A DESCRIPTION, JJ-r. cVr. DESCRIPTION THE SCENERY DUNKELD BLAIR IN ATHOLL. LONDOK : PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR; AND SOLD B\* J. MAI.LETT, 5g, WARDOL'R STREET, SOHO ; AT PliUTH, BY CHARLES SIDEY ; AND AT DUNKELD. 1823. Jotcfifi Knhelt, Vrinicr, Xo. 51), >J.;rcA/ur Sir DESCRIPTION, $c. fyc. IT has been frequently asked by those whom a taste for the beauties of nature annually leads into the romantic recesses of the Highlands, why no one has undertaken to point out the various and delicious scenes of Dunkeld, when even the most worthless spots in England are all provided with their " Guides." The present book is in- tended to supply that defect. But its purpose is not confined to so narrow a limit ; as a part of its object is to point out, in a similar manner, the magnificent scenery of Blair in Atholl ; together with such spots as the traveller may visit between and around these two places, without the sacri- fice of much time or labour, 2 PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS. For want of such an assistant, it must always be the fate of a stranger, and particularly in a country so diversified and intricate, to remain ignorant of the far greater part of the beauties that lie within his reach. The artist, in par- ticular, as well as all those who are not content unless they can fix in their portfolios the memo- rials of their journeys, will frequently find that he has overlooked a scene of the greatest interest, when, under a proper direction, he would have enjoyed it merely by deviating a few yards from the ordinary line of road, or by quitting the beaten track to wander through those recesses where nature so often conceals her principal charms. If the scenery of Dunkeld is so open to inspec- tion that time alone is sufficient to view and en- joy it, the case is far otherwise with Blair ; where, without directions, the traveller, and even the experienced artist, may long wander without dis- covering the beauties that cause it, assuredly, to combine more of the magnificent and pictu- resque than any place in Scotland, or perhaps in Britain. As Dunkeld is the only rival to Blair, so is Blair the only place which can come into com- petition with Dunkeld. Differing, however, so PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS. 3 strongly as they do, in style and character, it is not for the author of these pages to draw a closer comparison between them ; nor will he attempt to assign the palm. Together, they are calcu- lated to please all : but different tastes will de- termine in favour of the one or the other, as they happen to prefer the luxuriance of endless wood and forest, the deep romantic valley, the abrupt- ness of hill and rock, and the sequestered soli- tudes of shady and twilight walks, embellished by all that wealth and taste can confer ; or the open sweeping wooded vale, the lofty mountains, the wild rivers and cascades, and the more numer- ous though less accessible scenes of grandeur or beauty, which must be sought to be seen, and studied to be fully enjoyed. That one noble- man should be the possessor of two seats which, united, no proprietor in Britain can rival, and with which, even separately, few indeed can enter into competition, might excite envy ; were it possible that such a feeling could enter the mind of any one to whom the liberality of the noble owner is known. To the public at large they are free, without restraint or limitation ; while it is one of his chief enjoyments that he can thus diffuse, among multitudes, a pleasure 4 PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS. probably as great as that which their beauties excite in himself. The friend and the stranger alike are received at a house ever open and ever full ; and at a table where the warm welcome of antient Highland hospitality is united to all the munificence and the minute attentions of refine- ment. DCJNKELD. DUNKELD. APPROACHES TO DUNKELD. As it is from Perth that nearly all visitors arrive at Dunkeld, the first scene which will attract their notice is the pass of Birnam, form- ing the gate to the Highlands in this quarter. Mr. Pennant's witticism, that Birnam wood has never recovered the march which its ancestors made to Dunsinane, is still true. Yet the con- trast which this wild and bare scenery affords to that which is shortly to follow, is perhaps, on the whole, advantageous. Nor is the scene itself uninteresting ; from the height and abruptness of the hills on each side, the huge, bare and broken faces of grey rock, and the depth of shadow which is thus thrown on this narrow and wild O Dl/XKELD. pass, contrasting with the noble river as it wan- ders deep below, through rich and overhanging trees, till, reaching the more open valley, it mean- ders among the rich and ornamental grounds of Murthly. The artist will find, in the latter spot, scenes not unfitted for his pencil. Those also who are interested in the fashion- able pursuit of mineralogy, will here find ob- jects well worthy their attention, in the junctions of the red sandstone, in the trap rocks, and in the slate ; in the inclined and reversed positions of the strata, in the quarries themselves, and in the minerals which they contain. The most re- markable of these are tremolite, brown spar, bright red felspar, chlorite, and oxidulous iron ; the chlorite being often crystallized, and the iron ore disposed in slender scaly ribbons, so as to form very beautiful specimens. Under the rocks on the left hand, the botanist will also find the rare Pteris crispa in great abundance. From this first point of the pass, the road pre- sents various beauties, which it is only necessary thus generally to mention ; and that, merely for the sake of those, who, intent on some distant ob- ject, are apt to pass unnoticed that which has not been indicated to them. But the first complete DUNKELD. 7 view of Dunkeld which is obtained, after descend- ing the hill, must be especially pointed out; be- cause it is to be enjoyed in perfection, only by quitting the road to take a more elevated position. This will be found on a rocky knoll of oak cop- pice, at the right hand, and behind Birnam inn. Hence, a view well adapted for a picture can be procured, with all the necessary accompaniments of a fore and middle ground ; the wooded and rocky hills which bound Dunkeld to the north, forming the back ground ; and the town with its cathedral, bridge, and river, buried among the dark shade of luxuriant trees, adding life and variety to the whole. The bridge is a singularly elegant structure, in which no expense has been spared to unite taste and magnificence with convenience. It was commenced in 1805, and opened in 1808; before which period there was no communication but by a ferry boat at Inver. This place, and the country in general, are indebted for it, princi- pally to the spirit and liberality of the Duke of Atholl. The total expense was ^42,000. Of this, the public advanced .5,500. The tolls granted towards the remainder are adequate to the interest of ^16,000 only ; so that his Grace's B4 DITNKELD. gratuitous advances amount to upwards of ^20,000. The length of this bridge is 685 feet, its breadth 27, and its greatest height from the foundation 54. There are five principal and two land arches ; the span of the central one being 90 feet, and the others, in succession, 85, 75, and 26. While the elegant form of the bridge of Dunkeld renders it, in itself, a subject for the pencil of the artist, it adds incalculably to the interest of the various scenes into which it enters. As an architectural object, it affords a bond of union to the scattered houses and the cathedral, and a contrast to the rich wooded scenery by which it is every where surrounded ; while in giving an eye and centre to so many pictures, its mellow breadth of grey light relieves the dark colour of the trees which skirt the banks of the river and cover the surrounding hills. But the traveller must not even pass the bridge, without pausing to admire a view which the artist will gladly transfer to his portfolio; although labouring under the defect of con- taining no foreground. In every thing else, the picture is as perfect as could be desired ; nor DUXKELD. 9 will the absence of foreground be remarked by any but him who feels the want of it to complete his drawing. The cathedral is here displayed in a very picturesque and favourable point of view ; foreshortened, and relieved by the deep dark green of the trees around it, and taking off the attention from that part of the town immediately under the eye, which is rather too conspicuously displayed. The grounds of Dunkeld park rise behind, overtopped by Craig-y-barns, in a man- ner the most varied and rich that can be im- agined ; while the extreme distance is constituted by the bold features of the long woody ridge of Craig Vinean, which, from whatever point of view, is always a principal object in this scenery. Perhaps, however, the chief beauty of this pic- ture consists in the river; which, grand and highly ornamented as it every where is, scarcely offers any point of view superior, if equal, to this. As it retires from the eye in a prolonged and varied perspective, silent, smooth, and dark, its source seems, lost in the deep woods and rocky recesses of the lofty hills by which it is overshadowed; while, on each hand, trees of endless variety, in colour, form, and disposition, skirt its margin, often feathering down into the B5 10 DUNKELD. dark water, and blending with their own reflec- tions so as to conceal its boundaries; unless where some line of silvery light, gleaming on an occasional ripple, or the rising of a fish, betrays, by a sparkle, the presence of the dark brown water gliding unsuspected under the oversha- dowing banks. It will fall to the lot of few travellers to arrive at Dunkeld by the Cupar road ; and I must therefore direct those to whom that entrance is unknown, to some points of view which give in- finitely the most perfect conception of the scenery of this place, and which, at the same time, afford by much the most complete pictures, in point of composition, variety, and effect, which can be obtained throughout the whole of this brilliant spot. The tourist would not grudge the time bestowed on this expedition, even were it far greater ; but two hours are more than sufficient for the whole. It is necessary to proceed on this road, as far as the slate quarries of New-tyle, a distance of about a mile and half: but those who have time, may extend their ride as far as Stenton and Dungarthil, which afford some good scenes for the pencil. The different views of Dunkeld DUNKELD. 11 will, however, only be discovered in returning ; as the spectator turns his back on them in going, so as seldom to be able to catch the precise points whence they are seen to the greatest advantage. The first of these views is found close to the farm house near the quarry; the foreground being constituted by some fine beech trees, and by the high wooded banks of the river, which runs deep below. There is something singular in the aspect of Dunkeld from this spot : the whole very much resembling a scene viewed through an inverted telescope. The next to be mentioned, is unquestionably the most perfect picture which Dunkeld presents ; whether we consider the complete geographical notion which it conveys of the form and distri- bution of the ground, or its composition and picturesque character. The best point of view is from the coppice ground just above Oakwood cottage, and on the left hand side of the road. The sweep of the river is here very noble, and is terminated by the bridge, which forms the centre of the picture, as well as its most con- spicuous object. The cathedral rising over it, with the grey town and the house of Dunkeld, adds breadth and value to that mass of scattered B 6 12 DCNKKLD. architecture which is the point of reference and unity for the whole of this splendid scene. Nothing can well be finer than the bold and varied line which the distance forms on the sky, nor richer than the mixture of dark wood and rock, broken into numerous recesses, and catching alternately strong lights and deep shadows, by which this barrier of hills is covered. Woods, single trees, hill, and meadow, disposed in the most varied, and contrasted in the most perfect manner, constitute a middle ground, in which the indented and highly ornamental margins of the river still hold the most conspicuous place. This principal picture becomes changed and ^ varied in many ways, in drawing nearer to the town ; each point furnishing a new subject to the artist, from the great alterations which take place in the middle and foregrounds ; although the distance remains little changed. These cannot fail to catch the eye from the very road ; but by entering the ground of Oakwood cottige, and taking the river banks for a foreground, two or three distinct pictures will be found, even in a more perfect style of composition than those obtained from the road itself. DUNKELD. 13 The spectator ought also to take a position on the hill towards the right hand, beyond the cottage just mentioned. The point of view lies in a very picturesque road, which ascends under the edge of a fir wood, and which offers good foregrounds. Here also a very beautiful view of Dunkeld is procured ; and if resembling that last described, it is yet sufficiently varied to pro- duce a distinct picture. Those who chuse to prolong their walk for half a mile, to the top of the hill, will also obtain a view of the valley and Lochs of the Lowes, which will well repay their trouble. In returning to the town, the walk may also be varied by following the antient highway ; passing by a beautifully situated farm, and de-- scending into Dunkeld over a somewhat incom- modious piece of hilly road. The view of the town and the surrounding ground, is however very fine from this point; and even though the traveller should not chuse to make the little expedition thus described, a quarter of an hour will be well occupied in walking from his inn to the point in question. 14 DUNKELD. GROUNDS OF DUNKELD RIVER WALKS. BEFOEE entering on these, the traveller should ascertain the time which he can allot to the objects of his pursuit. It is a common fault to desire impossibilities in this matter ; to expect to see by a glance of the eye, that which it would require many days to examine, and, in general, to lay plans for doing what no industry could ac- complish in so limited a time. It is in vain to hope to see this spot, in the manner in which it de- serves to be seen, in one day : while even that short space is rarely given to it. Two may be fully and profitably spent, even among the home scenes ; and those who are desirous of seeing them more perfectly, must allow three days. If the time is limited to a single forenoon, as is com- mon, the traveller must be content to take a single walk in the home grounds, and, possibly, DUNKELD. 15 another at the Hermitage ; but he will depart with very inadequate ideas of the place. If he can allow two, the best plan that he can adopt is to give up one to the Hermitage, the Rumbling bridge, and the various other scenes on the south and west side of the river; while the second will be even more fully occupied, in the home grounds, and in the nearer walks of Craig-y-barns. Those who chuse to extend their visit to three days, will not repent one spent in the more distant walks and rides; including the new plantations above Craig-y-barns, St. Columb's farm, and the Lochs of the Lowes. The Lodge and the Stables, built from the designs and under the superintendence of Elliot, will first attract the spectator's notice, and may be taken as specimens of the style of the intended house. The design for this is very handsome, as well as chaste ; to those at least who do not ob- ject to a slight mixture of the castellated and the ecclesiastical styles of Gothic architecture. ' The erection being for the present suspended, the want of a house commensurate, in extent and beauty, to the grounds and to the rank of the family, is naturally an object of remark to those who do not know that the present was erected as 16 DUNKELD. a mere temporary residence, subsidiary to Blair, and in the reign of Queen Ann ; long before the capacity of Dunkeld for improvement was either understood or valued. The present proprietor, in commencing, as every judicious improver should do, by rendering the domain what it ought to be, and by preparing his grounds to receive his house, thus forcing time into his service, and availing himself of that which never sleeps, has left nothing to desire but what a year or two may, at any time, render perfect. The grounds and the house were once mutually appropriate; but the -former, in advancing, have left the mere work of art behind. The remains of the anticnt style in thegrounds, have almost disappeared before the modern im- provements ; though traces of it are still occasion- ally visible in a few places which need scarcely be pointed out. Stanley hill, however, which im- mediately meets the spectator on entering, is a very conspicuous object; the incongruity of which would appear extraordinary to any one who should imagine that it was the work of the same hand which rendered Dunkeld what it now is. As a specimen of the taste of a former age, it is a curiosity, and has been an expensive one. DUNKELD. 17 Nor could it ever have been a very legitimate specimen of that taste which carried the forms of architecture into gardening, and which was often advantageously displayed ; although, from our running into the opposite extremes, it has long been the fashion to censure that style, and to deviate from it as widely as possible. Though the squared and sloped military aspect of this mound is not very engaging to the eye, its walks are well worth visiting ; as well for their seclusion, as for the prospects which they afford over some parts of the grounds. On the right hand, visitors are generally con- ducted through a curved walk, separated from the lawn, and backed by a high wall of shrub- bery, which is skirted by a flower border ; its length being nearly a quarter of a mile. Nothing could have been more admirably contrived for a winter walk ; being sheltered from all the pre- vailing winds, and exposed to the full influence of the mid-day sun. It would not be easy to find a lawn more favourably disposed and better proportioned, and from which all appearance of art is so completely banished. Every where, its boundary seems to have been dictated by nature, as if it could have been no otherwise disposed 18 DUNKELD. than it is ; nothing appearing, as in the usual lawning system of improvers, to point out the efforts by which this object is attained ; no naked walls rising from it, as if they had been brought from a distance and laid down on the turf: no hard line of wood, cutting out the shape of the green carpet and defining its edge, as a park wall might do with nearly as good an effect, nor any hard dry clumps, making nature wonder what they are doing, and wondering themselves " how they got there." As the unevenuess of the surface assists in conferring on this lawn that cha- racter of ease, which art may strive after in vain, so there are no two places in which itsboundary is similar ; while scattered trees of all kinds, dis- persed about it, add variety without confusion, and ornament without the appearance of design. Its prolonged and intricate form is a no less fa- vourable feature ; as there is no point whence it can all be comprehended in one view, nor scarcely any two from which its general aspect is the same. It is a rare thing to attain variety in this depart- ment of landscape gardening; and still more rare to obtain the appearance of so much space in a spot of such limited dimensions. The tra- veller must not omit examining the two noted DUNKELD. 19 larches near the cathedral, as being not only the first that were introduced into Britain, but the finest specimens which exist. These were planted in 1738, having first been treated as greenhouse plants, when introduced from the Tyrol, by Mr. Menzies, of Culdares. There is little difference between the two, the height of the highest being about 90 feet ; while the lateral spread of the branches is the same. At two feet from the ground, the circumference is 14 feet 6 inches ; and they are calculated to contain each about 300 cubic feet, or six loads of tim- ber. As they are still in perfect vigour, arid far from maturity, it may be expected that they will yet attain to far more considerable dimensions. The principal walk within the home grounds follows the course of the river for nearly two miles, when it falls in with a drive which holds the same course for about as much more ; issuing into the high road at St. Columbus Lodge. It is in the tra- veller's option to follow the whole, or any portion ; as there are many points whence he may return, by other paths of great variety : but those who have time will do well to investigate the whole. Commencing from the cathedral, this walk is accompanied by a shrubbery and flower border, 20 DUXKELD. overhung with trees of various character, till it terminates in an American garden, laid out with luxuriant specimens of rhododendron, kalmia, and other analogous plants and shrubs, and beautifully sheltered by surrounding trees ; other paths branching away from it. From this point it is resumed, under a diversity of character, till its termination ; various seats, alcoves, and grottos being placed at those points where the views are most interesting. The principal change of the general character occurs where the Tay makes a right angle, beneath the woods of Craig Vinean ; as far at least as regards the views : but, in itself, it varies at almost every hundred yards, so as to keep the attention al- ways alive. Where this walk commences, a broad parallel terrace of turf runs for some distance near to it, forming a bowery walk of deep green shade, where the sun is moderated by the dense foliage that overhangs it, and which seems de- signed for solitude and meditation. It is impos- sible for the imagination to conceive a scene of more undisturbed repose. Shorter walks of a similar character, called the Bishop's Walks, com- municatefrom it with the lawn,which,on this side, is further skirted by a similar green walk, lined DUNKELD. 21 by larch trees of fine growth, and joining also with the American garden. The views from this part comprise chiefly the close scenery which bounds the river itself; the more distant prospects being generally concealed, so as to add to the seclusion of the scene. On both sides, the margins are varied in every pos- sible manner ; sometimes rough and broken by the force of the stream, at others sloping down in green banks of endless forms ; often, for a long space, feathered over by overhanging shrubs and bushes, under which the river glides, dark, silent, and smooth ; while here and there some marks of a work of art, which necessity or the remains of the antient grounds have left, serve to add, by contrast, to the interest and beauty of the whole. An artificial cascade, remaining as a memorial of the taste of our ancestors, will only offend those who, by reading Price, and by talking of Kent, and Brown, and Repton, have persuaded themselves into a species of systematic orthodoxy in matters of picturesque beauty; without having formed any definite opinions of their own on the subject, and without knowing when rules are better departed from than fol- lowed : as if all beauty could be reduced to an 22 DUNKELD, invariable canon, and as if the resources of nature, and of art too, where it undertakes to modify the landscape, were not infinite. It is true enough, however, in this particular case, that the cascade has nothing to do with the landscape ; and it is precisely in consequence of this utter distinctness of character, that we may look at it without offence, as we might on any other work of mere art. Had it made even an approximation to the character of nature, then indeed it might have been a real blemish. To the pencil, this walk offers few objects. Nor is that defect at all inconsistent with the greatest beauties. There can be no greater error, though it is one into which artists frequently fall, than to imagine that there is nothing beautiful but the picturesque, nor any thing to be admired but that which may be rendered an object of admiration in a painting. On the contrary, it often happens that there are no two things more at variance than beauty in nature and picturesque beauty ; a fact which ought to be far too familiar to require illustration. Nevertheless, some points occur here, from which an artist may select at least two pictures of very distinct characters, and which will, at any rate, be dwelt on with admira- DUNKELD. 23 tion. Looking down the river, the bridge forms, from many different stations, a very beautiful object ; being distinctly projected on the dark wooded hill beyond, and its breadth of warm light being increased by the reflection of the tranquil stream. The church of Little Dunkeld, receiving a bright spot of light which acquires an increased value from the trees among which it is shrouded, adds much to the effect of the distance. Thus is formed the centre of a picture ; the sides of which are constituted by the river banks, over- hung by wood, and varied with trees of every cha- racter, while the immediate foreground changes at every step ; the general view itself under- going many variations, as more or less of the bridge is concealed by the trees which, on each side, close in on the banks, and from the gentle undulations of its margin. In looking up the Tay, the view is of a very distinct and of a much grander character. Different foregrounds may be procured for it from different points; and the best positions are at the opposite ends of the American gar- den, where the trees form admirable groups for that purpose. The bold sweep of Craig Vinean here rises, a lofty and solid mass against 24 DUNKELD. the sky, to form that which is, at once, dis- tance and middle ground : its rocky and un- even surface being disposed in varied forms, covered with rich wood of every character, and reaching down to the water, over the tranquil surface of which it throws a deep and broad shadow. The dark river, scarcely marked by a ripple, seems to rest in tranquil repose between its woody banks, giving to the scene a solemnity like that of the twilight; a single gleam of light at the extremity, separating it from the profound shade of the woods from which it ap- pears to derive its mysterious origin. In point of colouring, the richness of all this scenery is unexampled. There is a depth and solidity in the general tone of subdued green which forms the mass of colour, that is quite peculiar to this spot ; while a thousand local hues, infinitely diversified by demi-tints and reflections from the surrounding masses, and by the brown and purple atmospheric colouring of Highland scenery, vary, without interfering with, the breadth that gives repose and solem- nity to the whole. Thus form and colour both combine to give that air of grandeur so peculiar to this spot, and which is rendered even more DUNKELD. 25 perfect by the deep-brown waters of the Tay, so admirably harmonizing with the subdued tone of the -whole. Though all lights serve to display this river scenery, if with some varia- tion, yet always with beauty, it is perhaps never so striking as after sun-set, or near to that hour. When the last gleam of evening illuminates the bridge, it acquires additional interest from the repose which begins to steal on all the surround- / / ing colouring ; and when Craig Vinean, t>n the other hand, is under the shades of evening, the silence of that scene acquires an additional solemnity, which a poet might truly call sublime. The general character of this scenery does not undergo any material change for some time after turning the angle formed by the river ; the woods rising high on the opposite side, and the walk being still conducted by the water's edge, under the shadow of overhanging trees, and of the high mass of wood which extends up the hill of the King's seat. But the spectator must remark ;i very picturesque scene, the place of which is indicated by a rustic seat, and by a rude stair descending to a ferry boat ; since it forms a very good subject for the pencil. For some time after this, various pleasing views occur; the c DUNKELD. river still running under the deep shade of the impending hill, skirted by oak woods and over- hanging trees, till at last, the walk emerging into the drive formerly mentioned, a total change of character takes place. The general scenery now becomes more open ; and though the lofty and wooded screen of Craig Vinean still skirts the river for some space, and its banks are closed in by woods and detached trees, the distance opens in a fine vista to the blue ranges of the Highland mountains. That which was a narrow walk has now become an open green road, unconstrained by hedge or boundary ; the wooded hills of Craig-y-barns rising high on the right hanJ, and the river, on the left, working its way through all the varieties of close woods, open meadow, impending deep banks, and gravelled shores. Antient beeches, and elms of luxuriant growth, skirting the track, or disposed in accidental groups, serve to form foregrounds for innumerable pictures ; while they also diversify the walk, to which a deep ravine, here and there descending from the hill, and filled with shrubs and trees in picturesque confusion, adds fresh and frequent variety. It is the peculiar character of the grounds of DUNKELD. 27 Dunkeld, in most other places, to present little else but close and wooded scenery. Suddenly emerging here from the most magnificent and deepest scenes of this class, the contrast afforded by the open heath and the distant blue of the mountains, is the more striking. At the same time, the character of that distance is perfect ; the rich variety of the open valley of the Tay display- ing itself in a perspective series of diminishing woods and trees, till it is terminated by the elegant mountain outline, of which Ben Vrackie forms the most characteristic feature. Throughout the whole of this portion of the walk, the artist will find many river scenes adapted to the pencil, with a choice of foreground in perfect harmony with the whole, and with trees which, in them- selves, might form studies for his portfolio. As it would be endless to describe the whole of these, I must limit myself to one, which it is the more essential to point out, because the proper station for viewing it does not lie abso- lutely in the path. It is to guide the tourist to that which he would not of himself discover, that these pages were written. The proper station for this view is on some high green banks which overhang the river to c 2 28 DUNKELD. the left of the road, and a few hundred yards short of St. Columb's Lodge. By bringing a rustic birch summer house about two hundred yards to the north of the spectator's position, the true point of view will be easily found. The elegant outline of Ben Vrackie forms the middle of the blue distance ; and beyond, is seen, in fainter colours, the ridge of Ben-y-gloe. To the left, the plantations of Dalguise descend gently into the splendid valley of the Tay, wooded in gay and rich confusion ; in the middle of which the hill of Dunmore, crowned with dark firs, forms a very characteristic feature. As the bright meandering line of the river advances towards the eye, it becomes lost in the middle grounds among numerous wooded islands, dis- playing an intricate and dazzling mixture of trees and land and water ; till forcing its dark way on one side under an abrupt woody hill, and skirting on the other a fine expanse of green meadow, bordered by trees, it rolls its huge volume of waters beneath the lofty banks, which, high overhanging it, form the spectator's station. To the right, the foreground, rising far above the horizontal line, affords that mass of rich ornament so much valued by painters ; lofty DUNKELD. 29 and broken banks, crowned with noble beeches unfolding beyond each other in retiring succes- sion, while the road, which they have thus sepa- rated from the river, is seen at intervals in an intricate perspective above the eye, till it plunges among the ravines and woods of the overhanging mountain. It is rare, indeed, that the painter will find in nature a picture so perfect in all its parts ; whether we regard the contrast and variety of form which determines the compo- sition, the admirable balance and intricacy of colour which prevails, even from the extreme distance to the nearest foreground, or the facility with which the natural lights may be managed to produce brilliancy of effect. There is scarcely a line or an object which we could wish to remove or to alter. c3 30 DUNKELD. GROUNDS OF DUNKELD UPPER WALKS. THOSE who have followed the order already described, will here find a path which ascends the hill in an intricate and pleasing manner, and which will conduct them back by the upper grounds. Others, who may not have time to follow the river as far as it has been described, will be directed by various routes into the same paths, or they may proceed at once in this direc- tion, from the shrubbery whence this tour commenced. Continuing from the shrubbery walk, a path proceeds through woods of beech and oak along the skirts of the lawn, ramifying in different directions ; each of which is well worth following by those who have time. The beauty of these walks, apart from the views which they afford, is much enhanced by the profusion of hyacinths DUNKELD. 31 and primroses which cover the ground in spring, by the beautiful saxifrage, or London pride, which succeeds to these in summer, and by the raspberry bushes which render them, in succes- sion, a fruit, as they were before a flower, garden. The larch, the spruce, the silver fir, and other pines, intermixed with the oak, ash, elm, beech, chesnut, and other forest trees, serve to produce an endless variety ; to which thelaurustinus, the laurel, the lilac, laburnum, roses, spiroeas, and other flowering shrubs, scattered in careless profu- sion, add all that ornament which is rendered the more striking from not appearing to have been the result of art. Exotic plants are never so acceptable as~when they seem to be no longer strangers in our woods and fields. It is impossible to follow out the whole of these walks in description, and I shall therefore, in selecting a few spots, first point out the seat called the Hut in the wood. The view which it affords is as unexpected as it is striking in effect, from the depth at which the river seems to flow beneath the feet, seen over the summits of an oak forest, which almost seems to meet the opposing, though still distant, woods, that rise c 4 32 DUNKELD. in long succession up to the rocky brow of Craig Vinean. The green retired walk which lies above this, is of an entirely different character from any other in these grounds. Excluding all the river scenery, it either forms a mere forest walk, spacious, tranquil, and magnificent from its breadth and long unbroken sweep, or else, opening on one side, it affords a view over a beautiful range of undulating fields, termi- nated by the bold features of Craig-y-barns, and including a knoll of oak wood, which, in itself, offers a walk singularly sequestered and pleasing. In pursuing it, we may diverge across the high road, and to the outer grounds, or deferring that, as I shall now do, follow the upper walks by the King's seat. For a consi- derable space, this presents a narrow forest path, but of a different character from any of the preceding ; high and abrupt rocks, ornamented with ferns and wild shrubs, overhanging it in many places, as it ranges along the edge of the hill ; while, below, the wood sweeps down the deep descent to the lower grounds and to the river. DCNKELD. 33 A narrow romantic path, branching from it, leads up through the King's pass, and thus into the high road; from which, a wider one will be found conducting to the summit of the romantic wooded knoll called the King's seat Here it is reported that one of our early kings, William the Lion, or some other of the worthies who figure at Holy-rood house, used to take his station for shooting the deer ; whence these names, as well as that of the King's ford, applied to a shallow part of the Tay, near to the angle which it makes under Craig Vinean. The station on the King's seat is well selected for a view, as extensive as it is rich, without being strictly picturesque; but unless the intruding branches of the trees shall be lopped before this book falls into the traveller's hands, he will scarcely succeed in forming an adequate conception of it. Redescending from this station, the walk at length emerges from confinement, and, perform- ing various traverses, each of which offers some novelty, it descends to the water, where this description formerly conducted the tourist, by two distinct routes. At many points, the river, now running distant and deep below the long sweep of woods, affords striking points of view ; c 5 34- DUNKELD. the dark green mass of Craig Vinean rising in proportion to the spectator's elevation, and the endless successions of trees, varying in character as in dimensions while they retire from the eye, taking off that solidity and sameness of effect which continuous wood is so apt to produce. The upper walks introduce the spectator again to the distant hills and the vale of the Tay, seen under a different character. This view, however, being more perfect where the high road first quits the King's pass, it will be better noticed hereafter. I need only add, that different seats, placed at the proper points of view, will guide the spectator to such spots as could not easily be indicated in description, and for which, indeed, it is not possible to afford space. * Jc*Ax4,; A-ti'Sy && ff S *- > - ' DUNKELD. 35 THE CATHEDRAL. THE tourist will not take leave of the home grounds of Dunkeld without visiting the Cathe- dral ; not only because it forms a very interest- ing addition to them, but because of its own intrinsic beauty, and the claims to notice which it derives from antiquity. Embosomed in dark fir trees of very fine forms on one side, and, on the other, placed in a flower garden of exquisite disposition, it offers some highly picturesque subjects for the pencil, independently of its mere architectural details, which, in some parts, are, in themselves, considerably ornamental, and well deserving of the artists attention. Not long ago tending fast to ruin, it has been repaired and strengthened in a most judicious manner, without the slightest interference with that which remained, and on a principle well c6 36 DUNKELD. deserving of imitation. Where the millions or other ornamental parts were in danger, they have been fastened by iron cramps; and wherever any fresh masonry was required for security, it has been so managed that the eye does not dis- cover the repairs. Thus this building may yet stand for ages the memorial of a period when Scotland vied with its wealthier neighbour, as far as its limited means permitted, in dedicating no small portion of its resources to the splendour as well as to the support of Religion. While we lament the fanaticism which levelled so many of our sacred structures with the ground, we must not forget to record the liberality which, though late, has at length interfered to prevent the utter demolition of these testimonies of the piety of our ancestors. Nor would it be just to pass over the noble individual to whom Scotland and the arts are alike indebted for this attention, and whose name it must now be unnecessary to mention. With a liberality akin to that to which the country owes the bridge of Dunkeld, he undertook also to convert the ruinous choir into a church for the service of this parish. In effecting this, in a manner as durable as it is ornamental, the ex- DUNKELD. 37 terior of the building has, in this part, been restored, with some slight variations, to its original state ; while the country has been pro- vided with a church which helps to remove the discredit so often and so justly attached to these structures in Scotland. Thus the repairs of a part and the restoration of the rest, have gone hand in hand ; and every thing has been done which ought or could have been done to protect and preserve the whole, short of that entire restoration which was obviously impossible. It is due to the liberality of government, to remem- ber, that the Exchequer advanced 1000 towards these repairs ; and still more so to that of the Duke of Atholl, to say that his expense amounted to dPSOOO. It appears that Dunkeld was originally the seat of one of those establishments derived from St. Columba, which have been called monas- teries of Culdees ; and it is also related that the bones of that Saint were transported hither from lona, by Kenneth M'Alpin. The early history however, like every thing else in Scottish anti- quities, is both traditional and obscure. Accord- ing to Milne, Constantine, King of the Picts, 38 DUNKELD. founded this, or some other religious establish- ment, in 729, and David the First converted it into an episcopal see in 1 127, by creating Gregory the First, who was then Abbot of Dunkeld, a bishop. Gregory died in 1169. These bishops appear also to have been, at one time, the Pri- mates of Scotland ; but as other traditions make Cormac the bishop in the time of Alexander the First, there is some obscurity here which it would be in vain to try to disentangle. What- ever the case may be, the succession of bishops on record after Gregory the First, or Cormac, is as follows: Gregory the second, Walter Bedun, John Scot, Richard de Prebenda, John of Leicester, Hugo de Sigillo, Matthew Scot, Gilbert, Galfred Liverance, Richard, David. Richard Inverkeithing, Robert d'Estoteville, Matthew de Crambeth, William Sinclair (the fighting bishop), Walter, Duncan, John, Michael Monymusk, John Peebles, Robert de Cairney, Donald Mac Naughton, James Kennedy, Alex- ander Lauder, James Bruce, William Turnbull, John Raulston, Thomas Lauder, James Le- vingston, Alexander Inglis, Robert, George Brown, Andrew Stuart, Gavin Douglas, cele- DUNKELD. 39 brated in Scottish literature, George Crichton, John Hamilton, and Robert Crichton ; this last bishop ending in 1550. What the nature of the early or original build- ing was, is unknown, and cannot be conjectured ; but the records of the present have been preserved. The ehoir seems to have been the original church, and was built by Bishop Sinclair, in 1330. The great aisle was added by Robert de Cairney, the 1 8th bishop, and his successors ; having been begun by him, and finished only under John Raulston, about the year 1450. In 1469, it appears that Thomas Lauder built the chapter- house ; commencing also the tower, which was completed by Bishop Brown in 1501. There are also marks of alterations about the building, particularly in the addition of a gateway at the western end, of which there is no record. That which the superstition of idle and profligate monks and bishops, as their posterity think fit to term them, thus erected, the superior piety of their successors thought proper to destroy, as far as they easily could, in 1599 ; giving thus a lasting proof of that asperity of temper, to say no worse of it, and of that conceit, which, in yielding to the indulgence of its envious and 40 DUNKELD. vengeful passions, flattered itself that it was solely actuated by a spirit of religion and of rever- ence to the Deity. The monuments which this militant church had suffered to remain, were de- molished, with the little exception that exists, by another species of militant force which formed its garrison in 1698. With some exceptions, yet not greater than are found in many of the ecclesiastical structures of England, there is much more uniformity of style in the architecture of Dunkeld cathedral, than was usual in the works of this class erected in Scotland. Still, it is evidently compounded : being borrowed, both from the Norman archi- tecture which followed the conquest, and from more than one of the three properly Gothic pe- riods which succeeded to that : chiefly however from the second and the earlier part of the third, the last of which lies in the reign of Henry the seventh. The dates of the several erections cor- respond sufficiently to justify this derivation ; allowing for those ornamental parts which, it is notorious, have, in all similar cases, been re- placed at later periods than that of the original building. - It is also very apparent, that, throughout almost all the Scottish buildings, DUNKELD. 41 unity of style has not been preserved in the same manner as it has been in England. This is easily explained by recollecting, that, in the lat- ter country, the particular erections coincided in period with the introduction of each new style, of which they were the examples ; and that, as this became obsolete, the fashion itself ceased ; while in Scotland, where the dates of the erections were generally far later than the first and second, and often even posterior to the subsequent style, the architects, from ignorance or inattention, used indiscriminately whatever they had seen. The arts, in this part of the island, had not then made much progress; and want of adequate funds must also often have assisted in depriving these buildings of that accuracy of design and propriety of ornament which the more ample means of the English church furnished or per- mitted. To pass over that which now forms the church, the length of the remainder, or ruined portion, is 122 feet, and its breadth 62 ; that of the side aisles, on each hand, being twelve. The height of the walls to the spring of the main roof is about 40. The tower is placed at the north- west angle of the building, being about 90 feet 42 DUNKELD. high, on a base of 24 each side. The body seems to have been distinguished from the choir by a high Gothic open arch reaching nearly to the roof, which, being now built up, divides it from the church. Six round pillars of Norman design, with two half-columns of similar form on the terminal wall, separate the main aisle from the side ones ; their height, without the capital, being 10 feet, and the circumference 13|. The intervals terminate in sharp arches of the second style of Gothic, with fluted soffits ; the capitals consisting only of simple mouldings. Above each arch is a semicircular window without ornament, but di- vided into two acute parts, with a trefoil in the interval. The third stage is a smaller acute window, divided also into two parts, with trefoil heads, and with a quatrefoil in the interval. As there are seven arches, there are, of course, seven of both these kinds of windows in the length of the building. It should be added that the upper row is above the roof of the side-aisles, and that the semicircular ones communicate between these and the main aisle. In the exterior of the building, the great western window is the most remarkable object ; DUNKELD. 43 and, as far as can be conjectured from the re- maining fragments of mullions, it appears to have been formed upon a very florid pattern. It is surmounted by a headband crowned with a finial, of the shape of the contrasted arch, so as to form a sort of canopy ; while it is thrown out of the vertical line of the gable, apparently to make room for a small circular window with double spiral mullions ; causing a strange want of symmetry without any apparent object. This small window is, however, of a very handsome de- sign, and of perfect execution ; and the gable is terminated by a florid cross, which is still quite entire. The southern angle of the cathedral termi- nates here in an octangular tower, supported by a buttress, resembling a watch-tower, yet serving no apparent purpose in such a situation. The effect however is pleasing, as the propor- tions are elegant ; the summit terminating with- out a roof, in an enlarged kind of parapet, sup- ported on a rose-carved moulding, and perforated on each face by panelled quatrefoils. There is a staircase in this tower, communicating by an ambulatory through the wall and along the 44 DUNKELD. bottom of the great window, with the main tower. The window at the east end of the choir appears also to have been originally of a handsome de- sign ; and it has now been restored with straight mullions, in the style of Henry the seventh's age. The corbel table beneath the roof is still nearly entire, and there appear to have been pinnacles along it; while, if we may judge of the whole by the remains of one, compounded of tabernacle work, still to be seen at the west end, they must have been very ornamental. The principal door at the western extremity of the cathedral, which seems to have been an after- thought, or a more modern alteration, has a deeply fluted soffit standing en clustered columns, and is accompanied by a smaller one, both formed of sharp arches ; a circular headed one close to them, giving entrance into the tower. There is also a lateral door entering through a porch at the south side ; the remains of which, still displaying two crocketed pinnacles, bespeak considerable former ornament. Two niches, one on each side, appear to have contained statues ; which, as may be expected, must have been DITSKELD. 45 among the first objects to suffer from the spirit of reform. There is also a canopy, which seems to have belonged to some armorial bearing. The windows in the body of the church, which light the side aisles, are remarkable for their diversity of design, as they are for beauty ; presenting eight or ten distinct patterns, all formed on that plan in the division of the mul- Jions, which marked the middle period of the sharp architecture. Combinations of circles are the most frequent. The tower is a plain building with buttresses at the corners, and with three tiers of orna- mented windows, somewhat irregularly placed. It seems to have remained unfinished at the angles ; terminating in rude cones, in place, probably, of intended pinnacles; as it is sur- rounded by an ornamental parapet of perforated trefoils, standing on a corbel table. It is not known, at least, that such pinnacles ever existed, and that they had been demolished during the injuries which the building has undergone. The chapter house, on the north side, and attached to the body of the cathedral, is entire; con- taining, beneath, the vault of the family ; and, above, a room once used as the charter room. 46 DUNKELD. It is chiefly remarkable, outside, for the four tall lancet windows with trefoil heads by which it is lighted, and, within, for the remarkably perfect and prolonged echoes of the lower apart- ment. The notes of different chords, sounded in succession on any instrument, produce the most extraordinary harmonious effects, emulat- ing those of the Eolian harp. It is not un- worthy of notice, when on the subject of echoes, that there is one produced by the exterior of the house, which repeats the acute octave of some sounds without noticing the principal one. There was formerly to be seen within the antient choir, along the north wall, a very beau- tiful row of tabernacle work with trefoil heads ; but the internal reparations necessary for the .church have covered all but two or three, which remain as specimens of what the whole once was. All else that is further to be seen deserving of notice, consists of some antient tombs that have survived the general destruction. The most remarkable of these lies in the same place, now a vestibule to the church. It is a statue in armour, but not of very good workmanship, having a lion's head at the feet, and with the following inscription round the stone : " Hie DUNKELD. 47 jacet Alexander Senescalus, Filius Robert! Regis Scotorum et Elisabethe More, Dominus de Buchan et Badenocb, qui obiit A. D. 1394." This personage was the celebrated Alister More Mac an High ; the third son of Robert the second, a Cumin, and better known by the name of the Wolf of Badenoch. He seems to have been the most active, if not the most power- ful, of a powerful family, which once extended its rule as well as its possessions, not only through Badenoch and Buchan, but over Atholl, and far westward into Lochaber; holding there the lands which were afterwards granted to the Gordon on the downfal of this family, in consequence of their having sided against Bruce, together with others which seem to have fallen, in the usual manner, into the hands of Macdonalds, Macin- toshes, and Camerons. Had the Cumin pos- sessed wit or foreknowledge enough to have taken the same part as the Vicar of Bray, few families in Britain would now have competed with it in value of territory, and not one in ex- tent. This particular gentleman, the Wolf, ap- pears to have been a sort of Rob Roy in his day ; that is to say, in much the same manner as Charles the twelfth was when compared to Car- 48 DUNKELD. touche; as he probably robbed with armies, instead of with a few breechless Caterans. Like other great heroes, he seems to have had a con- siderable affection for church property ; thinking it no sin to levy on fat monks and lazy friars. His eulogists (for heroes always can command these) presume that he never entered a church but to levy contributions ; until, as the baser vulgar phrase it, he was carried there heels fore- most. If he now claims that Dunkeld shall " canopy his bones till doomsday," it is proba- ble that he obtained the privilege by disgorg- ing to Walter, or John, or Michael Moneymusk, some of the good things of which he had robbed their fraternity in the north. Requiescat in pace ! In the body of the church there is the tomb of a bishop; the statue, dressed in pontificalibus, lying in a recess of the wall, under a canopy adorned with crockets. By some, this is said to belong to Bishop Sinclair ; by others, to Bishop Cairney. The latter should be true ; because there is, or was, a separate tablet of grey marble inscribed to Sinclair. The arms of Bishop Lindsay are also to be seen. Of Gavin Douglas I need take no particular DUNKELD. 4-9 notice, as his name is far too celebrated to require it here. But Sinclair, who seems to have been alike fitted to command either in the church or in the army, deserves some other record than that which exists on his obscure monument. It was he who, with sixty men of his own, made a junction with five hundred belonging to Duncan Earl of Fife, and defeated a party of Edward the second's troops near Dunnybirsel ; displaying a spirit worthy of the Bruces and Wallaces of that proud aera of Scottish history. 50 DUNKELD. THE HERMITAGE, RUMBLING BRIDGE, &c. &c. IT is usual for visitors to proceed to the Her- mitage, after inspecting the home grounds ; in compliance with which, the whole of the scenery on the south west side of the Tay will now be pointed out. wherever that is necessary. To view it properly, it would require far more time than is ever allotted to it. In proceeding to the village of Inver for this purpose, the tourist must not pass unnoticed the banks of the Braan, and the beautiful wooded field lying between it and the Tay, which, in any place less profuse in beauty, would itself form an ornamental park of no small import- ance. It affords a fine view of the cathedral, and an evening walk round it will not disappoint the visitor ; particularly if, like Isaac Walton, DffNKELD. 51 he can meditate sweet thoughts with his angle or his fly in his hand. At a turn of the road immediately before descending to the bridge of the Braan, there is a beautiful scene, affording a most perfect com- position for a picture ; and which assuredly no one who carries a portfolio, in these days of universal accomplishment, will pass without a record. It requires but a moment, to lose, as to find, the right point of view; but the experienced need not be told, that their eye must ever be on the alert amid scenery of this class. The bridge, occupying the centre of the picture, and lying vertically below the highest rocky point of Craig Vinean, is a seaman's mark that cannot fail. An artist also will soon discover, that, from various points, the bridge itself, sur- rounded as it is by trees, and the beautifully wooded banks of this rapid river, will afford him some very pleasing and profitable occupation. It would be unpardonable not to diverge a few yards from the road at this place, for the purpose of obtaining by much the most exten- sive and magnificent view which Dunkeld any where affords, though scarcely reducible to the D2 52 DUNKELD. limits of a picture. The point in question will be found by ascending a piece of very steep hilly road at the left hand, for a few hundred yards, and has hitherto been unknown to visitors. The wooded masses of Craig-y-barns are here seen in a very advantageous manner ; towering high above all the surrounding objects, and with an outline more flowing and graceful than from any other point of view. Sweeping away to the eastward in an endless succession of woods, this range gradually blends with the more distant mountains, till these are lost in the blue distance ; its broad grey faces of broken rock towering high over the King's pass, and contrasting finely with the dark green of the trees that spring from every crevice, and with the solid masses of the same colour which sur- round them on all sides. Towards the eye, wood surmounting wood in endless variety of form and colour, descends to the Tay, varied by open and undulating ground, in which groups and scattered trees serve to unite the whole into one harmonious mass. The course of the Braan, the romantic village of Inver, and the bridge beneath the eye involved in dark and luxuriant ' DUKKELD. 53 foliage, form the middle ground of a scene scarcely any where to be equalled in splendour of ornament and grandeur of character. It will gratify those who have never traversed extensive woods, to prolong their expedition from this point, through the great fir plantations which cover the whole of this hill, and through which there are numerous and good roads. There is a silence in the uniformity of these in- terminable solitudes which is almost appalling, and which may remind us all of what we have read respecting the wide wildernessesof America; while we may enjoy the effect without sacrifice, without fear from savage bears or more savage men, and with the security of a feather bed at night, instead of a couch of sticks and stones under the canopy of night and heaven. The waterfall at the Hermitage is the great ob- ject of attraction to the people ; as waterfalls, like caves, ever have been, and ever will be, to those who admire only what is marvellous or surprising, and whose taste for real beauty in nature is yet to be formed : a class including nine-tenths of those who visit this place, or any place, seeking, too often in vain, for that which, like happiness, must have its seat, at least, laid in the mind. D3 54 DUNKELD. However, the fall of the Braan is something better than mere smoke, and noise, and foam, and confusion. There is enough of these, for- tunately, to gratify those who see no further into a waterfall than its height and its breadth, its rumbling and its rainbows ; and there is abund- ance besides, of all that renders such an object really interesting; a picturesque disposition of the water as to the forms ; rocks of decided cha- racter, appropriate colour, and breadth of mass ; solidity, as well in the light and shadow as in the colouring; and all the adventitious orna- ment of deep wood, scattered shrubs, and bold trees ; without which, the finest cascade is but an insipid object after the first wonder has sub- sided. Too much praise cannot be given to the taste which threw over this dark and deep chasm, the highly picturesque bridge, with its unexpected and effective gateway, that crosses the river, which, after quitting the fall, runs black and silent below. This is the object which unites the whole into a picture, even far more per- fectly than the cascade ; and, by a due use of it, the artist will find at least three subjects for his pencil, which he will have cause to regret if DUNKELD. 55 he does not carry away, instead of wasting his labour on that which, though drawn an hundred times, never did, and never can, make a fit sub- ject for painting. How often the whole scene has been disgraced by the publication of the most contemptible aquatintas, and by selecting the only object that ought to have been omitted, need not be told. As it is the fate of the Marlboroughs and the Nelsons to be executed on every sign-post in the kingdom, so it is the misfortune of the finest scenes, like the finest fruits, to attract those whose contact only serves to contaminate them. It is unnecessary to dwell on the beautifully sequestered walks of this charming spot, as they must be obvious to all eyes. The interior of the elegant room called Ossian's Hall, with its finely-executed arabesques, will also attract every one's attention. The propriety of placing such a building in such a place, is an eternal subject of discussion to visitors ; and often enough, as might be foreseen, of censure. The exterior is so little seen that it can give little offence, amid scenery of so grand and overwhelming a charac- ter ; and as to the interior, I know not what prevents an elegant room from being elegant 56 DUNKELD. every where, nor what advantages are gained by sitting down on a damp stone and under rotten leaves, among rheumatisms and ear-wigs, when we may enjoy the comforts of light and air, of painting and architecture, and commodious furniture, in addition to cheerful society, and to that which even the admirer of a damp her- mitage does not despise a good dinner. The reader must not, however, imagine, that this building is the Hermitage, or that twenty mirrors were placed for the purpose of reflecting a matted beard and a dingy cassock. A hermi- tage of this fashion would be like the solitude which some one must partake, that we may be able to say, How charming is solitude ! The true Hermitage is situated a little further on, and is quite comfortless enough to satisfy the warmest ambition on this subject. The young and gay indeed, crowding into it from the heat of a noon- day sun, may exclaim What a charming and cool retreat ! how delicious is solitude ! how de- lightful to be a hermit, and to pass a life of con- templation in listening to the waterfall ! It happens to many travellers in Scotland to visit what is called the Cauldron Linn, on the Devon : they may see similar cauldrons here. DUKKELD. 57 and in a situation which, to those who deal in geological pursuits, is still more interesting. They are situated just in front of the door of Ossian's Hall ; and it is very plain that they are excavations which have been formed by the cas- cade, when the river ran in a very different place from what it does now. It is easy to see how far backwards it has corroded the rocks since that period ; but it is not so easy to determine at what height it must have then fallen from above. Whatever that has been, it must have been considerable ; and it will afford an amus- ing reflection to a geologist, to consider what the state of this valley was at such a period, and to compute the vast mass of matter which must have been carried forward along its whole bed, to the Tay, and ultimately to the sea. To the contributions of the Braan, among many other streams, is Scotland indebted for its Carse of Gowrie. The Rumbling Bridge, thrown across the Braan about a mile from this place, higher .up the stream, forms another object to which visitors are very properly directed. The cha- racter of the river is here far different, as it runs entirely in a narrow and very deep chasm, D5 58 DTTNKELD. and with, comparatively, little accompaniment from the surrounding scenery. The fall which the water makes just above the bridge is strik- ing, from the depth of the chasm chiefly, though its own form is good ; and a huge fragment of rock, which has so fallen into the fissure as to have produced a natural bridge across it, adds much to the interest of this little scene. It is on the other side of the bridge, however, or downwards, ac- cording to the stream, that the most picturesque view is obtained, simply by quitting the road for a few yards. Here, the arch is seen in a very favourable position, thrown across this chasm ; which at this place also is beautifully ornamented by trees starting from the crevices of the rocks, and forming altogether a most happy combination for a picture. There is nothing to induce the traveller to proceed further up Strath Braan, unless this should happen to be his road. But he must now be conducted, since this book has undertaken to be his guide, through the remainder of the scenery on this side of the Tay ; whether or not he may find time or inclination to realize, in act, that of which he can here only read. Many walks, mutually communicating, are DUNKELD. 59 cut along the woody face of Craig Vinean; all of them giving very fine and commanding views, both of the grounds of Dunkeld and of the dis- tant scenery to the northward. It is not, how- ever, necessary, for this purpose, to traverse them all. It is right that they should be there ; but two or three "hours of the visitor's time will put him into possession of as much of the cha- racter of the whole as can be necessary for his purpose. The principal points of view are marked by rustic seats, and therefore need not be further described ; and the general nature of the views which they yield, will be apprehended from the notice of one or two which will imme- diately be given. Of the more distant points, the Roebuck Seat, placed at the further extre- mity of these woods, demands more time than is easily allotted to this part of the grounds ; but the visitor should ascend, at least as high as the Spruce Walk. It is easily apprehended how the more elevated positions may represent the same scenes under different aspects, not only from differences in the perspective, but in the nature of the foregrounds ; but as far as the objects of an artist, and indeed of most spectators, are concerned, the best eleva- D 6 60 DUNKELD. tions are about the Jevel of the seat called the Craig Vinean Seat. This particular spot affords a view which may serve for a specimen of the general character of this scenery, and which indeed exhibits it in the greatest perfection as a picture, although a more perfect detail of the distance is obtained from the higher elevations. This distance consists in a portion of Strath Tay, terminated by the Highland mountains, as formerly seen from the lower grounds ; and the eye is gradually conducted to it by a retiring vista, formed, on one side, by the long sweep of the woods of Craig Vinean, and, on the other, by the bold ascent of Craig-y-barns. The high road, winding along, deep among the surround- ing woods, and skirted by fine oaks, serves further to conduct the eye through the picture, and to render more striking, by separating them, the balance of the opposite parts. The woods on the left, here offer a very unexpected and beautiful appearance to those who had before only contemplated their deep uniform mass from the home grounds. The air of solidity disap- pears ; and instead of it, a succession of swelling eminences, separated by deep dells of all forms, and intermixed with grey precipitous rocks, con- DUNKELD. 61 tinues to retire in a varied and broken per- spective; till, the spreading oak of the fore- ground being followed by others in all the variety of diminution, the far-protracted forest melts gradually into the almost invisible woods, that rise dim along the sides of the blue and distant mountains. Beneath the 'feet, oak, and birch, and iir, intermixed with swelling knolls of purple and brown heath and scars of grey rock, are thrown together in a confusion highly characteristic of this species of scenery ; the dark brown Tay, emerging from the rich oak-covered knoll of the Torw ood, stealing along deep and quiet beneath the elegant and wooded pyramid of Craig-y- barns. Every change of position here produces a fresh picture, to describe which would be as difficult an office as it is an unnecessary one. It is sufficient that the spectator has been directed generally to those points which will assist, in- stead of compelling, his taste ; and, by saving some part of hjs valuable time, aid his industry in making discoveries that will gratify him the more that he is not called on for an expected or enforced admiration. OS DUNKEL1). But I cannot allow him to quit these woods without carrying him, though at the risk of encountering a few brambles, to a point whence he can see nothing but the pyramid of Craig-y- barns, surrounded by and embosomed in other woods besides its own. There is a large oak, not far above the high road, which will serve as a sort of guide to the true point of view ; but thus far I must also dictate to him, that he is to descend till he entirely excludes the river. This is essential to the character of the view in ques- tion ; as the horizontal line which it forms across the picture entirely destroys the peculiar effect, by defining the otherwise immeasurable altitude of that extraordinary pyramid which constitutes the essence of the scene. There is j ust sufficient variety in the outline of Craig-y-barns, as seen from this point, to take off that dryness which a form purely mathematical might have given. A superficial eye may think that the dark mass of 1 wood which invests it, is too solid and uniform ; but that of the artist, expert in giving value to accidents and minute forms, will discover a beauty in the disposition of the trees about it, in the contrasts of the lines which define these woods, and in the occasional display of un- DUNKELD. 63 planted surface, grey rock, scattered trees, and deficiencies of filling up, that render its surface as ( exquisite in the details, both of form and colour, as its outline is graceful and great. As the trees of the middle ground rise in height, advancing in succession towards the eye, and mixed with bare heathy knolls, broken banks, green glades, and scattered masses of rock, they blend the distant hill with the immediate fore- ground ; the character of the whole being throughout as consistent as if the whole scene lay on the skirt of one woody and towering moun- tain. I need scarcely say that this subject pos- sesses a capacity for painting, as perfect, as the scene itself is uncommon and magnificent. The tourist will scarcely be repaid for his trouble by proceeding farther along the high road which here leads to Taymouth and the westward, should this not form a part of his plan. In that case, it will be worth his while to visit the waterfalls of Dalguise. But near the very point just discussed, the high road itself offers one view of great beauty and gran- deur, which he might easily overlook if his at- tention were not directed to it. It lies precisely where the road makes, at the same time, a sharp 64 DUNKELD. curve and a slight descent ; a high rock on the left, varied by scattered and overhanging trees, and ornamented with all the profusion of shrubs, and ferns, and wild flowers, forming the imme- diate foreground, and the peak of Craig Vinean rising high against the sky, with all its woods and rocks towering above each other, and retir- ing along the road in a various and intricate perspective. The right hand of the picture is easily completed, at more points than one, by some or other of the numerous and luxuriant trees which skirt the whole road, flinging their ancient branches in a thousand romantic forms across it. To dwell no longer on that which must be left, for want of space and words to do it justice, I must lastly conduct the visitor to the water- side, where he will find much that is worthy of his attention whether his object be only a transient pleasure, or that more permanent one which he may carry away in his sketch-book, to re-excite, in the dreary solitudes of dingy streets, the memory of the green woods, the dark rivers, the foaming torrents, and the blue misty moun- tains of happier days. He will find a path by which he will be con- DUNKELD. 65 ducted, first from the high road to the water- side, and afterwards back again by the margin of the water to Inver ; this being preferable to returning by the same way that he went to the Hermitage. The uppermost point on the river which he need visit, is known by a deep dark pool formed in the hollow of a rock above the house of the fisherman Mac Millan. Craig-y- barns here again forms a fine object, which also produces a very good picture. Not to detail, however, the various scenes which he may admire or sketch from this point to Inver, I shall only further mention those at the ferry near Mac Millan's house, with some that will be indicated by a large oak tree lower down the course of the water, remarkable for the brilliant whiteness of its trunk covered with lichens. The prying eye will find much more ; but to name every thing, would be to deprive the visitor of all the pleasures aris- ing from discovery, 66 DUNKELD. DISTANT WALKS AND SCENERY, INCLUDING CRAIG-Y-BARNS. THE third day, which I have allotted for those who do not travel for the sake of motion alone, and who are not satisfied merely with the names of places, may be occupied in the work here chalked out ; but there are certain near objects in this division, which may be seen even by those who think a day a sufficient sacrifice to this part of their tour. To these, I may recommend, as well indeed ' as to all who have a half hour hanging on their hands, to ascend at the back of the gardener's house into the new nursery, a track which also conducts to a beautifully retired American gar- den, lately rescued from the woods, and not having yet, of course, attained maturity. In ascending the path through the kitchen garden, DUNKELD. 67 there is a view along the high road, of a very sin- gular and romantic character ; which, with some slight alterations in the foreground, to exclude superfluous and intruding buildings, would form, an admirable picture. Passing from this, over a romantic bridge of rustic wood-work, that crosses a deep woody dell, so dark as nearly to exclude the light of noon day, the visitor may reach the spot, marked, like most others, by a seat, whence there is a most perfect view of the lawn of Dunkeld ; fur- nishing a better notion of its disposition and of the general bearing and form of all the home domain, than cau be procured Aom any other point. That however is but a small part of its merit; as it forms a picture equalled by few which the place affords, whether in the richness and gaiety of the ornamented grounds, or in the romantic and varied character of its splendid boundary. The right hand scene displays the wild woods and rocks of Craig-y-barns and Craig Vinean, under a character totally new ; the dark and picturesque hill of the King's seat rising between them, and indicating the place of the romantic pass which is to introduce the traveller into the innermost recesses of the OS DUNKELD. Highlands. A high wooded terrace, declining from it, descends to the lawn, covered with rich and varied trees, and bounding one of those wild walks which the visitor had traced in his former passage through the grounds. The grey irregu- lar buildings of the farm add much to the effects of this scene ; by giving, not only a subject of art, but an object of decided character for the eye to repose on ; and thus also, while it affords a point of departure for this side of the picture, furnishing a scale by which its magnitude can be duly appreciated. Beneath, nothing can well be more happy than the disposition and . group- ings of the trees which are scattered on the lawn; where, with scarcely an exception, nothing in- trudes to convey the slightest appearance of arti- fice, but where every thing seems to have been regulated by the same nature which rules over the rest of the scene. Though the house has, abstractedly, no claims to beauty, its effect is good ; but, of the cathedral, we are inclined to regret that more of it could not have been ex- A very beautiful walk over a wooded and rocky knoll, called Tor-y-buckle, gives occasion for the display of much more scenery connected DUNKELD. 69 with this ; shewing also the town and the bridge, in various positions and combinations. I dare not venture into these details; but must pass to that singular scene, Pol-na-gates, which the spectator may, if he pleases, visit equally from the high road, and which indeed he cannot help seeing as he proceeds to the northward. Those who know Switzerland, will be strongly re- minded of some of the small sequestered spots in that country, by the succession of fir and larch trees, intermingled with rocks, which here tower up to the sky ; overhanging the dark pool, and throwing a sober and subdued tone, even into the light of noon day. Here, there is no mark of art, if we except the houses ; and these even aid in setting off the natural carelessness with which the water and the trees are disposed. When the north wind blows keen and cold from the mountains, the spectator may here walk in a noon-day sun, amid all the warmth and quiet of perpetual summer since the trees are always green, and scarcely a breeze ever ruffles the glassy surface of this little lake. There are few places more adapted to that undisturbed solitude and quiet for which a romantic mind might long, and which a studious one might enjoy. Spacious enough 70 DUNKELD. to admit of all theomaraentsof an artificial garden, even art would here be compelled to adopt itself to the accidental forms of nature ; and in any other situation than this, where the profusion of natural beauties is too great to allow of atten- tion to all, this half-neglected place would be sufficient to form the delight and occupy the un- divided attention of the possessor. It has been a great misfortune to this spot, that the passage of the high road has infringed on its solitude and seclusion thus almost destroying its most essential character. It is not flattering to its beauties that it should be allotted to the resi- dence of game-keepers ; although the effect pro- duced by the houses is pleasing, rather than otherwise. If Pol-na-gates could find a poet to personify it, like Bruar water, it might address his Grace in the language of supplication, and petition to be restored to its original solitude ; by planting a thick fence of wood on the edge of the high road, and by raising it at least to the rank of an American garden ; to which it possesses peculiar claims, no less from its pic- turesque character than from its botanical ca- pacities. But Burns is no more, and it is not every poet who can hope to command such atten- DUNKELD. 71 tion. Poor prose, at any rate, never pretended to carry any weight in matters of this nature. The walks among the romantic woods that cover the hill which towers high above this se- cluded spot, commence here; proceeding in various directions through its wilderness of forest, till they emerge on the open summit, high above the surrounding objects. It is not for any guide to describe " each dingle, bush, and alley green" of these wild walks, among which a summer day may be spent without thinking it long. With that general similarity of feature which all forest walks must possess, there is in this spot, no " alley" which " has a brother." There is character every where; a character for the whole ; and some peculiarity, some impending rock, or marked tree, or open glade, or glimpse of the distant prospect, to dis- tinguish the individuals. Here, perhaps, the blue sky breaks struggling through the dark over- hanging branches, or the checquered sunshine brightens the vivid green of the wood sorrel and the saxifrage which carpet the ground with a dense mat of verdure. There, the entangling foliage of spruce, and oak, and fir, and chesnut, exclude the day, and produce a solemn gloom, disturbed 72 DUNKELD. only by the lively chirp of the squirrel as he springs from tree to tree ; or else a glimpse of the roebuck is seen as he bounds away into the recess of the forest, through the crackling of the bran- ches, and the fall of the dew drops which the sun has not yet reached. There is nothing which adds more to the charm of variety among these woods, or confers on them a character more their own, than the " musco circumlita saxa;" a feature only known to the mountain forest. But it is not only to the huge stone half covered with moss, where the bright green receives a double charm from the grey of the lichen, to the dark and varied browns of withered leaves, to the black obscurity of the fissure or cavity which it overhangs, and to the graceful feathering of the various ferns, that this scenery is indebted. Enormous masses of rock, detached from the summit in former ages, are strewed about, and among the trees, in every shape of rude and picturesque beauty ; their bases concealed in the soil by the primrose, the lily of the valley, and the wild plants of all kinds that resort to their shade and moisture, and their crevices giving root to the rose, the honeysuckle, and the birch; while violets and strawberries, occupying the cover- DUNKELD. 73 ing of moss and soil which time has produced on their summits, and intermixed with the tower- ing plumes of the fern, send their trailing shoots down along the grey mottled faces. Often, they are found piled on each other in masses of ruin ; even then, perhaps, rendered more pic- turesque by the black caverns which their inter- stices have formed, and by the deep tone of colour which thus relieves the subdued tints of grey and green, never illuminated but by the reflected light of the surrounding objects. To pass over many single spots that might be particularized, an extensive and beautiful view of Dunkeld, and of the distant country, even as far as Fife, is obtained from a walk that conducts to a grotto ; and a moss-covered rock which marks the point of view, will also afford the spectator a seat where he may forget himself to sleep, while he indulges in reveries, and, viewing the bustle of a town without hearing its noise, dreams for a moment that he is elevated, as well beyond the cares of the world as beyond the world itself. He woefully forgets his office as a writer, whether of guide-books or of better tilings, who would strip his reader of one atom of the romantic T4 DUNKELD. imagination to which poetry, good fortune, and the circulating library have aided him. Let him not therefore insinuate that Boreas will ever blow, or Philomel grow dumb, or nights cold ; that he who delights in cooling his " fervid blood' 1 in this grotto, after a laborious walk, or plunges amidst its refreshing damps and its drops trickling from the roof, to avoid the Dog- star's raging heat, will soon be very glad to warm his frozen fingers at a better fire than one of damp leaves, to drink of other drinks than a chilled cascade, and eat of other diet than that of the squirrel. It is for him, on the contrary, to recommend the " hairy gown and mossy cell," night watches " out-watching the bear," with nuts from the wood, water from the spring, and a!l other things befitting. The reader may imagine the rest ; and if he should perchance be smitten with the divine love of holy solitude, companion of the wise and good, the Duke of Atholl, (as we, the Authors of this Guide, are credibly informed) will per- mit him to occupy this hermitage, with all such agues and rheumatisms as may be incidental to the possession. It is amusing enough, and it is also true, that there have been, in this sober- DUNKELD. 75 minded country of Britain, personages absurd enough to hire idle vagabonds to live in huts of this kind, unshaven and unwashed. To have cultivated a bear might have been excusable, if not appropriate; but such a caricature as a mock hermit, is at least a degree worse than a tin cascade or a pasteboard temple. Yet so preva- lent is the popular belief with respect to the existence of this kind of human menagerie, that a few years seldom pass without some fresh pro- posal to his Grace, to undertake the performance of this character, in an appropriate manner, and at due monthly wages. After all, however, hermitage apart, this grotto is a very romantic and beautiful spot ; executed in a most ingenious manner, out of the cavity of an overhanging rock, and without any one fantastical ornament or artificial contrivance to offend the eye of taste. It is impossible to conceive any thing more perfectly correct and appropriate, or more truly in unity with the wild and bold scenery by which it is surrounded. A cascade trickling down the hill forces its dark secluded way among the deep shadows of a rocky bed, overhung by a profusion of shrubs and wood-flowers, lulling with its sound*, and ft 2 76 DUNKELD. forming a cold bath near the entrance of the grotto. Ornamental trees, shrubs, and flowers, natives of the garden, but now long naturalized to the soil, and become joint inhabitants, with the fir and oak, of these wild woods, adorn and diversify the entrance ; while, above, the lofty precipice overhangs with all its trees dark rising against the sky, and occasional openings through the forest, as it sweeps down in a long descent to the base of the hill, admit various prospects of the distant and splendid landscape. In this direction, I shall not pretend to con- duct the tourist further than until, by means of the uppermost of the walks which here skirt the face of the hill, he can gain free access to the wide and open view which stretches away to the eastward. The extent and the magnificence of this landscape would be judged incapable of being exceeded, were it not for the more splendid and comprehensive views which the Highlands afford to the northward, after surmounting the whole hill. For this reason, the visitor should first take the present direction ; and, so doing, he will be highly gratified by the details, as well as by the whole of the map-like prospect which stretches beneath his feet. From the dark solid DUNKELD. 77 green of the fir forest, which, rising far above his station, extends from him on all sides, and which, beneath him, stretches away in a noble expanse till it unites with the woods of the plain far below, his eye is conducted to the rich, pro- longed, open valley with its chain of lakes, which, commencing near Dunkeld, is gradually lost eastward in the blue mists of Strathmore. Far beyond, are seen the long range of the Sidlaw, and the great and variegated plain of Stormount; while the cloud of overhanging smoke marks the place of Perth, and leads the eye to the Lomond hills and the elevated land of Fife, gradually fading into misty forms which rather dazzle and deceive, with imaginary shapes, than display the well-known outlines of romantic Edinburgh. A deep chasm in Craig-y-barns forms a natural pass, of which advantage has been taken, with the same judgment that has directed all these walks, to gain access to the summit. From the ease with which the traveller wanders about the whole of this wild mass of rude rock and ruder ground, over chasm and ravine, now on the summit of the precipice and now as if but just adhering to its face, threading his way among enormous piles of ruin, or walking, un- 3 78 DUNKELD. suspicious of what is under him, on the smooth gravel and turf which crosses them, he is apt ungratefully to forget, as well as to overlook, the dexterity and the resource with which this extensive work has been conducted. He will be unpardonable if he does not, thus ad- monished, examine this piece of rural engineer- ing ; and he will, in so doing, often have oc- casion to wonder at the boldness which couW thus dare even to imagine a road where scarcely a bird could have found footing; and, comparing small things with great, he may perhaps reflect that the same intellect and enterprise, had fate so ordained the opportunity, might have conducted the army of Hannibal or the works of the Sira- plon. It is but right to mention 9 while acci- dentally on this subject, that the extent of walks which the Duke of Atholl has carried through his grounds of Dunkeld, amounts to fifty miles, and those of the rides or drives to thirty. There are few proprietors who have striven equally, or with better success, to derive from their pos- sessions all the beauty and convenience which the capacity of their grounds allowed. The pass which has thus led me astray for a moment, will lead, the visitor to a pleasing and DUNKELD. 79 secluded scene, called Lios-na-craggan, the garden of the rock ; but he must not advance without opening his eyes to the romantic and abrupt ravine through which he is thus con- ducted. There is no part of this whole hill more deserving of admiration ; and it is, indeed, one of the few which is, at the same time, of such a character and form as to admit of being con- verted into a picture. There is an unusual breadth in the great face of rocky precipice by which it is bounded on one side ; and the colour- ing here balances and relieves, in a most perfect manner, the deep tone of the surrounding wood. Other rocks and other banks unite this larger mass to the rude and broken ground beneath and above: while trees, springing from every crevice and place " of vantage 1 ' where they can fix a root, and crowning every bank, and sum- mit, and rocky interstice, unite by a gentle gradation with the solid sweep of fir wood around, above, and beneath, so as to produce a scene of the most perfect harmony, as to charac- ter both of forms and of colouring. A rich distance, which includes the lakes already men- tioned, completes the picture. The whole is of E 4 80 DUNKELD. a character so purely Alpine, as to transport the imagination to the mountains of Switze r land and the Tyrol. An artist may possibly at first imagine, that no power of his art could combine a pure fir forest with landscape. But the first attempt will undeceive him ; and he will find, even in this succession of cones and pyramids, a variety in the grouping and in the forms, which, while it remains characteristic of this class of scenery, is, in every respect, picturesque and beautiful. Lios-na-craggan is one of those productions of art which, if it be a source of surprise to him who is wandering among these wild forests, is also a legitimate one, because it is judicious and consistent. A garden is not necessarily limited to the plain nor to the vicinity of the dwelling- house. This is a secluded and pleasing, as well as a romantic and an ornamented spot; and while the unwarned visitor unexpectedly finds exotic plants flourishing amid these rude woods and rocks, he may also be surprised to see that, at an elevation of eight hundred feet above the grounds below, they are flourishing with the greatest luxuriance. It is one of the rarer exer* lions in gardening, and one from which Dunkeld DUNKELD. 81 derives great praise, to have rendered so many foreign and ornamental plants denizens of the soil. Lios-na-craggan possesses a fountain which was long the Bandusia, if not the Hippocrene, of a gentle pair, ycleped Andrew and Janet Mac Raw, who, for twenty-one, long or short years, as it happened, enjoyed the delights of mutual love in a cottage, without a wish to descend from their misty sublimity of elevation to the regions of turmoil below. Woodwardens of the forest of Craig-y-barns, no children dis- turbed the repose of this gentle pair, unless some of the urchins of Dunkeld, perchance, in pursuing unripe, and never-to-be-ripened, nuts, infringed on their solitary reign. In summer, basking in the sun, whenever the sun chose to shine on Lios-na-craggan, and, in winter, shrouded, like Ossian's ghosts, in the mist of the hill, it was all Andrew's duty to plant his potatoes in spring and to dig them in autumn, while Janet milked her cow and spun her thread in due alternation, reckless alike of the world below and the clouds above. Thus rolled twenty and one suns round to Andrew and Janet Mac Raw, loving and beloved ; mutual peace 5 82 BUNKELD. prepared their pillow possibly ; but seasons re- volved ; with time came years ; and thus they lived, and thus they died. How they loved and how they lived, few cared, and, alas ! no one knows. Carebant vate sacro. Darby and John Anderson have fared better. I have seen their ruined walls, and the nettles that rose above the dismantled rafters ; long before rhododendrons had learnt to display their pur- ple blossoms, or moss roses and lilacs to waft their perfumes, to the rocks of Lios-na-craggan. Had I been a poet, I would have dropt a tear in the fountain, and a verse on the nettles, to the loves and memories of Andrew and Janet Mac Raw; but of what avail are the shambling records of prose ? I can lead the tourist but little further on foot ; and he who has suffered himself to be led thus far, may congratulate himself on his energy, as well as on his taste for the beautiful and the grand in scenery. It is a pleasure to write to such readers and walkers as these; but it is injudicious to acknowledge it. The unfortunate author signs his own condemnation, if, tame, and dull, and wearied, and spiritless, among those who count every step that carries them DUNKELD. 83 from the inn and the dinner, and every minute that calls on them to rise before ten, he does not gain in energy when, accompanied by the enthusiastic and the judicious spectator, he wanders, careless of dinner and despising lag- gard sleep, through the wild mazes of the dis- tant forest, or scales the rugged summit of the mountain. But having thus brought the confiding reader to the airy and open land, where all above is sky, and all beneath are woods, and rocks, and rivers, in gay confusion, little remains to be said ; and, for him, little to be done but to spend half a summer's day in enjoying the diversity of this splendid and luxuriant prospect. The main feature is the vale of the Tay, as it lies between Dunkeld and Logierait ; but this part, singly considered, is seen in a more picturesque and advantageous position, from the farm of St. Columb, which will hereafter be mentioned. Of the remainder, it is as impossible to speak adequately, as it would be fruitless to attempt it. As a mountain view, it is singularly happy ; because, while the position is not so high as to reduce every thing beneath to a diminished and uninteresting scale, it is sufficient to carry the 6 84 DUNKELD. eye across all the mountain ranges; commencing from the purple bloom that waves in the breeze at our feet, the rugged and grey rock, the dark bed of the torrent, and the brown heath, and proceeding over the fainter receding moorlands, the distant precipice, the long channel of the far-off descending stream, the obscure forest creeping dark up the hill side, and the airy succession of fading tints, to the last blue and doubtful mountain that melts away in the varied horizon. The walks here are numerous, and terminate in the rides which conduct to the farm and the more distant plantations. It is unnecessary to direct the spectator to these ; but there is an object here deserving his attention, whether contemplated merely as a natural curiosity, or as an example of a geological fact. If he be an antiquary, and especially if a sectator of Druidism, he will be even more gratified by explaining it on his favourite hypothesis. The object in question is a huge mass of stone, supported, at some distance from the flat sur- face of solid rock on which it stands, by means of three fragments. Thus it resembles, in some measure, a cromlech ; and those who chuse this DUNKELD. 85 system, may, if they please, conclude it to be a work of art, and a Druidical monument. To the writer and others, it seems merely the relic of a heap of fragments, from which Time, having first produced the whole, has carried away the smaller parts. It is thus one of the untransported blocks of geologists, produced in situ ; however remarkable for the singularity of its position, and for an imitation, (rude it must be admitted), of the real cromlech. DUNKELD. LOCHS OF THE LOWES, AND DISTANT RIDES. FEW are at the trouble of extending their investigations beyond the home grounds of Dunkeld and the Hermitage, and still fewer prolong them to the scenery which I am about to describe. Such it is, in other and graver cases than this, to follow " pecorum ritu, anteceden- tium gregem," or the tour books, it is all one : tour books copied from each other, from gene- ration to generation of booksellers, by the prin- ter's devil possibly, or by some one who is equally acquainted with the matter in hand. After so many moving adventures by flood and field, as have fallen to my share in this land of cakes and mountains, I am determined to write a tour book for myself, on some of these coming days. Motive-mongering is somewhat of an abstruse pursuit; and it is not much more easy to disco- DUNKELD. 87 ver the reasons of those who have no reason: but, setting aside these trifling difficulties, the gentlefolks who travel in search of the pictu- resque, or because other people travel, or for any other reason why, seem not to have much other concern than to see a certain list of places, nominally ; little heeding any thing but to fol- low the prescribed route, to record in the private journal, perchance in the sketch book, that this has been done, and to enter the names in due form at the porter's lodge. The judicious few, on the other hand, think it fully as good policy to visit, at the expence of half a day, half a dozen more places than the book of knowledge pre- scribes, as to go two or three hundred miles further, in pursuit of far inferior scenery. In making the journey of the valley, through which it is now purposed to lead the visitor, Dunkeld seems as completely left behind and forgotten as if it had never existed ; a totally new style of scenery occurring almost instan- taneously after surmounting the brow of the hill, combining the lakes, and rocky hills, and wild woods of the interior Highlands, with all the opulence of ornamental improvement and culti- vation. 88 DUNKELD. A walk, and not a very long one, will display one of the lakes at least, and some of the most remarkable scenes; but as the whole distance which requires to be visited, to do it justice, com- prises about sixteen miles, it is necessary to have recourse to the foreign aid of horse, or gig, or barouche. The same assistance is required to visit the distant plantations of Loch Ordie, and those which lie towards St. Columb'sfarm; while a busy day will suffice for both, and it remains at the option of the visitor to commence in either manner. The whole length of the valley, if Blairgowrie be taken as the boundary, is nearly twelve miles, but it is not perfectly defined in this direction. The breadth, generally speaking, ranges be- tween one and two ; but is occasionally such as to do little more than give passage to the river which drains off the waters from the whole. Of the five lakes which it contains, three lie near to Dunkeld, to which estate they belong; while those of Clunie and Marlie, further eastward, are separated from the former and from each other, by considerable spaces. It is unnecessary to go beyond Clunie ; as the Loch of Marlie is DUXKELD. 89 not picturesque, though the country surround- ing it is richly wooded and cultivated. The northern boundary is of a rugged and mountainous character; in reality, being the pro- per termination of the great mountain tract of the Highlands in this quarter. The southern con- sists of a lower range of hills, which, on the other side, decline into the plain of Stormount. On each side of the valley, the skirts of the hills are covered with woods and with scattered trees, in- termixed with cultivation, farm houses, and small villages ; two or three quarries of slate and lime stone, in different places, adding an air of activity to the general lively character of the whole tract. The open part of the valley is similarly rich in aspect ; being moreover diversified by the irre- gularity and the undulations of its surface, and by the masses of wood, which, independently of the scattered trees, surround the margins of the lakes. The Loch of the Lowes, covering an area of about two square miles, and that of Craiglush, much smaller, lie nearest to Dunkeld ; commu- nicating by a stream, the relic of a larger chan- nel by which they were once joined, after, by the process of filling up, the single lake became 9U DUNKELD. two. In different parts, the margins are wooded to the very water's edge ; affording several very pleasing walks and rides, of which one is parti- cularly conspicuous for a luxuriant screen of holly, of most unusual growth and beauty. As the ever-greens of the fir tribe generally form the remainder of the woods immediately at hand, the winter walk at noon may here be enjoyed till we almost forget that it is not still summer. My Lord Bacon's idea of a winter garden might here be easily perfected; so much, and on so great a scale, of that which is requisite for it, being already present On a smaller scale, Pol- na-gates, formerly mentioned, nearly realizes the same conception ; a species of improvement too much neglected in a climate where winter pos- sesses rather more than its proper share of the year. The western extremity of the Loch of the Lowes affords one of the most agreeable speci- mens of tranquil lake scenery that can be ima- gined ; and perfectly adapted, as lake scenery rarely is, for a painting. It may not possibly strike the eye much at a first glance ; but he who tries to reduce it to paper, will soon per- ceive its value. It is the general property of DUX HELD. 91 this class of scenery, to be very imposing in na- ture, and very meagre on the canvas ; and this is particularly true of the grander Highland lakes. There is always too much mountain ; which, however magnificent in the reality, pro- duces little more effect in painting, than the sky and the water which make up the remainder of the picture. There are few kinds of scenery, in- deed, which more disappoint an artist ; and few, I believe I may add, which more weary the mere spectator by their repetition. Here, the water fills no more space in the scene than may be ad- vantageously represented in painting ; while the middle ground which it occupies, is varied with woods and trees dispersed in all kinds of intri- cate groups ; its own irregular boundary being diversified by small bays and headlands. The back screen rises beyond this, in perfect harmony with the whole ; not like a thin blue cloud float- ing on the surface of a wide meagre expanse of water, but covered beneath by a range of intri- cate forest, which gradually blends with the middle ground, and terminates at length on the sky, by a rude mountain outline, of an uncom- mon as well as of a most graceful form. I shall not pretend to describe the various 92 DUNKKLD. pleasing scenes that may be found about the lake of Butterston, which lies next in order, nor in the different small valleys, and in all the creeks, and corners, and crannies, that exist in a tract of this nature. The experienced traveller or artist knows how to ferret out these coy beau- ties from their retreats ; and he who does not, will scarcely see them even when pointed out to him. Those visitors who, in these days of universal learning, choose to be interested in geology ^ will here find matter for study, and on a subject also in which the world at large has somewhat more concern than in gneiss, and graywacke, and other crabbe.d German tertns, This is the pro- cess by which nature contrives to get rid of lakes, and to substitute dry land in lieu of them ; " factas ex aequore terras" thus, in time, giv- ing us bread in place of fish. The day is creeping on when pike and perch shall here yield to corn and potatoes ; and when golden harvests, as the poets love to talk, shall wave where the finny tribes once cut their liquid way. It is easy to trace the original dimensions of these lakes, and to see that the lake of Craiglush and the Loch of the Lowes were once a single piece of water. The an. DUXKELD. 93 nual encroachment of the land is equally visible, as is the process by which it is generated. In the shoaling of the reedy margin, in the accumu- lation, first of gravel and then of plants, in the growth of peat, and lastly in the formation of turf, the whole of the stages may without diffi- culty be followed. Of a lake absolutely oblite- rated, and now a mere peat bog, a very perfect specimen, though on a small scale, occurs at the point where the road from Dunkeld first sepa- rates to ascend towards the hill plantations. The botanist will also find here some matter for his own especial amusement, as he will, gene- rally, about Dunkeld. This is the first place where the Lobelia dortmanna will occur, and it abounds along the margin of these lakes. In some or other of them he will also find the Litto- reila lacuslris ; as he will, at Pol-na-gates, the Isoctes, the Subularia, and the Scirpus acicula- ris. Poa aquatica abounds by the side of the Tay, even in Dunkeld grounds, as does Epil- obium angustifolium. The Den of Rechip is the native place of one of our rarest plants, the Convallaria verticillata; and all the ground about Craig-y-barns) is covered with Trientalis Europea, as profusely almost as by daisies elsewhere. 94 DUNKELD. Equally common is the Pyrola minor, emulating the lily of the valley in its perfume ; and, along the same hills also, abound the Satyrium hirci- num, Ophrys monorchis, and the Orchis bifolia and conopsea. The Ophrys ovata is less com- mon. The more ordinary alpine plants of lower elevations, such as the Arbutus uva ursi, the two Lycopodia, theVaccinium vitis idea, and many more, are too common to require mention. The splendid flowers of both the water lilies will also be found covering some of the smaller lakes; and, among the ferns, the Osmunda regalis oc- curs in the low woods about the valley under re- view; to which I must now return. The last lake here selected for notice, is that of Clunie. It differs completely in character from the preceding ones, being surrounded by hills of moderate elevation, and offering, there- fore, no Alpine features. But in its own cha- racter, it is very pleasing, and, from one or two points, not unfitted for a picture. The extent being inconsiderable, and the margin generally surrounded by ornamented grounds, the whole has somewhat the aspect of an artificial lake; if ever such a work could be so large, or so well disposed. That air of intended ornament and of DUN'KELD. 96 apparent artifice, is also increased by the small wooded island in the middle, bearing a house nearly as large as itself. This building was the antientjeat.of the Ogilvies, Lords Airly, and af- fords an earnest of the comfort and security of antient times and manners. Such modes of de- fence are not uncommon in the Highlands; but this specimen is one of the most perfect examples remaining, and is the more remarkable from being situated in what may be considered the low country. He who may be ambitious of a se- clusion not easily interrupted by morning visitors or midnight thieves, may chuse his residence here. No wheels of coach or barouche can shake his foundations, no nightly flambeaus will glitter on his ceilings, nor thundering footman rouse his echoes. Like the cobbler, he is free from the risk of duns at his gate : for, no bailiff, no ter- restrial one at least, could execute a warrant on him. The ornamented grounds of Forneth, occu- pying the north bank, form the principal feature of this lake ; and, certainly, he who projected Forneth, chose well, since he gains credit for possessing the whole. Equally pleasing is the situation of the Manse; nor indeed, if peace 96 DUNKELD. and comfort are to be found any where under the moon, and if these qualities in nature have any connection with them in the moral micro- cosm, would it be easy to find a place more promising of tranquillity and enjoyment, than the borders of this lake. Clunie has the credit of having given birth to one of those lucky wights, who, in this world, and not uncommonly, scramble up, no one knows how or why, into the temple of Fame. The garland seems to be distributed by this noisy gentlewoman pretty much, as the purse is by her blinking coadjutor in injustice. " Ille tulit laqueam, hie diadema" 'tis all one. Those antients, who have stolen so many of our good things from us, foresaw well when they gave her a trumpet; although the reduction of puffing to a system, was reserved for after ages. The gentlemen of the Mirror seem to have done for the admirable Crichton, as they think proper to call him, in compliance with some vague tra- ditions and tales, and without pay, what the Morning Post, and the Observer, and others of this creed, only do for an adequate conbideration. Yet the project answers; since Fame can thus be bought, not only in lease, but in perpetuity ; DTTNKELD. 97 and, indeed, I know not who can have a better right to any thing, than he who has paid down his money for it. As to this Crichton, he seems to have been the great humbug of his age, when this noble art was probably not quite so well un- derstood as it is now. Less than Cagliostro and greater, with not half his resource, but with more impudence and profligacy,he appears to have been the Katterfelto of the miserable trash which then went by the name of learning. Escaping the halter, ignorance and romance united, have clapped on his brazen brow, the diadem. But enough of him. Here, also, there is food for a geologist. The lime quarry is well worth his inspection, in more points of view than one ; but princi- pally as furnishing a fine example of the inter- ference of trap with the stratified rocks, and, particularly, of its influence on limestone. The most remarkable part of this is the production of steatite and of serpentine ; the former being modified from the limestone, as it would appear, and the latter from the trap. A collector of specimens may procure most splendid varieties of these substances; together with a singular and beautiful red agate which is imbedded in the cal- careous rock, as well as a mineral which, elsewhere, SJO DUNKELD. has only yet occurred in volcanic rocks ; namely, specular iron ore. But I cannot dwell on all the singularities of a spot, which presents more valuable instruction, than, perhaps, any of equal dimensions in Britain. The Duke of Atholl's plantations ought to be visited by all those who take an interest in the agricultural or rural oeconomy, not only of Scotland, but of Britain ; and that, with the eye of a planter, a proprietor, and an ceconomist. I must not suffer myself or my reader to ima- gine, that all the interest of travelling, or all that belongs to this place, is limited to picturesque beauty, great as these beauties here are. It is the former consideration which gives the chief value to those rides which conduct, in various directions, to Loch Ordie, and round these widely-planted hills, to St. Columb's farm ; al- though, at Lock Ordie itself, in the Lochs of Rottmell and Dowally, and at innumerable other points, he will be entertained by a variety of interesting and wild scenery; sometimes com- prising, under different aspects, many of the objects which he may have seen before. It is too generally known to require mention, that the Duke of Atholl has planted more than DPNKELD. 99 any British proprietor; the total amount ex- ceeding thirty millions of trees. The planta- tions of Dunkeld alone, amount to about eleven thousand English acres, and are still in progress. For a long period, larch formed the exclusive object, and it now exceeds any other species in extent ; but the Norway spruce has also been largely introduced, and with the promise of equal success. The earlier plantations con- sisted chiefly of Scotch fir, now judiciously abandoned ; besides which, very considerable numbers of the usual deciduous forest trees have been planted, wherever the soil and situa- tion were favourable. The ornament which these have already added to the country, is too obvious to be pointed out ; as it is that, in fact, which has converted scenes of no usual rude- ness, into what Dunkeld now is. What they are still to effect, will be evident to those who can look with a planter's foresight, to the infant and flourishing woods which cover these once bleak and barren hills. To have added such ornament, or rather, to have substituted beauty for deformity, is no small praise. But it is far more substantial and permanent merit, to have raised the value of a barren territory, in a degree r2 100 DUNKELD. which is nearly incalculable; thus adding to the permanent resources, .not only of heirs un- born, but of the empire itself. Nor must this praise be limited to that which may here be seen ; to the efforts of the noble improver alone ; since his example, early, as it has been perse- vering, and marked by activity and judgment alike, has, by stimulating others, diffused over many thousands of acres, and to many hundreds of individuals, the promise, as well as the pos- session, of similar advantages. Those who are interested in the details of this subject, will know that the present general cultivation of the larch, was the consequence of the examples before them. They will also be pleased to see that it is capable of growing, and that with luxuriance, at elevations here ap- proaching to a thousand feet, and amid rocks covered by a most scanty soil. In these respects, they may also observe that it is superior in value to the Scotch fir, as much as it exceeds that tree in the quality of its produce. It is further extremely important to note, that where planted on the roughest ground, previously covered with nearly useless plants and heath, it excludes and destroys them in a few years ; inducing a DtTNKELl). 101 green covering of herbage applicable to the pasturing of cattle, and not less than twenty times the value of the original surface. Were the price of the wood even nothing, the expense of planting would be more than repaid by these results. Of the spruce, they will also remark, that it thrives perfectly in those spots, common in all this country, where the moisture of the soil is unfavourable alike to fir and to larch ; so that, by means of these two valuable trees, the most rude lands can be entirely and advantageously occu- pied. In the woods of Craig Vinean and else- where, they may also see, that it is a property of the spruce to grow without check or stint of foliage, even in the deepest shade of other trees ; so that it may be advantageously used in filling up chasms, from the moment they occur, without waiting till the wood is opened to the light. I need only add, on this subject, that the value of both these woods, as grown on these lands, has been fairly put to the test, in ship-building, and in many other works ; the Atholl frigate, now at sea, having, among other smaller vessels, been constructed from them. I must now suppose that the visitor has ar- rived at St. Columbus farm, in his route ; and F3 DUNKELD. though he should not have chosen to follow that one which has here been pointed out, he cannot be excused from at least visiting this most exquisite point of view. By diverging half a mile from the high road, near the five-mile stone, it may be seen in continuing the tour towards Blair. The plan of this set of offices, of which there are other specimens in Scotland, is admirable, as combining utility, together with picturesque effect and chasteness of design ; the whole being obtained at no more expense than what is, com- monly, bestowed on the production of deformity. It is a wretched mistake in the dictatorial, and, too often, ignorant persons, who call them- selves improvers, the capability gardeners, who have thrust themselves everywhere, contami- nating the whole region with their vile offspring, to imagine that an useful object may not be a beautiful one, or that nothing good can be obtained but through what is useless or fan- tastic, Greek, Gothic, or Chinese. If it were possible to teach them that all beauty may be obtained by purity of form and propriety of colour but it is vain to try. Thus expense is accumulated on folly and folly on expense, in concealing that which it is indispensable to pop- DUNKELD. 103 sess ; offices are sunk under ground, and farms covered with trees ; or they are be-thatched and be-chimneyed and be-trellised into absolute gin- gerbread ; making nature hideous, and its fools the slaves of every one who can fill a quarto with fantastical aquatints. If the expense is to be incurred, and incurred it must be unless we are to do without tenants, or horses, or cooks, or ser- vants, it requires but little sense to render it subservient to use and ornament at the same time. Whether utility is the foundation of beauty, or not, is a question for the meta- physician; but assuredly it constitutes one of its parts, and may always be rendered accessary to it. A Greek temple has as little to do with British landscape as a pagoda or a sphinx : an obelisk and a mausoleum have no business in a Christian country, out of a church-yard. We do not want to be reminded of Jupiter and Juno, and still less of death. There are places, and there were times, in which these objects were appropriate: the times are past away, and Britain is not the place. The farm, and the stables, and the porter's lodge, and even the dog-kennel, are the temples of our landscape ; and he is but a bungling architect, who cannot F4 104 DUNKELD. render them subservient to its beauties as they are appropriate to its character : he has choice of colour and choice of form, and what more Can he desire. There is a vain terror about archi- tecture in landscape ; unless indeed the buildings should be magnificent or absurd ; as if the traces of man and his occupations did not constitute the basis of all its interest. It is the architecture too which forms the moral physiognomy of a country ; and, (not to enter further into this important view of the matter) it should harmonize with the natural; while, in departing from just views of this subject, we act as if we should dress up Hercules in a full-bottomed wig, or apply a portico and a few slices of pilaster to the pyramid of Cheops. The best station for viewing the magnificent landscape from which I have thus diverged, is on the terrace; but the artist who wishes to draw at his ease, free from sun, and wind, and rain, and flies, and gnats, and the ten thousand other nameless evils that ever beset him, may take his station in the dining room; with the luxury of a table and a chair, instead of his knee and a lump of damp, cold, sciatic turf. Stirling is indeed the jewel of Scotland ; but, excepting this, cer- DUNKELD. 105 tainly that country does not produce many land- scapes in this class of extended scenery, superior to the present in richness and splendour of orna- ment, and in grandeur of disposition and outline; while there are few which so easily admit of being- formed into a picture. The middle ground and the distance are, in this latter respect, unexcep- tionable ; nor will it require much contrivance to modify the foreground into a proper form, without infringing on that which ought never to be perverted the character. All lights show it to advantage; but perhaps the western one, throwing a shade on the long screen of mountain to the left, is to be preferred. While the eleva- tion is not so great as to produce that fault in landscape which arises from a bird's-eye pers- pective, it is sufficient to display the whole course of the Tumel and the Tay, from the mo- ment the former quits the narrow and wooded valley, here distinctly seen, that leads to Killi- crankie. The faint blue ridge of hills, where the graceful outline of Ben Vrackie rises pre-eminent, is well relieved by the darker wooded mass of mountain above Logierait, conducting the ima- gination, rather than the eye, up the western Vale of the Tay. As the river meanders, in all F 5 106 DUNKELD. the splendour of light, through the rich, various* and wooded plain, it increases in consequence, till, beneath our feet, it rolls along its broad mass of dark water, overhung by the trees of all cha- racter and foliage that skirt its banks, and here rise, from its hilly boundary, in one mass of varied green. To the left, the bold mountain ridge which backs Dalguise, displays a luxu- riance and variety of wood, intermixed with green swelling pastures and grey abrupt rocks, where an artist would not displace a line or era- dicate a tree; a tortuous stream, which appears to flow from it, struggling into day through the intense shadow of the trees that close above, till it falls into the Tay. On the right, all the intricacies of the high road are traced, as, passing the romantic village and church of Dowally, it holds its course on the margin of the plain, skirted by detached trees on one side, and, on the other, overtopped by the luxuriant green of the oak woods which rise, in variety of forms, along the sides of the hills. There are two ways of returning from St. Co- lumb's farm toDunkeld; but the upper one is preferable; not only on account of the peculiarly fine prospects which it affords, but because the DUNKELD. 107 low er one is the ordinary road, which must, at any rate, be travelled. I need not however dwell on these views ; as they cannot fail to at- tract the spectator** eye, since they face him as he descends the side of Craig-y-barns, amid rich woods, and under the shade of impending hill and rock: this road finally landing him at the King's pass. He who has seenDunkeld as it ought to be seen, and who has felt it as he ought to feel, will be less ready to quit it than the tourist who performs the task as an act of duty, and is impatient for the renewal of his locomotion; expecting, as usual, to find in the future what the present has not given. It is the former who is in danger of eating Lotus. But time cannot all be spent at Dunkeld; and it is necessary that, like John Bunyan, both he and I should gird up our loins for the journey to Blair. There is yet much to be done before the short summer of his holiday fades. F6 108 THE BLAIR KOAD. THE ROAD TO BLAIR MOULINEARN- FASCALLY. . THOUGH the pass of Birnam has brought the traveller into the Highlands, he has scarcely made his footing good till he has emerged from the King's pass. In approaching this, he cannot fail to be struck with the singularity as well as the romantic abruptness and beauty of its very first appearance, which are constituted by the landscape of Pol-na-gates already mentioned. If he is an artist, he will find an excellent subject for his pencil, from the very road; a single tree at its margin, brought into such a position as to cover the chasm, forming the mark for his station. As he enters the pass itself, the high rocks on each side, which overhang and darken it, will not less attract his attention than the huge frag- ments on the right, which cover the declivity THE BLAIR ROAD. 109 with a fearful mass of ruin ; the whole being wildly diversified by the trees which, though placed there by art, seem to have contended with nature to gain a footing among these inaccessible precipices. Inaccessible, however, they ought not to be, if fame says true, and tradition is to be trusted. Highland legends still show a fissure, once tenanted by a noted worthy of the olden time, called Duncan Hogg. At what period this Celtic Cacus flourished and robbed, the parish register says not; the records of these heroic ages not having been very accurately kept. It would be injuring Duncan, however, and deserving of a Highland clout, to say that he robbed: lifted, is the gentlemanlike term for those who never wanted beef while a lowlander had a cow, pro- vided they were strongest; for Duncan and his fraternity preferred the moon to the sun, and what is vulgarly and improperly called thieving, to honest violence. Whether Duncan Hogg de- voured his beef raw, as St. Jerom tells us his ancestors did each other, or how it was cooked, is unknown; but unless he pulled his plunder limb from limb, according to that heroic and unfortunately-lost method which is speedily and laudably to be revived, together with other lost 110 THE BLAIR ROAD. improvements, it is difficult to understand how he dragged the carcases of stots and stirks, and such like beasts, into a hole where a modern degenerate Celt can scarcely introduce his own. I must not here pass without notice, a geolo- gical fact in which the King's pass is implicated, because it concerns those who never heard of floetz trap and formations, quite as much as it does the gentlemen who have written books that no one reads and few understand, or as it does even Ephraim Jenkinson himself. If any one is inclined to ask what geology has to do with the picturesque arrangements of Dunkeld, let him wait with patience and he will soon see. Thus the arts and sciences all illustrate each other ; as has been well observed of La Fleur's acquire- ments in drum beating and spatterdash making. On the right-hand side, a good eye will see a part of the rock worn very smooth ; and though somewhat obscured by the piece of ill fortune which carried the road through it, there is no difficulty in discovering that it was once the place of a cascade formed by the Tay. The fact itself is analogous to that already pointed out at the Hermitage; and they mutually illustrate each other and the condition of this country in THE BlAIR ROAD. Ill ancient times. Further search in the walk under the King's seat, formerly mentioned, will discover a similar mark, indicating a second cascade ; and that, evidently formed after the river had shifted its bed laterally, and had also subsided to a lower level. A third place of the same nature will be found, by those who may be sufficiently inte- rested in this subject to examine it, in the rocks at a short distance beyond the slate quarries of New- tyle. Now, in a general view, the altitude of these above the present river, may be taken at an ave- rage of an hundred feet, as their levels are, of course, not all alike ; and thus the Tay once flowed at Dunkeld, at this elevation higher than it does at present. This conclusion, which is not in the least doubtful, even from this evidence, is confirmed by the more interesting appearances, which must have attracted every eye, though unaware of their nature and causes. A flat terrace may be observed rising above the town of Dunkeld, levelled as if by art, and consisting entirely of the rolled gravel and stones of a river. Similar terraces, on the west side of the river, though now in some places obscured by trees, may be 112 THE BLAIE ROAD- seen extending along its course ; and it will be found that these levels coincide on the opposite sides of the water. They also coincide in ele- vation with the levels of the antient cascades; and thus it is evident, that they have been, not only levelled but deposited, by the Tay, once flowing, at least as high as an hundred feet above its present bed. Having once been made aware of the existence and nature of these appearances, the observer will have no difficulty in tracing them all the way to Logierait, and even far beyond it ; so as to receive convincing proof that the whole valley has been excavated in the same manner. He will equally trace them through the pass of Birnam, and there see the extent of the opera- tions by which the Tay has deepened its own bed. The terraces which still exist, are the re- mains of a solid plain, or strath, through which the stream once wandered laterally, just as it wanders still ; and all that is wanting has tra- velled downwards to form the Carse of Gourie, as more will yet reach the same spot, to make Dundee hereafter what Perth now is ; convert- ing sea into land. Had Perth existed when the Tay ran high in the hills, and when the place of Dunkeld was deep buried in the earth, it would THE BLAIR ROAD. 113 have been what Dundee now is, a maritime town. It is plain that this is the true explanation of the appearances ; because, had they been pro- duced by the drainage of a lake, as has been imagined, no marks of the cascades at high levels could have existed. By these, the solid state of the land, up to that height at least, is esta- blished. To conceive what the condition, of this valley must have been at that remote period, it is easy to ascend one of the terraces, and, by placing the eye on its level, to unite it with the opposite one, and thus exclude the valley be- neath. To see towns, and fields, and woods, now flourishing where once all was solid land, ; to imagine future excavations of the same nature, and to reflect on the ten thousand facts, of simi- lar character, which the world everywhere pre- sents, convey to the mind a feeling of the lapse of time, and of.the mutability of things, greater than all the dates of history and chronology united. Well might the Welsh curate console himself for the laceration of his cassock, when such deeds as this are doing every day. Presuming, as is usually the case, that the visitor has yet seen nothing beyond the King's 114 THE BLAIR ROAD. pass, he will be much struck by the first im- pression which he receives on the opening of Strath Tay. To every one, indeed, it must be striking ; and even to those who have viewed it from the river side below, or from the hills above, it offers a very marked picture, from the depth of the woods that sweep down beneath, and from the huge obscure mass of Craig Vinean, uniting with them to overshadow the black waters of the Tay, which seem to vanish as if they had for ever sunk into the deep and dark recesses below. The road, which had for some time remained open, so as almost to have satiated the eyes with scenery too rich to bear long, closes about the fourth mile-stone. Here it is skirted by noble trees of beech and wych elm, which overhang and darken it, giving occasional glimpses into the distance ; innumerable wild flowers and shrubs, with the ever-ornamental ferns, spring- ing out of the grey rocks, so as to give it the character of the closest forest scenery. Deep Tavines, where the water seems to have given way to the infinitude of shrubs and trees which now occupy them, intersect it ; the bridges serv- ing to produce subjects among which the artist THE BLAIR, ROAD. 115 will easily contrive to find close scenery well adapted for his pencil. The traveller scarcely perceives that he has been for some time on the edge of a steep wooded declivity, till the trees, separating, show him the river rolling broad and deep below ; the road appearing to overhang it, but every step displaying new beauties as its banks vary, and as an occasional angle or a fresh tree opens or conceals the more distant landscape. To par- ticularize all that belongs to that landscape as it varies its features at almost every step from Dunkeld to Blair, would be equally useless and impossible. A few spots only can be noticed ; but, of the whole, it may with truth be said, that no road or space of equal length in Scot- land, or perhaps in Europe, assuredly not in Britain, presents its equal in prospects, whether we regard their beauty, or their variety, or their uninterrupted succession. There is scarcely a blank spot throughout the whole twenty miles ; and scarcely a few hundred yards that does not produce something new. A high degree of fer- tility, for the most part a dense population, cottages and houses in profusion, often indicating gomfort and ease, and very generally possessing 116 THE BLAIR EOAD. some kind of picturesque beauty, serve to re- move from this road that air of desertion and solitude which, throughout even the finest scenery of Scotland, in many parts, oppresses the mind with melancholy, in spite of all the beauty by which it is attended. The village of Dowally, like many other spots which I must in future pass without particular notice, will present many scenes for the pencil, to him who has that eye and that experience which enables the possessor at once to see what is and what is not matter of painting. Such scenery will be found in the combinations of trees and cottages, in bridges and brooks, in the ravines that carry a stream or bring a cascade from the hills above, in a mill, or a rock, or a pool, or a broken bank ; objects which, in all possible modes of variety and combination, will meet him at every turn ; will meet him, at least, whose eyes are open, not merely to catch flies, but to see, and seeing, to feel and understand. Of the distant landscape it need only be said, that it is exhi- bited under many distinct forms, as the fore- grounds vary ; and that he who desires to draw it will find no other difficulty than that of not THE BtAIR BOAD. 117 knowing when to cease. The sun will set on him unless he takes heed, and he will find him- self at Dowally when he ought to have been at Blair. The antiquary, at least, will open his eyes at Dowally on two erect stones, which, if he pleases, shall be Druidical. They are more probably monumental ; that is, monumental either of men or events ; of heroes, or battles, or covenants. It is very certain, that skeletons have sometimes been found beneath such stones ; it is equally certain that nothing is present on other occa- sions ; and traditional history, as well as the usages of analogous nations, assures us, that they once served the same purpose as parchment and lawyers do in these days of law and degeneracy. We need not trouble ourselves further about two stones at Dowally, as there are many weightier matters that we shall never solve. But, to have done with the Druids at once, there is a small circle in a field beyond Pitlochrie, visible enough from the roadside ; and that notice must here be taken in lieu of all further dissertation, on a subject which was never understood till a worthy man lately proved that Druids were fairies and 1 18 THE BLAIR OAD. fairies were Druids ; that they all alike wore Lin- coln green ; and that he ought to be believed. The extraordinary beauty of the birch trees which skirt this road in some places, will attract the attention of those who find more ser- mons in trees than in stones. Those who love to find out faults, blaming alike the Nature who made them, and the writer who has not been so kind as to point them out, shall be permitted to quarrel with the Tay for leaving sand banks to deform tfie road side ; as the German prince abused Nature for creating sand at all, and with somewhat more of reason. But he shall not have this licence unless he travels in August, and at some period before the year 1840. In June, the golden flowers of the " bonny broom,'' which then render these unfortunate banks one continued scene of beauty and delight, shall leave him no room for ill humour : and the Duke of Athoirs oaks, raising, even now, their little heads above the grass, shall rescue, at no very distant period, the fame of the whole, as they have long since clothed, with rich coppice, that tract which succeeds to Dowally. No one who values his reputation must pass THE BLAIft ROAD. 119 Moulinearn without drinking of Mrs. Penny- cuik's Athollbrose, even though his horses were willing to go forward without corn and water. It is not in the least of Mrs. Pennycuik's merits, to have hobnobbed in the nectar of the High- land Jove, with Mr. Sheridan. Poor Sheridan ! their noses were then of a colour ; and, alas ! the day cannot be far distant, when they will again be undistinguishable. Mrs. Pennycuik's, at least, shall not want a historian ; for it's fame shall be as imperishable as this book. My artist, however, has something more to do here than to paint his nose with this broth. Moulinearn is not only beautiful as an albergo, inasmuch as its exterior is festooned with honey- suckles and roses, and its interior with hams and sausages, and as the limpid streams of water without, are rivalled by the more limpid rills of whiskey within, but it is beautiful in place and position ; too beautiful for an inn. " Mihi est propositum in taberna mori," said the noted drunkard : other philosophers have proposed, on other considerations, to die in inns : but a wiser man would chuse to live at Moulinearn. Let the artist take his pencil in his hand, and he will carry away memorials that shall last 120 THE BLAIR ROAD. when the taste of Atholl brose has long faded from his palate, and the colour of Mrs. Penny- cuik's nose has become dim in his recollections. From this point, the scenery undergoes a com- plete change : all is new, yet all is beautiful. In quitting Moulinearn, \ve have left the junction of the Tay and the Tumel, and, with it, all that had attended us so long. The open vale is no more, and the Tumel is now our guide, to fresh scenes and coverts new. The closer valley has suc- ceeded to the wide strath ; yet every thing is still rich with trees and cultivation, and the river still, for a time, rolls a wide stream through meadows and corn fields, and amidst a busy and a thriving population. On each side, the hills ascend, rapidly, yet long covered with woods, and trees, and farms, and fields; till, rising beyond the controul of man, they stamp their rugged and rocky outlines on the sky. It is for the artist to watch for innumerable points whence he may press these scenes into his service ; yet if he adheres to the high road, as the ordinary traveller can scarce avoid, he will lose the better part of what he might obtain if, as the poet says, he wooed Nature in her coy retreats. Whatever may happen as to this, he who can THE BLAIR ROAD. 121 command, or borrow, or steal, an hour from time, will be unpardonable if he does not linger at Pitlochrie ; and he who can rob the day of two or three, will be still more so, if he does not di- verge to visit the unexpected and strangely placed village of Moulin, with all the other un- expected and strange places which, from Edra- dour up to the base of the hills, lie under the skirts of Ben Vrackie. He whose object is to sec what is to be seen, instead of to travel in search of what may never arrive, will manage his matters so that he shall say to himself, let Blair come when it may, I cannot be much better than well occupied. Much of this scenery is exceedingly picturesque in itself; from the combinations of houses, and villages, and trees, and mountains, and rocks, and mills, and torrents, which lie about in every direction. The cascade at Edra- dour, also, is much better worth visiting than many others which have had the honour, as the Royal Society said of the earthquake, to be noticed by my predecessors in book-making. In addition to all this, a very beautiful tract of highly cultivated ground will be seen where its existence could not previously have been sus- pected; together with views over the noble N G 122 THE BLAIE ROAD. valley from which the traveller has for some time heen parted, that exhibit it entirely in a new light, and certainly not in a less magnificent one than before. There are some specimens here of those an- cient round forts which it is the fashion to attri- bute to the Danes, not only in Scotland, but throughout Britain generally. The theory is a false one, notwithstanding; as they occur com- monly in the Highlands, far from the reach of the Danes at least, as well as in Cornwall, where that people certainly never penetrated. They are unquestionably British or Celtic works some- times; but it is equally probable that the invaders and the invaded did not differ much more re- specting the forms of buildings, which, for both, had the same object, and which scarcely admitted of more than one plan, than they did in their modes of opening and shutting their mouths. But an antiquary without an hypothesis would be a more uncommon animal than a griffin. However that may be, these forts are somewhat more remarkable here than elsewhere; because they seem to abound chiefly on a line which stretches westward into Glen Lyon ; indicating, probably, some ancient fact in the occupation or THE BLAIR ROAD. 123 military history of the inhabitants, of which we shall never know more, and on which, of course, there is room to write a great deal. After the road quits Pitlochrie, its character still continues to change : the valley becoming narrower, and the scenery more alpine. The distant hills form more important objects in the landscape, and the whole assumes a closer and ruder character; though the ruggedness of the mountain outline is always and beautifully con- trasted by the rich and varied forms of wood and cultivation that attend the course of the Tumel. On the right hand, the skirts of Ben Vrackie soon begin to impend over the road, rocky and wooded; till, at length, plunging among the woods which belong to Fascally, all external ob- jects are shut out, and the attention, which had almost become wearied by a continued succession of scenery so splendid, is relieved by a space of what, in effect, becomes a forest road. Emerging from this, the opener grounds of Fascally now come into view, wild, and strange, and romantic ; picturesque, in the common ac- ceptation of the term, yet rarely so disposed as to admit of being forced into a picture. The characters of the hills are extremely peculiar, as 124 THE BLAIR ROAD. well as ornamented and wild ; the outlines being unusually rugged and abrupt, yet never inelegant; and the faces being everywhere checquered and broken, even from the summit to the river below, by precipices and projecting rocks, interspersed with scattered trees or more continuous patches of wood. A chaotic, yet pleasing confusion, dis- similar to any thing elsewhere in Highland scenery, stamps the peculiar character on this place ; yet this is somewhat relieved, while it is advantageously contrasted, by the flat green meadows below, and by the richer and larger wood that skirts the course of the river and ornaments the lower grounds. It is sufficient to view this scenery from the road, as it gains no- thing by change of position. It will only produce disappointment, on the contrary, to descend to the house of Fascally ; which, inappropriate in itself, is so situated as to derive from the splendid and strange scenery by which it is sur- rounded, not the half of the effect which a more judicious arrangement might have commanded. Hence, the Tumel and the traveller must part; as the river now takes a sudden turn lo the westward, and the Garry, which here joins it, descending from the north, becomes his future THE BLAIR ROAD. 125 companion to Blair. But the Tumel must not thus be left unnoticed and unhonoured; since Scotland produces little to be compared with what a few miles of its course here presents. This scenery is however too extensive and beau- tiful to admit of being examined in a cursory manner : there is not even time for it to be seen, by diverging from a track which, in itself, fur- nishes full occupation for a day. I shall therefore defer it at present; proposing to reconduct the traveller to it from Blair; and allotting to it that degree of time and attention which it merits from him as well as myself. As it is indeed im- possible for the most industrious to examine the various scenes which, from this point upwards to Blair, diverge from the road, it will be the best plan for the writer, as for the traveller, to pro- ceed uninterruptedly onwards, and to reserve these for future examination ; making Blair the iiead quarters. o3 126 KILLICRANKIE TO BLAIR. KILLICRANKIE TO BLAIR. THE road has now entered the celebrated pass of Killicrankie ; a spot assuredly not more celebrated than it deserves, though better known, perhaps, for its military and historical fame, than for its wild magnificence. The change of scenery is here so complete as to re- excite our attention, which the fifteen preceding miles might have dulled : it is such as nearly to obliterate all that has past. For nearly a mile, the hills seem to close, as if denying all further access to the Highlands beyond. Ris- ing steep and sudden on both sides, they meet below in a deep chasm, through which the river seems to struggle for a passage, among rocks, and under precipices, and beneath the over- shadowing foliage of the woods that hang feathering over it, giving occasional glimpses of KILLICRANKIE TO BLAIR. 127 the water as it runs, now silent and dark, and now boiling and foaming, along. Above the road, and on the right hand, while the green face of the mountain sweeps up towards the sky, it is diversified with projecting rocks and scat- tered birches of antient growth ; formed below into continuous masses of wood, or into wild and irregular groups, and, above, separating dispersedly, till, as the lofty acclivity recedes from the eye, a thin line of trees hanging over the mountain stream, or half concealed in the deep ravine, gradually vanishes ; some solitary birch, with its thin foliage and light bending twigs, still appearing, like a centinel, perched on its rock, or lightly projected on the sky, as if the forest still lingered, unwilling to leave its native hill. The character of the opposite side is far more bold and more romantic, so as even, indeed, to present a strong contrast to that of the ac- clivity on which the road is conducted. Hence, in a great measure, it arises, that this pass pre- sents a variety and interest rare in similar sce- nery, where it is too common for one side to be little more than a reflection of the other. With- out being actually precipitous, the deep moun- G 4 128 KILLICRANKIE TO BLAIR. tain face, at the left hand, seems to rise like a wall from the profound and dark chasm below, and it is scarcely poetical to say, that it lifts its head to the sky ; such is the suddenness of its ascent, and so great its elevation. There is no foreshortening to diminish the effect ; and hence it possesses a character of alpine grandeur, rarely attained by objects of ten times its alti- tude. From the very water to the summit, it is covered with wood, through which the full rich green of the oak and alder, are inter- mingled with the light trembling foliage of the birch, with the greener hazel, the delicate ash, and the dark tints of the fir ; all uniting, as rarely happens in woods so mixed, so as to pro- duce an effect highly characteristic of this class of rude mountain and forest scenery, and pecu- liarly appropriate to the general wildness of the whole. Where the grey precipice refuses to give a footing to the solid woods, the oak and the ash are seen, starting from every crevice, or occupying some projecting asperity ; varying the sober tints of the rocks, and giving to them a richness which is increased by the drooping branches of the birch that hang over their summits ; while the deep recesses between them,, KILLICEANKIE TO BLAlll. 129 lost in shadow, serve, by their intensity of colour, to relieve the lights reflected by the rocky faces and by some occasional green knoll, which, happily interspersed, seems as if de- signed by nature to diminish the too solid effect of the continuous wood. The outline on the sky is equally picturesque and characteristic ; the undulating forms of the ground being varied at every point, by the as- perity of rock and scar, by the luxuriant soft- ness of continued masses of foliage, by the harder line of some chance pines, and by the trans- parent tenderness of the birch. Rich and various as the local colouring is thus rendered, by the intermixture of rock and grass and brown heath with wood of all hues, the whole is sub- dued by one universal tone of sober quiet green, as if the very atmosphere were impregnated with a harmonizing demi-tint ; producing that effect of repose and breadth, no less essential to such a scene than it is valued by painters, and com- pleting that character, compounded of greatness and simplicity of dimension and form with grandeur and depth of effect and stillness, which renders Killicrankie what, were it not a danger- 130 KILLICRANKIE TO BLAIR. ously poetical word, might be called an example of the sublime. It is not, however, in a barouche and four, that the traveller will experience all the effect which this scenery is capable of producing, though it will afford something for all classes ; even for the true native of Cockayne, who compares the Garry with the New River, and measures the mountains by St. Paul's, and for the novel-reading miss, whose notions of forests, have been formed on the Mysteries of Udolpho. But he for whom I would write, if I knew how, must take his own mind, as well as his person, into his own keeping. There is here a moral effect of solitude ; but why run my neck into a sentence, from which I may not be able to get out again ? It is better to remember the good Scottish proverb, and proceed. This spot affords many pictures, which, if not easy, are still within the reach of art. From one cascade, which descends the hill to cross the road, and which, in any other place, would be an object of notice, on account of its pictur- esque character, the high wooded hills, exclud- ing the sun, and producing here, even at noon- KILLICRANKIE TO BLAIR. 131 day, the effect of twilight, will afford a very manageable subject for the pencil ; if, at least, the artist adds, like Turner, the poet's mind to the painter's eye. From more points than one, the views looking backwards, or down the course of the stream, are also objects for art ; a pecu- liar grandeur of effect being produced, in this direction, by the deep and dark solid face of wood; barely, yet sufficiently, contrasted and relieved by a glimpse into the complicated dis- tance which includes the course of the Tumel and Garry, and by the presence of the romantic bridge over the latter river. In looking towards Blair, the general charac- ter is still more modified by the intrusion of a more extended and more prolonged, as well as a far more diversified, distance. Of this, by ch us- ing different stations, the artist may admit more or less; thus varying his picture accordingly. But the best point of view is indicated by bring- ing near to the middle of the picture, a knoll which lies beneath the road, crowned with conical forms of larch ; and of which the artist may make use or not, since more pictures than one can here be obtained by slight changes of 132 KILLICRANKIE TO BLAIB. position. The lateral screens at this point .oc- cupy less space than before, since it lies near to the termination of the pass. The left hand hill is still, however, rich, and lofty, and various, supporting, by its perpetual and unchangeable depth of shadow, the illuminated parts of the scene ; while, far below, the river is seen struggling through high rocks and working its intricate way along in foam, till it subsides into a deep and black pool, overshadowed by trees in all the profusion of variety in form and colour. This constitutes the eye of the picture ; and hence the course of the Garry is traced ob- scurely, through a rich and various valley, to Blair; some brilliant and glittering reach wind- ing through cultivated fields and scattered trees, then concealed from the eye among the more crowded and darker woods, and again ap- pearing in shorter gleams, till it is lost in the diminishing landscape ; while the prolonged vista of green hills, covered with forest and field and rock and cultivation, and ornamented and enlivened alike, by the bright architecture of the opulent and by the blue smoke curling along the dark green of the trees which sur- KILLICRANKIE TO BLAIR. 133 round, as they hide, the rustic cottages, guides the view to the misty grey of the distant moun- tains. The pass thus left behind, new kinds of sce- nery occur ; continued, with perpetual variety of incident* and considerable diversity of character, even to Blair. The most striking, however, is that which lies between the extremity of the pass and the village of Alt Girneg. Every step presents some new scene ; from that complica- tion of forms and multiplicity of objects which are here so conspicuous, and of which, rapidity in the succession of scenery is always a necessary consequence. To describe even a small part of these landscapes, would be a hopeless at* tempt ; while the more striking cannot fail to arrest the most obtuse taste or unpractised eye. On all hands, in every direction, and at every turn of the road, the artist will find a new pic- ture, and often, a totally new character ; but that which can never fail to take the attention, is the view from this village itself, and, most particularly, from a point situated near to the picturesque bridge which crosses the stream. The lofty precipice of naked rock which rises towering on the opposite side of the valley, give 134- KILLICBANKIE TO BLAIR. to this landscape a character equally grand and singular ; while the simplicity of its form and colouring is advantageously contrasted, as well as relieved, by the splendour of wood and river; and green field and torrent, which intervenes, and by the deep dark dell, the lively mill, and the noble ash trees, which, overhanging the bridge, form the foreground ; stretching away along the romantic banks of this rocky stream, till they are lost among the general luxuriance of the wood which skirts the Garry and rises upwards, in diminishing succession, to the foot of the dis- tant yet impending precipice. But Alt Girneg is itself a place which well deserves a summer's day ; and I must pass it now, as it will enter hereafter into the list of occupations which are accumulating for those who shall think their time better occupied by seeing that which they have come to see, than in hurrying over worth- less moor and road, satisfied with names rather than things. Many points on the road itself, after quitting this village, afford stations for admirable pic- tures. But as these are produced chiefly by the objects left behind, it is preferable to defer them till the course of the traveller brings him again KILLICRANKIfi TO BLAIR. 135 this way. The most watchful attention is in- sufficient to discover that scenery from which the spectator's course is averted; as a few yards, a single stone, a bank, or a tree, are often suf- ficient to make that difference which produces or obliterates a landscape in a country of this character. Generally, however, for the sake of those who may not have the opportunity of returning, it is right to remark, that the space of a hundred yards on this road, taken from the bridge, comprises some of the most remarkable scenes ; and that, at no great distance beyond this, an extremely fine view, towards the pass, will also be found, at a point where the road both ascends and makes a turn among wood; a long reach of the Garry flowing smoothly through the middle of the picture, and losing itself among the rich and varied ground just passed over; the whole being terminated by the fine forms of the hills, which, locked, as it were, into each other, unite to enclose the pass of Killicrankie. It is not far from this place that the traveller will observe an erect stone in a field on the right hand, which is generally pointed out as a rude monument to Lord Dundee. The more accu- 136 KILLICRAKKIE TO BLAIR. rate antiquaries of this country, however, have assigned a spot in the grounds of Urrard, higher up, which is said to be the true one, and to be that where he fell in the well-known action of Killicrankie. However that may be, he was buried in the church-yard of Blair. The history of a ferocious action harmonises ill with these scenes of beauty and peace. He who views the smiling and lovely landscapes around, would wish to forget that they were ever ravaged by war, or contaminated by civil discord. I will not assist in recalling to mind that which can only give pain, and should, myself, be well pleased to think that this monumental stone had belonged to Fingal, or any other visionary per- sonage, whose existence, or not, concerns us as little as that of the Pre-adamites. Let us leave Lord Dundee to Smollett and to the History of England. The remainder of the road to Blair, being a distance of about three miles, is everywhere ornamental, various, and picturesque ; afford- ing, at the same time, numerous points of vievr for drawing, which it would be difficult to pecify, for v/ant of places of reference. The village of Alt Clune is rather singular than KILL1CRANKIE TO BLAIR. 137 adapted to the pencil ; its bad effect arising, in some measure, from the nature of the ground, but, in great part also, from the unhappy archi- tecture, if architecture it may be called, of the Highland cottages; which, with roughness and rudeness enough to satisfy Mr. Price and all the abettors of his hypothesis, have so contrived it as to exclude every thing that could, by any possibility or effort, be translated into a pic- turesque form. The variety and number of the trees which skirt this road on both sides, add much to the number, as they do to the beauty, of the views ; by defining some, by excluding parts in others, by giving transient glimpses of a river, or a hill, or a distance, through a forest-like opening, or by ornamenting and affording foregrounds for the whole. The beauty of the various trees themselves will attract notice ; and, most of all, the magnificent birches by which the road is very genera) 'y skirted. While the hills rise rapidly on the night hand, the character and the ornament change perpetually as we advance towards Blair; rocks succeeding to woods, and the green pas- tures, which undulate informs of endless variety, being often intersected by deep valleys, or tra- versed by ravines, and every where sprinkled 138 KILLICRANKIE TO BLAIB. with wood, as if a refined art had laboured for years in doing that for which we are indebted to the inimitable artist, Nature. The grounds of Lude, ornamental, though often provokingly artificial, succeed as we advance ; the whole in- creasing in richness and variety till it terminate* in the wide and full magnificence of Blair. On the left, the Garry holds on tlie course of its beauti- ful stream through corn-field and meadow ; now foaming and brawling over its bed of white pebbles, now silent, smooth, and dark; here glit- tering in the sun, there wandering through woods, and beneath overhanging trees, or form- ing some dark pool under the shade of high rocks and banks, where it seems to sleep in per- petual repose. Beyond it, the long screen that bounds this delicious valley toward the west, rises from the woods and fields on its margin; swelling its green pastures to the sun, and ter- minating on the sky by its long undulating line, which is broken by the rocky scar r.^ rugged knoll, and intersected at intervals by the ,-urse of some mountain torrent, which betrays its seat by the deep dark furrow and the Wild and broken rows of ash which attend its wandering course to the lower grounds. BLAIR. 139 BLAIR. HOME GROUNDS OF BLAIR. IF every thing which has been designed for pleasure or ornament, and all the picturesque scenery which belongs to this domain, be in- cluded, this constitutes an extensive subject, as it occupies a very large tract of land. These grounds are indeed so wide, and, from the form of the country, so disposed, that a visitor neither easily comprehends nor appreciates them ; par- ticularly in the cursory view usually bestowed on this part of his tour. This is one reason why Blair seldom makes that impression which it ought, and which it is most amply calculated to produce. Another, and to some a much stronger one, is the recollection of Dunkeld still fresh. Those who do not see here that confusion of dose wooded scenery, and that crowded associa- tion of richness and splendour which is the cha- 140 BLAIR. racteristic of that beautiful spot, are apt to imagine it meagre, from its openness of display and disposition, and are unable to concentrate in their minds its wide extent and gigantic features. This is a misfortune which it requires time and reflection to correct; and is exactly akin to that which is of daily occurrence in landscape scenery, from the reading of descriptions which are apt to elevate the imagination to expectations that can- .not be exactly realized in the detail, and are, most often, short of them in the quality and degree. With the image of Dunkeld in his mind, the visitor has formed, for Blair, a plan of his own ; and finding it a false one, he is apt, like Horace's critic, to think that the reality is nothing. Hence it is that the scenery of Blair is far most impressive to those who, having taken a different course, arrive from the North. Seen in this manner, it has not only its own in- trinsic merits to rely on, but, occurring sud- denly after the dreary and tedious moors which occupy so much of the country from Inverness, and which increase in desolation as they extend further to the southward, it breaks on the eye with a splendour which is absolutely dazzling. It is but justice, to this place, as well as to him BLAIR. 141 who is desirous really to enjoy its beauties, to say, that three clays would be required to see it properly; and these, too, actively employed. More, much more, will be found insufficient for the artist ; since the number of scenes perfectly adapted for painting which it produces, is almost infinite. Every picture leads to some other; he who attempts to record them, finds them grow on his' hands ; and when he has obtained an hundred, will find that he has left an hundred more untouched. In this, it infinitely exceeds Dunkeld ; in which place, splendid as it is, the scenes adapted for pictures are, not only limited in number, but often marked by a predominant sameness of feature which becomes wearisome. At Blair, the variety is as endless as the num- bers; cascades in every mode of dimension and character, forest scenes, lakes, wild mountain landscape, and the grandeur of a rich alpine country, being intermingled with river scenery in all its varieties, with that of cultivated and wooded plains, and with endless examples of those minuter and closer landscapes which are produced among ravines, and rocks, and by bridges, mills, wild wooded torrents, and all the concealed ornaments of a mountainous region. 142 BLAIE. There is an appearance of artifice in the grounds immediately about the house of Blair, which will immediately catch the eye, and more, perhaps, at the first view than after a longer acquaintance. It will also chiefly offend those whose notions of beauty in landscape are not the produce of their own taste, or feeling, or studies, but are derived from a sort of phraseology which has long been current on this subject, and for which the world is chiefly indebted to a canting and scribbling sect, which is, fortunately, fast falling into oblivion. Such as the fault may, nevertheless, be, it must be sought in the fashions of the day when Blair was ornamented, namely, soon after the year 1742. That will also form its apology, as far as apology may be wanting ; for, with nothing before him but the example of a whole nation, and examples, too, of much worse taste than any thing which is displayed here, Duke James has contrived to avoid ail that could really offend the eye, even at a day when the better principles, those of landscape painting, which alone ought to regulate the disposition of extensive grounds, are generally understood. Were the formal plantation on the hill of Tul- loch absent, it would scarcely be discovered that BLAIR. 143 Blair was not the work of the present day: but no proprietor would now willingly destroy that which would leave a blank, even more offensive: and, to modify it by any mode of planting, without leaving the traces of former art, would be no easy task. Of the fantastic architectural objects which were once thought so necessary in laying out ground, no defence can be offered; but the same, or worse, are found in places of much more modern date and higher celebrity. Time, however, is fast disposing of them; and a few years will see BJair divested of at least these relics of ancient taste and magnificence. The fact is, that the air of artifice, not very predominant it is true, but still sufficiently disa- greeable, which is here visible, is derived from the neighbouring territory of Lude, and not from Blair itself. A piece of ground, naturally disposed in the most advantageous manner, has here been deformed by dry belts and drier formal clumps; nor has it required an ordinary degree of trouble to mar that which Nature de- signed for beauty, and which no conspiracy against taste, short of that displayed by Brown and the offspring of his school, could have effected. The same conceit and ignorance ap- 144 BLAIR. pear to have presided over the boltting of Tay- mouth; and there also, nothing short of the most inveterate antipathy to nature could have suc- ceeded in injuring that which the petty contri- vances of the artist did not enable him to destroy. Blair and Lude, thus balanced, offer an excel- lent example of that retrogradation in taste which marked the unlucky avatar of Brown. From the topiary work of the Romans, and the flats, and canals, and terraces, and Gods of Holland, to the more solid and broad, if still formal, works of Kent, was a real step in improvement; but with Brown and his clumps and belts, matters went backwards, at least to the age of Alcinous, or worse. The whole domain seemed but an enor- mous specimen of topiary; as if the same scissars which had formerly been kindly limited to dra- gonsand peacocks, had been employed in squaring and trimming whole forests into the shapes of entremets and hors (Tazuvres. If we had not known that this reformer of nature had been a planter of cabbages and flower borders, we should have concluded that he had been a cook or a con- fectioner. It is difficult to comprehend how any imagination could have ever flattered itself that it was rivalling or imitating nature in this most BLAIR. 145 wretched and meagre system, destitute of va- riety as well as of resource, by which all grounds, at one period, were made by a receipt, as uni- form as if the patterns had all been sent out from a taylor's shop. It is equally difficult to conceive how, as an artificial disposition, it could ever have been thought beautiful. Nature, it is not, and never was. It never did, and never will, unite or harmonize with any natural forms. It is art deforming nature ; and that, not on a scale to which we might shut our eyes, as in the times of more ancient schemes of the same class, but over an extent of surface which renders it an evil, in more senses than one, of the first magnitude. As a specimen of art, it has every demerit. It is ugly art; arid it is art which, in trying to conceal its true character, loses such little merit as it might otherwise claim. To bear the traces of human ingenuity and contrivance, confers some right to admiration ; because we admire the power and the resources which effected their purpose ; but in the art which Brown's gardening displayed, we see nothing but the efforts of one to whom all the best forms of art were as unknown, as the beauties of nature were beyond his comprehension. If H 146 BLAIB. ever this system has been tolerable, it is because he was unable to carry his intentions into full effect, or because nature still refused controul, or because time, in taking matters out of his hands, has modified or destroyed much of what was most characteristic in his style. It is not the least interesting circumstance in the history of this supposed improvement in English gardening, as it seems to have been exclusively considered, that a whole nation should so long have suffered itself to be misled, and so long have submitted to the dictates of such a pretender to taste ; and that, too, at such an enormous expense as might have covered the land with cathedrals, or with forests and cultiva- tion. So easily is the multitude led by him who claims to lead ; and so rare, even in an age of universal pretensions, is it, to find any real taste, or any rooted principles, in matters of beauty. How this censure applies on a much wider scale, it would not be difficult to shew. But to cut short criticism, it may be remarked, that a taste for the beauties of nature, is perhaps among the latest to arise. It belongs to some of the highest stages of refinement. Of how late a date it is in this country, will be obvious BLAIR. 147 on the slightest retrospect. When Gray wrote his letters, it had scarcely been suspected that the lakes of Westmoreland and Cumberland were objects of attraction. It was long after that period that they became the crowded resorts of those who now know, and of many who have not yet learnt to appreciate, their beauties. It is scarcely too much to say, that even their existence was scarcely known out of the imme- diate neighbourhood ; since Guthrie, in enume- rating the English lakes, in his well-known grammar, names Whittlesea Mere as the only object of any note in this division ; adding, as if of little moment, that there were also some lakes in Cumberland, called Derwent Waters, Wyndham did for Wales what Gray effected for Cumberland. Scotland has now become in some measure understood, yet still partially and im- perfectly ; but it is a fact that, twenty-five years ago, Loch Cateran was, what may fairly be called, unknown ; so little thought of, indeed, that there is a Scottish map, of no very distant date, in which it is not noticed. The house of Blair, or the castle, since it has the claims of an actual right to this term, is a conspicuous object ; and though without the H2 148 BLAIR. least pretence to architectural, or even pictu- resque beauty, it unites well, and often very unexpectedly and perfectly so, with the charac- ter of the surrounding landscape. Having been the gradual produce of additions and alterations, dictated by utility or necessity, and generally intended only to serve their purposes pro- visionally, it presents no consistency of design. Yet its long lines, its irregularity of outline and form, added to its extent and the appearance of solidity which it carries, render it, for the purposes of the landscape, a better object than a building of far higher pretensions to that taste to which it makes none, might have been. Those who may introduce it into their designs, will soon be con- vinced of this ; however disconcerted as to the colouring of their drawings they may be, by the glaring and unnecessary white of its surface. As it is indebted for its useful, if not its ornamental, additions, to the wide hospitality of its successive noble owners, so, to collateral circumstances, much less pleasing to dwell on, it owes the loss of that which, in depriving it of its office as a military post, deprived it also of the honours of a castle; honours descended on it from unknown antiquity. Having been occupied by Sir An- BLAIR. 149 drew Agnew and the King's forces in 1745, when it defended itself for nearly a month, until if was relieved, the two upper stories were removed after its evacuation, with the intention that it should never again be subjected to such a fate. Thus the irregular and castellated aspect of the outline was destroyed, leaving that anomalous ap- pearance which it now presents. It would not be difficult to restore it to a form, even more appropriate, and far more beautiful than the original one, by very slight additions in the manner of turret and bartizan, and without in- fringing on its leading characters. It is a building of great strength, and was the work, as this estate was once the property, of the great family of Cumin; but the records of its erection have followed the fate of much more which appertains to the ancient history of Scot- land. It is supposed, however, to have been built by John of Strathbogie, who was Earl of Atholl in right of his wife ; and a tower, which has, in losing its summit, become an incon- spicuous part of the building, is still called Cumin 1 s Tower. In 1644 it was occupied by Montrose ; and, undergoing the usual fate of the times, it was taken by Daniel, in 1653, for H3 150 BLAIB. CromweU. Still destined for a military post, to which, from its covering one of the main roads into the Highlands, it was well adapted, it was taken possession of by an officer of Dundee's army. Lord Murray, on this, threatened a siege, in consequence of which, Dundee marched to its relief; an event which was followed by the battle of Killicrankie. It is a circumstance worth notice respecting the siege of 1746 already mentioned, that Lord George Murray's artillery fired red-hot shot against it ; an expedient which, although known to the earlier artillerists, and used by the great Frederic, among others, had nearly fallen into disuse, when it was again rendered so conspicuous by its extensive adop- tion at Gibraltar. To be sensible of the full effect of this build- ing in the landscape, it is best viewed from the end of the avenue near the gardener's house. Here, on turning the angle of the wall, it breaks suddenly on the eye ; rising boldly, with its long irregular wings, in the midst of a wide and noble hollow sweep of lawn and wood, bounded on each side by lofty hills and forests, and backed by a rich valley, through which the Garry winds ; the dark brown and purple hues BLAIR. 151 of the mountain ridges beyond it terminating in the elegant conical form of Schihallien, as it fades, misty and blue, in the horizon. I need only name two other points whence it forms the chief object, in landscapes of an extremely per- fect character and of great magnificence; because they might not readily be discovered by a casual visitor. One of these is situated not far from the entrance of the shrubbery walk which leads to the church, and the other lies near to the obelisk in the deer park. Both of these points offer magnificent and comprehensive views of the nearer grounds; and, from the latter command- ing situation in particular, the landscapes in every direction are very grand. A group of ancient firs, throwing their knotted and twisted branches out in wild and picturesque forms, affords admirable objects for the immediate fore- ground. The whole of the deer park throughout, is romantic and singular, from the irregularity of the ground and the happy disposition of the fine trees which are scattered in profusion about it. Even the obelisk is insufficient to give an arti- ficial character to that which here, as everywhere else about Blair, is so stamped with the strong H4 152 BLAIR. markings of Nature's .hand as to neutralize all which art would interfere with or add. Not, how- ever, to particularize all the interesting parts of the irregular ground which forms the mass of the home domain, and where no pretensions to ornament and no provision for walks exist, I shall only add in general, that there is scarcely a point throughout all the fields that surround the house, and which may be said to belong to the pleasure grounds, that does not afford some grand or striking view, and that, generally, under some novelty of aspect and combination. Different elevations, as well as different positions, produce different pictures; a consequence arising, partly from the irregularity of the ground, which admits and excludes alternately different portions of the splendid scenery around, and partly from the masses and groups of wood or of trees, singly placed or disposed in different com- binations, with which every part is thickly studded. To these causes must be added the endless variety of the distance; which, favourably disposed for the reception of all those transient atmospheric effects so common in an alpine country, and varying as it is viewed under the new light of the early morning, the broad glare JJLA1R. 153 of noon, or the deep shadows of evening, is dis- played in the most favourable manner, in conse- quence of the fine ascending sweep of the hills beneath, which bound this capacious valley, and the long vista of brown and blue mountain land which, above, conducts the eye to the far-off and rude Highlands. Hercules, the last remaining hero of his leaden race, continues to preside over a green and broad walk, which those who have determined that they will admire nothing straight, shall be allowed to make a cause of urihappiness or criticism, as it may happen ; and which the more fortunate, who borrow their delights from other things than systems and fashions and hypotheses, will not require directions to admire and enjoy. In the deep and obscure glades of the grove to which it leads, after gently ascending, cool, and soft, and green, and spacious, amid shrubs and flowers, over a swelling knoll skirted by magnificent larches, the botanist will find, thickly growing in fragrant profusion, the sweet flowers of the Pyrola. Hence he may proceed in various directions through green lawns shaded with trees, or along winding gravelled walks; or he may plunge into rude thickets, where the hare and the partridge H5 154 BLATR. starting before him, or some stray deer bounding from the cover, will make him forget, in the rude and judicious negligence which has abandoned these spots to Nature, the equally judicious art which has conducted him there. The garden at Blair no less demands the at- tention of those who have not made such ad- vances in taste as to have discovered that a gar- den is a deformity, a receptacle of cabbages and dunghills ; that it ought to be concealed from hu- man eye and removed from human reach, con- signed to the gardener and his crew, and reserved to supply the owner's table, as is a necessary con- sequence of this banishment, with one tenth of its produce, and the neighbouring thieves or markets with the remainder. In the days of our ancestry and of ignorance, before improving gar- deners and cabbage gardeners had combined and conspired to rob us of that which formed the occupation and pleasure of Eden, the garden was a portion of the house, the seat of hourly resort and hourly pleasure, of solitary musing and social enjoyment, of the fresh morning exer- cise, the shaded noon-day walk, and the evening feast. But the days and the honours of " the flower and the lefe" are past: some demon whis- BLAIR. 155 pered England, have a taste; and we have been curtailed of more than half of our fair pro- portion of recreation, and of all our most hourly and accessible ones, to make way for a cold shaven lawn, wet at night, wet in the morning, and broiling in the noon day, and where the house appears as if it had been dropped ready- made from the clouds. What peculiar charm there is in vacuity, it would be hard to discover; or in what respect a patch of green meadow is more ornamental than shrubs and flowers and fruit, or more fitted to enjoyment, or a more ap- propriate receptacle for the house with which it neither harmonizes nor unites. Surely the pro- jector of this system must have been a grazier; it could only have been dictated by a vaccinity of feeling. They managed this matter better formerly, even in our own country, and they manage it now far better in France and Italy. He will deserve more than the whole herd of Kents and Reptons that ever existed, who shall once more restore the garden to its place and its honours; even though it should bring back all its parade of terraces, and steps, and topiary box, with its lumber of Naiads, and Cupids, and Mercurys. Some yew hedges in this beautiful garden still 116 156 BLAIR. betray their former office, in the remains of pea- cocks' tails and of other shapes, which, for want of the barber's accustomed art, have so long been suffered to enjoy their own way, that scarcely a feather is now in its duty. I could almost weep over the fall of the peacocks ; not from any pe- culiar pity for their own fate, but because when reformation of this nature begins, it rarely stops at cutting off the heads of peacocks ; or of kings either, as the event has proved. Hence the de- struction of the magnificent garden of Glamis, the last relic of the taste and splendour, in this department, of our ancestors in Scotland. And, doubtless, the modern Goth who sanctioned or effected this ruin, thought that he was rendering taste, the world, and himself, an especial service, instead of robbing the whole, as he has done, at one blow. We would all willingly have ex- changed even his house for his garden, in spite of its architectural merits and beauty; standing, as it now does, naked, incongruous, as if it had been just imported from a Flemish toy-shop, or had risen " from the ground," an exotic "exhalation." Where there are no principles of action, there is no medium in reforms. Lawrembergius, in his Essay on Horticulture, describes, with great affection, a garden at Chartres, where the seven BLAIR. 157 wise men of Greece, the twelve labours of Her- cules, the three Graces, the feast of the Gods on Olympus, and a Roman symposium, were all cut in box, and accompanied, moreover, by explanatory verses. This was a refinement, even on Martial's topiary architecture, it must be admitted ; nor need we lament because all the lions and tigers which once adorned Hampton Court, in privet, have lost their animal natures, or that the Royal arms are no longer to be recognised, even by Garter King or Rouge Dragon. But if the re- formers had been only content to rest and look on, kind Nature would soon have resumed all her rights : the Gods and the Graces alike would have undergone the metamorphoses of Baucis and Philemon, without the interposition of Jove or man ; and " Leisure' 1 might still have been allowed " in trim gardens to take his pleasure," instead of being deprived, as he has been, of pleasure and of garden both. The Garden of Blair is not all that it ought to be, because it is too far from the house ; but it is better that a garden should be even at the distance of a walk, than that we should not have one fit to walk in. It forms a delicious retreat, sheltered from all those common evils of life 158 BLAIR. which high walls, and trees, and hills, can ex- clude ; spacious enough to take off all feeling of limit or confinement; green enough, and thick enough with foliage, to conceal its walls and its art; and, in its disposition, happily mixing enough of splendid confusion with needful regu- larity to produce a picturesque effect sufficient even for the followers of Price and roughness. Bacon's idea of a garden is here so realized, that we can almost imagine his essay had been its model. There are cabbages for the cook, and flowers for delight, and fruit for prodigality as well as for use ; with shrubs and trees for orna- ment, and walks for pleasure. No one need faint at the smell of a leek, for it grows tinder the shadow of a rose. Celery is bordered by carna- tions, delicate ranks of lady-like lettuces are at- tended in spring by regiments of beau tulips ; and, in autumn, the tender green of succeeding generations mingles with the bright blue of the larkspur, the fragrant yellow of the lupin, and the varied blaze of the China aster. On that sunny bank where the strawberry tempts with its brilliant fruit, the mignonette perfumes the air with its sweets; and where tall rows of twining peas, decked in crimson and purple, diffuse their BLAIR. 159 odours on the breeze, rival ranks, of snowy whiteness, give earnest of the future fragrance of roast duck. The useless shrub and the barren tree, even here are permitted to add ornament and shade; and here also are the delights that dwell in beds of roses and twining honeysuckles. But the perfumed raspberry and scarlet currant, disputing their places with the empty laurel and the profitless spiroea, combine use and pleasure; and the solid pudding and pie, which hang in promise from apple and from pear, make good their pretensions against empty praise. In sober earnest, there is nothing hideous in a cauliflower or a radish, nor is there any thing inherent in a kitchen garden which can render it an object of distaste. The hot-bed may pro- perly conceal its fragrance among embowering lilacs and laburnums, being " minus aptus acutis naribus," but there is no plant cultivated for use which is not beautiful in itself, and which is not, commonly, disposed in a beautiful manner. There are few merely ornamental shrubs and trees more beautiful than the fruit-bearing ones ; and, over most, they have the advantage of possessing two distinct seasons of beauty. The aromatic plants that are cultivated for the kitchen, are both 160 BLAIR. fragrant and ornamental, and the flowers of gi- rasol, (Jerusalem artichoke) endive, scorzonera, and artichoke, to say nothing of the blossoms of the strawberry, the apple, the cherry, the pear, and the peach, may well rival, even as mere ornaments, hundreds that are cultivated for no other purpose. With such materials, were even no more ad- mitted, it is perfectly easy to construct a mere kitchen garden that shall be beautiful. The con- stituent materials are the same as those for the flower garden and the shrubbery, as far as dispo- sition and effect are concerned ; and these are the essential points. It is not necessary for the health of the plants or the convenience of the gardener, that every thing should be classed and arranged over a naked surface of dry ground, the very aspect of which, cultivate it as we may, conveys the sense of sterility ; or that an avari- cious economy of space should be added to a wooden formality, as if the rigid policy of a nursery was necessarily to be adopted. There is no difficulty in making arrangements equally useful and ornamental, even out of our most ordinary objects of cultivation. But there is no reason whatever why the kitchen garden should BLAIR. 161 not admit ornament, why its beds should not be bordered by flowers, or shaded by merely luxu- rious shrubs. It is but a step further to inter- sperse the two ; or to render the useful garden subservient, in point of appearance as well as space, to the ornamental one. Thus disposed, all the culinary plants may even be concealed, if it is thought necessary. But that cannot be requisite ; because their colours, and forms, and masses, are perfectly capable of being combined with those which belong to pure ornament, so as to add to it, or to become undiscoverable to the eye which is only in search of beauty. Thus also, by a due succession of flowering plants or shrubs, the kitchen garden may be made an object of interest as long as a green leaf or a flower shall remain ; and an autumn of fruit may be accompanied by a spring of flowers. From the garden or the Hercules walk, a way conducts through green open glades, and groves of fine larch and other forest trees, to a gravelled path, with a parallel green ride, traced down- wards, close to the wild margin of the Tilt. Below a bridge which conducted the antient road, a small fall of water, called the York cas- cade, is pointed out to visitors, projected from 162 BLAIR. above, over a woody precipitous bank, into the river. From this point the rude course of this always turbulent stream is continued through rocks and amid overhanging trees, affording dif- ferent picturesque scenes, till it falls into the Garry. The accompanying walk is various and wild, shadowy with fir and larch, and, com- monly, impending over the river, which, below, forces its foaming and brawling way amidst in- numerable obstructions, under high rocks, and through deep crevices, or amidst enormous frag- ments, worn and furrowed by the violence of its waters. One conspicuous rock, of a pyramidal shape, is here pointed out by tradition, as a place of pu- nishment in the envied days of feudal govern- ment : with what truth, must not be asked ; since it is the very character of tradition to wince under the smallest symptom of doubt, and to demand for itself a credence more unhe- sitating than is claimed by those records, which, if they are not true from their essence and nature, ought at any rate to preserve more of that volatile spirit of truth, so difficult to retain at all times, and so apt to evaporate in repeated distillations. Whatever may be the fact, this BLAIB. 168 rock was not a Tarpeian rock, however, but a kind of Sombrero: on which the culprit who could neither stem the stream nor wade the ford, might starve, " stans" like St. Simon Stylites, " pede in uno." It is true, and pity 'tis 'tis true, that if there be a Tom-na-croich, as there is, by the bye, in the park of Blair, or a gallows tree, which is as good for the purpose as a gallows hill, or any other abominable memorial of tyranny, or misery, or oppression, or if there be the scene of a murder, or of a battle, or of any vile event that ought to be forgotten, it is always that which is best re- membered, and remembered for ever. Nobody knows or cares where the lord of the castle was married or born, where he danced, or where he feasted his vassals ; but every one remembers where he was murdered himself, or where he murdered his neighbour ; where his carcase lies, and where he hanged his followers or his ene- mies. Thus pain is recalled when pleasure is forgotten : thus history is but the record of crimes and follies : years of sunshine and pros- perity make no passing mark, when the tempest and the hurricane and the earthquake become calendared in story : and, of Herculaneum and 164 BLAIR. Pompeii, we only know that they were de- stroyed. In returning hence according to the usual route, the walk leads through an avenue of limes, which appears to have been intended as a prin- cipal feature in the original grounds, but the effect of which has been nearly obliterated by the growth of the surrounding wood, and by the far greater extent of the more recent improve- ments. It conducts the eye that chuses to be so conducted, to one of those ancient architectural fictions, which our forefathers doubtless thought proofs of wisdom, even when they christened them whims and follies. For the term folly, Cornwall has substituted the apter one, make- toise; as if to ape wisdom was the leading mark of folly. Whatever the moral of the matter may be, the wise man will not trouble himself to look a-head, for the space of a mile, through Gregorys avenue, for the mere purpose of seeing a silly or a disagreeable object. Life, in all its places and shapes, affords more than enough of such things to those who delight in the seamy side of the world. The avenue itself affords ground for an observa- tion which, if it be somewhat stale, is worth making, because it is attended, like Ophelia's rue, with a BLAIE. 165 difference. The form into which the branches unite above, is precisely that of the last and the least agreeable of the Gothic arches ; that one which seems as if it had applied a point to the long side of an ellipse. It is even more remarkable here, that, in their length and simplicity, the stems emulate some of the least tasteful columns of this architecture, and that they are all regu- larly provided with swelling bases, of remarkable uniformity, produced by a circle of young shoots springing up, about each, near the root. The avenues of Blair have escaped the axe of the spoiler, or the reformer, as he is called ; be- cause the improvement of Blair in general has been wisely trusted to the slow and sure hand of Time, and to those casual and happy arrange- ments which the progress of planting, in a country of this form, must certainly produce. But the genus at large, as far as it has escaped the abominations of reformation, seems now safe. Public taste has at length come to its senses on the subject of avenues ; and we need not now despair of seeing that created, which it was, not long ago, a fashion, and a proof of supposed taste, to eradicate. The visitor, who now begins to see that there 166 BLAIR. is more in the grounds of Blair than he at first suspected, will not be content to terminate his walk by the Tilt side in this manner. By pro- ceeding down the course of the stream till it joins the Garry, lie will discover a rude, yet highly amusing walk, displaying much unexpected scenery, and many subjects admirably adapted for painting. A row of ash, skirting the beau- tiful banks of this latter river at the ferry, will lend its aid to form foregrounds for some highly beautiful views, principally looking down the course of the water, which, wandering through this wooded valley, terminates in that elegant form which so often constitutes the last outline in all these pictures, Ben Vrackie. As this mountain was the most conspicuous object from Dunkeld, so it has continued to form a principal one at Blair ; easily recognised, but still more graceful when thus seen reversed. This patch of rude land, called the haugh of Blair, affords other scenes and of another character, which cannot fail to call forth the efforts of an artist ; and chiefly of those who have formed their taste on the Flemish style of landscape ; a taste, how- ever, which cannot be much commended, unless kept within due bounds, and which has become BLAIR. 167 far too general among our artists of the present day. These scenes will be found about two mills ; which, with their wheels and their wood- work, their nettles, and docks, and stones, and water-leads, afford several pleasing pictures in this line of art, much enhanced by the ash trees which accompany them, and acquiring a dignity, not usual in scenery of this nature, from the fine back ground of mountains which towers high and blue beyond them. Returning hence to the grounds of Blair, by the side of the Garry, landscapes of a different order occur : still interesting and grand, if less so than those which are obtained from the more elevated positions. The river side itself, at more points than one, affords pleasing and detailed views of the house and the surrounding objects; nor can the artist want foregrounds, as they are furnished in abundance by broken banks, and trees, and bridges ; while the scenery itself pre- sents one very essential and characteristic dif- ference, when compared to the former views ; arising from the back ground of mountains which incloses Glen Tilt, being substituted for those which had formerly constituted the distances. The walk called the Den, is the last of the 168 BLAIE. objects within the home grounds at Blair which I can afford room to notice. The Banavie, de- scending from the moors in a deep channel, forms a bold ravine, before reaching the lawn and lower ground through which it holds its quieter course to join the Garry. Advantage has been taken of this feature to form the walk in ques- tion, no less romantic than it is characteristic of an alpine country. The extensive and luxuriant woods which cover the faces of Craig Urrard, des- cending towards the house, deepen its shadows as they add variety to its intricacies. A mixture of shrubbery and flower garden and grove and green glade, conducts to the entrance of the lowest walk, and beneath an arch which, high above it, is thrown across to give passage to the road ; producing, at the same time, a very picturesque scene. The river here runs close to the foot-path, forcing its way among mossy stones and over pebbles; now break- ing in curling foam against some obstruction, then gliding away in rippling lines of green light, or resting, brown and silent, beneath the impending darkness of some overhanging rock. The banks, high and precipitous, sometimes rocky and bold, at others clothed with dense and BLAIR. 169 tangled shrubs, give footing to trees of endless va- riety, which, mixing in all their luxuriance over head, unite with the depth and narrowness of the ravine to exclude the day. The sunshine never penetrates to these deep recesses, which are dimly illuminated by the green sober lights reflected from the foliage of the trees, and from the water gliding and foaming below. Above, a bright ray is sometimes seen forcing its way across, flickering among the leaves, or occasionally arrested by some grey branch which it tinges with a faint and pale hue. Not even a bird disturbs the silence of this shadowy solitude ; which is ren- dered even more impressive, by the interrupted murmur of the water, or by the passage of an occasional breeze among the branches, giving notice of its presence by the fall of a leaf or a twig, and again subsiding as it arose. Proceeding onwards, the path ascends, gradu- ally quitting the water. On one hand, a deep and hollow bank, overhanging with all its fringe of ferns and wood-flowers, and covered with long, pale, drooping grasses, drips in ceaseless showers on the carpet of rich and luxuriant mosses which occupies the surface of every stone and projection; the dark hollow which it covers scarcely betray- i 170 BLAIR. ing the presence of some stray root which, pene- trating from above, retires into its obscure re- cesses to shun even the faint glimmering twilight that reigns in this secluded spot. Here, the narrow and almost perilous way hangs over the water, which, issuing from the deep shade of closing rocks and entangled woods that, meet- ing across, conceal its origin, is seen far below, murmuring, yet unheard, among the dark brown stones and green mossy fragments that divide and impede its intricate course. Far over head and around, the fir and larch are intermixed in luxuriant confusion ; while the oak and the ash, rooted in the crevices of the deep cliffs, or in the edges of the steep overhanging banks, feather down to the water ; mingled with the hazel, the alder, the wild rose, and the honeysuckle, and with the varied and rich ornament of fern, and wood- rush, and bright green moss, and long waving grasses. Some scathed trunk fallen across the chasm, or withered branches, grey with lichen and decay, spreading their twisted and knotted arms across, or a tree which, brought down by the win- ter torrents, has been arrested by a rock in the stream, add occasional variety to a scene where art has judiciously rested at that happy point BLAIR. 171 which, in giving access, comfort, and security to the spectator, triumphs over that nature whose rudeness it enhances as it embellishes. It has been one of the great mistakes, in these cases, to exclude art altogether. Each adds to each a double charm ; and while we turn with indiffer- ence or with satiety, even with pain, from Nature in all her purity of rudeness and neglect, we experience double pleasure from what we can contemplate and study at our ease, from that which, though not withdrawn from nature, has become as it were a denizen of art. 'As the path, gradually ascending, and wind- ing along the face of a chasm which becomes deeper and narrower as we proceed, reaches the summit, it unites to a ride which has been con- ducted through the fir woods above. Then, passing a bridge rudely appropriate to the scene, beneath which the torrent forces its way through a deep and rocky chasm in a succession of cas- cades and dark pools, it returns through an open grove along the descending stream ; offer- ing, in the ease with which it is now pursued, a happy contrast to the labour which had attended its ascent. A dexterous artist will easily extract from this 172 BLAIR. spot, some scenes for his pencil : by omilting something where there is too much, or by trans- posing parts of that which the wantonness or luxuriance of nature has misplaced. These are admissible licences. Even with such liberties, fidelity may be preserved if it is desired : but he will draw little profit from Nature who does not find in her something more than mere portraits ; and who does not, by altering or recomposing, or by a due use of valuable hints and detached parts, contrive to store his portfolio with some- thing more than the mere materials of future studies. To the botanist, the upper parts of the walk will furnish the Pyrola rotundifolia, as well as the more common Minor, together with abun- dance of the rare Secunda. In autumn, he may riot among the infinitude of Fungi which are produced, not only here, but among the woods and dells of Blair throughout; the genus Agari- cus,in particular, presenting nearly three-fourths of the species which it includes, and with end- less variety as to colour and aspect. BLAIR. 173 OUTER GROUNDS OF BLAIR TILT WALKS- FENDER. IF the home grounds of Blair are yet but im- perfectly known to strangers, still more true is it of the remote; of which, indeed, it may be said without exaggeration, that their beauties are as little known as if they had never been, and that even the existence of many scenes is unsuspected. If a few persons, annually, may penetrate as far as Glen Tilt, attracted by the reputation of its marbles or its deer, there is scarcely one who is aware of its picturesque merits, and not an in- dividual who ever deviates from the rigid road, to investigate the endless and striking scenes which here lie on the north-eastern side of the Garry. From the home grounds, the visitor may pro- ceed across the road, to a beautiful field adorned i3 174 BLAIR. with the most splendid ash trees, which will con- duct him to that object, formerly noticed, called the Whim. But he is here counselled, first to make the entire circuit of this very extensive en- closure, termed the Colts ; not only on account of the variety of ground which itself presents, in its greener swelling pastures, wild clumps of wood, elegant scattered trees, deep moorland water- courses, and rocky knolls, but for the magnifi- cently extended views which it affords over the whole of the grounds and the valley. Indebted originally to nature for its form, art has here happily concurred in rendering this magnificent park, (a park in every thing but the, here, un- necessary presence of deer,) a specimen of that to which Britain does not probably produce many rivals. Those who have vainly attempted, by the usual system, to produce this requisite ingredient of all extensive country seats, may here take example from a green field, surrounded by a solid mass of wood on one side, bounded by a road on the other, planted with clumps and with single trees, yet not giving the slightest indications of artifice ; free from hardness or constraint, and as unlike the productions of the BLAIll. 175 Brown school as if Nature, had finished the work of which she laid the foundations. The views of the valley of Blair which it gives, are amongst the most comprehensive, the most grand, and the best adapted for painting which can be obtained here. Enough of the house is seen, to form the eye and indicate the chief object of the picture ; and here, its white colour is advantageous ; particularly from the contrast it offers to the dark hues of the massy woods in which it appears shrouded. The rich valley, extending far beyond it, with all its trees and cultivation and its meandering river, fades gradually in the air tints that soften the elegant forms of the dark mountain masses which close above the pass of Killicrankie. On each side, the green hills rise with a gentle ascent, woody below with clump and forest, and rich with scattered trees, houses, and fields ; till, gaining the edge of the sky, they terminate in a finely broken outline of rude moorland and mountain. Nor is any thing wanting to complete these pic- tures; as the middle grounds are continued forward till they unite to foregrounds of rock and tree, harmonizing with the whole, and con- i4 176 BLAIR. ducting the eye in uninterrupted consistency of character to the last blue summit. Though the Whim itself does not claim any praise, it is an admirable station for a view of similar character ; more commanding and de- tailed, and therefore more entertaining, but less adapted for painting. Broad green glades, the abodes of solitude and uninterrupted silence, lead hence, through open groves and closer forests, to the rides which are connected with the romantic scenery of the Banavie ; and hence, along the wild hollow moor which conducts to the remote hunting lodge of Glen Bruar, or through tangled wild wood, or opener forests of fir and larch, to the rocky summit of Craig Urrard. From this commanding station, the grounds of Blair, and the whole course of the valley, north and south, are seen in a detail which is almost geographical ; and here a more complete notion of the form and disposition of all this various and wide-extended tract can be obtained, than from any conveniently accessible station in this quarter. It is, therefore, one of those points which it is incumbent on those who are desirous of forming an adequate judgment of this place, to visit. While it commands the BLAIR. 177 whole course of the Garry and of all its accom- panying beauties, from the rude moors of Dalna- cardoch to Killicrankie, displaying, almost as in a map, the immediate grounds of Blair and of Lude, and all that profusion of rich detail which seems to render the whole the continuous domain of one great occupant, it looks down majestically over the intensely dark woods which sweep in an unbroken sheet from its in- sulated summit, and round upon the varied circle of brown hill and distant blue mountains, which, rising in succession of form and colour beyond each other, bound the wide and wild horizon. Hence descending again towards the Banavie, a varied ride, through open wooded field and close forest, conducts to Glen Tilt ; presenting still the same scenery, yet under different as- pects and with different foregrounds. It is un- necessary to dwell on these scenes, or to detail all these rides, beautiful as they are; while it will be more convenient and profitable to the mere visitor, to take Glen Tilt in a different order ; presenting, as it does, occupation enough for a forenoon, and displaying better, some of the most important parts of its scenery, at lower i5 178 BLAIR. points and nearer home. As far as a mere walk extends, it presents matter as singular as it is beautiful ; but its greater and more distant features, of a totally distinct character, demand time that a ride alone can compass. The walk which extends, within the home grounds of Blair, and by the side of the Tilt, down the stream, also ascends it, by crossing a bridge thrown over the high road. On the left hand, or else by crossing another bridge, similarly placed, opposite to the garden, the visitor will find a range of beautiful open park land, diversified with knolls and irregularities, and interspersed with singularly fine and orna- mental birches. It well deserves to form a more intimate part of those accessible grounds from which the high road has in a great measure excluded it. Neglecting, for the present, this ride, together with a parallel walk which pro- ceeds hence up the valley, another, to the right, conducts along the narrow ravine through which the Tilt here runs, into a deep rocky amphi- theatre, which will most deservedly attract the attention of all, and not least of those who, from want of acquaintance with alpine scenery, are most struck with that which adds somewhat of BLAIR. 179 the feeling of danger as well as wonder, to rude- ness and wildness of picturesque character. For a short space, this walk, emerging from the wood which extends far up this valley, is fearlessly, yet, to the timid, fearfully, conducted by excavation, along and upon the side of a rock, literally, and not according to the usual hyperbolic phrase, precipitous ; which, high over- hanging like a wall, plunges perpendicularly down a space of more than an hundred feet, to the invisible river below. The depth and dark- ness of this narrow chasm add a sense of fear, which even the feeling of security does not quite remove, to that which proceeds from the narrow rocky ledge on which the spectator must walk, and from the rude staircase which conducts him down to the cavern-like, yet spacious hollow, where a seat will allow him to contemplate this extraordinary scene at his ease. Here he finds himself buried from the day, in that grey and green atmosphere of reflected light so peculiar to these deep and wooded alpine recesses, and so incapable of being described, either by the pen or the pencil. Behind and above him, a dark grey and dripping face of broad rock rises high aloft ; crowned with wood, 16 180 BLAIR. and here and there giving root to some slender shrub, or to an occasional fern, or to a patch of bright green moss. The road which he had descended, seems now frightfully to overhang the dark and deep fissure, in which the river loses itself under the shadow of the trees which, flinging their crooked branches across, advance to overshadow it with all the variety of darker green and of light, tender, foliage. As the footpath winds from his position under the high precipice, in the opposite direction, guided over the rude margin of broken rocks which here confines the stream, it ascends till it is lost among the dense and closing woods, whence the river is seen breaking out in foam and mist from amidst a dark rocky aperture thickly shaded and enclosed by trees, and hurrying, in a succession of whiten- ing cascades and boiling eddies among huge rocks, till, rolling its brown dark water through the deepening channel, it plunges beneath, into the invisible abyss, smooth, black, and silent. On the opposite side, the rocky precipices, which equally bound the river and conspire to produce this rude and wild scene of cool shade, fit haunt for the naiads of classical poetry, give root to trees of bolder growth, whose huge and BLAIR. 181 twisted grey stems, stretching wide over the water, suspend their light, green, transparent leaves and moss-covered branches above it, ad- ding a deeper shadow to the recesses of the rock which they overhang, and to the brown wave which, dimpling in quieter eddies beneath it, sails slowly round against the stream, to lodge its floating masses of snowy foam within some crevice. Above, forest, and field, and tree, in- termixed, succeed, till the woody outline meets the sky ; a drooping birch or ash of taller growth, perched high on some of the nearer elevations, breaking and varying the outline, and adding richness, if to add richness were possible, to this romantic recess. To complete this picture of alpine grandeur, a profound and narrow fissure divides the lofty and rocky wooded cliff which faces the specta- tor's station. The Fender, giving name to a scene which would scarcely miss it were it absent, descends through this chasm in a series of cas- cades ; its origin lost in the darkness of the overshadowing rocks and woods, and whitening in a shower of foam as it reaches the stream below. For those to whom the noise and eo** fusion of falling water bear a charm superior to 182 BLAIE. all which a cascade, in reality, only serves to embellish, the season of rain will here have superior charms : but a correct taste will not regret the heat and sunshine of July, which, causing fne Fender to retire deep within its dark channel, substitutes for tumult and glare, that sobriety of colour and tranquillity of cha- racter which are more peculiarly appropriate to the place. The remainder of the walk on this side of the Tilt leads among woods high above the banks of this deep chasm; so deep and so thickly wooded, that the water is seldom visible, and never heard ; unless when, swelled with rains, it boils and thunders through a channel too narrow to give it a free passage. At one point only, it attains the advancing angle of a preci- pice so steep as to exclude all trees beneath ; where, perpendicularly stationed on a dizzy and narrow point, the spectator views the water rolling along far beneath ; the thick woods closing all around him, and the opposite bank rising in successive elevations till it joins the impending mountain skirts of Ben-y-gloe. Hence, the path reaches at length the opener part of the chasm that conducts the river ; which now, less BLAIH. 183 deep, as well as wider, forms an angle, displaying a fine view of a rocky and woody amphitheatre, where the water, spread out at liberty, assumes a broader and more majestic character. But here, unfortunately, his walk terminates in the last remains of a wooden and rustic bridge, which time, with the ravages of winter waters and winter frosts, has demolished. What remains of this scenery can only there- fore be attained by a new route on the southern side of the Tilt ; and as it is far too fine and too various to be omitted, I must conduct the visitor to it, by causing him to cross the bridge of Tilt by the high road, and to ascend the hill on the left hand, through a picturesque scene of houses, and mills, and rude bridges, and trees, and falling waters. Many beautiful scenes, and much that is susceptible of being represented in painting, both in near and distant scenery, may be ob- tained during this short ascent. At the distance of about a mile, a singularly secluded dell, with a mill, surrounded by fine ash trees, and termi- nating in the high mountain tract of Ben-y-gloe, will also be found. And that I may terminate at once all which may be said of the more dis- tant expeditions in this direction, I shall add, 184 BLA1E. that a good road conducts hence, to a point not far from the top of Ben-y-gloe, situated about twelve miles off, along what is called the Queen's Road. This mountain may be ascended, to within no great distance from its summit, on horseback ; a circumstance which may tempt many who are ambitious of such views : but I am bound, at the same time, to say, that the prospect from Cairn Gower, the highest point, is by no means interesting, since it commands little else than a continued succession of rude and uniform mountains, heaped on each other to the very margin of the horizon, without any of that variety of vale, and lake, and river, and opener lowlands, which render the views from Ben Lomond, Ben Lawers, and many other mountains, so various and so magnificent. To return to the scenery on the Fender and the Tilt, the visitor must first avoid crossing a bridge which will immediately meet him on the left, after ascending the hill. Taking a rude path on the edge of a steep bank, among some wood of no note, a deep dell appears, through which the Fender holds its course beneath the bridge just named. At the upper extremity of this dell, is the first and the most remarkable cascade which BLAIR. 185 this river forms. The water, being collected in a dark cavity above, glides quietly over a single ledge of rock, between high enclosing sides, till it dashes, in a single fall, into a second receptacle, and then into the turbulent pool below, whence it sails away among rocks and bushes till it dis- appears. With very little of appendage or orna- ment, this cascade is exceedingly picturesque in disposition and effect ; although not very easily rendered the subject of painting. The obliquity of its direction, the obscurity of its origin, its height, and the mass of water, which is consi- derable, united to the very beautiful form of the shadowy hollow through which it plunges, render it as singular a specimen of this class of scenery as it is a beautiful one. With much more of wood, and by some care and attention to accom- paniments, where every thing is in a state of neglect, it might easily be rendered more orna- mental in effect, without losing its peculiar cha- racter : it being of the very essence of cascades, at least when on a small scale, to receive improve- ment from any attempt at art. Appearing al- most to have been designed for captivating the eye of man, and frequently exciting some notion of human power or of the human presence, the 186 BLAIR. waterfall seems as if it always claimed the pro- tection and the care that are bestowed on the scenes which he selects for his peculiar enjoy- ment. And on these, art also may long labour, even to do mischief, without effecting it. Their channels are beyond the controul of the tasteless improver; they laugh at his masonry, as their margins refuse to bend to his line, arid his rule, and liis scissars. No perverseness of taste can formalize their bushes and their trees, nor gravel their precipices with serpentine walks. When all that bad taste can do is done, unless indeed it builds a pagoda or a painted bridge, nature still prevails, and renders art what it ought to be, its foil and its handmaid. In returning from this spot by the same path, the spectator must not fail to open his eyes to a view of no common splendour, which fronts him about the middle of this rude walk. It is rare indeed that a composition so perfect in all its parts is to be found, and not often that we see one equally magnificent and well-balanced in all its details. The deep dell beneath, and the bridge which crosses it, seem as if they had been bor- rowed from one of the landscapes of Claude ; while the trees and banks of the spectator's po- BLAIE. 187 sition which afford the foremost foreground, ap- pear as if they had been taken from the same source. A simple and broad knoll crowned with fine wood, forms a middle object, towering high into the sky, as in those landscapes which are far more common on canvas than in nature ; the deep wooded ravines of the Fender and of the Tilt be- neath it, catching deep and varied shadows, and prolonging the middle ground to the opposed woody hills that rise above. The rich vale of Blair, surmounted at one extremity of the picture by the long range of hills so often described, and ter- minating, at the other, in the blue and distant mountains where Schihallien rises last and highest, complete this admirable composition. Crossing the bridge, a narrow, ornamental, and winding footpath leads down a steep descent, accompanying the deep ravine which now con- ducts the Fender to the Tilt. On one side of this chasm, the precipitous sides rise, covered with wild tangled wood and shrubs, and green with the luxuriant plants that spring from every turfy protuberance and crevice on their broken faces. The trees of all kinds which crown the lofty bank above, form a transparent and broken 188 BLAIR. outline on the sky, sweeping down to join those of the Tilt below; and the more practicable declivity which conducts the path downwards, gradually quits the scattered masses of trees which attend it, to open into a richly-swelling and wooded field, extending far to the right, and relieving the almost continuous forest which co- vers the opposite hills. Two cascades fall in thin and scattering streams over the high opposed precipice; producing more variety than effect, and disappearing among the woods and shrubs that clothe them and fill the bottom of the ravine through which the Fender runs after it is lost to the eye. But by descend- ing into the bed of this stream, with an effort which will be amply repaid, the Fender itself will be found falling from beneath the bridge, in a cas- cade, which, though of small dimensions, is ex- quisitely disposed for beauty and effect, and which admits of being formed into a picture with unusual facility ; from the happy arrangement of the water, the depth and mass of the including boundaries, and the simplicity and breadth of the ornamental parts. Here also the botanist will find the rare and beautiful Convallaria verticil- BLAIR. 489 Jata, already mentioned as occurring near Dun- keld, and only yet known in this country in these two situations. Pursuing this downward path along the now deeper, but naked, chasm, we are led to the mar- gin of the Tilt, and to the summit of the cascade formerly mentioned as falling from the Fender into it. Here the scene, already described, is viewed under other forms and a very different aspect. To see it, however, under the most ad- vantageous points of view, it is necessary to descend within the bed of the Tilt itself, which is easily done, and where an extensive and safe footing will be found on a rude ledge of rocks that, projecting from the crags above, hang over its dark water. The grey naked scar which, on the opposite side, rises boldly on the sky, here seems to impend over the landscape ; but surmounted now by continued wood, and fringed by the delicate forms of the drooping birch. The rocky, but practicable, passage, ascends the course of the stream, over which it projects, for a short space; itself overhung by the broad shelf which rises above it, whence ancient ash trees, throwing their branches boldly across, form a green canopy overhead ; adding further gloom 190 BLAIR. to the obscure light that is reflected from the water, imperfectly illuminating these cool and shadowy recesses. The pictures thus formed are singularly adapted for painting; from the breadth of the rocky masses, the characteristic and decided out- lines, and the depth of broad shadow below, op- posed to the full light above : the fine forms of the trees, which extend horizontally in the fore- ground from the impending rock to define and enclose the upper edge of the picture, and the general balance and contrast of the whole being superadded to a variety, without confusion, of minuter ornament, and a perspective of the most favourable and practicable kind. Here also, access is afforded to the cascade of the Fender itself, as it reaches the Tilt, by a succession of falls, beautifully broken, the na- ture and forms of which could not be appreci- ated from the former station on the opposite side. The stream, descending from among the woods above, is heard rushing deep in the dark and narrow chasm, but as yet unseen. Here, whitening into foam, the water becomes at length faintly visible, illuminating the obscurity of the profound recess with its own pale light; till, BLAIE. 191 approaching the day, it breaks into successive cascades, boiling and eddying by degrees into the full light to form a green transparent pool, whence, gliding gently over the rock on which the spectator must take his station, it passes him, breaking suddenly into whiteness, and thunder- ing down into the dark Tilt below. Hence also the further course of the Tilt, for- merly invisible, is seen ; presenting an extraor- dinary and unexpected appearance. The deep and narrow chasm into which it enters on leav- ing this place where its waters had wandered unrestrained, is prolonged for some hundred yards in a straight line, retiring so directly be- fore the eye as to render the whole course of the stream visible. The trees which close it over- head, added to its own narrowness and depth, serve to exclude the light, except where, shining faintly on a few spots, it serves to indicate the presence and progress of the black smooth water, which, though flowing on, seems to rest undis- turbed in its caverned channel. The parallel sides of the fissure add to that singularity of cha- racter by which the river here emulates the canal of a subterraneous navigation. 192 GLEN TILT. GLEN TILT. THERE are three distinct ways ut this whole space, the views are grand and ich ; but in a character entirely distinct from ny thing which has previously occurred, and, GLEN TILT. 193 indeed, presenting features that could neither have been expected or conjectured, unless by those who may have ascended Craig Urrard. The landscapes thus obtained in proceeding along this road, do not differ so materially from each other as to constitute distinct pictures which an artist might wish to preserve. But they are sufficiently varied to keep up the attention ; while the grandeur of the style and the perfec- tion of the composition, will furnish at least one landscape, if not more, which no one, who has the power of retaining a memorial of it, will pass without a record. As the road holds its course high along the brow of this ridge, through cultivation or open pastures, and among scattered birch and alder, the lofty skirts of Ben-y-gloe rise above it, sweeping upwards to the hoary and stony sum- mit of Cairn Lia. Beneath, the valley, pro- longed in the simplest of forms, even beyond reach of the eye, displays the rocky and wind- ing course of the river, accompanied by fields and farms and trees ; the opposite ridge sloping high upwards in one continued mass of rich and varied wood, till a few scattered groups and single trees straying beyond its solid boundary, 194 GLEN TILT. c.wse it to blend with the green faces of the hill above, which, as it rises yet higher, gradually assumes the moorland character, terminating on the sky in a finely prolonged undulating line. A mountain torrent, ploughing its deep way, even from the sky to the depths of the valley beneath, attended by its own lines of trees and bv some picturesque bridges, serves occasionally to vary the uniform surface of wood ; which is still further diversified by the undulations that alter- nately catch deep shadows and strong swelling lights, and by the intrusion of patches of green pasture, or the casual appearance of reaches of the various roads which traverse this wild forest in ail directions. The simple and grand forms of the distant mountains, rising beyond all, add ma- jesty and diversity to the outline of a landscape, which, to a truly alpine character, adds a splen- dour of forest scenery, and an air of fertility rarely seen in the Highlands of Scotland. On the opposite ridge, another road, con- ducted at a corresponding elevation, commences near the church of Blair, reaching the bottom of the valley after a course of two miles or more, so as to cross the Tilt at Gilbert's bridge. From this road, also, there are obtained views, equal GLEN TILT. 195 in interest to the former, and although differing materially in their display, yet preserving the general peculiarity of character which distin- guishes the scenery of this place from that of every other glen in Scotland. Equally com- manding the valley, though it is here disposed in a different form, the stations on this side com- mand also a view of the long, solid, and lofty mass of Ben-y-gloe, instead of the detached forms of Ben-y-chat and Ben-venu, which, from the opposite side, constitute the mountain out- line. Farm houses, trees, and scattered groups of birch and oak, closing, and condensing into more solid masses as they tend downwards to the deep, rocky, and closely-wooded channel of the Tilt, cover the lofty and continuous face of the opposite ridge ; instead of the masses of dark forest formerly seen, which, now rising from the spectator's feet as he skirts the woods through green fields and open glades, or surrounding him on all sides as the road winds through the dense thickets, sweeps down, in a long sheet of rich dark colour, into the valley below. In all directions, roads branch from the main line ; all of them various in their characters and in the views which they afford, and all inter- K 2 196 GLEN TILT. esting in some way. Returning at higher ele- vations, alternately through forest arid open field, they look back on the rich vale of Blair, or, tra- versing in an easy ascent, reach the brown open mountain above, conducting the hunter to the haunts of the deer. Often, crossing some deep ravine by a bridge of appropriate character, or following- the course of a mountain torrent, they introduce the traveller to some strangely se- cluded and wild spot, where the brawling stream or the cascade, the fern-clad and mossy rock, and the open grove of odoriferous birch, serve to diversify the closer and more uniform scenery of the woods ; or whence some deep and naked valley, conducting a rocky stream along its nar- row windings, stretches far away, brown and rude, till it is lost among the intricacies of the distant mountains. One scene on this side especially demands the attention of the artist ; and it is well marked by the bridge which, being the middle one of three that cross the same steep torrent, forms the foreground to this splendid alpine landscape. Though the elevation is considerable, the point of sight is not so high as to prevent the picture from being displayed in a manageable perspective ; GLEN TILT. while a regular succession of objects conducts the eye uninterruptedly from the immediate fore- ground to the extreme distance, without that break of colouring and juxtaposition of far remote and discordant parts with nearer ones, which so often produce a bad effect and an unpleasing ap- pearance of false perspective. From the simple yet picturesque bridge which, thrown across the deep and rocky ravine, is half shrowded by the trees which shoot up from beneath and almost conceal the torrent, forming a solid mass of shade to the foreground, the eye is conducted over a diminish- ing succession of forest, and scattered trees, and undulating ground, intersected by roads and mountain streams, till it reposes on the noble, broad, swelling forms of Ben-y-chat, rich in deep brown and purple mountain hues, and diversified with spots and irregular lines of grey birch, which, uniting into woods at its foot, blend with the patches of forest and the variegated display of the vale below. The Tilt, wandering along its mazy and wooded channel, now plunging into the forest, and now emerging among fields and farm houses, adds richness to this part of the picture ; conducting the view to the fainter, but still wooded mountain declivities which enclose it as K3 198 GLEN TILT. far as the eye can reach, and which, gradually ascending, tower up to the lofty, blue and dis- tant summits, far retiring in long succession till they vanish in the horizon. The spectator who has entered Glen Tilt by either of the upper roads now described, may return by the lower one ; but as it is more usual to visit it by this route, I shall follow the remainder of the description in the same manner. The porter's lodge at Blair, whence this road proceeds, is scarcely left behind, when an arch, marking the exit from an open grove, introduces the visitor to the valley, and, with it, to a view, of great beauty, and well adapted for a picture. The elegant and extensive white mass of the farm square on the left hand, high pitched on a green hill above the woods, similar in design to that at Dunkeld, here forms a beautiful as well as an useful object in the landscape. The whole is of a close character, although extensive ; the wooded sides of the valley meeting below, sur- mounted by the lofty and distant mountains, and closing over the deep-cut ravine that conveys the river. A single turn of the stream, approach- ing the foreground, displays a glimpse of the GLEN TILT. 199 water struggling in darkness through its deep channel ; the rocky and vertical sides of which, rising for an hundred feet or more, are varie- gated with scattered shrubs and drooping birches, that unite at length with those of fuller growth which crown and overhang the margin ; throw- ing a profound shadow over the chasm, that produces a splendid effect, from its contrast to the full, broad, green lights and demi-tints of the woods above. A rocky precipice, rising here and there high above the rest, whence a birch of antient growth flings its silvery branches abroad, drooping down in long festoons of airy foliage, or an occasional green knoll projecting above the general surface with its crown of wood, unite, with all the various incidents derived from uneven ground, intersecting roads, broken banks, wild clumps 1 of natural forest, and single trees dispersed with all the profusion and care- lessness of nature, to ornament and contrast the breadth and repose of form and colour that cha- racterize the leading details and main body of the landscape. The road hence, for some space, presents per- petual variety and interest ; without, however, discovering any scenes so peculiarly distinguished 200 GLEN TILT. from those so often described, as to require or admit of a particular description. Passing along the edge of a wood bordered on one side by an extensive field, which emulates an ornamented park, in its boundaries, its loose clumps of wood, and its noble detached trees, it enters a continu- ous forest, sometimes enclosed almost from the sky, then catching a glimpse of the mountains, and occasionally admitting a momentary view of the river, as it runs, far beneath and through the closing woods, in its rocky and turbulent channel. A bridge of elegant and characteristic design, a praise due to all those which have been constructed by the native masons of this country, soon leads the road to the opposite bank of the river; displaying, at the same time, a view of its picturesque course both above and below ; a sight seldom obtained x during this part of its This is immediately succeeded by a cascade, falling from the hill which overhangs the mar- gin of the road, out of an obscure cavity, and crossing the path to plunge into the Tilt. Ob- jects so minute as this is, are very apt to elude notice or to be overlooked, in such a country, and amidst the superior magnitude and the pro- GLEN TILT. 201 fusion of the surrounding ones. This miniature of a waterfall must not, however, be thus neg- lected ; its disposition being as picturesque and full of effect as it is singular. To those, at least, who do not require from this species of scenery the extraneous and much less valuable qualities of magnitude and noise, this nameless and scarcely noticed object will furnish a scene which, if it be not easily forced into the service of a picture, will afford much pleasure to the eye of taste, with some instruction to the artist, in colouring, composition, and effect of shadow and light. From the green broad road which succeeds to this spot, tangled with honeysuckle and wild roses, and bright with the snowy flowers of the Parnassia, and with the golden saxifrage that crowds its mass of yellow blossoms beneath every rill that trickles from the rocks, the spectator will now take a parting view of the lofty wooded surface on his left, which ascends steep along the face of the hill, appearing, from this low station, to lose itself on the sky. Here he will also re- cognize the bridge whence the elevated view over the upper part of the valley was formerly obtained, and will be struck, at the same time, by K 5 202 GLEN TILT. the singular effect of this mountain torrent ; which, deep and dark, appears to descend from the summit in one vertical line, crossed at wide intervals by three bridges, which, elevated high above him, seem as if built in succeeding stages directly above each other. Gilbert's bridge, where the road will again conduct him across the Tilt to the hill formerly described, is here the limit of the denser forests which line the valley ; though, for a long space further, it displays woods of birch, of smaller extent, with a profusion of scattered clumps and single trees. Hence the general character of the scenery changes ; the valley becoming wider and more open, and the river, which had formerly been concealed, displaying itself throughout the re- mainder of its course, in an endless variety of rocky channel, cascade, or continuous rapids; now skirted by trees, then bare, sometimes meandering through green meadows under low banks, and, at others, forcing its deep way through a narrow and wooded pass, or beneath impending cliffs, where the deep dark pool suc- ceeds to the turbulent torrent or the foaming waterfall. GLEN TILT. 203 The farm of Aucbgowal affords one picture, which must be taken as an example of what it would be impossible to describe in every remark- able detail that occurs. It is in every sense a picture ; forming an example of landscape com- position which, while it is a perfect specimen of ornamented alpine scenery, is unexceptionable in the minutest of its details. The spectator can scarcely miss the true point of view, which is well marked by an ash tree of elegant form, and by the fine brown mass of Ben-y-chat, rising above a green holm where the river makes a turn under the shadow of the rich trees that skirt its banks. Those who are unused to the torrents of a mountainous country, will here be surprised by the extensive devastation that attends the course of those which descend from the mountains op- posite. The geologist will find in them, matter for somewhat more than mere wonder ; as he will, in all those marks of the power of water, which are here displayed in the profound ravines that intersect all these hills, and even in the very shape of the valley itself. If also he finds matter of peculiar interest to himself in the long tract of limestone which forms the southern side KG 204 GLEN TILT. of this valley, and in the singular appearances which are produced at the junction of this and the other stratified rocks with the granite, the ordinary spectator will be interested in the quarries of beautiful marble which the place affords, and in the various and splendid minerals which it produces. A rock of yellow marble, not yet wrought, projects above the road, close to the very small cascade just described; but the quarries that have been opened, are situated further up the valley than the point just mentioned, at Gow's Bridge, which is partly constructed from this beautiful material. It appears on both sides of the water, but abounds most on the south bank, where the largest quarry lies ; presenting dif- ferent varieties, of which the chief are of white, variously mixed and mottled with pale yellow, grass green, darker tints of the same colour, and grey. This marble excels in beauty all the analo- gous substances of British origin, and is, indeed, rivalled by very few of foreign growth, while it may be procured of any dimensions. The white is less abundant ; while it is also of too large a grain for sculpture, and subject to be stained with light grey. Collectors of specimens may GLEN TILT. 205 here load themselves with the endless variety found among the workings of the quarry. The same spot has produced, and still produces, a greater variety of Tremolite, and of larger di- mensions and more splendid appearance, than had ever before been known. The mineralogist, who only knows minerals in the shop of the dealer or the cabinet of the collector, will also have the satisfaction of seeing Sahlite in large beds ; and, to pass over the other more obvious productions of this valley, which is among the most interesting to a geologist throughout Scot- land, an industrious and acute observer will, in different places, discover Steatite, Asbestos, Talc, Cyanite, crystallized Chlorite, Titanite, Sphene, and Actinolite, together with many interesting varieties of nearly all the primary rocks. The landscape about Gow's Bridge is not less interesting than many others which this valley produces; whether viewed from above, so as to include the steep hilly boundary and the prolonged vista of wood and field, or examined in the deep recesses where the river foams along the rocky chasm, amidst the shade and orna- ment of woods. It is unnecessary to dwell on scenes, the enumeration of which would, at the 206 GLEN TILT. same time, be interminable : but the artist, or the spectator, who must now have learnt to dis- cover the concealed beauties of an alpine coun- try of this character, can scarcely be at a loss. If he chuses to wander down the right bank of the stream for half a mile, he will find his la- bour repaid, not only by his intricate ride through open and green groves of birch, but by the cascades, or rather rapids, of the Merk, and by the wild valley which leads from this spot to the mountains. In the Criny, situated at a short distance above Gow's Bridge, the geologist will find detached and perfect junctions of the stratified rocks, with the whole mass, as well as with the veins of granite, highly explanatory of the interesting structure of this whole district; and, here also, the mere searcher after pictur- esque beauty will discover objects for his own peculiar amusement. But the visitor ought not to pass this place without taking advantage of a road which leads from the bridge up the southern face of the valley ; since, from that position he may see it in a new and quite different point of view, forming a spacious and bare green cavity, strik- ing, alike, from the extreme simplicity of its GLEN TILT. 207 form, and from the equal simplicity and grandeur of the mountain boundary. At the upper end of this open space, stands Forest Lodge, dedicated to the hunting of the deer which roam at large over the extensive range of mountains around that forms the forest of Atholl. That beauty which is properly picturesque, has now ceased ; but the green meadows which here bound the winding course of the Tilt, its margin, occasionally bordered by rocks and trees, and the high impending hills on each hand, varied with bright green pasture and brown moor, and broken by scars and preci- pices, still afford an interesting and a pleasing ride. A painted cascade, appearing to fall over a dark grey precipice high on the mountain above, may attract the notice of those who, with ideas borrowed from Vauxhall, may imagine that art has been doing what Nature ought not to have forgotten. But she has herself been the artist ; the calcareous waters which descend along this channel when full, leaving their white in- crustations when it is dry, and performing their work so well, that it is, at first sight, not easy to discover the deception. Those who admire the lapidifications of wigs, and such like appropriate 208 GLEN TILT. transmutations as delight the swarms that crowd Matlock and Buxton, may here, if it so pleases them, sit under endless waterfalls, with the same happy results to their own caxons. Glen Tilt, ever grand, and ever new thus far, once more assumes a new character at Forest Lodge ; but it is renovated for the last time. The lofty and sudden acclivities of the hills on each side, rise almost like a wall ; making even- ing at noon day, and meeting below so as scarcely to allow room for more than the passage of the river. Hence, the valley is continued for many miles, with the same general character, though with such minuter variations as might be expected. The traveller who has taken this book as his guide, counsellor, and friend, is not likely to prolong his excursions further: but if, deeper smitten, or more ambitious, he should reach the Tarff, he may ascend the hill, and there see Glen Tilt stretching in a straight line from him, far, far away ; a huge ditch, since no better comparison will, entreated, come, unfathomably deep, immeasurably long; rising, like the valley of Mirza, in obscurity, and lost in equal mist and doubt; a channel fitted to excite the cupidity of canal mongers, or to GLEN TILT. 209 waft the Danube and the Rhine and the Nile together; a trench which Jupiter might have fortified against the Titans, if there had ever been Titans, and if Jupiter had studied Coe- hoorn. The hills around, and the valley itself, afford numerous attractions to the botanist. The Saxi- fraga oppositifolia and the Silene acaulis, rarely descending so low, grow at the very water's edge near Forest Lodge, where the green hills bear many of the rarer Orchideae that affect calcareous soils, together with the beautiful Dryas octope- tala. Above, and on both sides of the valley, is found the Azalea procumbens, with Cornus Suecica, Rubus areticus, Anthericum calycula- tum, and Betula nana; besides many of the most common alpine plants, which I need not enumerate ; to which may be added, as among the rarer Lichens, the Islandicus and the Nivalis. The geological details are far too important and numerous for such a brief enumeration as could alone be afforded here; but the principal appearances which belong to the junctions of the granite with the strata, and to the penetration of veins, will be found at a picturesque bridge 210 GLEN TILT. just above Forest Lodge. The calcareous strata are here traversed by the granite veins, as well as the associated hornblende schist and other rocks; and somewhat lower down the stream there is a mass of white marble similarly inter- sected ; the whole of them displaying, in conse- quence, a great variety of interesting appearances. In a general sense, these phenomena are rather too abstruse for those who have only a super- ficial acquaintance with this subject ; and the more experienced will not consult such a per- formance as this for geological information. But there are readers and travellers, of as many pursuits as the world has tastes and phy- siognomies; and if I have taught some of these how they may defraud the powder tax by petri- fying their wigs with lime, I may here tellothers where they will find a cauldron of cold boiling water. It is on a rock in the very middle of the stream at this place. A particular medium state of the water is required to produce this ap- I>earance ; but when it is present, the resemblance is absolutely perfect. This pool or cauldron, deep, and, without overflowing, full, emulates most exactly the boiling of a kettle on the fire ; GLEN TILT. 211 the effect being probably produced by means of air and water forced up from the fall, through some very narrow and invisible fissure in the rock. There are few travellers, be they geologists, or botanists, or dilettantes in the picturesque, or nothing at all, either of these or of any thing else, who will not take some interest in the deer and in what belongs to them, from the rude mountain forest itself to the well-roasted and smoking haunch. This enormous tract of wild mountain, which may be seen by those who choose to ascend the hills, extends over nearly an hundred thousand English acres, and is esti- mated to contain about six thousand deer. Here they range imcontrouled ; an example of what Scotland once was, when Ossian is supposed to have written, and long after. Those who have not read of the huntings which did once befal in this country, had better read Pitscottie, or Taylor, or both. If they have not the originals, they will find them quoted in every tour book, in much poetry, and in som novels, until one is absolutely weary of meeting the same friends at every turning of a corner. A very valid reason for not quoting them again; al- though to do so, would be an easy way of 212 GLEN TILT. gaining a few pages. Good fortune on the part of the traveller, or good nature on that of the Duke, may often permit, even the accidental passenger to partake of the spectacle; yet, Lord of the forest as he is, he cannot always make his wild tenants appear at his bidding. Even those who have eaten of his haunch and drank of his cup, and they are not few, must submit to the chances of this war. The stray visitor will have cause to be pleased, though he should only see the distant herd, and only see that, crowning with its long line of ant- lers, the brow of the mountain; projecting them, like a wintry forest, on the outline of the sky. He will be more fortunate should they form their line into a column to descend the hill, as the alarm of men or dogs drives them to the station of the hunters. Then perhaps he may track the herd by the undulating stream of mist which rises from them as they smoke down the steep descent, and, crossing the ravine, or plunging after their leader into the river, ascend again ; occasionally disappearing, then seen by inter- vals, as their prolonged files sink into the gully or rise on the knoll ; trailing along, like the smoke of a furnace before the breeze, a curling wreath of grey vapour, which, ascending, unites GLKN TILT. 213 with the mists of the hill as they vanish along its brow or are lost in the clouds which rest upon it. His fortune may yet be better, if a deer, separated from the herd, should be brought near him to bay. While the valley round re-echos to the deep baying of the deer- hounds which surround him, afraid to advance, the spectator may perhaps see him high on some broken bank, or beneath the shelter of a rock ; or, if he is yet more fortunate, in the middle of the stream, proudly looking round from some high and huge stone on the animals, who, stem- ming the wave, assail him on all sides. There, if he please, he may meditate, like Jacques ; or, as is more probable, like Sir William Curtis and the wiser men of the world, who would rather eat twenty deer than weep with one. Which- ever plan he may adopt, he and I alike must take leave of Glen Tilt. 214 THE BttUAB. THE BRUAR. FALLS, AND SCENERY. TULLOCH HILL. IT is unnecessary to do much more than merely to mention the falls of the Bruar. These are invariably visited, even by those who often enquire for nothing else at Blair ; and it has rather been the object of this book to point out those places which had been comparatively over- looked, or which have remained unnoticed and unknown. He who visits the Bruar, turns his back on the beauties of Blair ; nor is it long before he finds himself on the verge of an uninteresting country ; this spot being the last effort at orna- ment, as well as the last specimen of picturesque scenery, that occurs before entering on the dreary and endless moors of Dalnacardoch and Dalwhinnie. It is therefore more striking to THE BUDAR. 215 those who arrive from the north, and who, be- numbed by the iteration of barren rudeness, for which there is neither grandeur nor novelty to atone, hail it, like an Oasis in the desert ; as the untameable and unhappy landsman, whom a whole Atlantic has not reconciled to heavy lurches, narrow births, bilge water, and the bucket, thinks no landscape so captivating as the barren rocks of Scilly or the wild cliffs of the Lizard, Those on whose recollections the pre- vious images of all that Blair and all that its neighbourhood contain, are still vibrating, must let down the tone of their expectations, if they would extract from it all the pleasure it can afford. An examination of the cascades of the Bruar is rendered, not only very commodious, but pleasing, independently of their own interest, by the numerous walks and plantations which surround them, and by the convenient seats that not only mark the principal points of view, but offer an occasional repose, which the length and steepness of the paths render not unaccept- able. Of the three falls, the middle is the principal in dimensions. The slaty character of the rocks, broken into innumerable small parts, 216 THE BRtTAR. and therefore deficient in breadth of manner, does not form a very favourable boundary to the falling water ; and here also we miss that pro- fusion of varied and rich ornament which at- tends the different scenes formerly noticed ; the tangling shrub, the impending tree, the grey trunk or withered branch bending across the stream, and all the profusion of fern, and grass, and rush, and moss, which add so much of beauty to similar spots throughout this country. For the oak and the ash, the alder, and the hazel and the birch, and all the wildness of brier, and honeysuckle, and rose, we must accept the fir. As far as its age yet allows, this tree has done all it can for the Bruar, and time must do the remainder. Time will, however, do much, and even far more than is anticipated by those who have only seen this spot, and who are not familiar with what may be called the fir land- scape of the Highlands. It is in the woods of Rothiemurchus, and in Braemar, that we must learn what the character is which this tree can confer on that scenery of which it is the leading feature and ingredient. Amid these dark and solemn woods, or under the wild and wide- spreading branches of some ancient pine, over- THE BRUAR. 217 shadowing the ground with its solid masses of gloomy foliage, the cascade, like other objects, receives a new character. Among these silent forests, where an unvarying, twilight, sobriety of colour, seems ever to reign, where not even a bird is seen to flit among the branches, the bright lake no longer enlivens the surrounding scenery, but receives, itself, a gloom, which it reflects but to double that in which all is alike involved. Even the brilliant azure of the sky is unable to give to these half-wintry scenes the gaiety which it confers on all else ; partaking of the cold and more than chastened colouring and lights, on which, no less than on the broad unvarying uniformity of tint, the solemn repose of this class of landscape depends. Thus a day is coming when the cascades of the Bruar will acquire a distinction of character which they have not yet gained ; and when, independently of their own interest, they will possess the merit of being utterly distinct from all the other examples of waterfalls in which this country abounds. The prophetic eye of the painter can, even now, anticipate this event; and, even now, his pencil, which waits not the tardiness of Nature, will enable him to produce 218 THE BRUAR. that, of which the fulfilment shall be to our. children, and to the heirs of him who rescued these scenes from the barrenness of the dreary moor. Those who have read the works of our native poet, Burns, (and who has not ?) need not be told that the suggestion which produced these scenes, is supposed to have originated with him. We need not enquire too minutely into the truth of this opinion ; but we need only look round on Dunkeld, as well as on Blair, to be convinced, that the person who executed the improvements of the Bruar, could not have been much in want of such a suggestion. Still, where there is much to be done, something may easily be overlooked ; while familiarity will often blind the eyes of a proprietor to that which arrests the attention of a stranger ; who may thus be of use, just as the critical spectator is to that painting on which the eye of its own artist has dwelt too long. It is thus that even the Author of these pages has imagined im- provements on the scenes, both of Dunkeld and Blair; though conscious, at the same time, that it is no more easy to impress a proprietor with the same anticipations, than it is, in the moral THE BRUAtt. 219 world, to produce uniformity of thinking among mankind. But it is necessary to take leave of the falls of the Bruar ; and I need only add, that those who would see these cascades in perfection, must chuse the season of rain, if a choice is allowed them. The Bruar owes much to its water : it can scarcely possess too much ; and will not bear to mourn its fountains dry. The same hand which ornamented this re- mote appendage to the beauties of Blair, has recently undertaken to do the same for a portion of the Garry, at present naked. Of that which is but in embryo, nothing need be said ; but those who will take the trouble to cross the bridge which leads to Glen Erockie, about a mile further north than the Bruar, and then proceed down the stream to Struan, will find their labour repaid, not only by the continuous rapid of the Garry itself, running deep in a rocky ravine, but by the very picturesque, though simple and confined scenery about this village. A pe- destrian might hence return to Blair on the west ide of the river, and with some variation of amusement ; but those to whom a high road is necessary, must return as they came. t* 220 THE BRUAR. There are some points of view which ought, however, to be indicated, as affording fine land- scapes of the distant scenery; and they can scarcely be discovered except in returning, when they all face the spectator. The character of the distance is nearly the same for all ; but in other respects they display important differences. The chief and ever-conspicuous object is the unchangeable Ben Vrackie ; but it would be unjust to this mountain to complain of its perti- nacious presence, as it is always elegant and graceful. The fine vale of Blair, from the pass of Killicrankie upwards, so often now described, constitutes the remainder of this rich distance. On the immediate acclivity which leads to the cascades of the Bruar, a very perfect and charac- teristic foreground occurs to this picture, in the deep rocky ravine with its foaming torrent, and in the firs which crown its margin. The bridge by which the road crosses it below, together with some mills and other objects, forms a middle ground equally appropriate, which graduates well into the succession of diminishing parts that conducts the eye to Blair. In more positions than one, these mills themselves, with the bridge, the rocks, and the turbulent water, and with all THE BKUAK. the wood work, and the wheels, and the drip- ping, brown stones and green mosses, will afford pictures even more attractive, to those whose eyes and notions only range within the limits of a Flemish pannel ; nor will they want attraction to those, who, in allowing to Ruysdael, and Hobbima, and Waterlo, and Wynants, such praise as their limited ambition has laboured for, reserve an admiration of a very different cast and complexion for that scenery which Salvator, and Claude, and Turner have produced, and for that which only these men could represent. To conclude this expedition and return the tourist to the comforts of his temporary home, I must be content with naming only one other point, where this distance finds fresh foregrounds and fresh middle grounds to produce some highly-finished landscape compositions. The ferry across the Garry will form the mark for it ; and, in the intricacy of the trees which skirt the road or overhang the river in careless group- ing, and in the picturesque banks of the stream itself, with other accessary circumstances that need not be named, the artist will easily find more than one composition which he will gladly treasure up among the stores of his portfolio. L3 222 BLAIR. Although different views of the valley of Blair have been obtained from the various points already described, it is absolutely requisite for those who would form a perfect conception of it, to ascend the hill of Tulloch, on the south, or west side, of the water. It is neither a long nor a laborious walk, even to the 'summit; but, at a point far short of that, some views will be obtained that will amply compensate for more labour. The scenery at the southern side of the ferry is itself interesting on a small scale, as are many minor landscapes by the river side, and on the face of the hill, which it would be impossible to particularize. But the principal object must be sought in that wide green field which bears, among many noble ash trees, the semblance of a castle, emblem of feudal sway. Among these trees, which, in themselves, are studies that no one will, voluntarily, leave without a record, lie the foregrounds of the extensive view for which the visitor has been brought hither. If this picture be somewhat too geographical in the point of sight, as well as in the central details, it is by no means unfitted for painting; while its beauty and variety, added to its majestic features and wide expanse, will, at any rate, render it a sub- BLAIR. 223 ject on which he who has reached this place will long dwell. The summit of this hill, which is readily ac- cessible, even on horseback, presents the same view, but from a birdVeye elevation, and in far greater detail. No longer adapted for a picture, it is nevertheless even more magnificent; dis- playing, as in a camera obscura, all the compli- cated parts of the vale of Blair, and every intri- cacy of its highly ornamented grounds, with the rich course of the Garry, from the brown moors of Dalnacardoch even down to the pass of Killi- crankie. It is only hence, and from the station below, just described, that an adequate idea can be obtained of that screen of hills which bounds the eastern side of this valley ; extending from the falls of the Bruar to Ben Vrackie, and in- during the fine wooded hill of Urrard, the rich grounds of Lude, and the remainder of this bold and highly ornamented declivity,as far as the grey obscure fissure that forms the pass of Killi- crankie and terminates the view in that direction. The opening of Glen Tilt, branching off, dark and deep, with all its closing woods, forms an important feature in this boundary ; stretching away far into the mountains, and displaying, in L4 224 BLAIB. towering succession, the huge masses of Ben-y- gloe, hitherto unseen, with the fine conical and un- dulating forms of the lofty hills that extend wide over the northern part of the Forest of Atholl, and, far beyond all, the dim shapes of the wild and congregated mountain masses, that rise above the sources of the Dee, bearing, even through the summer, their bright spots of winter snow. It affords a singular and an useful contrast to this splendid view,, to turn to the wild heathy moors which extend to the westward and south- ward, brown and bare for many a mile. There is no spot, at least within the range described in this work, which, with so little labour, will con- vey a more perfect idea of that desolation of solitude added to grandeur, of that interminable extent and endless barrenness united to the ma- jesty resulting from simplicity and uniformity of shape and colour, which is so essentially and deeply characteristic of a land of mountains. The lofty and insulated mountain summit conveys a very distinct and far different kind of impression. On that, the spectator seems to him- self elevated above and detached from a world with which he can, at that moment, have little in common. AH is distant, and faint, and shadowy ; BLAIR. 225 if it interests him, it is as a picture, not a reality. Here, he is as an inhabitant of the world of mountains about him ; an atom in an enormous void of all the traces of human art or human presence. This is indeed to be a solitude ; a solitude without limit, boundless alike and va- cant, the solitude of Nature herself. It is the wide desert, the rocky island in the interminable sea, the endless ocean of mountains, it is to have the untenanted world, and only the world, for a prison, that form solitude. From this station, as the purple heath around is succeeded by the brown moor and browner bog, as the minuter forms of rock, and ravine, and bright pool and wandering torrent, become con- founded in the uniform darker tints of the receding moorlands, and as the colours of well- known objects unite to blend with the deep tones of the mountain grey, till, growing fainter and fainter, theyvailish in the misty blue of the at- mosphere,' c ft&' < ^e wanders unchecked over a far-spread desert of mountain and valley, follow- ing in endless succession till they terminate in the shadowy and expiring peaks of the remotest Highlands. But this, and such like sights, are only for him who, though neither lunatic, lover, L5 226 BLAIR. nor poet, takes a perverted view of the true nature and constitution of things. The truly sensible man, who forms a just estimate of the world, finds his head in a fog and his heels in a bog ; wonders whence all these fine words, and where- fore; sees only barrenness, thinks only of star- vation, and hastens down the hill to his dinner. Unless indeed he chuses to follow this road to Loch Tumel. He may either do that now, and return by another of a far different character, or he may reserve it as a mode of returning, should he be pressed for time, after having, like Adam, forgotten all time, among the scenes to which he will hereafter be introduced. But there is a shorter expedition on this side of the Garry, from which no one, who has taste to relish it, can be excused, and which will return the visitor to Blair by the high road; reserving Loch Tu- mel, as it well merits, for a separate day, BLAIR. 227 SOUTH SIDE OF GARRY KILLICRANKIE CASCADE OF URRARD. A ROAD, admitting even a carriage, leaves the ferry below Blair, and, following closely the river side, joins the Tumel road to the westward of Garry bridge. To the charm of being hitherto utterly unknown, and even unsuspected, the ecenery along this ride, adds that which re- quires no such concurrent advantages to. re- commend it. At the same time it is proper to add, for the visitor's convenience, that it is most advantageously viewed by proceeding down the course of the water, as the chief pictures face in that direction ; and that he may return across Garry bridge by the high road, or, with some variety of incident, on the same side and in the same manner as he went, so as to well occupy a forenoon. The valley of Blair is seen in this manner, x.6 228 BLAIH. under an aspect totally new; though the un- changing Ben Vrackie may still be recognized. Yet, being differently combined, even this steady ingredient of the landscape assumes a novelty of aspect, united to an importance even greater than before, on account of the far greater space which it occupies. It is indeed a most essential, as it is a most magnificent, feature ; and it is partly to the difference which it exhibits from these points of view, that the landscapes on this side of the water owe so much of their novelty of character; the rest arising from the entire display of the richly-wooded hills that extend from Glen Tilt through Lude and Urrard to Killicrankie, and from the proximity of the road to the margin of the river for a considerable space. Every point is beautiful, and the distinct land- scapes which occur are numerous; too numerous to be named, much less described. But I must call the visitor's attention to that part of the river opposite to Alt Clune ; well marked by a deep pool where it enters a pass among rocks, and by a group of fine ash trees, through which the road is conducted. It would be difficult, anywhere in Scotland, to point out finer examples of what may be called open river scenery, than those BLAIR. 229 which occur on every point of this stream, even from Blair to Killicrankie. But the landscapes at this point are peculiarly perfect in style and composition ; adding variety to grandeur, and cultivation to wildness; uniting the broad mag- nificence of blue towering mountain, wild moor- land hill, and woody and green acclivities, to all the richness of the plain, to noble trees in every variety of form and disposition, and to the banks of a stream alternately winding through rich and cultivated meadows, or foaming among rocks, or plunging from the cascade to the deep dark pool, or sleeping silently under high banks, and re- flecting every branch and leaf of the fine trees by which it is overshadowed. The artist will find, wherever he pleases to seek for them, foregrounds that leave nothing to be desired and nothing to alter ; alike consistent with the general landscape, aud perfect even to their minutest details: trees of the finest charac- ters and in endless forms, whether grouped or single; rocks, of which every fragment is a study, as the collective masses are finely disposed ; with all those varying and minuter circumstances of broken bank and wild plant and tangling thicket, and a thousand other nameless accidents, 230 BLAIR. of which he knows so well how to avail himself. It is right to mention here, that the deep pool which, on this side of the Garry, forms a station for so much fine landscape, is equally a station on the opposite side of the water ; pre- senting the same general scenery, yet with im- portant variations, and, what is of much more moment, affording a considerable variety of rocky foregrounds of the finest imaginable cha- racter. In returning to Blair by the high road, the visitor has only to quit it for a few yards, to discover this spot ; where, if it be part of his pursuit to make drawings, he may pass no small part of a day with amusement and profit. There is here a salmon fishery, as there are others in this neighbourhood, as well upon the Tumel as on the Garry; while this fish is occa- sionally taken, even in the Tilt. Of course, none of these rivers are very productive in this respect; as the fish have a long gauntlet to run from Dundee, and as not a great many can contrive to reach the remote branches that contribute to form the many-headed Tay. These fisheries are rented by the different farmers on the banks ; but I believe that the brothers of the angle are never refused leave to try their fortune even on BLAIR. 231 salmon. Still less, is any obstruction thrown in the way of fishing for trout, whether in the streams or in the lakes ; nor is there any. situa- tion much better adapted than this entire neigh- bourhood for those personages who find solace and delight in waiting at one end of a rod for a rise or a nibble, while the black hackle or the un- lucky worm is dangling at the other. Of all these waters, however, Loch Tumel is that which pro- duces the finest trout ; as does that river upwards to Loch Rannoch, and even Loch Rannoch itself. It is fortunate also for these philosophers in pis- catory patience, that the season of Loch Tumel, in this respect, is peculiarly late, so as to be in perfection during the usual period of the autum- nal tours : while it it is not a bad addition to the merits of this lake, that the flavour and quality of its produce are peculiarly fine. This same district, that is, from Blair to Dal- whinnie, is also celebrated for its grouse-shooting; but, of course, under the usual restrictions to the friends of the several proprietors. It is, indeed, in this respect, the paragon of .all Scotland : the moors belonging to the Duke of Atholl and the Marquis of Huntly, in particular, abounding in game to a degree which occurs no where else. 232 BLAIR. This arises, not merely from the ordinary prac- tice of preserving, but from the deer forest; which, being excluded from general shooting, on account of the deer, even to the proprietor him- self, forms a natural preserve, as well from sportsmen as from sheep; which latter are the great cause, in other parts of the country, of that dimi- nution of the game which is now becoming so sensible everywhere. I should also add, while on these subjects, that all these rivers produce the pearl muscle, and, many of them, in considerable abundance. Many of the country people make a petty trade of this fishery; and there are often offered for sale, pearls of a very good quality, and at a very mo- derate price. The greatest dealer in this line, however, is a certain Mac Alpin, at Killin ; a genuine specimen of a Highlander ; an ex- cellent fiddler withal, and, what is not much worse, a very ingenious and a very honest fellow. I owe him as much immortal fame, at least, as these pages are likely to confer on him; and hereby he is accordingly entered on the im- perishable record. That I may shorten the details respecting this ride, I must now suppose that the spectator KILLICKANKIE. 238 has reached the hilly part of the road, which, overlooking the valley, is conducted beneath the lofty precipice that forms so conspicuous an object from Alt-Girneg. From this singular and wild pass, the vale of Blair is seen under a new aspect, as are the mountains that, hence, continue the chain of connection, as it had never been seen before, from Ben Vrackie to Ben-y* gloe. Every new turn and every few yards of as- cent, teem with fresh beauties; nor are there many points in this tract of country, rich as it is in all the variety and modes of landscape, that afford more magnificent combinations of moun- tain forms. The proximity of the huge broad face of Ben Vrackie impending above the deep pass, gives to these pictures a grandeur of man- ner rarely found, even in a mountainous dis- trict ; impressing the spectator, at the same time, with that sense of the absolute magnitude of these objects, which so generally vanishes in the foreshortening of even far loftier mountains* The combinations of masses equally broad and simple, retiring in succession beyond it, pre- serve this grandeur of character in the leading features; while the deep shadow of the pro- found woody chasm that conducts the Garry, 234 KILLICRAKKIE. relieves the breadths of light and of demi-tint that rest on the broad forms of the hills, as its solid and continuous wood embellishes, by con- trast, the endless multiplicity of objects, the wooded knolls, and scattered groups, and trees, and farms, and fields, which, lying almost be- neath the spectator's feet, stretch far away in diminishing perspective along the bright wander- ing course of the river, till the view is closed by the dark pine forests of Blair and the last faint blue of the western hills. It is on scenery of this class and character, that the variations of light produce their chief effects; nor will the spectator know how, duly to appreciate the whole merit and beauty of these scenes, unless he has viewed them in all lights, and, most of all, when the setting sun, throwing the shadows of the western ridge across the pass of Killi- crankie, casts it into a deep abyss of formless shadow ; glittering on the windings of the Garry, and tinging the richly crowded and dazzling objects that attend its course, while, gleaming in one broad light on the opposite hills, its last ray vanishes on the lofty summit of Ben Vrackie. This, and more, may be seen without de- viating from the road ; since views, of great effect KILLICKANKIE. 235 and of the richest alpine character, are also ob- tained by looking in the opposite direction, or down the course of the Garry as it issues from the pass. But it would be inexcuseable to leave this place thus, half unseen. Let the tourist, therefore, dismount, reckless of time, which, like the Garry beneath him, is hurrying to that dark abyss whence it will not, like that Garry, again emerge, and, heedless of the transient mishaps of bogged shoe or torn galligaskin, make his way into the woods that overhang the pass of Killicrankie. Here he will find mossy stones and banks of thyme, where he may sit without any companions but the mountain and the mountain bee ; where he may look from a dizzy height, over a precipice of forest plunging deep down into the invisible abyss beneath him, and where he must imagine the river flowing, since, like the Spanish fleet, it is not in sight. Here, too, he may moralize, like Mad Tom on Dover cliflT, and with somewhat more of reason ; since even the mountain goat would hardly dare to gather samphire here ; and here, perchance, he may see the gay barouche, diminished to the size of Queen Mao's midnight equipage, a mus- tard seed in the mighty void, following its in- 236 KILLICRANKIE. visible horses, with invisible motion, along the white thread which undulates on the face of the mountain. If he does not see and feel to much more effect than I have written, he might as well have gone to the top of the Monument, and speculated on the long legs of Sir Thomas Gresham's grasshopper. He who is ambitious of emulating Caesar, in considering nothing done till it is finished, will not yet quit this hill till he has ascended a road which winds along the base of the steep precipice, on which an obelisk, or rather a cairn, marks the highest elevation. At that cairn let him rest ; and, taking his tablets from his pocket, sharpening the point of his pencil, and making all other usual note of preparation for writing a description which will dazzle the eyes and con- found the judgment of all the subscribers to Mr. Sams^s circulating library, very quietly put it into his pocket again. There are things in this world, unattempted yet in prose or rhyme ; and which are very likely to remain so. Those who have, in present possession or future command, that, of which every one who visits this part of the world should secure a proper store, will find a mountain road that will KILL1CRANKIE. 237 conduct them back to Blair by the same side of the water; but high on the face of the hill, over such moorlands, and among such rocks, and across such wooded ravines, and amid such trees, and farms, and fields, and in sight of such views as never were dreamt of, and never will be. The less judicious, whose minds are like eight-day clocks, wound up on Sunday morn- ing to run down on Saturday night, happen what may, conforming to nothing, providing for no contingencies, but labouring against wind, weather, and events, because they have prede- termined to pare their nails at a particular inn, on a particular day, at a particular minute, must put aside this cairn, as they will have to put aside many other things, and return by Garry Bridge to Blair. I shall now, however, presume, that this one day has been bisected, or multiplied, or swelled out in some manner, so as to have been converted into two; and, upon this hypothesis, shall lead him, for whose especial use I have taken all this trouble, into those recesses which were promised when first we proceeded together on our road to Blair. From the bridge across the Garry, there are ZOO KILLICRAXKIE. two views well worthy, even of the pencil. This romantic bridge is placed, and even designed, like almost every bridge in this country in which an architect, or a gentleman, or a conceited road- making engineer, has not interfered, as if every Highland mason had been himself spawned on the principle of equilibration, and had passed his life in studying the fitness of things. He fits the river, and the road, and the bank, and the ravine, to say nothing of the carts and horses, better than Palladio could have done, (at least if he built the Rialto) : and, what is much more to the purpose, he fits them all, just as if he had had nothing else to do than to make friends with nature^ as well as art, and to embellish a landscape which, for aught that has ever been written to the contrary, he thinks no more of than his trowel. Of the two views obtained from the bridge, one looks down the stream flowing deep beneath, through the narrow chasm which, rising in high faces of broken rocks, is crowned, at the summits, by the thick woods which cover the face of the hills above on one side, and which, on the other, extend in variety of confusion up the valley of the Tumel; the junction of this river with the KILLICRANKIE. 239 Garry vanishing, just at the point where it is formed beneath the rocky and wooded moun- tain that closes in upon Fascally. Upwards, one of the far-distant conical summits of Ben-y- gloe terminates a view, not very dissimilar, but of a closer character ; tracing the course of the Garry as it flows down through the pass, deeply buried in woods, and foaming along its dark and rocky channel. Of the bridge itself, dif- ferent views can be obtained, both above and l>elow, all, in their several characters, interest- ing ; nor is it difficult to descend into the bed of the stream at a short distance above, so as to see it far elevated, and springing on each side from the high vertical faces of the chasm, which close in on the water and cast on it a profound and perpetual shadow. Quitting the high road, a green alley will be found parting from it at a lower elevation, and wandering through a wild thicket of birch and alder, nearer to the river. This is the ruin of the ancient road; but it is still passable on foot, and will conduct the spectator through a series of wild and romantic scenes, alike unknown and unsuspected. Few, few at least of those who 240 KILLICEANKIE. know, even at a distance, where the elements of landscape lie concealed, and few, possibly, of those who have no better quality than that pro- pensity to pry into creeks and corners which dis- tinguishes cats, have passed through Killicrankie without casting a longing look at that dark pool where the river, forcing its way through a narrow and high rocky pass, promises strange things. Since the aera of creation, it has had the reputa- tion of being inaccessible; and hence that increase of interest which belongs alike to all that is for- bidden and unattainable. The path in question conducts to the side of the river not far from this place ; and, by clambering over the rocks, there is no difficulty in finding a passage along its bed, so as to reach at length a wild foot-path that leads to Alt Girneg. To omit much striking scenery which occurs before reaching this spot, there is no one who will not think the little labour he has bestowed on this attempt, well repaid by the number and nature of the pictures which it affords. A series of cascades and of rapids, of dark pool and smoothly-gliding river, high rocks rising above And covered with woods, or thrown in enormous KILLICRANKIE. 241 masses across the river ; these are objects that would seem to promise, in words, nothing but what the spectator may think he has seen under every possible form before. But the variety of Nature is endless; and, with the same materials, she produces that infinitude of combination and fo.ms, no conception of which can be conveyed by a mere enumeration of these materials, vary their epithets as we may. The seclusion and stillness of this most unex- pected scene, powerfully aid the effect resulting from its fine forms and romantic character; giving to these a kind of moral interest which constitutes a large part of all the pleasing im- pressions that are produced by natural objects, even on those who, unaccustomed to analyse their feelings, are unaware of the cause from which their chief pleasure is derived. Every thing bears the marks of force and ruin : of the rending of the solid rocks and the devastations of the torrent. An enormous mass, stretched across, and narrowing the stream, lifts high its broken pyramidal summit; and heaps of frag- ments, piled in confusion, lie beneath the dark precipice that overhangs the water. In the rush- ing of the river as it issues below, and in the M 242 KILLTCRANKIE. more intermitting sound of the cascade above, we recognise the causes of this devastation. But the devastation seems alike past and forgotten ; the work of other ages. The ruin reposes in peace ; and, for the turbulence which we thought to find, we hear only the distant and faint indi- cations of former violence, like the murmur which reminds us of the retiring storm. Deep in this noble amphitheatre of rock and wood, we view the river rippling in bright gleams as it enters through its narrow and dark cavern, over- hung with trees, then spreading out into a wider stream to murmur among the fragments that im- pede its course, and sending its miniature billows in succession to break on the white pebbled shore, till, collecting its glassy waters in one black and silent expanse, it plunges into the narrow chasm to be seen no more. All is stillness and solitude and repose ; a silence rendered more impressive by the gentle murmurs of falling and rushing waters as they intermit on the- breeze, and by the aspect of past violence; by the presence of all the elements of force and ruin. Where the deep shadow of the lofty woods darkens on the water, every leaf is reflected in soberer colour- ing; the bright sparkling waves that follow the KILLICEAKKIE. 243 plunging trout disturb the picture but to collect again : opposite, the broad sunshine tinges the high grey rock, the feathering fern, and the bright crimson of the wild rose, silvering the grey branches of the aspen, as they hang with all their trembling and transparent foliage over a dark and dripping cavern, where the green damp covering of moss and the tall pale grass that shuns the light, are contrasted by the glossy and broad leaves of the wood rush, cushioned on every projecting fragment, and starting from every crevice. The gnats, dancing their bright wings in the sunshine, complete the picture of peace among images of rudeness and turbulence, of summer calms amid the ravages of the wintry torrent. The artist will here find abundant occupation for his pencil ; scenes combining all the varied minuteness of rich detail which renders close scenery so captivating, with the utmost simplicity of fine and bold forms and the most exquisite colouring. As the points of view cannot be over- looked, it is unnecessary to detail them. On emerging from this recess, through an intricate and tangled pass of rock and wood, the valley of Blair again comes into view, seen now from a M2 244 ALT G1KNKG. very low point of sight, and under a new aspect. The scenery here is rendered interesting, not only by this rich distance, but by a cascade over which the Garry falls in foam, through a singu- larly intricate and narrow pass among the rocks. He who can trust to the steadiness of his head and the firmness of his foot, may almost place himself in the midst cf the roaring water as it descends from above in all its violence to plunge into a deep abyss beneath him. The scene is not ornamental ; but it is impressive, and even grand ; adding a variety to that often-recurring feature, the cascade ; a feature which is apt to pall, in a very unexpected manner, on the eye of those to whom its novelty once held out endless charms. A foot-path through a wild field, varied with rocks and coppices and trees, will conduct the spectator hence to Alt Girneg, and to the high road, at the distance of only a few hundred yards; and, in a wooded ravine with its accompanying mill, and in the rich confusion of the surrounding scenery, will afford the artist employment. If the water be low, he may cross this small stream itself where it joins the Garry, and thus ascend it to the bridge. In either case, he ought to ALT GIRNEG. 245 examine the banks of the water, from this junc- tion to a point above the bridge, since it presents a succession of beautiful scenery in this class, that is unequalled any where in the neighbour- hood of Blair. I know not indeed that all Scot- land produces a spot which, in the narrow limit of two or three hundred yards, affords so many distinct pictures and of so rich a character. The bridge itself is an important object, whether seen from above or below, and from many points on both sides. The splendid ash trees, in themselves studies, that surround it and skirt the green meadows, which, on one hand, and the rough rocky banks which, on the other, bound this little river, are sources of endless variety, as they combine with the bold objects around, with the high precipice formerly described, the hills that close over the pass of Killicrankie, the mountain valley whence this river descends, and all the minuter and crowded objects of rock, and bank, and woody knoll, and mill, and distant forests retiring till they vanish on the high acclivities. As a specimen of alpine river scenery, this spot is as singular as it is rich and romantic ; while the pictures which it affords are perfect in an un- common degree ; since nothing is wanting which M3 246 ALT GIRNEG. an artist could wish, and as there is little present that he would desire to remove. To say that he may find occupation here for days, and that he may fill his portfolio with drawings, is not to over-rate the fertility of Ait Girneg. The cause of the great fertility of this place in landscape, arises from that very crowding of nu- merous and different objects which renders this spot at once so romantic and so singular. At the same time, the various objects are all so near to the eye, that their effects in the picture are no less striking than the magnitude of the changes which they produce by slight alterations of the spectator's place. It is a kind of close scenery, if such a term may be applied to landscape where the objects are of such magnitude; but it is the close scenery of mountains and precipices and torrents and wood ; not that which a prac- tised artist finds in those minutiae of landscape so often overlooked by ordinary observers. Al- together, it is by much the most romantic and beautiful spot on the Blair road ; yet it is one which, however it may, and must strike, even the most rapid traveller, will not be appreciated ex- cept by those who delay at it; from the mo- mentary and transient appearance of many of URRARD. S47 the scenes. That general similarity which they seem to possess when thus viewed, disappears when more critically examined : every picture is found sufficiently distinct from every other, and every one is, almost without alteration, adapted for painting. There is yet one scene which must be visited before returning to Blair ; and the path to it leads from the bridge just mentioned. The walk through the grounds ofUrrard is, in itself, beautiful ; not only from the disposition of the paths and woods themselves, but from those views of the distant scenery which, under some new forms, are always present. While on this subject, I may add generally, for those who may have time, that the whole face of the hills, from this point to Blair, is accessible, by means of roads, either private or public ; and that it pre- sents endless beauties and incessant variety. The ornamented grounds of Lude, in particular, de- serve to be named ; as do the farms of Strath Groy, and others, which occupy the acclivities at various elevations. The cascade of Urrard, which is the object here immediately under review, lies on the river 248 UREARD. of Alt Girneg ; and the mass of water is there- fore amply sufficient for those peculiar effects which are expected from waterfalls. The height of the fall, nevertheless, is inconsiderable ; but as far as the disposition of the water itself is con- cerned, whether in the breaks of the cascade, or in the descending stream, or in the departing torrent, it leaves nothing to desire. A rustic and well-conceived bridge of rough wood, not only gives access to the best points of view, but adds materially to the picturesque effect of the scene. The whole is full of character, and pre- sents as striking an example as it is possible to conceive, of the endless resources of Nature in landscape. Though, to all the cascades already enumerated, the spectator should have added an acquaintance with every other example in Scot- land, still the novelty of this one would excite his attention, as its beauty would probably place it among the very first in the scale. Well dis- posed as the water is, the scenery would itself be beautiful, even were that wanting. The far-retiring and deep shadowy channel out of which it suddenly appears, the forms of the rocks, and the profusion of trees and rich orna- URRAUJ). 249 ment, are in themselves sufficient to constitute a romantic landscape of the first order in close scenery ; while, to the most happy disposition of light and shadow, there is added a tone of colouring which seems quite peculiar to this place. There is an effect in cascades of this class, where the surrounding scenery is capacious in proportion to the fall, and where it is at the same time close, or where a small torrent falls through a wide and shadowy chasm, that is not ill de- scribed by the cant term, magical, of painters. It is, in fact, the effect of painting united to the reality of nature. The real objects, we know, are before us, yet they are all subdued to the colouring of art ; conveying the impression, perhaps yet more accurately, of a landscape viewed in the camera obscura, or in the reflec- tion of the black mirror. This character also belongs to the fall of Moness ; to the second one, where a similar general disposition of the parts, although on a much smaller scale, prevails ; and it appears to be produced by a vapoury atmos- phere, which harmonizes all the local colours to one leading hue, just as they are in painting, M5 250 UKHARB. or as, in the optical machines, they are reduced in tone by the diminution of the light. This same cause, the subdued and general light, resulting, in these scenes, from moderated sun- shine and the multiplicity of reflections produced from objects of various colours, is perhaps also an accessary in producing this beautiful effect.' TCMJBL, 251 FALL OF THE TUMEL COILIVROCHAN LOCH TUMEL. THE last division of scenery which remains to be seen from Blair, comprises that which extends from Garry Bridge to Loch Tumel ; arid it will afford ample occupation for a day, even to the mere spectator. The artist may pass many days among it, and still abandon it, like the story of Cambuscan bold. It is an useful piece of information, mechanical as it may be, to say, that the distance from Blair to where Loch Tumel is first visible, is ten miles : the necessary walking will add two or three more, and the carriage road is excellent. The great fall of the Tumel has long been an object to all visitors, because it has been de- scribed in all the tour-books. Thus the forward and the noisy never want their fame ; while the *6 252 TUMEL. wonderful scenery which is continued all along this valley, remains unrecorded and unknown ; unseen, unbepainted, and unbewritten. It is full time that it should have a better historian than the Author of these rambling pages. Though the cascade of the Tumel is not the only object here, it is barelv just to re- mark, that it would not have been overrated had it been described by far other quills than that which manufactured the Tourist's Guide, and been painted by another sort of pencil than Paul Sandby's. It is truly a fine object; whether to the mere devourers of waterfalls, or to those who know better in what the main merit of this class of scenery consists. Assuredly, it would be rendering it high injustice to compare it with any fall on the Clyde, though far inferior in height; and, with Fyers, it can stand in no competition for good or evil, so distinct are their characters. The mass of water is very con- siderable, although the height does not exceed fifteen or sixteen feet ; as the Tumel is bere a wide and a deep river. Hence it possesses all that turbulence and noise which, in a large stream, are iudispensible, because they are ex- pected parts of its character ; but which, on a TUMEL. 253 smaller scale, are commonly too insignificant to atone for the want of those accompaniments which, in these, constitute the far greater portion of the interest, and which none can dispense with, whatever be the dimensions. Those who speak in personifications, may, if they please, call the cascade itself the soul of such a picture. But this is a case in which it is easier to dispense with the soul than the body : the waste of un- attended white foam is but a disembodied spirit which excites no interest after the first moment of surprise : its colours dazzle and its noise wearies ; and when we have ceased to speculate on its resemblance to magnesia or whipped cream, to wonder how salmon get up or boats come down, we would willingly give, like Alonzo, half a dozen acres of it for a rood of good land- scape. Such are the testimonies of those who have visited Schaffhausen and Niagara : of the judicious few at least ; the only testimonies which, in Hamlet's opinion, need be recorded. Though the cascade of the Tumel falls white from the moment that it quits the pool above, the disposition of the water is singularly beauti- ful. Nothing can well be imagined more grace- ful than the forms which it assumes, nor than 254 TUMEL. the manner in which the several parts arrange themselves into one fine and broad composition ; the shape of the rocks beneath causing a variety of surface so great, as to produce, even amidst the mass of snowny whiteness, a depth of shadow sufficient to display them all in perfect relief. This is infinitely the rarest feature which is found good in a cascade ; and, among the larger and more turbulent, it is seldom that we find any thing but a shapeless mass of white : it is fortu- nate if any thing occurs to produce something like definite forms, before the falling water joins the similar confusion below. To say that the Tumel is, in this respect, perfect, is not praise too great ; and it is for this reason that this cascade would command admiration, even were it divested of much of the splendid accompani- ment which it possesses. That alone would con- stitute a fine picture ; and combined as the whole now is, assuredly the fall of the Tumel must be allowed the pre-eminence in Britain. As to the composition of the surrounding parts, it is unexceptionable, in the various foregrounds which different stations give, and in the banks and rocks immediately adjoining. It is also rich, and full, and romantic, even in the middle TUMEL. 255 ground ; but there is a want of balance in the picture, caused by the towering height of the hill on the left, which produces an unpleasing effect, for which it is difficult to find a remedy by any mode of introducing the objects on the right hand. A walk by the side of the Garry, entering from a gate near the end of the bridge, leads to this cascade. If the visitor returns to the same point, he should take a new path to the left, which conducts over a wooded eminence, displaying a most magnificent and unexpected view of the pass of Killicrankie. It is well re- presented in Robson's Sketches of Scenery in Perthshire; and that popular and well-known work will almost supersede the necessity of any very particular notice of it. We here form a very different notion of this pass from that which is procured along the high road that leads through it ; although it is only the details of the right hand hill which are visible. On this de- clivity, the road is seen winding along in a manner that adds much to the general pictu- resque effect ; the birch woods which skirt it and rise in scattered forms up the face of the hill, continuing the general character of birch 256 TT7MF.L. forest which stamps all the scenery, and har- monizing, as well in colour as in composition, with the whole of the surrounding landscape. In the distance, the pyramidal summit of Cairn Gower is seen forming the termination of this singular and striking vista ; while, near at hand, the irregular and rocky ground, and the flatter lands, crowded with trees, produce a middle ground of extreme richness, and not less singu- lar than rich ; the whole including more space, and comprising a greater multitude of objects without distraction, than are usually found in countries of this character. But, from the fall of the Tumel, the visitor has another choice of walk, which he should by no means neglect. This is the course of the river upwards to the house of Coilivrochan ; pre- senting a continued succession, for nearly two miles, of river scenery, of an uncommon and new character. The rocky and brawling bed of the Tumel is here, in itself, beautiful through- out, and often disposed so as to afford pictu- resque rapids, witli bold and precipitous deep banks, formed of rocks and wood intermixed, and in a state of the highest natural ornament. The whole is enclosed, on both sides, within TUMEL. 257 these wild and romantic woods ; where antient and fine trees often overhang the water, so as to pro- duce frequent and marked changes of character ; while some distant glimpse of the impending rocky and wooded mountains, or the descent of their picturesque declivities to the river's margin, adds to the general variety, so as to produce a succession of landscapes, of characters strongly marked, and not less strongly distinguished from each other. Where an occasional glimpse of that battlemented house is caught, its effect is extreme- ly striking, and adds much to the interest of this wild scenery ; while, in one or two places, which cannot be more particularly indicated for want of marks, the results are pictures which no artist will pass without a careful record. To those who are thus capable of appreciating this spot, singular among scenery where almost every thing is marked by singularity, it must be left to dis- cover what it would require pages to point out in all its details of variety and beauty. The traveller who pursues this scenery, may follow the line by the water side thus described, or he may proceed along the upper, and high road, from Garry bridge to Coilivrochan house. In either case, different stations will be found, 258 TUMEL. above the high road or upon it, and near this house, which will afford, not only a good gene- ral notion of the form and disposition of this richly wooded and extraordinary valley, but will present some landscapes of the very first order, in point of extent of woody range, romantic mixture of trees and rocks, and grandeur in the mountain forms. To specify all these points, would be equally difficult and unnecessary ; but one, in particular, may be indicated, because it is easily found in consequence of its proximity to the burying ground, and because the view which it affords is perfect in its kind ; compre- hending, in the most complete detail, and under the most picturesque arrangement, all the dis- tinguishing characters and parts of this magnifi- cent landscape. Though the woods here consist solely of birch, there is nothing wanting to give them the full effect of the finest oak forests; owing to that solid roundness of swelling outline by which they are distinguished when thus form- ing continuous woods, and to the undulating masses in which they are disposed in conse- quence of the irregular nature of the ground. If they have less of depth of tone, it is well com- pensated by that grey and tender hue which so TUMEL. 259 well harmonizes with the general tint of the mountain scenery. The depth of the valley, and the strong sha- dow which marks the course of the river run- ning far below, produce a fine repose through a picture where the infinite division of the parts would seem, at first, to render it unattainable ; and this is aided by the height of the hills on all sides, of which, under every position of the sun, some one screen forms a continuous mass of shade. The distant and bold declivity of Ben Vrackie, ploughed deep by a dark ravine which descends from the summit, and sprinkled with dark forests of pine and with scattered trees, forms the great mass of the distance ; yet so retiring on one side as to admit a view of the remotest hills that bound Strath Tay, with a glimpse of all its minute forms of wood and cultivation, dimly seen through the blue haze. The opposed mountain screen rises steep and rocky ; its intri- cate surface, and equally intricate outline, dis- playing a succession of brown heath, and green knolls, and high scars of rock, and furrowing torrents, intermixed with patches of birch wood, and sprinkled with scattered trees, which gradu- ally uniting in one continued forest below, plunge 260 TUMEL. into the deep chasm that conducts the river. To the right, and behind, wood upon wood, and rock piled on rock, enclose the landscape, rising high upon the sky ; while beneath, a continued succession of swelling knolls and deep valleys stretch away in an endless forest ; the forms di- minishing as they recede, from the silvery tree which, near the spectator, hangs its dark brown branches and airy foliage over the grey precipice on which he stands, to the faintest form that vanishes in the blue distance. With singular felicity of accident, the rude battlements of Coi- livrochan house rise among the woods ; betray- ing their long range only by an occasional glimpse, and thus, while emulating some castle of the days of yore, adding the charm of ancient romance to a scene peculiarly adapted to the pen of the novelist ; exceeding, perhaps, the powers of the painter. Beyond this point there are two different roads, the one conducting to the ferry below, and to a farm house situated on the declivity of the hill, and the other holding a higher course. Each presents a perpetual succession of romantic scenery, though the character becomes much changed. But the visitor will not pass without TUMEL. 261 a remark, the little and singular green glen of Fincastle, in itself beautiful, though not pictu- resque ; and serving to relieve the eye from the dazzling effect of continuous forest and rocky mountain. Through this little pleasing valley lies a road to Rannoch, now superseded by that which the traveller is here supposed to quit, and which conducts through the valley, and thus into the great vale of the Tumel. Yet those who have time, will find an hour or two well bestowed in proceeding so far along it as to surmount the hill, and thus to gain a view of the general vale of the Tumel, different from that which they will obtain by holding on the way which they have here departed from on the left hand. The splendour and brilliancy of this rich and green valley are thus seen in greater detail ; nor is the position too elevated for the pencil. From this point also, Schihallien, always majestic, is per- haps viewed even to greater advantage than from any other place : all the wood which covers the margin of the lake and the green meadows that surround it, being visible, diminishing in a succession of trees more and more minute, till at 262 TOMEL. last, as they rise up the blue acclivities of the mountains, they are lost in the purple haze. Hence also, he whose time does not urge, should ascend from the valley to the house of Fincastlc, singularly situated in a recess of the mountain acclivity that conducts towards Blair, and surrounded with ash trees of the most lux- uriant and picturesque forms. He, indeed, should traverse the whole of this hilly land, di- recting his steps by the groups of ash which he will see at a distance, scattered over it. Not only does this ride furnish a relief to the eye from the almost wearisome richness of all the preceding scenes, but the trees are in them- selves studies: while in the torrents, and broken ground, and other minute circumstances by which they are attended, an artist will tind many valuable and interesting subjects for the exercise of his art. It would be an endless task to name the points where new landscapes occur in returning and proceeding now onwards ; since, in both direc- tions, whether looking up the course of the Tumel or down, the views vary at every angle and turn of the way. But there are here two TUMEL. 263 roads, the one at a lower level than the other. From the lowest, the pictures are less grand than on the higher elevations ; but one point at least must be excepted, where the first glimpse of the fine blue cone of Schihallien is seen forming the distance to the long woody vista of rocky moun- tain and forest. The valley, in this part, has assumed a new character. Simpler in its form, the remote boundary is still the noble conical outline of Ben Vrackie, with its dark woods and its deep ravines ; while, from the shadowy course of the river beneath, wooded precipice and naked rock and solid forest rise along the romantic ac- clivities, till the deep torrents, with their attendant waving and broken lines of wood, the wild groups of loose birches deep sheltered in some shadowy hollow, and the diminishing forms of rocks and brown heathy knolls vanish on the sky. This lowest road, I must also remark, con- ducts to a ferry and a ford across the Tumel, which will enable the traveller to pass to the opposite side of the river, and thus to gain access to new scenes, which I shall shortly notice. About this ferry, and at points too numerous to mention, there are many other interesting views of the river and the valley; all sufficiently dis- 264 TUMEL. tinct and full of character, yet, as consisting, ver- bally, of the same elements, incapable of being so described in words as to appear different. In all these scenes, however beautiful and ro- mantic the naked forms of the mountains are, the birch woods are an essential ingredient; since they are the cause of that richness which is so peculiar to all this valley, and of that grace and lightness which are so singularly combined with the massive and somewhat ponderous sim- plicity of the ground. Where they form con- tinuous woods, the roundness of their forms, and an apparent compactness of foliage, cause them to produce the same rich swelling effect, and to assume the same wavy and intricate surface, as ancient oak woods; nor indeed, except in their superior lightness and delicacy of colour, would they be distinguishable at a distance, by an eye unused to them. When single, the delicacy of their ramifications, and the long flowing and silvery lines of their trunks and branches, are not less beautiful and characteristic ; while, from the positions which they have found for themselves, whether solitary or in groups, they effect what no art could, and produce what Nature could not here spare without suffering severely. TUMJEL. 265 It is indeed the land of the birch : that is ever the soul and the spirit of the landscape ; and to rob it of this tree would be to deprive it of the better part of its value and beauty. Yet I fear that the axe has already been laid to its root : While the pen was in my hand, I heard its sound; and I much suspect that before these pages shall see the light, the traveller who trusts to ray description will have reason to complain that he has been disappointed in the reality. Yet he must not complain of him who has faith- fully described what he saw ; a world of forest and beauty ; but of the poor avarice which, for the sake of a few pounds, has robbed, and is fast robbing Scotland everywhere, of ancient orna- ments that can never be replaced. The wood has unfortunately been discovered to be fit for herring casks : and now, not only the axe, but the circular saw mill, is at work everywhere: the latter machine adding to a temptation which, from the low price of the wood, was formerly insufficient. We cannot expect that proprietors will sacrifice their property lo the amusement of others ; but, in these cases, and for a paltry profit, they are destroying their own ; as it is round their own houses, or on the most orna- N 266 TUMEL. mental part of their possessions, that they are committing this ruin. The coppice grows again, but the birch never ; so that the destruction is complete ; as the pasturage of cattle in these un- enclosed lands prevents the young plants from ever springing again. For nearly five miles, which is the distance from Garry bridge to the margin of the great vale of Loch Tumel, the general features thus described continue without any variation of the leading characters. Still the spectator is buried in woods and surmounted by rocky hills : still he sees before him the same valley, unterminated, and, apparently, interminable. He looks for- ward to no change, and has almost ceased to feel any impression from that which has for some time palled on his eye ; when, in an instant, and as if by magic, he finds that the whole valley has vanished as if it had never existed, and he sees spread far beneath him, in gay confusion, the rich and distant vale of the Tumel, with its bright and beautiful lake, its towering Schihallien, and its far distant range of blue mountains. It is impossible to imagine a surprise more complete, or a change of character more entire and sud- den; such is the contrast, and so perfect, between TUMEL. 267 the close, rocky, woody glen, and the spacious range of open and distant scenery, rich h\minute wood and checquered cultivation and green meadow, and bright with its wide silvery lake and its meandering river. It is unnecessary for him to proceed further in this direction, as this is the last point to which this guide proposes at present to conduct him on this road. But that he may view this scene with all the advantages in his power, he must now enter a field on his left, where, on a green hill, he may sit at his leisure and contemplate all that he sees, displayed in a manner and form still more perfect. From this eminence, a rapid and almost pre- cipitous descent, of intermixed grassy slopes and woods and rocky faces, allows him to look down on the Tumel itself, as, at a distance of many hundred feet beneath him, it issues brown and dark from its glassy lake, among rich woods and scattered trees, meandering in endless variety till it is lost in the valley which he has just quitted. Turning back, he may now contrast this valley with the scene before him ; nor is the contrast, thus made, less remarkable than at first, though now divested of the effect of surprise. Here also 26S TUMEL. the valley affords an object even more picturesque than formerly; deeper, broader, more simple, and more majestic, but still equally wild and equally ornamented. On the opposite side, the fine screen of wild hills which bounds the vale of the Tumel to the southward, is surmounted by the rugged outline of Ferrogon and the beauti- fully simple and conical form of Schihallien ; the whole valley being detailed in all its green and splendid richness of wood and meadow and culti- vation, fading at length from the eye towards the blue mountains of Glenco ; the opposite boundary presenting a continued succession of birch forests and cultivation and farms, rising upwards to the brown moorland of the hills, and gradually dis- appearing among the hazy tints of the horizon. The lake, reflecting every tree on its margin, spreads blue and calm far beneath the eye; while, immediately under our feet, the high over- shadowing rocks and trees blacken its bright glassy surface, as, working its way through the narrow pass, it forms the river, long undistin- guishable from its parent lake. The triple and blue mountain seen in the remotest distance, is part of that ridge of which Buachaille Etive is the chief, and which separates that wild valley from Loch Etive. Thus, from this station, we almost gain a sight of the western sea, which is only thus excluded by the altitude of. the mountains of that rude country. Between the end of the vale of the Tu- mel and that distant object, there thus lies the moor of Rannoch, with its lake; bjit the latter is invisible, except from the higher summits which surround this position. It is not, however, a very distant ride, even to that lake ; and the traveller who is so inclined, may easily compass this object, and return within the day to Blair, by proceeding through Glen Erockie; as the dis- tance does not exceed twelve miles. Mount Alexander offers considerable temptations to this expedition, as does the whole course of the Tu- mel, to those who chuse to proceed from Fin- castle, 'formerly mentioned, or from the very point where the spectator is now supposed to be. But, thoughrthis. expedition lies beyond the limits which I had propose^rto myself, I trust that the reader will not be displeased with a slight notice of it, before returning to the description of the remainder of the scenery, still unseen, which lies on this portion of the Tumel. Supposing that the traveller has reached the N3 270 TUMEL. military road which leads from Amulrie to Dalnacardoch, by proceeding from Blair through Glen Erockie, it is adviseable to follow it to Tumel bridge, and thence to trace the course of the Tumel, upwards to Mount Alexander ; after which, he may pursue the high road to Kinloch Rannoch. From Tumel bridge, the river is no longer that splendid stream which he had found it, either in the open vale beneath, or in the deep glen of Coilivrochan. But if it is a wild and rocky torrent, it is also a pictu- resque one ; producing, through one portion of its course, a succession of rapids and cascades, of a very peculiar character, and attended by much beauty. A few of these latter are far from inconspicuous, even as waterfalls ; the breadth of the river insuring a considerable tur- bulence, and the height often varying, from two or three, to five or six feet, or more. They are also numerous, and are various in their appear- ances ; presenting, nevertheless, one leading cha- racter of wildness and rudeness, and being quite dissimilar to any of those which have been al- ready noticed. It is chiefly in a deep rocky ravine that they occur ; the perpendicular sides of which are TUMEL. 271 finely disposed for effect : the masses and frac- tures of the rocks presenting broad and bold features, while the minuter ornamental parts, harmonizing perfectly with the general charac- ter, consist of huge fragments, detached by the violence of the current, thrown into the stream, and adding much to its fury and turbu- lence, as they do to the variety and picturesque effect of the different scenes. Nor is this all ; as, from the crevices and surfaces, wherever they can find root, fir trees of wild forms and ancient growth are seen starting everywhere ; throwing their twisted and fantastic arms about, and aid- ing, with the ruggedness and general nakedness of the rocks, and the whiteness and rage of the river, to produce a class of scenery which will remind the artist of the Norwegian landscape of Ruysdael, but which is much superior to any of the well-known compositions and portraits of that painter. One point is peculiarly striking, where the river divides round an insulated and lofty rock crowned with firs ; and, here, an artist who will be at the trouble of clambering about the various accessible points, will find abundant employment for more than a long day. 272 TUMEL. The scenery of Mount Alexander is of a still different order, not only from that now de- scribed, but from all that has preceded ; but it is the last point of the attractions of the Tumel. The house itself, though mean in style, is a valuable object from many stations: its situa- tion being also peculiarly striking and splendid. Thus it forms, with its surrounding wooded grounds, which occupy a bold rocky hill, the central object of a rich and singular landscape ; whether as seen in descending from the road above named, or from the flat towards Loch Rannoch, or from other points which I need not detail. The background is the ever-magnificent and graceful Schihallien, now seen impending high above all ; rising suddenly from the very house itself, and richly covered with scattered woods and rocks, as it sweeps up from Cross- mount, itself an important object in the land- scape. This region, indeed, affords few more striking pictures than those which may here be procured : while they have the merit of being entirely dis- tinct from every thing which the tourist has seen before; even though he should have followed TUMEL. 273 this guide through every step of its progress. Few landscapes convey a more striking impres- sion of space ; and of that space which does not arise from assuming high stations. The views are nowhere geographical : but there is always a multiplicity of objects presented to the eye, in consequence of the variety and the disposition of ground, and the spacious and brilliant breadth of the mountain acclivity ; producing that mag- nificence which must strike the most ordinary spectator, and which the artist well knows how to value. The landscapes of Martin, far less esteemed as yet than they merit, will immediately occur to the critic in art; and will explain, better than words, the peculiar character of this spot. There is much scenery also here, in a style not much unlike that of the interval between Loch Tumel and the Garry; yet sufficiently different to occupy and interest the spectator who will seek it in that deep and wild interval where the Tumel forces its way between this hill and the foot of Schihallien. But I cannot afford to dwell on it; and shall only add, that although the traveller may prolong his ride to Loch Ran- noch, now visible, it offers few temptations, as it is very deficient in picturesque beauty. N5 274 TCJMEL. As far as the objects of ordinary tourists are concerned, and as far as their resolutions are likely to extend, the task which I had undertaken ought to be completed. Nothing remains for those persons but to return from each scene, disap- pointed, to dinners over roasted and over boiled, peevish, weary, and belated. It has never been otherwise and never will; because every one ex- pects to see what never was and never will be. Of the ten persons who make it matter of necessity, or leisure, or fashion, or imagined health, or ima- gined taste, to visit what the world visits, nine reckon, chiefly, on what they may have to boast of having seen, or on good inns and good dinners, or on shooting grouse, or bobbing for trouts, or on fatiguing horses and postillions, or on any thing else but that for which I have torn my coat, worn out my shoes, and inked my fingers. The fractional parts which make the odd one, may contemplate these things to somewhat belter ef- fect, each in his several way. But there is not one of the whole ten, were even Claude himself again alive and of the number, who will not be disappointed; and, simply, because he forgets that no one person can carve out imagination for another, according to the cut and pattern of his TUMKL. 275 own. What is much worse, there is, among the mob of human imaginations, a conspiracy against the unfortunate author, to exceed whatever is told. Let his writing be like that of Gray and Scott, or let him equal Wheatley, or stand on the highest ranges of the ladder with Virgil and Milton, or on the bottom stave with Crabbe, or let his descriptions be dressed by a good receipt like Mrs. RatclinVs, or by a villainous one like Gilpin's, or be as outrageous as the mad prose of a thousand and one novels, or of no as- signable character; in short, let a man write what he may, every one will expect, from the reality, somewhat more than he finds, and every one will rise disappointed. The imagination runs riot in these matters. If it is but a ghost, we look for him in a white sheet and saucer eyes, breathing blue lights out of his mouth and nostrils; if it is the Devil, we figure him with tail and horns and cloven feet, and are angry because he comes in the shape of a very personable and well-bred gentleman, dressed in a fashionable suit of black. Some wise man, sensible of these oppressive evils, which beset ajike those who write books about lakes and those who pay for the boqks and a sight of the 376 TUMEL. lakes too, advises authors not to write such de- scriptions as may tell people what they are to see. \ happy thought ; saving infinite toil to writer and reader, and easy equally to our carriages and our pockets, by reducing us to the quintes- sence of all knowledge, condensed into Paterson's Road Book. But although this tour ought thus to be finished, there is something in the nature of a postscript that must yet come lagging in behind. There must be some spirits in the world, who will not leave this place without casting back a longing, lingering look; persons who know no use for time but to occupy it well, whose clocks are not in their stomachs, and who do not exactly think that Nature is only rock, wood, and water, water, wood, and rock. For these, there is yet a day in reserve. If I have not already said, that no part of all Scotland contains, in so small a space, scenes so grand, and so various, as this short portion of the Tumel, I have been unjust to it. Such a censure would be still more de- served from those who may follow the track which I am now about to point out; since they will assuredly see that, to which little, even in the romantic scenery of Loch Cateran, can be TUMEL. 277 compared, for combinations of variety with grandeur. The scenes in question lie in the same valley, but occur on the opposite bank of the river, where there is also a carriage road. Yet as it is necessary to cross one of the fords of the Tumel, it is more convenient to make this expedition on horseback. If the water be low, the ford of Fascally is preferable, because it introduces the visitor more readily to the scenery : when high, it is a hazardous passage, and that on the Tumel should be chosen. Having attained the opposite side, the same time will conduct the visitor to Loch Tumel as sufficed for that purpose before. But he will see things under so new a light, that he will sometimes doubt whether he is in the same place. Yet I think he will not long doubt of the superiority of the views on this side; while he may be very certain, that he is looking at what has never yet been seen by mortal man, except by the writer in his hand, who thus claims the merit of a discoverer. To make dis- coveries in our own island, has a grandiloquous sound, it must be admitted : but if it is a dis- covery to see what the natives of a country alone had seen before, and what none had ever looked 278 TO! EL. at further than as it might offer so much pasture for so many sheep, the formidable word must even be allowed to stand for what it is worth. He who claims to have discovered Van Diemen's Land or Owhyhee, did no more. In the first portion of this road, taking it up from the ford of Fascally, the tourist will gain a second access to the noble fall of the Tumel, and under new forms and new combinations. It is true that he cannot well place himself so near to the cascade ; but he will obtain new pictures of nearly equal interest, and with variations in the foreground, in particular, which are very interest- ing and very striking. In this way also, he changes the surrounding landscape, even in a greater degree than he does the waterfall ; so as to give the whole a totally new character, and thus to add, almost a new cascade to his qata- logue and his collection. Hence the road winds up the hill beneath the wild overhanging rocks and woods, in an intricate and romantic direction : and it is here that it will remind the traveller most particularly, in case he should have seen it, of the steep acclivity of Ben Venu about the Coir-nan-uriskin and the pass of Balloch-nam-bo. Thus it produces TUMEL. 279 many of those peculiar landscapes which belong to mountain declivities, but which occur, in this style, nowhere in the Highlands, except at the place now mentioned, between Loch Earn and Comrie, and near the western Loch Leven. Nor do I know that these spots, beautiful as they are, are superior to this one for romantic grandeur; while, if the whole space to Loch Tumel be included, they fall short of it in variety. I need not, and indeed could not, to any pur- pose, dwell more minutely on this particular class of the scenery found on this mountain road. But that is far from all which it enables the tra- veller to see ; as it affords many magnificent land- scapes of the rocky and woody valley beneath him which he had formerly passed through, and of all the woods that surround Coilivrochan and are scattered up the sides of the rocky hills above it. Here also, that fortunately designed and acci- dental house forms, often, an important object in the landscape; while, from many positions, the deep downward bed and course of the river are seen, as its bright glimpses break through the dense yet light masses of the birch woods that close over it. Thus there are produced 280 TUMEI.. numerous pictures, in a style of similar mag- nificent richness and wildness ; yet differing en- tirely in their details from all the former ones, in consequence of the different character of the northern boundary of the valley, which now forms the leading object in the landscape. One main peculiarity arising from this road, and which is chiefly conducive, as well to its novelty as to its grandeur of effect, is the alti- tude at which it is conducted above the bottom of the valley. Hence a greater scope is allowed to the eye ; and though many of the pictures are thus taken out of the hands and the power of the painter, they gain incalculably in beauty as mere objects of contemplation. Another of its peculiarities, and another leading cause of its beauty, is its tortuous intricacy, as it is guided among the mazes of the rocks and protuberances, now surmounting some rude knoll, then plung- ing into a deep gully ; sometimes winding its difficult way behind rocks, and, at others, lost in woods, or again emerging from them into the open day. Thus there is produced a rapid succession of close and open scenery ; the over- hanging rocks and precipices and the wild woods, giving way to the open, spacious, and TUMEL. 281 elevated landscape, till, at last, the summit of the hill being reached, the vale of the Tumel once more breaks, in all its splendour of orna- ment and extent, on the sight. That view is also different from either of the preceding : but I must pass from it, as being already described as far as is needful. Hence, however, I should counsel the traveller who has thus far trusted himself to this guidance, to proceed ; and thus to gain the level of the lake and the vale of the Tumel. The whole descent, occupying more than a mile, is full of beauty ; whether in the objects near at hand through which he must pass, or in the more distant land- scape which lies on the opposite side of the river. The farm-houses have a character of beauty, in their situations at least, which is quite peculiar to this place, and they abound in picturesque effect ; from the forms of the ground, the deep ravines and torrents near which they often lie, and the luxuriant and graceful wood and general richness by which they are surrounded. Hence also, by diverging to the banks of the river, and particularly near its exit from the lake, numerous pictures may be obtained ; and these, once more 282 TTJMEL. presenting a new style, and new varieties of character, that are quite unexpected. The level of the valley and the margin of the lake once attained, almost every thing which marked the former scenes, disappears. We find ourselves amid luxuriant green meadows and among ash trees ; as if suddenly transferred to the rich plains of Staffordshire or Kent; while, all along the banks of the river, now a sweet and gently gliding pastoral stream, every thing breathes of placidity and repose. The landscape now is a landscape of trees : often, it is a landscape that Hobbima might have painted, while we have parted with all in which Salvator might have gloried and Poussin delighted. The ford of Foss will now give the tourist an opportunity of passing the river, without the trouble of going round by Tumel bridge ; and thus he may return by Coilivrochan, or by Fincastle, as he may prefer. In either way, he may contrive, without difficulty, to include this last expedition within the limits of a day ; and it is a day of which he will, assuredly, never repent. But it is time to draw this work to a close ; TUMEL. 283 if, indeed, that ought not to have been done sooner. I am sensible that the rigid limits of Blair have been more than once passed ; but so connected is all this tract of picturesque scenery, that it was scarcely possible to find a point where to stop ; short, at least, of that entire range of associated country, which has now been in- cluded in the present sketch. As Blair is, in reality, the head quarter to the whole, the pro- mise to the reader has been as much kept here as in the case of Dunkeld ; although the circle has been wider and the details more numerous. If these notices and directions, such as they are, shall add to the enjoyment of the mere traveller, by pointing out what he might have passed without remark, or aid the pursuits of the artist, by shortening his labours and direct- ing his researches, the objects of these pages have been fully attained. Having, myself, de- rived much gratification from the various beau- ties of this country, and having, at the same time, arrived at this knowledge, not without much toil and many seasons of wandering among them, I was anxious to impart to others those pleasures which I have received, and desirous that all should profit, as far as their time and 284 TUMEL. means may allow, by my own labours. Scot- land deserves to be far better known than it yet is, in many other parts than those which have here been selected for remark ; and, the more it is known, the more will its picturesque beauties rise in value, and increase in numbers. How much of the same nature yet remains to be done, and how much the landscape of this country has been neglected, it is scarcely neces- sary to say ; and, were it said, it would perhaps be scarcely credited. But the pursuit is almost a new one ; and it is, indeed, rather an advan- tage, that we yet possess an unexhausted coun- try, and a treasure of unsuspected and unknown beauties. Hereafter, it is possible that the author and the " gentle reader," whom it is no longer the kind and good fashion to conciliate, may meet again, and on another and a wider field. In the mean time, they must part : but the author will part with less regret from a subject recalling many happy days, if he can reflect that but one such day has been thus added to the catalogue of his reader's pleasurable hours. THE END. Joseph Mallett, Printer, 59, Wndour Street, Soho, London. .i \ /