{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_39892/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_39892","id":"gutenberg_39892","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/39892","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Art","Category: History - British","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Travel Writing","Lakes -- Scotland","Scotland -- Pictorial works"],"text":"Produced by sp1nd, Matthew Wheaton and the Online\nDistributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This\nfile was produced from images generously made available\nby The Internet Archive)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n    SCOTTISH LOCH SCENERY.\n\n\n    LONDON:\n    JOHN WALKER AND CO.\n\n\n    SCOTTISH LOCH SCENERY.\n\n    ILLUSTRATED IN\n\n    A SERIES OF COLOURED PLATES\n\n    FROM DRAWINGS BY\n\n    A. F. LYDON.\n\n    WITH DESCRIPTIVE NOTES BY THOMAS A. CROAL.\n\n    LONDON:\n    JOHN WALKER AND CO.\n    1882.\n\n\n\n\n    CONTENTS.\n\n\n    LOCHMABEN\n    LOCH DOON\n    THE GREY MARE'S TAIL\n    ST. MARY'S LOCH\n    DUDDINGSTON LOCH\n    LINLITHGOW LOCH\n    CORRA LINN\n    STONEBYRES FALL\n    LOCH LEVEN\n    LOCH FAD\n    LOCH LOMOND\n    FALLS OF INVERSNAID\n    LOCH KATRINE\n    LOCH LUBNAIG\n    LOCH EARN\n    LOCH TAY\n    LOCH AWE\n    LOCH ETIVE\n    THE FALLS OF FOYERS\n    LOCH NESS\n    LOCH CORUISK\n    LOCH MAREE\n    FALLS OF THE GARRAVALT\n    THE DHU LOCH--LOCH-NA-GAR\n    THE CAULDRON LINN\n\n\n\n\nSCOTTISH LOCH SCENERY.\n\n\n\n\nLOCHMABEN.\n\n\nThe visitor to Scotland, entering from the south, has not far to\ntravel before he reaches one of the loveliest lowland scenes the\ncountry possesses. The very ancient burgh of Lochmaben lies on a\nbranch line a little distance from Lockerbie junction, and, apart from\nits picturesque surroundings, the old place presents attractions of\nits own. It dates from very early times, and its burghers are known,\neven to this day, as 'the king's kindly tenants.' Many of the\nretainers of Robert the Bruce, to whom and whose ancestors the castle\nbelonged, having obtained rights of property in one or other of the\n'four towns of Lochmaben,' under a tenancy direct from the Crown,\nhence forming virtually a proprietary interest.\n\nIn Burns's _Five Carlines_, the burgh is called 'Marjory o' the mony\nlochs,' from the numerous sheets of water around, of which our view\nshows the largest and finest. This is known as the Castle Loch, and\ncovers about two hundred acres. Although not surrounded by the high\nmountains and bolder scenery found further north in Scotland, this\nloch presents a scene of great beauty, having fine verdant hills\nsurrounding it, and being itself clothed on every shore with beautiful\nwoodland scenery.\n\nThe ruined castle shown in the view occupies a prominent position upon\na heart-shaped peninsula. The visitor will find little but bare and\nmassive walls to tell him of the extent of this fortress, once\ncovering sixteen acres in extent, and forming the chief stronghold in\nthe south-west of Scotland. For many years after the castle fell into\nruin it is said the king's tenants used it as a quarry for building\nstones, and Chambers, in his _Picture of Scotland_, speaks of one\nhonest burgher who then 'warmed his toes beside a pair of fine jambs\nprocured in Bruce's castle.' From the appearance of the ground, it is\nevident the neck of the peninsula could be put under water for\ndefensive purposes, having both an outer and an inner defence of this\nkind, besides one or more intermediate fosses that speak of the same\nuse. The present is not believed to be the original castle built by\nthe Lords of Annandale, but a subsequent erection of the thirteenth\ncentury. The days of warlike lords and border forays are over for the\nCastle of Lochmaben, and now it is to be regarded merely as a splendid\naddition to the picturesque attractions of this very charming\ndistrict. Boats may be hired for a row or sail over the placid bosom\nof the loch, and on a fine autumn evening no more delightful pleasure\ncould be got.\n\nBesides its other attractions, Lochmaben presents a peculiar fact in\nnatural history, for in its waters are found--in addition to other\nfish--the vendace, a species of fish found in no other loch. It is\npopularly but erroneously called a fresh-water herring, for it belongs\nto the family of _coregonus_, one of the salmonid\u00e6. This rare fish\ntakes no lure, and thus can only be netted, and the fishing for it in\nthe Castle Loch is limited to one day in the year, in July, when the\nvendace club meet, fish, and dine. The Mill Loch, another and lesser\nof those surrounding the burgh, also contains vendace, which are\nfished for one day in August. The Castle Loch measures a mile long by\nthree quarters broad, the Mill Loch is half a mile by quarter of a\nmile, and the other waters are the Kirk-Loch, Hightae Loch, &c.\n\n\n\n\nLOCH DOON.\n\n\nAlthough intimately associated with those scenes to which Burns so\nplaintively puts the question\n\n    'Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Doon\n    How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair?'\n\nand although it 'pours a' its floods' under that ancient brig where\nTam O' Shanter had such a narrow escape, Loch Doon is far from the\nimmediate land of Burns, lying remote in a wild and solitary mountain\nregion. The loch is, however, within four miles of Dalmellington\nstation, and as there is excellent fishing, coaches frequently carry\nthe disciples of Walton, as well as searchers after the picturesque,\nto this quiet, outlying place. Loch Doon is eight miles in length, and\nirregular in form, the lower limb of the Loch, from which the river\nDoon issues, lying to the right as shown in our view. The hills on the\nsouth are in the Stewartry of Kirkcudbright, and the loch, forming,\nover its whole length, the boundary between that county and Ayrshire,\nis surrounded with pastoral mountains.\n\nAt the head of the loch, at its southern end, lies an island on which\nthe remains of an ancient castle are seen. This building, the main\nfeature of which is an octagonal peel or tower formed of large square\nstones, is only vaguely traceable in history, and at one time belonged\nto Edward Bruce, brother of Robert the Bruce. Rather more than half a\ncentury ago, several canoes were found in the loch near this island,\neach boat formed from the stem of a single oak tree, the trunk being\nhollowed out, and the ends finished off in form like a fishing-coble.\nCommon repute gives to such boats an antiquity of eight or nine\ncenturies, but no absolute date can be assigned to them. They belong\nto what has been called by an eminent Scottish arch\u00e6ologist,\nnon-historic man. Whether they are also pre-historic may be matter of\ndispute.\n\nThe river Doon, for a portion of its course immediately after leaving\nthe loch, presents some very remarkable features. The gully through\nwhich it flows gives the appearance of high cliffs rent asunder by\nsome fierce cataclysm to give passage to its waters. The walk along\nthis ravine is singularly striking, the rocks seeming at every turn to\nclose in so as to bar further progress, and when the river is full\nafter a wet season the spectacle is not without elements of terror.\nAll around, the region abounds with lochs, Loch Doon being the\nlargest. Excepting as regards the branch line of railway leading to\nDalmellington, the entire district lies apart and silent, a region of\nhills, occasionally, as in Merrick (2704 feet) and Cairnsmore of\nCarsphairn (2612 feet), rising to the dignity of mountains, and wholly\ngiven up to pastoral uses, except where the iron works around\nDalmellington suggest that this upward district touches the border of\nthat mineral wealth which exists so abundantly a little further\nnorth.\n\n\n\n\nTHE GREY MARE'S TAIL.\n\n\nWhile this is not the highest waterfall in Scotland--for the\ninaccessible Falls of Glomak far exceed all others--the Grey Mare's\nTail ranks as one of the most striking. We find amongst the hills at\nthe north-west corner of Annandale, the waters of 'dark Loch Skene,'\nwhich find no outlet save over this breakneck descent. Far down in the\nvale below lies the watering-place of Moffat, famous for its\nsulphureous springs, clear, cool, and medicinal. Coaches leave this\ntown daily during the season to reach the other side of the hills, and\nten miles distant from Moffat this splendid natural phenomenon is\nseen. The coach, in the slow ascent to the higher level, gives the\nvisitor ample time to find, on foot, the best vantage points from\nwhich to see the fall.\n\nWhen the stream is small, the 'tail' falls off to thin threads of\nspray, dashed into films of prismatic beauty as they rush from rock to\nrock. But in spate, the effect comes out in all its grandeur,\n\n    'White as the snowy charger's tail,'\n\nand the appropriateness of the name bestowed on the waterfall\nevidences itself. The entire fall is above two hundred feet at one\nleap, over a dark rugged precipice, closed in on every side with sharp\nrocks, and suggesting to the mind ideas of much terror and sublimity.\nAttempts have been made to scale the face of the fall, occasionally\nwith fatal results, and the imagination can create, even if the eyes\ncannot see, the fluttering of morsels of clothing that are pointed out\nby the guide as horrible memorials of such foolhardy attempts. In this\nwild region were enacted some of the terrible scenes of the\nCovenanters' persecution. Away in those grim solitudes, 'hunted like a\npartridge upon the mountains,' the dauntless upholder of the right of\nprivate judgment would betake himself, associating with others of like\ndetermination. On the 'Watch Hill' opposite Birkhill, the persecuted\npeople set sentinels to signal the approach of Claverhouse or his men,\nwhile away in a cave, near a wild waterfall called Dobb's Linn, they\nheld their proscribed services, and here on one occasion the 'bloody\nClavers' shot four men, whose graves were marked in Ettrick kirkyard\nnot many years ago. The wild desolation of this scene befits the dark\nand terrible incidents of which, at this period, it was the scene. The\nfarmhouse of Bodsbeck lies on the road between Moffat and the\nwaterfall, and has been rendered famous in literature through James\nHogg, the 'Ettrick Shepherd's' story of the _Brownie of Bodsbeck_, a\ntale dealing with incidents of the persecution of the Covenanters.\n\nFrom Moffat can be reached in a different direction some notable hills\nand ravines, amongst which may be named Hartfell, and Queensberry\nHill, from the summit of both of which magnificent panoramas of\nscenery are opened to view. A remarkable scene is that of the Earl of\nAnnandale's Beef Tub, otherwise called 'The Devil's Beef Tub,' a vast\nsemicircle of precipitous rock, down in the bosom of which many\nbeeves, perhaps driven from other mens' lands, could be hidden away.\n\n\n\n\nST. MARY'S LOCH.\n\n\nThere is no native of Scotland who does not wax poetical when St.\nMary's Loch is named. Round it and the district of which it is the\ncrown and glory there centres more of legend, ballad, poem and\nsentiment than is to be found anywhere else, and in good sooth it is\nonly necessary to visit the place to realize the halo of love and\nadmiration which has been thrown around it. Then it is also the centre\nof a famous angling district, and in 'Tibbie Shiel's' the\n'contemplative man,' when his day of enjoyment is done, will find a\ntidy bed, and eke some jovial companion, who will make the evening\nhilarious as the day has been exhilarating. If the tourist has visited\nthe _Grey Mare's Tail_, described in the preceding chapter, the same\ncoach that has brought him from Moffat will bring him on to this scene\nof singular pastoral beauty.\n\nSt. Mary's Loch presents sufficient space to make up a fine landscape,\nand is not too large to be taken in at one glance. In its still beauty\nit has its chief charm:--\n\n    'You see that all is loneliness,\n    And silence aids--though the steep hills\n    Send to the lake a thousand rills,\n    In summer tide, so soft they weep,\n    The sound but lulls the ear to sleep.\n    Your horse's hoof-tread sounds too rude,\n    So stilly is the solitude.'\n\nThe square keep seen in the foreground is Dryhope Tower, the home of\n'Mary Scott, the Flower of Yarrow.' Here we at once plunge into the\nold ballad and foray, for she married Wat of Harden, a famed Border\nfreebooter, and to name him is to let loose a flood of reminiscences,\nlegends, and family histories, on which the space at command here will\nnot permit us to enter.\n\nThe old kirk and kirkyard of St. Mary's were not less remarkable than\nthe loch:--\n\n    'Lord William was buried in St. Marie's Kirk,\n      Lady Margaret in Marie's Quire,\n    Out o' the lady's grave there grew a red rose\n      And out o' the knight's a brier.'\n\nThus ends the tale of the _Douglas Tragedy_. Less famous people are\nburied there, as another voice tells us,\n\n    'For though, in feudal strife a foe\n    Hath laid our lady's chapel low,\n    Yet still beneath the hallowed soil\n    The peasant rests him from his toil,\n    And, dying, bids his bones be laid\n    Where erst his simple fathers prayed.'\n\nThe river Yarrow flows through St. Mary's Loch, having passed through\nthe small Loch o' the Lowes before reaching the larger water, 'Tibbie\nShiel's' lying between the two lochs. Yarrow is well known to every\nreader of Wordsworth, and we must pass rapidly over what might be\nsuggested by that single word, so soft in sound, so suggestive of the\nold-world lore of this magical district. Of every nook and dell, hill\nand valley, stream and loch, there are stories and songs without end,\neverywhere\n\n            'You hear sweet melodies\n    Attuned to some traditionary tale.'\n\nHeroes and bold outlaws, fair women and sorrowing widows, strifes and\nplunderings, genealogies and traditions--the Vale of Yarrow and its\nsurrounding hills and streams abound in these. All hushed are they\nnow, and the once warlike burgh of Selkirk is a thriving manufacturing\ntown, but while the 'Flowers o' the Forest' are, in one sense 'a' wede\naway,' the natural attractiveness of the district remains, with all\nthe stories of byegone times to add to its interest for romantic or\npoetic minds.\n\n\n\n\nDUDDINGSTON LOCH.\n\n\nThe smallest of all the notable lochs in Scotland, its circumference\nbeing under a mile and a half, Duddingston is nevertheless famous as\nthe resort of curlers and skaters, and for very many years it has been\na favourite playground of the citizens of Edinburgh, whenever John\nFrost holds reign, and the ice is pronounced safe by the police. The\nwater is deep, and the loch is fed by several springs far down in its\ndepths, so that it is not a mere touch of frost that will produce\npracticable ice at that part of the loch just under the rocky knoll\noverhanging the middle. But when the frost has lasted for two or three\ndays, and the word is passed round in the city that 'Duddingston is\nbearing,' then as if by common consent the city is stirred to wend its\nway to the loch. Everyone is there, from the arab who has perhaps at\nno other time a shoe on his feet, and whose sport can only consist of\n'keeping the pot boiling' down the long slides that speedily get\nformed, to grave lawyers, councillors and magistrates, while crowds of\nthe fair sex also don their skates, and anon the surface of the loch\ngets obscured by the multitudes of people disporting on the ice. There\nhave been times when Duddingston, like the Thames, has been so\nstrongly frozen that an ox has been roasted upon it, and 'Frost Fair'\nis still a tradition amongst old people. But a thickness of five or\nsix inches of ice suffices to make the entire surface safe and solid,\nand when by the continuance of frost the ice reaches to nigh two feet\nthick--no uncommon event--then the frosty carnival is at its best.\n\nThe village of Duddingston reposes under the wing of Arthur's\nSeat--the hill shewn in our view--and lies to the right. In the\nvillage is the house in which Prince Charles Edward lodged before the\nbattle of Prestonpans. In former times, Duddingston was famous for\n'sheep's head' dinners, and its fruit gardens were also a favourite\nresort in summer. The parish church, seen amidst the bare trees, is of\narchitectural interest because of several portions of Norman work\nstill extant, and also from the fact that at the gate of the\nchurchyard are to be seen the 'jougs', an iron collar used as a\npillory, and also a curious relic, a 'loupin' on stane,' placed\nconsiderately there so that persons attending church on horseback\nshould reach their saddle with the least trouble. In the comfortable\nmanse, which lies away to the right, there lived for a time the Rev.\nJohn Thomson, one of Scotland's greatest landscape painters, who was\nminister of the parish, and died there in 1840. The roadway running\nbetween the rocky knoll and the main hill is called the 'Windy Gowl,'\nand in certain directions of the wind is almost impassable. The\nprecipitous rocks standing to the left of the hill are known as\n'Samson's Ribs,' and consist of basaltic columns of the same formation\nas Fingal's Cave and the Giant's Causeway. Viewed as we see it from\nthe east end of Duddingston Loch, Arthur's Seat loses the fine leonine\nform it presents in every other direction. It is a noble hill, and\nalthough little more than eight hundred feet high, its position as a\nsolitary eminence gives it much grandeur of appearance, and the view\nfrom its summit is nowhere surpassed. On a clear day, the eye may\nwander from the Cheviot Hills on the Border, to the Grampians in the\nnorth-west, and while the city of Edinburgh lies spread out below, the\nvaried landscape of the Lothians and the sparkling waters of the Firth\nof Forth come in to make up a panorama of varied beauty, amply\nrepaying the slight toil of the ascent.\n\n\n\n\nLINLITHGOW LOCH.\n\n\nWe reach here a quiet loch, of no great extent, but presenting a\nbeauty of its own, and famous from its association with the ancient\npalace that crowns the peninsula in its centre. The tale of Flodden\nField is closely associated with this palace, for in the small turret\nat the right hand corner furthest in our view there sat Queen Margaret\nin her bower, watching the turn of the road by which the king ought to\nbe seen on his return, and weeping in secret misgiving as to the\nresult of an enterprise which had been preceded by such a singular\nwarning. The scene described by Lindsay of Pitscottie, and better\nknown through 'Sir David Lindsay's Tale' in _Marmion_, took place in\nthe old parish church, closely adjoining the palace, the square tower\nof which is seen over the trees. The king was in the practise, on each\nanniversary of his father's death, to proceed to St. Katherine's\naisle,--still shown--and there to manifest his contrition for the\nshare he had had in that sad act. When\n\n    'In Katherine's aisle the monarch knelt\n    With sackcloth shirt and iron belt\n      And eyes with sorrow streaming'\n\nthere stepped out from the crowd a mysterious stranger, 'in azure gown\nwith cincture white,' who warned the king not to go to the intended\nwar, more especially warning him, if he went, to guard himself against\n\n                  'Woman fair\n    Her witching wiles and wanton snare.'\n\nEvery one knows that as regards both branches of the warning, the\nking proved regardless, and much of the disastrous result of Flodden\narose from the king's fatal dalliance with a renowned Border lady.\n\nOf the loch itself there is not much to say, after it has been told\nthat it is dominated on the north by the gentle and verdant declivity\nof _Glower-o'er-em_ or Bonnytoun Hill, on the summit of which is an\nelegant open gothic cross to the memory of Adrian Hope, a soldier of\nnote who fell in the Indian mutiny. An exceedingly pleasant hour or\ntwo may be spent boating on the loch. On the level sward to the left\nof our view, the Linlithgow youth may be seen practising the game of\ncricket, for which use of the palace precincts leave is given. The\npalace grounds are open to the public, the building being in\ngovernment hands, and, it is believed, swallowing up the whole rent of\nthe small farm adjoining in the plasterers account for maintenance of\nthe extensive ruins.\n\nWithin those walls the beautiful Mary Queen of Scots was born in 1542,\nand the room is shown, roofless and bare, as are other apartments of\nmore or less interest. The newest part of the structure is on the\nnorth side, which is also the most ruinous, for when Hawley's\ndragoons, in 1746, set fire to the palace, the wooden floors here\nproved of course more easily destroyed than the vaulted and tiled\nfloors in the older parts.\n\nThe porch, it may be mentioned, is copied at Abbotsford, and the fine\nfountain which stands in ruins in the courtyard has been reproduced in\nfac-simile at Holyrood Palace in Edinburgh. Leading to the palace from\nthe town, the church door being also within it, is a fine gateway,\nwith sculptured panels shewing the four knightly 'Orders' held by\nJames V., namely, the Thistle, the Garter, the Golden Fleece, and St.\nMichael. The town of Linlithgow is a quiet, decayed county town,\nfamous in history for the assassination of Regent Murray by Hamilton\nof Bothwellhaugh, in the High Street, and once distinguished by its\nsingularly copious water supply from wells or springs, some of which\nstill run on the streets, though most are now led into pipes for a\ngeneral supply.\n\n\n\n\nCORRA LINN.\n\n\nThe old rhyme has it that three of the finest rivers in Scotland set\nout to run a race, with varying fortunes:--\n\n    'The Tweed, the Annan and the Clyde,\n    A' took their rise out o' ae hill side,\n    Tweed ran, Annan wan,\n    Clyde fell and brak its neck o'er Corra Linn.'\n\nAs an actual fact those three rivers find their head waters within a\nvery narrow space. Annan, with the shortest course, falls into the\nSolway Firth; Tweed, getting many famous waters to strengthen its\ncurrent, the Gala, the Yarrow, the Ettrick and the Teviot, rolls its\nnoble course to the Border city of Berwick, and runs into the German\nOcean. The Clyde, after surviving its leap over Corra Linn and other\nfalls, becomes the great highway for ships at Glasgow, and has the\nmost useful, as well as the most romantic career of the three.\n\nBefore it breaks its neck o'er Corra Linn, the Clyde has already met\nwith an accident at Bonnington Linn, and rushes over rocks and gullies\nof the most hazardous kind, so that it reaches the greater fall in a\ncondition of turmoil and agitation far removed from the gentle\ncharacter of its earlier course. Above Bonnington,\n\n    'Smooth to the shelving brink, a copious flood\n    Rolls fair and placid,'\n\nbut when it approaches Corra Linn, the water is alive and tumultuous,\nand plunges over really as if it would break its neck in its mad\ncareer.\n\nTo reach this fall, the visitor leaves the burgh of Lanark at its\nlower end, proceeds to Kirkfieldbank, and there obtains a card of\nadmission to the grounds of Corehouse. The river is crossed at\nKirkfieldbank, but long ere reaching this the water has quieted down,\nand flows gently along. The roar of Corra Linn may however be heard,\nespecially if the Clyde be in flood. The walk after entering the\ngrounds is not long, when, following the course indicated by cards\n(though the sound of the water indicates the way pretty well,) we\nreach the ruins of Corra Castle, just overhanging the fall. A little\nroadway,--quite safe, for it is on the solid rock--leads down to a\nprojecting cliff from which, seated on the benches placed there for\nthe purpose, the splendid sight can be viewed at leisure.\n\n    'Dashed in a cloud of foam, it sends aloft\n    A living mist and forms a ceaseless shower.'\n\nIn the sun, tiny rainbows form, as different points of view are taken.\nThe deafening roar of this grand cataract rises and falls in a\nsingular way, as if every slight inequality in the volume of the river\ncould be detected. The note is low and grand, so that the sound of the\nhuman voice, shrilly set above its deep diapason, is easily heard, and\nconversation can be quietly carried on. As in all great waterfalls,\nthe impression is deepened and strengthened by familiarity. For one\nminute the feeling may arise 'is that all'--the next, the grandeur of\nthe scene has won its way to the mind and taken captive the\nimagination. Sit for an hour and the feeling will grow, while to\nrevisit it day after day for a week will intensify wonder and\nadmiration at the marvellous scene. Does it plunge and roar thus, year\nin, year out, day and night, continuously? Is there no pause, no rest,\nfor the tost and troubled water--no quietness for those reverberating\nrocks that stand around in awe of the ceaseless and giant power that\nhas so eaten its way into their hearts?\n\nEveryone who visits Corra Linn walks through the ground to Bonnington\nLinn, which from the Corehouse side is seen in face, the water\nplunging over in two streams divided by an island. If these falls are\napproached on the Bonnington side, the visitor sees Corra Linn in\nface, can descend (by a steep descent) to the bed right under the\nfall, visits the Wallace Cave where the river roars through a gulley\nonly a few feet wide, and may cross by an iron bridge to the island in\nthe middle of Bonnington Linn.\n\n\n\n\nSTONEBYRES FALL.\n\n\nIn this cataract, the Clyde leaps a greater distance than in either of\nthe falls above, and by many it is considered the finer of the two\ngreat waterfalls. It lies about three miles below Lanark, and is\nreached from the public road. It is difficult of access, for the\nvisitor must either content himself with a distant view, or take his\nheart in his hand and descend a precipitous and dangerous path, where\nat times to hang on by the eyelids may seem the only resource. In\nspeaking of Corra Linn, nothing has been said of the extreme beauty of\nthe scene through which the river flows. From Hamilton to some\ndistance above Lanark, the Clyde valley is a famous fruit district,\nitself a testimony to the richness and mildness of the locality. It\nwould be vain to dwell on the sylvan splendours of the reach of the\nriver from Bonnington to below Corra Linn. High banks overhang the\nwhole way, sometimes running to bold cliffs, crowned with woody\nknolls, with shining snatches of verdure in every crevice; at other\npoints wooded to the water's edge. Standing on the bridge at\nKirkfieldbank the river is seen pleasantly flowing on towards its\nthird leap, the greatest of the series. Before passing by the road to\nthis scene a detour should be made, on the opposite bank, to the\nCartland Crags, where a lofty bridge crosses the river Mouse, and\namongst whose lofty cliffs the hero William Wallace found refuge after\nhis famous exploit in slaying Haselrig the English Sheriff.\n\nApproaching Stonebyres, the war of troubled waters is again heard. The\nstream is not far off the road, and only a short walk is necessary\nbefore the scene bursts upon the view. Of course glimpses of the\nwaterfall can be obtained from many points, but the choice aspect is\nto reach the bed of the stream below, and gaze upwards on the mighty\nrush of waters. To one who is bold and sure-footed there is no great\ndifficulty in approaching pretty near the fall, unless the river\nshould be in spate, when of course the difficulty is increased, and\nmay indeed become too dangerous to be possible. Supposing the fall\napproached within several score of yards, what a splendid scene, and\nhow thrilling is that on which we gaze!\n\n    'O what an amphitheatre surrounds\n    The abyss, in which the downward mass is plunged,\n    Stunning the ear.'\n\nThe entire descent is about ninety feet, in several distinct leaps.\nThis broken character of the two great falls gives them a great deal\nof their distinctive beauty. Doubtless, if the flood had plunged in\none sheer leap, the turmoil below would have been greater, but the\npicturesque aspects of the scene would have been lessened. The jutting\nrocks and ragged edges by which the fall is broken, give to the face\nof the waterfall an ever varying feature, and with the undulating flow\nand gamut of sound here, as at Corra Linn, it presents at each moment\nsome new point for admiration. Then the triple and repeated leaps\nchurn the water into the snowiest foam and spray, so that the falls\nhave great brightness and lightness in spite of the quantity of water\nplunging over. The combination of tones of colour is indeed notable,\nand when to the greens and browns of rock and tree, and the white foam\nof the fall, there is added a brilliant sunshine and cerulean sky\nflecked with light clouds, anyone standing here may well exclaim that\n\n    'Earth hath not anything to show more fair.'\n\n\n\n\nLOCH LEVEN.\n\n\nThis loch has at the present day a two-fold attraction--historical and\npiscatorial. Like most other places of interest in Scotland, the story\nof Loch Leven and its castle clings round the chequered career of Mary\nQueen of Scots. Here, for eleven months, the beautiful Stuart Queen\nlay a prisoner, and eventually her escape was arranged with all the\nromantic devotion and quiet daring with which she was ever able to\ninspire all who fell under the spell of her charms or the pity of her\nfate. Here, as Burns has taught us to believe, she uttered that sad\n'Lament on the Approach of Spring' which forms one of the most\ntouching bits of the national poet's writings,\n\n    'Now Nature hangs her mantle green\n      On every blooming tree,\n    And spreads her sheets of daisies white\n      Out o'er the grassy lea.\n\n           *       *       *       *       *\n\n    Now blooms the lily by the bank,\n      The primrose down the brae;\n    The hawthorn's budding in the glen,\n      And milk-white is the slae:\n    The meanest hind in fair Scotland\n      May rove their sweets amang,\n    But I, the Queen of a' Scotland,\n      Maun lie in prison strang.'\n\nThe waters encompassing the castle form a loch of an irregular square\nform, with a maximum length of four miles, and over two miles wide.\nThe island on which the castle stands is not the largest, there being,\nat the eastern end, a large island named after St. Serf, and still\nshowing the remains of a priory, originally Culdee, and of which\nWyntoun, author of the _Orygynale Cronykil_, was once the head. The\ncastle, a massive square keep, with a quadrangle of fortified\nbuildings around it, is of great antiquity, dating, it is alleged,\nfrom Pictish times. The walls of the keep are in good preservation,\nand the lower floors, being vaulted, still remain. The surrounding\nwall, with circular towers, can be walked upon, but the main buildings\nin the area are only indicated by lines of foundation walls. From the\nside nearest in our view a sunken causeway formerly connected the\ncastle with the promontory on which Kinross House stands, and it can\nstill be traced at the bottom of the loch.\n\nThe surroundings of the loch include the Western Lomond, and the\nBishop Hill on the north-west, and Benarty on the south. Regarding the\nlast named hill, a retired politician is said to have written the\nfollowing couplet, in retirement here,\n\n    'Oh blest is the man wha belangs to nae party\n    But sits at his door and glowers at Benarty.'\n\nThe district traversed in reaching the loch impresses the visitor as\nbeing fruitful and prosperous, and there are abundant evidences around\nof much mineral wealth. It is, however, for angling purposes that Loch\nLeven attracts the greater number of its visitors. The Loch Leven\ntrout are active and firm-fleshed, and are in much esteem both for the\nsport they yield and for the table. At the west end of the loch, close\nby the town of Kinross, boats are let for angling, and besides many\nprivate parties, a large number of clubs hold stated competitions on\nLoch Leven, and the 'baskets' made, and the prospects of sport, are\nthe subject of daily reports in the Edinburgh and Glasgow newspapers.\nBeds and boats are telegraphed for in advance, regarding which a good\nstory is told of an Edinburgh journalist, once famous with rod and\nline, who first sent a wire to the unsophisticated Kinrossians. When\nhe arrived he saw that he was unexpected, and asked 'did you not get\nmy message?' The reply was, 'Ou ay, we got a letter, but as it _wasna\nin your ain handwriting_, we paid nae attention to it!'\n\n\n\n\nLOCH FAD.\n\n\nThis is one of the lochs without a history, although doubtless men\nhave lived and died, married and given in marriage, laboured, plotted,\nand perhaps thieved and robbed upon its borders. It owes its presence\nin our collection because of its position in an island, and that one\nof the most tempting spots in the more lowland parts of Scotland. The\nisland of Bute, which unites with Arran and the Greater and Lesser\nCumbraes to make up a county to which Bute gives its name, lies on the\nwest of the Frith of Clyde, and is separated from the mainland on the\ninner side by a narrow, tortuous, and picturesque channel called the\nKyles of Bute. Landing at Rothesay we find a busy, cleanly, charming\nwatering place, with suburbs of Craigmore and Port Bannatyne filling\nup the lovely shores of Rothesay Bay, and giving from every window\nenchanting peeps of water and hill, carrying the view far into the\nmountainous county of Argyle. Writing of this lovely, verdant island,\nDavid Macbeth Moir (the _Delta_ of Blackwood,) says\n\n                  'each moment brought\n    A new creation to the eye of thought.'\n\nSo much for poetry. We may tell of Bute a more prosaic story, when a\ntown-lady, going, as the Glasgow people say, 'doon the watter,' asked\na lodging-house keeper in Rothesay about thunder, and received the\nvery satisfactory rejoinder, _more Scottice_, in question form, 'Wha\never heard o' thunder in an island?'\n\nLeaving Rothesay by the road near its centre, and passing the parish\nkirk, Loch Fad is found about two miles out. On the south side,\nforming the foreground and left of our view, the shores are low and\ngreen, but on the other side it swells out into bolder outlines, and\nmay fitly claim to be a Highland loch. A curious mound crosses the\nwater, leading to its northern side. On this side of the pretty island\nloch, Edmund Kean, in 1827, built himself a residence. From his\nwindows, and more especially from a summer-house placed on the height\nabove, there is a grand view, embracing not only the near waters of\nLoch Fad, but glimpses of Rothesay Bay, and on the outer line the bold\nfeatures of Argyleshire. Over the doorway of this summer-house, the\ngreat tragedian had those lines\n\n    'How glorious from the loopholes of retreat\n    To peep at such a world.'\n\nAnd this concisely expresses the feeling with which a wearied man may\nseek his holiday in such an island as this. True it is, that Rothesay\nhas a telegraph, and a post office, and a newspaper, and that in two\nhours' time one can be set down in the heart of Glasgow. But the\ninsular charm is a great one.\n\n    'The promises of blooming spring live here,\n    And all the blessings of the ripening year.'\n\nThose lines were formerly inscribed at Mount Stuart House, the\nresidence of the Marquis of Bute, recently burnt and rebuilt. It lies\non the Clyde shore of the island, at no great distance from\nRothesay,--indeed there are no _great_ distances anywhere in the\nisland--and forms one of the many beautiful drives through the island.\nOn the way thither the village of Ascog is passed, where on a rocky\npoint jutting out into the river there is a little church, and at its\nend a monument to Montagu Stanley, poet, actor, artist, at one time\nwell known in Edinburgh society. From Mount Stuart and Ascog, and the\nother houses on this side of the island, there is an extensive view of\nthe Frith of Clyde, on the broad waters of which there is a\nnever-ending panorama of steamers, yachts, and gallant vessels.\n\n\n\n\nLOCH LOMOND.\n\n\nJustly termed the Queen of the Scottish Lochs, this magnificent sheet\nof water presents an almost infinite variety of scenery. It has on the\neastern side one of Scotland's notable mountains, Ben Lomond, and\naround are hills of lesser, though still great altitude, over which\nthe giant mountain towers as a monarch amidst his courtiers. There are\non the loch several excellent steamers, and as the distance from the\npier at Balloch to the landing place at Ardlui is upwards of twenty\nmiles, a day can be delightfully spent in going and returning, giving\nthe charms of Highland scenery without the ordinary fatigues of\ntravelling, and the delights of an excursion on a wide expanse of\nwater without the attendant risk of sea-sickness.\n\nThere are on the bosom of Loch Lomond several large islands, and many\nsmall islets, adding greatly to the beauty and variety of its scenery.\nSome of the islands are clad in oak; one is called Inchlonaig, or\nyew-tree island; some display the silvery leafage of the birch, others\nare covered with the hardier fir, and here again the element of\nvariety comes in to charm the sense. Our view shews the loch before it\nhas narrowed to the lesser channel between Inversnaid and Ardlui, and\nbefore it has lost the charm of those wooded islands that beautify the\nsouthern and wider part. The bulky form of Ben Lomond fills up the\nscene, and the sun shining amidst clouds is significant of the varied\nweather that may be encountered in one day. The wide reaches and more\nlowland aspects of the southern end may be passed in all the enjoyment\nof a noon-day summer sun, but ere the upper part of the loch is\nreached clouds may gather, and a sudden torrent of rain or a sullen\nblast of wind may overtake the voyager. But again, in an hour all is\npeaceful and beautiful, and the rain has served to augment and enhance\nthe burns, rivulets, and streams, whose crystal waters feed the loch\nfrom every shore. On several of the islands are ruins of old castles,\nand all around the scene is redolent of memories of old feuds, violent\nstrifes, and fierce clan struggles. To-day all this is changed, and we\nrevel only in the grandeur and beauty of the scene. Those caves hide\nno caterans to rob us, the cattle and sheep on hill or island are safe\nfrom the foray, and the dwellers around pay no black mail to save\nthemselves from the attentions of stout and bare-legged ruffians.\n\nAt Rowardennan Inn are guides and ponies, and although the stalwart\nman may dispense with the latter, it is not safe to attempt the ascent\nof Ben Lomond without a guide familiar with the road, for sudden mists\nmay envelop the climber, and a mistake in the road may lead to death.\nWhat is to be seen from the top? Rather ask what is not seen? Right\naway to 'the back of the North Wind' stretch the innumerable hills. To\nthe west the mountain ranges of Argyleshire, to the south-west the\nlong peninsula of Cantyre, with the waters of the Atlantic seen\nbeyond; to the east the castles of Stirling and Edinburgh may be\npicked out, to the south the busy Clyde, and in the foreground the\nsplendid loch itself. Ben Lomond stands as a sentinel or outer-guard\nto the Highlands, and hence the range of view from it is of unusual\nextent. All that is to be seen from it cannot be described, so rich,\nso extensive, so varied are the prospects presented.\n\nIt is said that last century a visitor wrote some lines on a\nwindow-pane at Tarbet Inn, on the ascent of Ben Lomond, and a few\nwords of his advice may fitly close our essay:--\n\n    Rest, oh! rest--long, long upon the top,\n    There 'hale the breezes, nor with toilsome haste\n    Down the rough slope thy youthful vigour waste.\n    So shall thy wondering sight at once survey,\n    Woods, lakes and mountains, valleys, rocks and sea,\n    Huge hills that heaped in crowded order stand,\n    Stretched o'er the western and the northern land.\n\n\n\n\nFALLS OF INVERSNAID.\n\n\nAn essential part of the Trosachs tour is the coach drive between\nInversnaid on Loch Lomond, and Stronachlacher pier, where the steamer\non Loch Katrine begins (or ends) her journey. There is one little loch\non the way, from which emerges the Arklet, which runs into Loch\nLomond, and forms the fine series of cascades of which the upper fall\nis shown in our view. There is almost no need to waste words in any\ndescription of this delightful scene, so well does the picture we\npresent describe itself. We may say of it, in lines that Wordsworth\nhas linked indissolubly with the place\n\n                      'A very shower\n    Of beauty is thy earthly dower\n\n           *       *       *       *       *\n\n    These trees, a veil just half withdrawn,\n    This fall of water, that doth make\n    A murmur near the silent lake.\n\n           *       *       *       *       *\n\n    In truth together do ye seem\n    Like something fashioned in a dream.'\n\nIt may well be doubted whether the Highland girl, with her 'twice\nseven consenting years,' and her 'homely ways and dress,' would have\nenchained the sympathetic poet, had he seen her in some place less\nlovely, or less provocative of a feeling of poetic contentment. Be\nthat as it may, it will be confessed that the scene, with or without a\n'Highland Girl' to stir the strings of the heart, will remain\nimpressed on the mind of every one who is sensible of the beautiful.\nAnd so we can join with Wordsworth, in the conclusion he arrives at,\nalways excepting, if necessary, his passion for the girl of fourteen--\n\n    'For I, methinks, till I grow old\n    As fair before me shall behold,\n    As I do now, the cabin small,\n    The lake, the bay, the waterfall,\n    And thee, the spirit of them all!'\n\nThere are many remembrances of Rob Roy, truthful some of them,\nfanciful the rest, in the vicinity of Inversnaid. Not far off is Rob\nRoy's Cave, the entrance scarcely visible, while within there is a\nvast cavern, whence in fancy we may descry\n\n    'The wild Macgregor's savage clan\n    Emerging at their chieftain's call\n    To foray or to festival.'\n\nOn the road between Loch Lomond and Loch Katrine is seen Inversnaid\nFort, now in ruins, having in itself a chequered history. Built in\n1713 to check the Macgregors, it is said to have been at one time\nresided in by General Wolfe. Now, like some doomed city of old, 'the\ncormorant and the bittern possess it,' for the Macgregors are at\npeace, their name and tartan are no longer proscribed, and now no\nblack-mail is levied on any one in the district but the strangers, and\nfor their protection the government has no need to provide. It is at\ntimes a costly thing to travel in the Highlands, when beds are at a\nransom, and all the wealth of Ind will not secure the coveted box seat\nof the coach. But a Macgregor who levies black-mail in a Scottish city\nhas put the thing in a nutshell, for when remonstrated with about his\ncharges he said, 'What for should I charge less?--my hoose is fu'\nevery nicht!' There is true political economy shaking hands with the\nplunderer of the Saxon!\n\n\n\n\nLOCH KATRINE.\n\n\nThe most brilliant gem in the loch scenery of Scotland is\nunquestionably Loch Katrine or Ketturin, and it is needful, however\nattractive or deserving of praise other waters may have proved, to\navoid exhausting upon them the vocabulary of praise, lest no words of\ngreater admiration should be left for this, the loveliest of them all.\nEven if Scott had not superadded to Loch Katrine the witchery of his\ngenius, and made Ellen's Isle as famous among the abodes of heroines\nas the Fountain of Vaucluse, this water would have asserted its claim\nto public regard. True, it was Scott that gave the impetus for touring\nin Scotland--or Scott-land as some have called it!--and Loch Katrine\nthus obtained a first hold upon the admiration of the world. But spite\nof all rivals, it maintains first rank, and although it cannot cope\nwith Loch Lomond or Loch Maree in point of size, neither of those\ngreat lochs command the same admiration.\n\nScott in _The Lady of the Lake_, has depicted the scene in words of\nfire; taking sunset for the time. The 'gallant grey' has fallen,--the\nguides still point out the very spot!--and the huntsman pursues his\nway till the end of the glen is reached, and Loch Katrine bursts on\nhis view,\n\n                'An airy point he won,\n    Where, gleaming with the setting sun\n    One burnished sheet of living gold,\n    Loch Katrine lay beneath him rolled,\n    In all her length far winding lay\n    With promontory, creek and bay,\n    And islands that, empurpled bright\n    Floated amid the livelier light,\n    And mountains that like giants stand,\n    To sentinel enchanted land.'\n\nIn pointing to 'promontory, creek, and bay,' as the characteristics of\nthe loch, Scott has depicted its most charming attributes, while the\nislands, of which Ellen's Isle is the largest, help to enhance the\neffect. As the little steamer breaks the still waters into drops that\nglance like gems in the sunlight, the scene changes every\nmoment,--changes in detail, but never in degree of beauty, for the\nloch is lovely throughout, and never fails to enchant the eye.\n\nThe chief attraction of the loch itself is the lovely wooded isle that\nfills the foreground of our view,\n\n    'The wild rose, eglantine, and broom,\n    Wasted around their rich perfume.\n    The birch trees wept in fragrant balm,\n    The aspens slept beneath the calm,\n    The silver light, with quivering glance\n    Play'd on the water's still expanse.'\n\nSeldom indeed will the casual visitor have the opportunity of viewing\nthis scene thus, by the silvery moonlight. But in sunlight it is not\nless beautiful, and the description is complete. Next to the island,\nthe point of attraction is the 'silver strand,' from whence one of the\nmany fine views of Ben Venne may be had.\n\nWhile Loch Katrine thus ministers to our love for the beautiful, its\nwaters have learned to combine the _utile_ with the _dulce_, and here,\nin October 1859, came Queen Victoria to turn on the water for the\nsupply of Glasgow. Many and fierce were the controversies as to this\nscheme. But Lord Provost Stewart, who was mercilessly assailed for\nupholding such a costly scheme of water supply, is now commemorated in\nGlasgow by a splendid fountain in the West-End Park, and staticians\nand sanitary reformers are able to show that the death rate amongst\nthe half million crowded workers in Glasgow has manifestly lessened\nsince the city acquired the right to drink the sparkling waters of\nLoch Katrine.\n\n\n\n\nLOCH LUBNAIG.\n\n\nTurning aside from the formal round of the Trosachs and Loch Lomond,\nto penetrate into that wonderful district which the Callander and Oban\nrailway has opened up, we reach, at no great distance from Callander,\nLoch Lubnaig, 'the crooked lake,' so called from its bent form, which\nis almost identical with the form of the boomerang. The river Leny,\nwhich drains the lake, passes through the Pass of Leny, once famous as\na gateway defending the entrance to the Highlands. Here, whether\nviewed from the train or the road, the river is seen to rush over huge\nrocks, tearing, roaring, and tumbling, in a manner calculated to\nterrify the timid entrant to this wild district.\n\nThe lake itself lies clear, black, and deep, a somewhat sullen, yet\nalways beautiful sheet of water. On the left the dark masses of Ben\nLedi cast their shadows upon the water, intensifying the depth of its\ntone, and giving the loch its distinctive character. Near the water\nthe banks are in many places full of gentle woodland beauty, but as a\nrule the impression made by the overhanging bulk and the dusky-hued\nrocks of Ben Ledi, absorb the sense, and the loch ever presents an\nidea of grandeur and desolation. The railway line follows the edge of\nthe loch over its whole length, and the construction of this track\nformed a most difficult engineering task, which at some stages of its\nprogress was nigh abandoned in despair. To get round the hard and\nunyielding shoulders of the mountain, where they impinged direct upon\nthe water, embankments had to be made across a number of bays and arms\nof the loch. In one case the task of throwing rocks and stones into\nthe water was persevered in for nine months without perceptible\nresult, but by continued labour a footing above water level was at\nlast obtained. As the train pursues its course along the bank of the\nlovely loch,--the eye the while rejoicing in the dark and placid\nbeauty of the water, and the charm of the hill scenery beyond,--there\nwill at times come the feeling that the distance between the carriage\nwindow and the treacherously pellucid depths of the loch is all too\nlittle. The fear is unfounded, for no sign of subsidence has been\nshewn--the mass of stones thrown in was too solid for that. But this\nis a feature in the case that no traveller will fail to notice, and\nthe impression thus made by Loch Lubnaig makes it a water which once\nseen will never be forgotten.\n\nNear the debouchure of the river is St. Bride's Chapel, where Angus\nthrust the fiery cross into the hands of Norman, as described in _The\nLady of the Lake_. About half-way up the loch is Ardchullary\nfarmhouse, which was at one time the retreat of Bruce the traveller in\nAbyssinia, who here wrote the volumes on which a century ago such keen\ncontroversies arose. On the opposite side, where the railway runs, is\nLaggan, said to have been the abode of Helen Macgregor, whom Rob Roy\ncarried off from here by force and married. In the veritable histories\nof Rob Roy, however, his wife's name is given as Mary, daughter of\nMacgregor of Comar.\n\n\n\n\nLOCH EARN.\n\n\nNo one can accuse the Scottish lochs of want of variety, for in each\nis found some specialty, some individual beauty, that stamps it on the\nmind, so that the visitor can carry away a distinct impression.\nNobody, for example, who has been at St. Fillans, or attended the\nannual games there, is likely to have any difficulty in remembering\nthis pretty modern village, and the fine loch near which it lies. St.\nFillan, it may be mentioned is a personage of great sanctity in\nScottish hagiology. And when his crosier, carried away to Canada by\nits 'Dewar' or hereditary keeper, was recently restored to Scotland,\nand placed in the National Museum at Edinburgh, one might have almost\ndoubted whether Scotland were really Protestant at all, so full was\nevery one of the fame of this great miracle-working saint. As is well\nknown, it was the presence of his arm-bone, in the hands of the Abbot\nof Inchaffray, which enabled the Scots to win the battle of\nBannochburn!\n\nLoch Earn, it is to be understood, was known before the Trosachs.\nAlthough shut in at its upper end by the gloomy hills that darken Glen\nOgle, and from that side until recently not very accessible, it was\nreached from Crieff and St. Fillans, long before Scott invented those\nwondrous stories about the Trosachs district which are to-day so\nveritable that the scene of each incident is pointed out. And in its\nperfection of beauty--for so we consider it--it well deserves to hold\nits place in public regard. The reverse view from that given here is\nalso beautiful, and it may be said that no more perfect scene can be\nwitnessed than from the carriage window in the Oban train as, high on\nthe side of a steep and terror-striking mountain, it enables the\nvisitor to look down, as with a bird's-eye view, upon this lovely\nloch. The sheet of water is symmetrical, a feature which may be a\nbeauty or a disadvantage, according as the spectator looks for\ncompleteness of display, or for mystery as the aim of the picturesque.\nBut, as it is expressed by MacCulloch, Loch Earn is 'consistent and\ncomplete,' and he points out that by this completeness it possesses an\nappearance of extent beyond which it actually possesses. The mind can\ngrasp it all, but we feel that there is a great deal to be grasped.\nThe hills are sufficiently high to give dignity to the scene, and the\nglowing verdure all around gives it softness and beauty. Benvoirlich\nis its summit hill, and the house of Ardvoirlich--the 'Darlinvaroch'\nof Scott's _Legend of Montrose_--occupies a fine spot half way down\nthe loch. In this mansion is preserved a singular talisman, a perfect\nsphere of rock crystal, with four silver bands, which throughout the\ncountry side has the credit of curing diseases when dipped in water to\nbe drunk by the patient.\n\nIt remains to notice some physical peculiarities of this loch.\nAlthough situated at an elevation of several hundred feet above\nsea-level, its temperature is so equal that the water is never known\nto freeze, and even the stream that flows from it never shows ice on\nits surface till it has run several miles into bleaker regions. The\ndepth of the water is at some places six hundred feet, and as it lies\nin the immediate region of earthquake in Scotland, it is allowable to\nconjecture that some hidden fire of nature far below keeps the water\njust a point or two above ordinary heat, and thus produces the\nphenomenon stated. There are trout in the loch, and leave to fish can\nreadily be obtained at either end, as the hotel keepers have boats\nupon the loch.\n\n\n\n\nLOCH TAY.\n\n\nMany of the lochs of which we have spoken have the advantage of Loch\nTay as regards the number of their visitors, and their repute in\ndistant parts. But in no case is greater beauty to be seen than here,\nand no spot in Scotland will more fully repay the labour of travelling\nto see it. It lies surrounded with splendid hills, Ben Lawers on the\nnorth proudly towering over the scene. It is very finely wooded over\nall its banks, and its slightly irregular form creates change and\nvariety at every mile of the way. It is the merit of Loch Tay that now\nthe visitor has 'three courses' before him, like a great statesman of\nour day. When he leaves Killin station at the upper end, or Aberfeldy\nstation at the lower end, he may follow the coach route on the north\nside, or he may prefer the less public road on the south side, or he\nmay sail on the bosom of the water in the steamer, the _Lady of the\nLake_, launched in 1882 by the Earl of Breadalbane. From Killin, the\ndirection of our view, the north road, which is generally followed,\nlies to the left. Just at the head of the road--one of the roads made\nby General Wade--is seen the ivy-covered ruin of Finlarig Castle,\nsituated amidst fine woods, and having near it the burial place of the\nBreadalbane family. The Queen, visiting Taymouth Castle in 1842,\nlunched at Auchmore, where the south road strikes off. She speaks of\nthe scene as enchanting, and it would be difficult to find a more\nappropriate word. Ben Lawers, the ascent of which is made from Lawers\ninn, has not many superiors in height in Scotland, and its ascent is\nnot difficult, while the view from it is superb. Behind Ben Lawers,\nand further on running to a junction with the valley in which Loch Tay\nlies, is the grand district of Glen Lyon, of which many think, that\nfrom its upper reaches in the Forest of Mamlorn to where the Lyon\nfalls into the Tay, there is not a glen in Scotland so weird and yet\nso verdantly beautiful. The ascent of Ben Lawers, it may be mentioned,\nhas special charms for the botanist, boasting amidst many rare plants\nthe drooping saxifrage (_S. cernua_,) not elsewhere found in this\ncountry. The district abounds in water and in waterfalls, including\nthe falls of Acharn, which are seen from the north side, but may be\nvisited if the south road be taken. From near Aberfeldy, when the\nnoble river Tay, the birth of this grand loch, has run some miles of\nits course, the tourist naturally turns aside to visit the falls of\nMoness, 'the epitome of waterfalls,' as Pennant says, on a stream\nwhich flows through the town of Aberfeldy. Here is the scene so\nexquisitely sung by Burns;\n\n    'The braes ascend like lofty wa's\n    The foaming stream, deep-roaring, fa's\n    O'er hung wi' fragrant, spreading shaws,\n                The Birks o' Aberfeldy.'\n\nClose by Kenmore, at the lower end of the loch is a wooded island, on\nwhich lies buried Princess Sybilla, daughter of Henry I. and wife of\nthe Scots King, Alexander I. In the inn-parlour at Kenmore Burns wrote\nsome lines of intense feeling and adoration, in which he dwells on\n\n    'The sweeping theatre of hanging woods;\n    Th' incessant roar of headlong tumbling floods,'\n\n--twin characteristics of this most attractive region.\n\n\n\n\nLOCH AWE.\n\n\nIt is but seldom that the eye can rest upon so much soft beauty and\nstern grandeur as can be seen at one moment in looking at this grand\nloch. Rivalling Loch Lomond in length, it is much narrower, and while\nricher, is perhaps less varied. In sailing over its clear waters, the\nrichly wooded islands and green banks suggest some large and placid\nriver. Crowded with islands, especially at its upper part, each one\nwith its ruin, its legend, or its sylvan beauty to attract, the loch\nis in all respects charming. There is Inishail--the island of the\nfair, immortalized by Hamerton,--Inis-Fraoch, the Hesperides of Celtic\nromance, with golden fruit, a dragon, a lover, and a legend, all in\ndue form, Inistrynich, the island of the Druids, and many others. And\nnear the head of the loch is the peninsula on which stands Kilchurn\nCastle, to whom we may say with Wordsworth,\n\n                    'thy hour of rest\n    Is come, and thou art silent in thy age.'\n\nThis ruin is one of the favourite subjects of the Scottish landscape\npainter, and its picturesque character is well seen in our view.\nThough now a complete wreck, it was entire and served as a post for\nthe royal troops in the '45, and almost within living memory it was a\nhabitable mansion. It is said that an economical steward of the Earl\nof Breadalbane fancied the roof timbers would be useful at Taymouth\nCastle, and had them removed. It is certain that for long the gigantic\nstronghold served as a common quarry for the surrounding district, and\nthat even the church in the adjoining Glen Orchy has in it some stones\nfrom the old castle. On the high ground to the right is a circular\nand somewhat rude yet effective stone monument to Duncan Ban\nMacintyre, of Glen Orchy, who died in Edinburgh in 1812, aged 89\nyears, and whose fame as a Gaelic poet is unique.\n\nAt its upper end the loch forks into two arms, that to the right\nreceiving the Orchy and other feeders, while that to the left runs\nthrough the dark Pass of Brander, and there, in the river Awe, the\nloch finds its outlet. Formerly the saying that 'it's a far cry to\nLochow' had more significance, for now the railway has made this grand\nloch easily accessible, and as the line skirts the upper end of the\nloch (where a large hotel has been built) and proceeds on terraced\nbanks through the Pass of Brander, crossing the rapids of the Awe on a\nhigh bridge, the traveller enjoys the beauties of the district in a\nlarge degree. The sail on the loch is, however, a part of the Highland\ntour which no visitor should forego.\n\nBen Cruachan, whose double peak (the highest 3667 feet) dominates the\ndistrict, is one of the most striking of the Scottish hills, in its\nmassive form, magnificently swelling contours, and unique position,\ngiving perhaps a greater idea of bulk than other hills of the same\nheight. On three sides it rises from the water's edge, Loch Awe in its\ntwo upper branches, the river Awe, and Loch Etive, the sea-loch into\nwhich the latter runs, washing its base. The ascent of this noble Ben\nis best made from the Bridge of Awe, a scene rendered familiar in\nScott's _Highland Widow_, and the view from the summit is magnificent.\nNo one will ever regret the toil of surmounting\n\n                    'yon sovereign lord\n    Huge Cruachan, a thing that meaner hills\n    Might crush, nor know that it had suffered harm.'\n\n\n\n\nLOCH ETIVE.\n\n\nComing round the base of Ben Cruachan by rail, and leaving the Pass of\nBrander and the rapids of the river Awe, the observant traveller will\nnot fail to notice that the large and spreading water he now\napproaches has the character of a sea loch. If no other indication\nwere given, the presence of brown sea-wrack along the margin of the\nwater would show that here the tides ebb and flow. Far away to the\nright, surrounded by grand hills, and closed in at the distance by the\nbulky shoulders of Buchael Etive, is the upper reach of the loch,\nforming in itself a most attractive portion of Highland scenery. The\nrailway, however, confines itself solely to the south side of the\nlower and salter reach of the water, separated from the inner loch by\na reef of rocks, through the chief opening in which the receding tide\nrushes with the character of a waterfall. Passing along the loch,\nthere is seen on the north side the remains of Ardchattan Priory, one\nof the three religious houses established in Scotland after the\npattern of those in the Val de Choux (Cabbage Valley, or, _Scottice_,\nKale Glen, as the recent historian of Pluscardyn ingeniously puts it)\nnear Chatillon, in Burgundy. Loch Etive narrows at its mouth at\nConnell Ferry, and then opens grandly into Loch Linnhe.\n\nDunstaffnage Castle, shown in the view, is one of the royal castles of\nthe Duke of Argyle. The building, which is of great antiquity and\nstrength, was destroyed by fire in 1715. Some guns supposed to have\nbelonged to the Spanish Armada are in the castle, and the remains of a\nchapel are seen, in which are supposed to rest, not only the remains\nof the actual King Alexander II, but of various more or less\napocryphal Dalriad kings. Over the water is shown the site of the\nPictish capital of Beregonium, (said to have been destroyed by fire\nfrom heaven!) and, near it, on Bal-an-righ, is a vitrified hill fort,\nthe _Selma_ of the poems of Ossian.\n\nAt Dunstaffnage was at one time kept the Coronation Stone, or Stone of\nDestiny, of which the tradition says that it was the veritable stone\non which Jacob laid his head when he had the dream on his way to\nPadan-Aram! Geologists say that the structure of the _Lia Fail_ agrees\nwith that of the stones at Dunstaffnage. Leaving out tradition, the\nstone is said to have been removed from this place to Scone, near\nPerth, where the kings of Scotland continued to be crowned till Edward\nLongshanks removed this Scottish palladium to Westminster Abbey, where\nit remains to-day, fixed beneath the coronation chair. It is said that\nEdward II. was willing to restore the Stone of Destiny to Scotland,\nbut was prevented by the London mob. The 'destiny' was proclaimed in\nverses that have been rendered in this form\n\n    'Unless the fates are faithless grown\n      And prophets voice be vain\n    Where'er is found this sacred stone\n      The Scottish race shall reign.'\n\nWithout a doubt, the house of Brunswick claims the throne of those\nrealms in consequence of their Stuart descent, so that the stone has\nnot as yet failed in its effect, and every one desires that the\n'destiny' should continue in the same line, whether the boulder from\nthe borders of Loch Etive has anything to do with the matter or not.\n\n\n\n\nTHE FALLS OF FOYERS.\n\n\nHere we have the culmination, as regards beauty, of the waterfalls of\nScotland. This is one of the scenes that struck the imagination of\nBurns, as, standing by the fall, he wrote in pencil words that can\nnever be omitted in any description for they fulfil all that\ndescription can effect--\n\n    'Among the heathy hills and rugged woods\n    The roaring Foyers pours his mossy floods\n    Till full he dashes on the rocky mounds\n    Where thro' a shapeless breach his stream resounds\n    As high in air the bursting torrents flow\n    As deep recoiling surges foam below\n    Prone down the rock the whitening sheet descends\n    And viewless Echo's ear, astonished, rends:\n    Dim seen through rising mists and ceaseless showers\n    The hoary cavern, wide surrounding, lowers,\n    Still, thro' the gap the struggling river toils\n    And still, below, the horrid cauldron boils.'\n\nThe last idea is one that ever recurs in the presence of a great\nwaterfall, and in every respect the description is perfect, the\nshapeless breach, the bursting torrent and the deep recoiling surges\nare each impressed on the mind, even if the visitor has not read\nBurns's lines. When Dr. Johnson visited Scotland, he too saw the Fall\nof 'Fiers' as it is called in his _Journey to the Western Islands_,\nand although a long continuance of dry weather had robbed the fall of\nmuch of its promised grandeur, Dr. Johnson, while philosophically\nremarking that 'Nature never gives everything at once,' gives a\nstriking word-picture, exercising as he says, his thoughts to\n'conceive the effect of a thousand streams poured from the mountains\ninto one channel, struggling for expansion in a narrow passage,\nexasperated by rocks rising in their way and at last discharging all\ntheir violence of waters by a sudden fall through the horrid chasm.'\nThis is splendid, and if old Samuel Johnson had seen Foyers at its\nbest he could not have improved on the description.\n\nThe steamers on Loch Ness invariably stay at the pier of Foyers,\naffording time to walk to the grand falls. The hotel here is built on\nthe site of 'General's Hut,' and still in Johnson's day it is 'not ill\nstocked with provisions.' The name is given because General Wade, when\nsuperintending those roads that are rendered famous by his epitaph,\nwas lodged at this spot. There are two falls, with a distance of about\na quarter of a mile between them, the lower or great fall being that\nshown in the view. Over the upper fall there is a light bridge thrown,\nand the scene here is very fine, though it is exceeded in grandeur by\nthe snow-white rush of the lower waterfall. The latter earns its\ntitle of the 'fall of smoke,' the spray rising in never-ceasing clouds\nof grey mist-like smoke.\n\nA notable scene in the immediate vicinity of Foyers is the Pass of\nInverfarigaig, with vast cliffs, and many interesting geological\npoints of study. By ascending this pass and striking westward a fine\napproach can be obtained to the upper fall of Foyers. Again, by a\nferry near the pier, the loch can be crossed, and the quaintly shaped\nhill of Mealfourvonie can be ascended. Again, a short distance brings\nthe visitor to Castle Urquhart, while a little further on is\nDrumnadrochit, rendered famous by _Punch's_ Fat Contributor,--'your\nhealth sir, in a dram!'--where but for the telegraph wire, and the\npost office, and the newspaper, and the frequent steamboats, a man\nmight moon away his time, and never tire of the fine air, the\nwonderful surroundings, and the remote stillness. If a man wished to\nbe a hermit, and yet see much of the world, to be unoccupied, yet\nnever fail of variety of occupation, to be rested and refreshed, yet\ninterested and employed, he could not do better than take up his abode\nat Foyers for the four or five months of the long days between April\nand October.\n\n\n\n\nLOCH NESS.\n\n\nThis loch, with soundings deeper than any in the German Ocean, has\ncome into notice in an especial manner, because it forms, in its\ntwenty-four miles, a large section of famous tourist route, the\nCaledonian Canal. The loch is within a few miles of the handsome town\nof Inverness; the river Ness, draining the loch, running through the\ntown to the Moray Firth after a short but lovely course over the\nintervening distance. Between Loch Ness and the outlet there lies a\nvast gravel peninsula, dividing the section known as Loch Dochfour\nfrom the rest, the barricade thus formed being a safeguard to the town\nagainst the enormous pressure of water that would otherwise flow out\nin times of flood. As it is, the records of the town point to terrible\ndevastations from the Ness coming down in strength. The deep waters of\nthe loch get lashed into stormy waves by gusts of wind rushing down\nfrom the surrounding glens, so that Loch Ness does not always present\nthe peaceful aspect of our view, as seen by the summer visitor. But we\nwill take it on such a day by preference, and can warrant to every one\nwho comes that the sail in the fine steamers plying on the loch and\ncanal will be redolent of joy and beauty and grandeur. We may conceive\nthat there is more comfort and ease in seeing Loch Ness than when, a\nhundred and nine years ago Johnson and Boswell rode along its shores.\nBut the high terms in which Bozzy speaks of the scene are as fresh\nto-day as then, for the road shaded with birch trees, the hills above\nit, the 'sequestered and agreeably wild' scene, are as fitted to\nengross attention as ever. We know also that they would see Castle\nUrquhart, on its prominent peninsula, and would probably be struck by\nthe notable form of the hill called Mealfourvonie. They stopped at the\n'General's Hut,' as indeed we all do, for the new hotel at Foyers is\nbuilt on its site, whence we take the road to visit the falls of that\nname, as described elsewhere.\n\nFort Augustus, standing at the western end of the loch, is now a\nBenedictine monastery and school. Built after the Jacobite rising in\n1715, as part of the plan for holding the turbulent Highlanders in\nsubjection, it remained crown property for a century and a half, and\nfalling into disuse and neglect was then sold for its present purpose.\n\nAlthough our view gives but a small section of the loch, our notice\nmay be directed to the other parts of the route that now yearly\ncarries thousands of tourists through the Glenmore-nan-Albin. There is\nat Corpach the famous 'Neptune's staircase,' where eight locks bring\nthe boat from the outer loch to the canal level. Loch Lochy, ten miles\nin length, forms the western portion. Then after two miles of canal\nLoch Oich is reached, this sheet of water being four miles long. Then\nanother cut takes to Loch Ness, the whole distance, from the staircase\nto Muirton lock on the east side being about fifty miles. The entire\nroute, barring the delay at the locks up and down, has all the charm\nof one continuous voyage on an inland lake, the portions in canal\nbeing almost indistinguishable except in width from the natural\nchannels. There is a constant variety and glory of scenery during the\nday's sail, and nowhere can the traveller spend a holiday with more\ndelightful surroundings.\n\n\n\n\nLOCH CORUISK.\n\n\nThere are few scenes more fitted to move the imagination than the\nwonderful loch, and the more wonderful hills that surround it,\npresented in this view. It is somewhat of an exaggeration for Sir\nWalter Scott to say that here\n\n    'Nor tree, nor shrub, nor plant, nor flower,\n    Nor ought of vegetative power\n            The weary eye may ken.'\n\nBut this is distinctly the impression of a first survey of the wild\nscene, though under glints of sunshine there will not fail to meet the\neye little snatches of grassy bottom and stunted herbage, here and\nthere in the midst of the rocks. Yet there is so little to relieve the\nsingular darkness of the rock-pent water, and the dusky green of the\nCuchullin hills that surround it, that one fully appreciates, even in\nthe brightest weather, how true a picture Scott has drawn of the\nscene:--\n\n      'For rarely human eye has known\n    A scene so stern as that dread lake\n      With its dark ledge of barren stone.\n    Seems that primeval earthquake's sway\n    Hath rent a strange and shattered way\n      Through the rude bosom of the hill,\n    And that each naked precipice\n    Sable ravine and dark abyss\n      Tells of the outrage still.'\n\nTo see Coruisk in fine weather is impressive, but it is when leaden\nclouds weigh down the atmosphere, and dank mists clothe the rugged\npeaks around, that the scene comes out in its full and weird\nimpressiveness. Then 'naked precipice,' 'sable ravine,' and 'dark\nabyss,' are seen to be true words, and there comes on the spectator\nsome feeling of scenes that have been read of in Dante or Milton:--\n\n                            'He views\n    The dismal situation, waste and wild.\n    A dungeon horrible on all sides round * *\n    Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace\n    And rest can never dwell.'\n\nBut we must not give too black a character to this loch and its\nsurrounding hills. It is no Malebolge, filled by 'sounds and sights\nunholy,' and while it impresses by its solitude and grandeur, it also\ngratifies by its intense feeling of repose, and its remoteness from\nthe ills of busier life. Those visiting Coruisk will view with wonder\nthe extraordinary peaks of the Cuchullins, (pronounced Coolins,) each\nmore fantastic and broken than his neighbour, and all consisting of\nthe green-black hypersthene trap that gives its character to the\nscenery here. South-east of the loch is the mighty bulk of Blabheinn,\n(pronounced Blaven,) a huge mass with precipitous sides, down which,\non the occurrence of one of the frequent showers of this watery isle,\nthe rain is seen to descend in broken rills of dazzling whiteness,\nmaking an extraordinary effect upon the upright face of dark rock. To\nthe north-east, the Cuchullin hills terminate in the ragged triple\npeak of Scuir-na-gillean, the rock or hill of the young men. This\nheight was first scaled, in recorded history, in 1836, when Principal\nForbes, of glacial fame, ascended it, and since then, with guides, it\nhas been frequently climbed. But from the extraordinary formation of\nthe hill, the ascent is a work of much danger, and lives have been\nlost in the attempt. The peak is a narrow ledge, precipitous on every\nside. The height is 3220 feet, and although Scuir-na-Banachtich, the\nwestmost peak, is believed to be as high, it has not been climbed so\nfar as is known, and thus Scuir-na-gillean holds first rank in this\nwonderful group of mountains.\n\n\n\n\nLOCH MAREE.\n\n\nThe first sight of this glorious loch, as the stage coach from\nAuchnasheen station brings the traveller to the top of a steep\ndescent, is calculated to excite the liveliest emotions of wonder and\nsurprise. The road reminds one of some Alpine pass, while far below\nstretches the large sheet of water, with its western end eighteen\nmiles away. If for a moment a feeling of the smallness of the loch\nshould supervene, the huge hills dwindling it down by their enormous\nbulk, this soon passes away, and we feel to be in presence of one of\nScotland's proudest lochs. The coach drive to Gairloch occupies six\nhours in all, including a short stoppage to bait the horses at\nKinlochewe, and during the whole time the eye is filled with pictures\nof grandeur or of delight. After the tedious descent to the water's\nedge has convinced you that the feeling of smallness is a mistake, you\nhave time to observe the effect which such a mountain as Ben Slioch\nhas in dwarfing all around it. Loch Maree is but six miles from the\nsea, with no great descent, so that the hill raises its mighty\nshoulders almost sheer from the sea level. From the road you perceive,\nskirting the loch on the other side, what seems a fringe of very small\nbushes. But anon a two-storey house appears among the bushes, which\nnow, with a known standard of comparison, are seen to be tall trees!\nFrom the top of Ben Slioch, or any of the neighbouring mountains of\nfirst-class size, the view is grand, embracing at once the Atlantic\nand the German Oceans. On the opposite side from Ben Slioch is the\nScottish _Pentelicus_, Ben Eay, whose brilliant white quartz pinnacle\nmay sometimes be seen shining in the sun, like the famed marble\nmountains of Greece.\n\nOn the bosom of Loch Maree, near its widest end, are several islands,\nthe largest of which, Eilan Mhaolrubh, contains the remains of an old\nchapel, and a holy well that is even yet in high repute amongst the\nignorant. It is sometimes said that the chapel, island, and loch get\ntheir name from the Virgin Mary, but this is now universally\nacknowledged amongst scholars to be an error. It was the Irish\npreacher, Maelrubha, (Latinised to Malrubius, then softened down in\nlocal tongues to Mulray, Mourie, and Maree,) who came over to Scotland\nin the seventh century, who gave his name to the place. Dr. Arthur\nMitchell, in his Rhind Lectures on Civilization, has told in full the\nstory of the curious superstitions concerning this island, of which\nexamples as recently as twenty years ago are quoted. It is to be noted\nthat when, a year or two ago, the Queen visited the island, great\nindignation was expressed in some quarters, because it was on a Sunday\nevening she got rowed over from her retreat at Talladale to see this\ninteresting place.\n\nThe coach leaves the edge of the loch at Talladale, after a lovely and\nvaried drive along its banks, now in the bosom of a dense wood, now in\nthe midst of a rocky chaos,\n\n    'The fragments of an earlier world.'\n\nA few miles down the road are found the romantic falls of the Kerry.\nThe man on the box seat at the left of the coach looks sheer down the\nprecipice over which the stream falls, as the coach with a swing turns\nthe corner of the steep road, with little visible between the\ntraveller and the dangers of that awful chasm!\n\n\n\n\nFALLS OF THE GARRAVALT.\n\n\nAlthough not reckoning amongst the grander waterfalls of Scotland, the\ncataract on the Garravalt, in the Queen's Forest of Ballochbuie, is\nbehind few in the picturesque wildness of its surroundings. The name\nin Gaelic,--'Garbh-allt'--is characteristic and descriptive,\nsignifying a rough brook, and our view of the roaring cataract shews\nhow completely it deserves that name. The entire course of the stream,\nfrom its rise in Cairn Taggart, one of the Loch-na-gar group of hills,\nis about five miles, and the linn itself is little more than half a\nmile from where the Garravalt joins the Dee. To reach the place,--and\nfew visitors to the famed district of Deeside will omit to visit\nit,--only a slight deviation from the road leading from Crathie and\nBalmoral to the Castleton of Braemar is called for, the place where\nthe road leads off being close beside the Bridge of Invercauld, over\nthe Dee.\n\nThis waterfall, the finest of several in Deeside, has been\nenthusiastically praised by every writer. The Queen, in the _Leaves\nfrom the Journal of Our Life in the Highlands_, says, 'From the road\nin the wood we walked up to the _Falls of the Garbhalt_, which are\nbeautiful. The rocks are very grand, and the view from the little\nbridge, and also from a seat a little lower down, is very pretty.' Her\nMajesty has here indicated the two points of view generally chosen,\nnamely that from the bridge looking down, and that from below, looking\nup the stream, the latter being adopted for our representation. To\nsay, as one writer has done, that 'the water comes foaming and raging\nand toiling down in a manner almost impossible to be described,' is to\nabdicate the chief functions of a word painter. The waters come\nroaring and rushing down the rocky cleft, hurrying over the blocks and\nstones that impede their passage, and creating a noise that is heard\nfar off,\n\n              'Confounding,\n              Astounding,\n          Dizzying and deafening the ear with its sound\n    And so never ending, but always descending\n    Sound and motion for ever and ever are blending.'\n\nThe eye never tires in looking at the lively scene, and the ear drinks\nin the murmuring and thundering sound, which has the usual faculty of\nswelling and falling, till the mind gets imbued with the idea that the\nwaters are endowed with the faculty of speech, so that we\ninvoluntarily ask 'what are the wild waves saying?' and linger long at\nthe spot in the vain hope that the varying syllables of the living\nwater will yet form themselves into intelligible words. This is not to\nbe however, and we may turn away to look for a moment at the\npicturesque country in which this attractive waterfall is situated.\nThe steep pine-covered hill is called the Forest of Ballochbuie. Here\nagain we may turn to the Queen's book, where 'the aspect of the wood\nwhich is called Balloch Buie' is described as 'most lovely.' It is\nsaid that this ground was at one time given to the Farquharsons of\nInvercauld, by the Earl of Mar, for a tartan plaid. It is now royal\nproperty, and forms an extensive and valued addition to the forest of\nBalmoral, which lies between Ballochbuie and the castle. It was in the\nMar territory, at the Castleton of Braemar, that in 1715 the then Earl\nof Mar raised his standard in support of the Chevalier St. George,\nwhom he had previously, in Glenlivat, proclaimed as King James the\nEighth of Scotland. Here, where 'the gathering pipe on Loch-na-gar'\nwas heard sounding 'long and sairly,' the inheritor of the crown of\nthe Stewarts has frequently attended a very different gathering on the\n'Braes o' Mar,' when the Duffs, the Farquharsons, and other clans\nmeet, not for feuds and bloodshed, but for the athletic rivalries of\n'tossing the caber' and other native games.\n\n\n\n\nTHE DHU LOCH--LOCH-NA-GAR.\n\n\nIt is perhaps puzzling to the stranger to learn that Loch-na-gar is a\nmountain, 3768 feet above the level of the sea, though there is on the\nsummit, and hemmed in by steep precipices, a small sheet of water that\ngives its name to the hill. But in the Dhu Loch, a little further in\nthe heart of this mountainous district, we find one of the most\nstriking scenes in Scotland. It was of the hill and its surroundings\nthat Lord Byron wrote his familiar lines,\n\n    'Away ye gay landscapes, ye gardens of roses,\n      In you let the minions of luxury rove.\n    Restore me the rocks where the snowflake reposes,\n      Tho' still they are sacred to freedom and love.\n    O Caledonia, beloved are thy mountains,\n      Round their white summits though elements war,\n    Though cataracts foam, 'stead of smooth-flowing fountains,\n      I sigh for the valley of dark Loch-na-gar.'\n\nThe _Dhu Loch_, or black loch--a well-deserved name--has its bed, as\nshown in our view, in steep and desperate precipices of granite, and\nfor sternness of outline is not excelled. The red-deer on its banks\nare undisturbed, for seldom does the foot of man intrude on their\nrepose, and while the water is clear, it is strongly discoloured by\nthe peat, and the absence of foliage, with the sterile loneliness of\nthe scene, make men shun rather than court its remote solitudes. 'The\nscenery is beautiful here,' says the Queen, in her _Leaves from the\nJournal of our Life in the Highlands_, 'so wild and grand,--real\nsevere Highland scenery,' and the description is surely a true one. No\none can come about the Dhu Loch without being prepared for 'several\nscrambles,' like the royal party, and without being prepared also to\nendure the 'severity' as well as enjoy the beauty of the place. If he\ndoes not, like Lord Byron, admit Loch-na-gar to be 'the most sublime\nand picturesque of Caledonian Alps,'--for perhaps some hill already\nnamed in this volume, unknown to Byron, such as Blaven, or Ben Eay,\nmight dispute the title--still he will acknowledge that it is a\nwonderful region. It is said that on a fair calculation of what\nelements go to make up a desirable climate, the kingdom has nothing\nbetter to offer than Braemar, and that Balmoral is the ideal site for\na residence. The district is like all that belonged to the little bear\nin the child's story. The hills are neither too high nor too low, but\njust right. The climate is neither too mild nor too severe, but just\nright. The rainfall is neither too much nor too little, but just\nright. In short it is a perfect region,--perfect in its variety of\nscenery, from the rich woodlands of its lower ranges to the wild\ngrandeur of its mountain recesses. Perfect is it also in its fine\nlochs, its picturesque waterfalls, its brattling burns, and its\nrolling rivers.\n\nThe waters from the Dhu Loch run into Loch Muick, above which lies the\nhut at Altnaghuissac, a favourite _shiel_, or mountain summer house of\nthe royal family when living at Balmoral. This lies in the very\ninnermost recesses of a grand region, and here the pure air, and the\nsplendid views, combine to make a haven of retreat, whether, as in the\ncase of royalty, from the cares of state and the turmoil of politics,\nor, in the case of the jaded man of business, from the burdens and\nanxieties of the daily grind of life. Those characteristics, more or\nless true of the whole inner region of Aberdeenshire, have made the\ndistrict a favourite _sanitarium_, while for the mere pleasure-seeker\nit presents a succession of delights, full of unalloyed beauty, unless\nindeed the weather should break down, and the unwary traveller is\ncaught in the rains and mists of winter, which may make the ascent of\nLoch-na-gar dangerous.\n\n\n\n\nTHE CAULDRON LINN.\n\n\nIt is not a little remarkable that the only conception of the Devon\nput on paper by Robert Burns was as a clear winding river, whose sweet\nstream 'meandering flows.' The fact was that Burns was led to know\nthat something was expected of him, and his muse was not to respond,\nfor she acted spontaneously or not at all. A woman did eventually\ninspire him to write--ah! those women, how much of Burns' best\nthoughts did they command!--and he referred to the romantic stream\nonly in order to tell that the 'bonniest flower' there had once been a\nsweet bud on the banks of his own beloved Ayr. The river Devon has a\nshort and chequered existence, and after a course of thirty-four\nmiles, falls into the Forth within five miles of its source. At that\nlittle bit of its journey when, after rising in Stirlingshire, it\nflows through Perthshire into Kinrosshire, and then doubles back\nacross a peninsular bit of Perthshire to reach the county of\nClackmannan, the stream goes through a series of vicissitudes that\ncompletely destroy its 'clear-winding' character. First there is the\ndeep chasm across which the Rumbling Bridge is thrown. There are here\ntwo bridges, one over the other. The earlier bridge, built in 1713,\neighty feet above the stream, is narrow and without a parapet, and\nthere is a local tradition of a man who fell asleep in his cart being\ntaken home safely over this exalted and narrow pathway by the instinct\nof his horse. The present bridge, a plain but strong erection, was\nbuilt in 1816, and is one hundred and twenty feet above the stream,\nthe latter hidden far below amidst inaccessible precipices and\ndarkening woods. Further up the stream is the 'Devil's Mill,' said to\nbe a waterfall, but so completely inaccessible, that the character of\nthe place is very much a matter of conjecture. However, there is\nheard far down in the depths below the clack and beat of a mill; and\nas this goes on Sabbath and Saturday alike, the name quoted above has\nbeen bestowed on the unhallowed mill. It is understood that the water\nfalls into a basin or chasm without outlet, carrying air with it, then\nthe air bursts out with the boom that resembles the regulated beat of\na mill. Be the cause what it may, the delusion is perfect.\n\nPursuing its way for a mile through a deeply cleft and gnarled valley,\nthe Devon flings itself in desperation over the Cauldron Linn. There\nare two points of view for this singular waterfall, one from above\nlooking down, the other, shown in our view, from below, looking up.\nFrom above, at the level where the trees are seen, the water leaps\ninto the cauldrons that give the Linn its name. In the hard basaltic\nrock the swirling water has worn out three circular vats or cauldrons,\nin which the stream incessantly goes round. The surplus water plunges\nover the edge of one cauldron to that below, or, as in one instance,\nhas worn a hole in the side of the pot, and rushes through that. It is\nsaid that when a sheep's carcase is brought down, and the river is not\nhigh, it will swirl round in the cauldrons till a spate comes strong\nenough to carry it over the edge. At the top the round lips of the\nupper cauldron nearly meet, so that a man of nerve could leap across.\nThe distance is probably not over a yard, but so dizzying is the\nincessant whirl of the water, that so far from leaping across, a timid\nvisitor may not even look over the edge, unless prone on the earth he\nputs his face over, conscious that six-sevenths of his body are safe\non _terra firma_!\n\nFrom below none of this terrible stir of the Cauldron Linn is seen--we\nhave merely a snowy sheet of water, beautiful certainly, and\nimpressive in its height, and encircled with lofty precipices, so\nthat, without reference to its characteristic features above, it takes\nrank as one of the most beautiful cataracts in Scotland. The view,\nwhich forms a vignette on our title-page, would in its natural place\ncome before or after Loch Leven.\n\n    B. FAWCETT, ENGRAVER AND PRINTER, DRIFFIELD.","title":"Scottish Loch Scenery","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":15211}