shrubs are growing luxuriantly upon the tops of such parts of the edifice as remain entire. I ascend- ed one of the most perfect of the towers, — an un- dertaking attended with little pleasure, and conside- rable hazard. 296 PILGRIMAGE TO MELROSE Seen from any point of view the tout ensemble of the structure is solemn and impressive. It is impos- sible to approach and witness it without strong and deep emotion. So often however has the Abbey been described by tourists that it needs no further comment, even for the sake of refreshing my own memory. I merely add, therefore, that in explor- ing the several parts of the Abbey, 1 could not for- get the grave of Michael Scott. The guide, in lead- ing me to it, conducted me by the very aisle, along which With snow-white stoles and order due, The holy Fathers two and two In long procession came. Many stories of the exploits of Michael Scott are current in this section of the country. It is believed that he was buried in the Abbey of Melrose, though in what part of it is not so easy to determine with precision. To ascertain the actual spot of his in- terment, recourse has been had to a tradition of long standing. This certifies, that at a certain hour in the day the sun shines directly upon the grave of the wizard. Accordingly, when Walter Scott visit- ed the Abbey for the purpose of deciding upon a tomb which he might assume as Michael's, and re- fer to as such, in his contemplated poem, the guide, (and he was the same who attended me, and who was my informant) reminded him of the popular le- gend, and pointed his attention to one on which the sun then chanced to shine through a mouldering AND DRYBURGH ABBIES. 2W arch. The selection, it appears., was satisfactory, more especially as there was no inscription upon the stone which covered the grave; and thus the latter might belong to any other person as well as Michael Scott, and to Michael Scott as to any other person. It was not a little amusing to mark the self-com- placency with which this piece of information was given me. How far the ingenuity of the guide, in fact, aided the researches of the poet, I undertake not to judge. At any rate, it would be a pity to de- prive him of the satisfaction of rehearsing to a thou- sand visiters to come, as to the thousands who have been shown the Abbey heretofore, his own agency in determining a choice so vastly important ; and of winding up the account with a sly glance and signifi- cant shrug, which, construed into plain EngUsh, is as much as to say, 'Twas /, said the fl}', With my little eye. The grave of Michael, according to the above tx cathedra decision is in the eastern end of the Ab- bey. Near it, is the space where the altar former- ly stood, and where the ' mitred abbott,'' stretched his hand when he blessed the pilgrims who went in procession to Melrose, to appease the troubled sprite of Michael Scott. I should add that at the time of my viewing the wizard's tomb, the sun was shining full upon it : in the same manner, the guide said, as when Walter Scott visited it, on the occa- 298 PILGRIMAGE TO MELROSE sion related. Of course, this circumstance was sup- posed to increase marvellously my gratification ; notwithstanding that the aperture in the Abbey walls was sufficiently wide to admit of a broad glare of light being thrown upon a dozen other graves of equal size with that of Michael. I inquired of the conductor, if the common peo- ple about believe that there are ghosts which still tenant the Abbey ? He replied that they might as well believe this, as the many stories which he knew that they actually do credit respecting Michael Scott. ' What,' said I, ' do they fancy that Michael walks V — ' Aye, aye,' said he, ' all that, and much more ;' ' but,' he then added with a very knowing look, ' but^ we have no ghosts about here excepting such as we make ourselves.' By we^ 1 suppose he meant Himself & Co., who are in the habit of con- ducting strangers over the Abbey ; but the process employed in the manufacture of these spirits, he did not see fit to mention. But whether or not the ghost of Michael still walks, certain it is that no stranger presumes to visit Melrose without leaving an offering at his shrine ; — a silver offering too, — which now-a-days passes in the shape of a vulgar perquisite to the attending guide, who in this respect acts as factor to the weird shade, and takes, very religiously, an account of the avails. This oblation generally answers the pious purpose in view : and it is pleasing to observe how at such a time each cloud is chased from the brow of the worthy representative of Michael, and AND DRYBURGH ABBIES. 299 how, too, his whole countenance brightens as with a sun-beam, when the glittering head of king George, encased in the silver rim of a half-crown, crosses his willing hand. Having taken such refreshments at the little inn in Melrose as befitted a pilgrim to the Scottish Lo- retto, I continued my walk three miles further to Eildon Newton, a small village near the Tweed. Not far from there a ferry is established, by which I crossed the river and found myself within the grounds of the Earl of Buchan. At a short distance from the ferry, his lordship is constructing at great expence a chain bridge, which, when completed, will prove of great utility, it being the only one, with a single exception, for a number of miles. A most charming walk of an half mile through grounds which were decked with the richest cultiva- tion, brought me to the mansion of Dryburgh. Both the earl and countess were at home, and gave me a flattering reception. At the abbey I had the pleasure of meeting also with the Rev. Mr. F , rector of Woolwich near London, and youngest bro- ther of the countess, who, with his lady and child, had come down a little before to pass a month at Dryburgh. — Several of the neighbouring gentry paid morning calls at the Abbey, among whom was a titled Indy. These calls I find have much less of formality and parade, at this distance in the country, than in town. In the latter, the quintessence of comfort in paying a morning visit, consists in driving furiously to the door of a house, sending a powder- ^06 KLGRIMAGE TO MELROSE ed footman to ring the bell violently, beat a tattoo on the knocker, and then throw a card into the hall ; after which, when breathless with haste he has re- mounted his stand, the carriage moves rapidly off, and the visiter, besides the consciousness of having discharged a bounden duty according to the best rules of good breeding, enjoys the exquisite satisfac- tion of having given or received great honour. Before the hour of dming the earl proposed a walk over a part of the grounds. His lordship's lands are not very extensive ; but they are situated in the finest possible manner, being on a peninsula formed by a reach of the Tweed, and almost com- pletely surrounded by it. The earl has covered this point with every thing adapted to the climate, virhich cultivation or the hand of art could annex to the original beauties of nature. There are several pretty hamlets, and a number of detached cottages scattered over the grounds, occupied of course by his lordship's tenantry. Dryburgh house is a spa- cious building, very respectable in appearance, but no ways particularly fine or showy. Its architecture is modern, and with the exception of turrets at the angles of the central and main part of the edifice, there is nothing antique about it, — nor any thmg which distinguishes it from the mansion of any inde- pendent country gentleman. The building is almost completely imbosomed with trees. It stands about an hundred yards distant from the noble remains of a once proud abbey, which at present gives name to the whole of lord Buchan's grounds, as well as to the modern mansion. AND DRYBURGH ABBIES. 3«1 This abbey, or monastery, in the days of its glory was held by an abbot and fifty-two monks. It is of great antiquity. The conventual part remains still in tolerable preservation — such as the cloisters, the dormitory, and refectory. In this respect it differs much from other structures of a similar kind : for when papacy was abolished in Great Britain, and convents where disfranchised, the chapel, and in gene- ral the chapel alone, was kept in repair^ and reserv- ed as a place of worship for the neighbouring inhabi- tants, whilst the other parts of the edifice were suffered to go to decay. Of the chapel of Dry- burgh Abbey, however, only portions remain ; and those are in a very ruinous condition. The earl conducted me over each part of the pile, and pointed my attention to every thing of interest connected with it. Several traditionary legends which he re- lated, illustrative of the characters and lives of some of the former inmates of the monastery, were highly amusing. In the square of the cloisters, his lordship has planted and trained against the walls, peach, cherry, and other fruit trees, which grow very vigorously. They form a good substitute for the vine^ which im- memorially has been held in great canonical repute among the various monastic orders, and the fruit of which, doubtless, often cheered the hearts of the abbot and monkish fraternity of Dryburgh. — In a niche near the entrance into these cloisters, sur- mounted by a Saxon arch, is a bust of the present 26 302 PILGRIMAGE TO MELROSE earl of B. fine sculptured, and taken six years ago, when he was 69 years of age. Adjacent to the abbey ruin, is a cemetery, which originally belonged to the convent, and which, by his lordship's permission, is now used as a place of interment for his tenantry. It is planted with firs, larches, hollies and yews. Some of the latter are of great age and size, and they all contribute to throw over the spot an air of solemn gloom. — There are several walks in the cemetery ; and among these a person may stray at noon-day, when not a sound would occur to interrupt the profound stillness, nor a single sun-beam find admission through the deep screen, formed by the intervening branches of the trees. I was pleased with seeing in the dining room of Dryburgh a highly finished portrait of general Wash- ington, which that great man had sent to lord B. as a mark of courtesy and regard. His lordship's col- lection of paintings, both at the abbey and his town house, is numerous. Many of them are executed by the first masters, and are very fine. The earl's taste for the fine arts is well known in the metropo- lis. He is there accounted the Maecenas of the corps of painters ; and having a finely shaped head, and features very handsome and expressive, there is scarcely an artist of note, who has not sued for the honour of taking his portrait. The best which I have seen, are those executed by Raeburn and Wilson. The earl several months ago gave me a AND DRYBURGH ABBIES. 303 cameo miniature of himself, very neatly finished, which is a striking' likeness. Lord B. has a great taste for letters as well as the fine arts. He has himself entered the lists as an au- thor; and his life of Napier, and a volume or two of Essays which he has puhlished, are very ingeni- ous and entertaining. — His library is extensive and valuable In the collection of MSS. are some pa- pers highly curious and interesting, which 1 had the privilege of inspecting. One of them was an origi- nal poem by Thompson, which had been given to the earl, together with some other writings of that sweet- est of bards, by lord Littleton, who, if I mistake not, was one of his executors. Love was the sub- ject of the poem ; and the author having indulged too far in a strain of loose and immodest thought, the piece had never been permitted to find a place among his other publications. The chirography was no ways elegant ; and the letters in fact were large and rather scrawling. The hand indeed was much like a school-boy's ; and it is probable that the whole performance was executed in very early life. Many lines, and more words, particularly at the commencement of the poem, had been erased to give place to others, which the cooler judgment of the author suggested. In the last twelve or sixteen lines, however, there was scarcely a single blot. Lord Buchan showed me also, a letter which he received from his brother. Lord Erskine, about the year 1780, (if I remember the date correctly,) in answer to one which hi$ lordship had written re- S04 PILGRIMAGE TO MELROSE questing an account, con amore^ of the dispositions and characters of Lord E.'s children. There was a vein ©f very pleasant humour, and sportive description in the sketches which were returned ; but the most re- markable part of the letter was the apology which introduces it, stating the reasons for not having ac- knowledged and replied to the letter of Lord Bo sooner. Lord Erskine wrote, that for the two or three months previously he had been so inundated with business that scarcely an hour had been left to him for repose : ' business,' he added, — ' so great as had never before fallen to a barrister since Wilham Rufus built Westminster Hall.' — He added, that that very year, without office, or the receiving a single farthing beyond the just gains accruing from his professional labours, he had the prospect of clear- ing 10,000/. or 44,400 dollars, an immense sum in- deed, at that time. When he was made Lord Chan- cellor, he was in the regular annual receipt from the profits of his profession, of 14,000/. sterling. After tea, in the drawing room, the countess and Mr. F. seated themselves to a hand of piquet, in which they invited me to join them ; but knowing very little of the game, — in fact having never dipped into Hoyle, — 1 was unwilling to become a pupil on the present occasion ; and accordmgly accepted an invitation from the earl, as the evening was very beautiful, to walk with him to a part of the grounds to which he had not before conducted me. We ex- tended our walk to an emmence about a mile dis- AND DRYBURGH ABBlES. 30a tant from the Abbey, whereon his lordship has erected a colossal statue of the celebrated Scottish hero, Wallace. The hill is very commanding; and is clothed with hangmg woods, excepting a space near the summit, which was left open for the statue. The latter is a gigantic figure, finely proportioned, of the height of twenty one or two feet, and stand- ing on a pedestal which is ten feet, so that it may be seen distinctly for many miles around, and particular- ly well, along the road from St. Bosweli's Green to Melrose. The statue has been wrought out ofabiock of freestone, of a peculiarly excellent kind, of which the earl has a quarry. It is found on working, to admit a polish and finishing resembhng marble. From the eminence on which it stands, large dis- tricts of one or two of the border counties of Eng- land, are seen very clearly. Happening to touch upon the subject of old age, — his lordship having said, that, if I had arrived at the Abbey two days sooner, i should have visited him on his birth day, as he then completed his 75th year ; — the earl was led to enlarge upon the topic, and m a strain of sentiment which I could not but ad- mire. He observed, that beyond a certain age, and to that point he had now attained, a man might be said to endure life, but, by no propriety of language to enjoy it. It is most melancholy, he added, to see a person at the advanced age of 70 or 80, hoarding and fanning the last embers of life. He quoted some appropriate passages, expressive of this 26 * 306 PILGRIMAGE TO MELROSE sentiment, from the De Senectute of Cicero, a work which, next to the volume of inspiration, he thought ought to be the study of every one of his years, who is capable of understanding the original. ' I can conceive, however,' said his lordship ' of a person surrounded by a numerous progeny of children and grand-children, retaining unimpaired a fondness for life, to a very late period, — both through a desire to see them well established in different professions and holding respectable standings in society, and to con- tribute all in his power to promote these ends. But for me, who have no lineal descendants over whose fortunes to watch, no extraneous inducement for the protraction of life remains. The rank to which I was born brought me early upon the busy stage of the world, as early as fifteen ; and from the age of 25, more properly, I began to fag; and fifty years are a long while to fag. Satisfied as 1 am with this world, my views now point to another and a bright- er.' I have given these remarks of the earl, as nearly as I can recall them, with literal accuracy ; and per- haps a passing comment may not be amiss. In early life, his lordship was ambitious of making a figure in the political world ; and he was happy in having a friend and patron at court in the celebrated earl of Chatham. From that nobleman he received several distinguished proofs of confidence and regard, dur- ing his minor age, (then Lord Cardross ;) and when quite a young man, he had a diplomatic appointment, being nominated to the second station in an important embassy to some foreign court. His father dying AND DRYBURGII ABfelES. 5«7 about that time, and the earldom descending to him, he dechned going abroad, and taking leave of public life, retired to his estates in Scotland. The pa- trimonial revenues accompanying the title which he inherited, were comparatively small ; and they were found to be greatly reduced either through the pro- digality or the negligence of his father. The earl, however, nothing daunted, set to work to clear his estates from their incumbrances and embarrass- ments^ and what with care, and thrift, and faithful nursing, he has not only effected this, but rendered them very productive, and now enjoys an ample in- come. It is true that a life spent under these cir- cumstances might seemingly pass for something else than a toilsome and fagging existence ; but indepen- dently of the earFs rural employments and literary pursuits, his station in society has necessarily called him into many of the stirring scenes of active life ; and he has carried his habits of persevering industry into all his avocations, and made them regulate his entire deportment. The poet who drew his pictures of men and man- ners fresh from life, and all whose reflections are marked with peculiar point and signiticancy, has ob- served, ' how various his employments whom the world calls idle :' His meaning obviously is that what may appear to a casual eye, a life of ease, may in fact be one of laborious exertion ; and the pur- suits of a person even in the sequestered and noise- less walks of society, are often found on a nearer in- spection, to be something more than mere diffl- ciles nugce. As respects the earl of B. he retains the 368 PILGRIiMAGE TO MELROSE habits of systematic industry, which he formed in his early years ; and to these, together with the regular course of Hvmg which he has uniformly adhered to, may be ascribed, under favour of Providence, the hale and vigorous health which he is now enjoying, and the almost youthful glow which his countenance still wears. In town, during the winter months, his lordship rises at peep of dawn, and is in the habit of closing as well as beginning the day, betimes. In this respect he differs widely from the countess, who loves to figure in the brilliant evening circles of the metropolis ; a contrast of tastes which I have sever- al times heard his lordship speak of with much plea- santry, comparing himself and ladyB, (making some allowance indeed on the score of gender,j to Castor and Pollux, the one existing solely in the day — the other in the night. The earl of B. is distinguished for some eccentri- cities ; but where is the nobleman who is free from them ? He is charged also with having not a little of the leaven of vanity. That he has a dash of this, and a pretty strong dash too, there is no denying. But whatever an American with his republican notions may think of it,. it would seem that a Scot ought to regard the foible with indulgence, when he remem* hers that the earl represents one of the most ancient and noble houses in North Britain, and that the blood of the illustrious race of Stuarts, and conse- quently, (although partially,) of the royal line of Brunswick, flows in his veins. — It is remarkable that the present generation of the family have added distm^uished lustre to the name. The second brc- AND DRYBURGII ABBIES. 309 therof the earl of B., the Hon. Henry Erskine, after establishing his reputation at the bar as a profound jurist, and eloquent advocate, was advanced to the dignity of lord advocate of Scotland : — and the other brother, the Hon. Thomas (now lord) Erskine, rais- ed himself by the force of his transcendent taients to the lord high chancellorship of the realm. The earl has but one sister. She was married to the earl of Glencairn; and that nobleman having died without issue, and being the last of the name, the title will become extinct on the death ot the countess. The health of the Hon. H. Erskine is declining very fast. The earl mentioned that he had made him a recent visit ; and it was one of the last, he feared, which he should ever make this side of the grave. The eldest son of Mr. E. is pre- sumptive heir to the estates and coronet of Bu- chan.* In returning with the earl from our walk to the statue of Wallace, his lordship conducted me to the abbey by a path which lay through the finest of his grounds. There was a peculiar softness and beau- ty in the evening. The western sky was hung with clouds of golden splendour; and the declin- ing sun burnished their borders with colours of richest hue. The children of his lordship's tenants were * The Hon. Henry Erskine died a short time after the date of the above ; — the Right Hon. the Countess of Bachan about a year subsequently. Her ladyship was a number of ytais youn- ger than the earl. In early life she had been celebrated for her lieauty. 310 PILGRIMAGE TO MELROSE sporting their gambols upon the little lawns around their several hamlets ; and every thing wore the aspect of content and peace and cheerfulness. A prominent topic of conversation in the even- ing was America, its civil polity and resources. The earl has turned his attention very much to these subjects, and has watched with interest the progress of affairs in the United States, ever since the revolution. One of the earl's ancestors, lord Fairfax, was a proprietor in the South Carolina grant or patent ; and independently of this family connection, if i may so speak, with the United States, his lordship has ever been a firm and tem- perate advocate of civil freedom, and has accord- ingly viewed with admiration the simple but effi- cient operations of the federal republican consti- tution of the States. The earl opened a corres- pondence With Washington, Franklin, and Jeffer- son, — names venerated by every American citizen, and of which imperial Rome might have been proud. I have seen the originals of many, if not all, the letters in reply. Those of Washington are highly interesting. Thej'^ are all deposited with Dr. Ro- bert Anderson of Edinburgh, another ardent friend of the United States, and a gentleman well known to the public for his various literary productions, especially his elegant biography of the British poets. Something was said respecting the reported ces- sion of the island of Lampedoza by the Neapoli- tans to the Americans — a rumour which has of AND DRYBURGH ABBIES. 311 late excited considerable comment and speculation in Edinburgh, and which has been appealed to by some, in proof of an ambitious pohcy on the part of the United States, and a spirit of aggrandize- ment, ill becoming a repubUc of such modest pre- tensions. Admitting the report to be true, the earl of B. strongly reprobated the measure. I suggested the obvious advantage that would ac- crue to the States from the possession of an island or some small territory in the Mediterranean, which might serve lor a permanent naval station, and a place of refitment and supplies to our squad- ron appointed to cruise in that sea, for the pur- pose of overawing the Barbary Regencies. The earl, however, was unwiUing to acknowledge that there could be much utility, whatever of seeming convenience there might be, in having such a de- pot ; at least, he thought that the probable evils more than counterbalanced the expected benefits. — ♦ No, no ;' said he, pursuing the subject with much earnestness of manner, ' your nation must think of no Lampedozas — must indulge no wish of attain- ing a single rood of European soil. You have ter- ritory enough now, and should live independently of the rest of the world. You have only to mul- tiply facilities of intercourse between one portion and another of your common country, by opening canals, extending your highw.ays, and rendermgyour rivers more navigable ; and then may the western states furnish ready supplies for those of the At- lantic, the north may continue to trade with the south; and drawing your subsistence from your- 312 PILGRIMAGE TO MELROSE, &c. selves, you will fast rise to opulence and power, and become a second China.' It was late before we separated for the night. — From the windows of my chamber I caught a par- tial but strikmg view, through the moonlight, of the mouldering walls and dismantled towers of the abbey ruin. Its appearance on the following morning, in connection with numerous other ob- jects of beauty and interest around, was very grand. On the succeeding day, after breakfast, I left Dryburgh with regret that my engagements pre- cluded my protracting my stay at it longer, and sensibly touched by the many courtesies of the earl and countess of Buchan. The former, from the time of my introduction to him, has honoured me with distinguished attentions, nor is it among the least of my regrets on leaving Scotland, that I shall never agam have an opportunity of enjoying a personal intercourse wuth this nobleman. 1 was ferried across the river in a boat belong- ing to the abbey ; and then proceeded on foot to St. Boswell's green, a village a mile or two dis- tant, through which the coach for Edinburgh was to pass. Arriving there some time before it was expected, I pursued my walk to Melrose, which I reached a few minutes only in advance of the ve- hicle. Nothing material occurred during the re- mainder of my route to Edinburgh. The day was jBae, and the ride was pleasant. END. Aiin ^'L? .<^