A summer in Scotland

Front matter

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Preface

Having spent a month or two during the last summer in rambling among the Highlands of Scotland, I have written the following account of my adventures for the amusement of my pupils, and of such other readers as may honor these pages with a pertisal. The narrative is strictly a personal one. The work does not pretend to give a geographical, historical, or statistical account of Scotland, but only a simple narration of the adventures of a traveler rambling in a romantic country in search of recreation and enjoyment alone. In writing the account, I have attempted nothing more than to reproduce for the reader a picture of the scenes, such as they were, which presented themselves to my attention. The book, therefore, claims no higher province than that of offering a rational source of entertainment to the reader in leisure hours.

Abbolt^s Institution, New York, Jan., 1818.

Letter I. Crossing The Atlantic

Parting. — Description of the Ship. — Daily Routine. — Barial of the Dead — Making Sail. — Heaving the Log. — Divine Service at Sea. — The Lotteiy Page 13

LETTER n.

LANDING IN ENGLAND.

The Channel. — Scenery. — Landing. — Scenes at the Custom-house. — Description of an English Inn 43

LETTER IIL

A RIDE THROUGH THE MANUFACTURING DISTRICT.

The Liverpool Dock. — English Rail-way Station. — English and American Ideas in respect to Arrangements for Traveling. — Sceneiy of the Manufactm-ing District. — Arrival at York 57

LETTER IV.

DIVINE SERVICE IN THE MINSTER AT YORK.

Description of York. — The Cathedral. — Divine Service in the Minster — The Communion. — Influence of Ceremonies and Costumes . 70

LETTER V.

THE COLLIERIES.

Newcastle and its Environs. — Visit to a Coal-pit. — Descent into the Mine. — Description of the Interior. — General Plan. — Arrangements for raising the Coal. — System of Ventilation. — Scenery at the Mouth of the Tweed 87

X CONTENTS.

LETTER VI.

ENTRANCE INTO SCOTLAND.

Desci-iption of Berwick-upon-Tweed. — English Electioneering. — Fortifications of the Town. — The Salmon Fishery. — The Mer.se. — Rail-way along the Cliffs Page 115

LETTER VIL

Arthur's seat at Edinburgh.

Description of Edinburgh. — Ascent of Arthur's Seat. — St. Anthony's Chapel and Well. — View from the Summit. — Interesting Localities in the Neighborhood 131

LETTER VIII.

HOLYROOD.

Situation of the Palace. — Galleiy of Portraits. — Queen Mary's Rooms. — Royal Chapel. — Visitors and Guides ..... 148

LETTER IX.

LINLITHGOW.

Description of the Village. — The Palace. — Various ancient Apartments. — Queen Mary's Room. — Emblems of ancient and modem Times. — Environs of the Palace, and little Guide ..... 165

LETTER X.

ENTERING THE HIGHLANDS.

Situation of Loch Katrine and Loch Lomond. — Entrance to the Highlands at Callander. — The Trosachs. — Ben An and Ben Venue. — — Steam-boat on Loch Katrine. — Scenery of the Glens. — Character of the Population 179

LETTER XL

LOCH LOMOND.

First View of Loch Lomond. — Steam Navigation on the Loch. — Tourists. — An evening Walk on the Shore. — Ascent of Ben Lomond. — Description of a Highland Wedding across the Loch . . 194

CONTENTS. XI

LETTER XII.

STAFFA AND lONA.

Desciiption of Oban. — Private Lodgings at Oban. — Announcements. — Sail to Zona. — Scenes at the Landing, and visiting the Ruins. — Staffa. — Landing through the Surf. — The great Cavern. — Return to Oban Page 222

LETTER XIII.

BEN NEVIS.

Situation of Fort WilHam. — View of the Lochs, and of Glen Nevis. — Ascent of Ben Nevis. — Operations of the Sappers. — Precipices and Chasms. — Descent of the Mountain. — A Highland Legend . 242

LETTER XIV.

THE CALEDONIAN CANAL.

Description of the Valley in which it lies. — Ride in the Stage-coach. — Steamer on the Canal. — Fort Augustiis and the suiToundiug Scenery. — Inverness. — Field of Culloden ...... 263

LETTER XV.

LOCH LEVEN CASTLE.

Region m which Loch Leven lies. — Account of Queen Maiy's Imprisonment. — Situation and Structure of the Castle. — The Guide's Account of the Queen's Escape. — Souvenirs ...... 278

LETTER XVI.

EDINBURGH CASTLE.

The High Street of Edinburgh. — Situation of the Castle. — General Arrangements. — History of the Scottish Regalia. — Airangements for the public Exhibition of them. — The Crown Room, and great oak Chest 296

LETTER XVII.

LEAVING SCOTLAND.

The Stage-coach. — English and American Ideas. — English Constitution. — Different Views in America and England in respect to a hereditary Aristocracy. — American Ideas of Equality. — Gretna Green. — Arrival at Windermere. — Erroneous Impressions in England respecting American Principles of Government 311

ENGRAVINGS.

View of the Landing of a Party from a Steamer at the Island of Staffa. ......... Frontispiece.

View in the Neighborhood of the Collieries .... Page 95

View of the Palace of Holyrood House, with Salisbury Crags and Arthui''s Seat in the Distance ....... 149

The Wedding Paity on Loch Lomond, with Ben Lomond in the Distance 213

Ben Nevis, and the Enti-ance uito the Caledonian Canal . . 249

View of the Castle of Loch Leven 285

SUMMER

SCOTLAID,

SUMMER IN SCOTLAND.

LETTER I.

CROSSING THE ATLANTIC.

Anticipations. Hour of departure.

SETTING SAIL.

On looking forward to the prospect of crossing the Atlantic for the first time, some months, usually, before the day of embarkation, the mind is strongly excited with anticipations of pleasure. To visit Europe is the early hope and ambition of almost every cultivated spirit in America ; and when the idea of wandering through the streets of London, of visiting the Louvre and the Palais Royal, of ascending the Alps — an idea which has, through the long years of childhood and youth, appeared only as a romantic vision — comes at last to assume the form of an approaching reality, the pulse beats quicker, and the heart bounds with enthusiastic impatience to have the hour of departure arrive.

But when it does really arrive, it generally brings with it a great change of feeling. The excitement and the enthusiasm give way to an oppressive sense of care and responsibility, which the prospect of so long an absence and so extended a journey can not fail to inspire. This sense of responsibility is increased by the long and careful preparation necessary, by the formal pro-

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Commercial travelers. The steamer. Serious thoughts.

vision which it is prudent to make against the possibility of never returning, and by the parting from friends, whom there is much to suggest to us we may perhaps never see again. All these things damp the enthusiasm sadly at the last hour. Then, besides, there is a sort of ponderous momentum, as it were, in all the arrangements and movements connected with the sailing of an Atlantic steamer, which impresses the mind with the idea that going forth in her is an event of some mysterious magnitude and importance. The solid, massive structure of the ship ; the obvious preparations for the encounter of danger on the deep ; the foreign expression given to the scene by the uniforms of the officers and the costumes of the seamen; the thundering voice of the steam-pipe ; these, and other indications like them, make the voyager feel that he is embarked in a very serious enterprise. There are, it is true, a large class of commercial men who are always going to and fro, from one continent to the other, and who are equally at home whether in England or America, or on the ocean between, who do not probably feel these influences at all. But in respect to the rest — the travelers — those who go only as visitors to Europe, whether for instruction or for pleasure, they form generally a sad and sober party, as they proceed to sea. The husband and father forgets the Alps, and thinks of the wife and the children whom he is leaving behind him. The bride, while she clings more closely to her young husband's arm than ever, remembers her mother and her sisters, and the happy home of her childhood, from which she realizes that she has now been finally sundered ; and if there chance to be one who has no direct domestic ties, he feels a new intensity in homelessness

All ashore. The parting. The wharf.

and solitude as he goes forth among strangers over the wide ocean alone.*

As might naturally be expected, then, the company stand sadly and seriously upon the saloon deck when the last bell rings to warn " All ashore." The wharf is covered with a crowd — strangers to one another, but bound together for a moment now by one common feeling — interest in the parting ship, and in some one or more of its now imprisoned inmates. Every one's heart is full. Tears come into many eyes, and stand all ready to come into many more. The company on the land give three cheers, which their parting friends

* This sense of isolation and loneliness is not diminished much as tho voyage advances, and the travelers have opportunity to become acquainted with one another, for such acquaintance rai'ely ripens into any real or cordial friendship. There are exceptions, it is true, but generally the solitary traveler, or the little party, who feel alone at the commencement of tha voyage, feel still more alone among the multitude of their acquaintances at the end. There is a certain atmosphere of reserve, which is peculiar to a company of American travelers going to Europe, which gives an air of formality and caution to their intercourse with one another, and which appears to increase, rather than to diminish, as we approach the foreign shore. The fact is, that very many have a sort of feeling — indistinct and indefinable, it is true, but none the less real on that account, and certainly not unreasonable — of uncertainty how far any new friendship which they may form on the voyage may be a source of embarrassment on landing. Nor is this an improper feeling. Each individual has his own peculiar objects and ends in view. He has in prospect, by means of his letters of introduction, or his personal acquaintance, facilities for accomplishing these objects, so far as concerns himself and his own immediate party, but which could not easily be made available for a larger number. He sees, in a word, or fancies he sees, openings of admission to places or to scenes where he wishes to go, large enough for himself, but not large enough for all his friends. Through the influence of this feeling, or something like this, it happens that though in the progress of the voyage the strange faces become familiar, and some personal knowledge is acquired of the various individuals and parties on board, and perhaps a common conversational acquaintance is formed with nearly all, the real sense of separation and solitude grows sti-onger instead of weaker all the way, and every little party on board feels really more isolated from all mankmd at the end of the voyage than they did at the beginning.

The parting salute. Farewell. Summons to lunch.

on board sometimes have the heart to return, and sometimes not. The ship, however, returns the salute with' a gun w^hen she finds herself really receding from the shore. The waving of handkerchiefs, fluttering more and more faintly, and at longer intervals, as the distance increases, closes the scene. The outlines of Boston and of the neighboring shores soon grow dim, but by the time we fairly realize that we are actually separated from our native land, traveler-like we change suddenly to a new and very different excitement. We find ourselves all crowding eagerly into the saloon at the summons of a bell calling us to lunch ! The old campaigners, in whom these parting scenes excite no emotion, go to the tables because they are hungry. Others wish to make sure of their seats for the voyage by taking early possession ; and the rest go from curiosity, to see what is to be seen. For one reason or another the decks are deserted, and all crowd around the tables in the saloon to lunch.

THE SHIP.

July 6.

Five days on the Atlantic ! It is necessary to allow about five days for time to get accustomed to the motion of the ship, and to the novelty of the scenes which surround one at sea. This time has now expired ; and as I presume that very few of my readers will have had the opportunity of seeing the interior of a sea-going steamer, I will undertake to give you a description of our ship, and of the mode of life which we lead on board.

In commencing this description, I am seated at a table in a little cabin which is below the principal deck of the ship. The room is perhaps eight feet wide and

Description of the ship. Cabins. Gimbals. State-rooms.

twice as long, and it has a table which nearly fills up the whole of the interior. There is a little fire-place, with a grate, at the middle of one of the sides of the room, with marble jams and mantel, and a large mirror over it. There are two lamps, one on each side of the mirror, suspended at the end of brass branches in a peculiar manner, so as to keep them always in a perpendicular position, notwithstanding the pitching and rolling of the ship. I call them lamps, but they are really candlesticks, the candles being concealed from view and pressed upward by a spring as fast as they a^'e consumed, so as to keep the flame always at the same level, at the bottom of a small ground glass globe. They have, therefore, the appearance and the name of lamps, though they burn only spermaceti, as oil would be inconvenient to manage at sea. Their mode of suspension keeps them always upright ; the compasses, the chronometers, the barometer, and, in fact, every thing which it is desirable to keep steady at sea, are usually mounted in the same way : it is called hanging them on gimbals.

Between the fire-place and the table of the little room which I am describing there is but a very narrow space, scarcely more than is necessary to allow two persons to pass one another. Behind the table a sort of sofa extends along the whole side of the room. This sofa answers for a seat by day, and it makes two berths at night ; and in order to confine the two nocturnal occupants, each to his proper portion, it is divided into two sofas by a sort of arm in the middle. The whole room is handsomely finished with oak paneling, and is lighted, though somewhat dimly, by little windows, up high, on each side, consisting of a row of single panes of glass,

B 2

Saloon. Fixtures and furniture.

opening out upon the main-deck, and which in rough weather have to be closed entirely. An enormous leather bag hangs in one corner of the room to receive the letters which the passengers may have brought on board, but which they are forbidden by law to take on shore at Liverpool.

This httle cabin is a rendezvous for gentlemen; there is another similar to it, further forward, for the ladies ; and from these two centers narrow passage ways lead all through the " between decks" of the ship, with state-rooms on each side of them. These state-rooms are very small, with two berths in each, one above the other, and with sundry toilet conveniences, which are all secured in some way or other against the effect of the ship's motion. The tumbler sets into a brass ring which projects from the wall. The pitcher has a socket to receive it. The lamp is in a little triangular closet, between one state-room and the next, with panes of ground glass, through which its light is transmitted in each direction. This lamp is accessible only through a small door opening into the passage way : it is hung on gimbals. It is lighted by the steward every evening at dark, and is extinguished at midnight, and is thus not under the control of those who use it at all.

This little world of state-rooms is usually the scene, for the first week after going to sea, of a great deal of misery. Even if the weather is not rough, the ship writhes and twists restlessly on the swell of the sea, producing a giddy and swimming sensation of the head, which soon results in a general derangement of the system, and in pain and distress far more hard to endure than that generally occasioned by much more serious maladies.

Main-deck. Saloon. Fixtures and furniture.

The whole of this region of cabins and state-rooms, with the various passages connecting them, is below the main-deck. Two winding stair ways lead us up, and upon the main-deck we have a very different scene. First, there is the great saloon, extending from the stern forward nearly to the middle of the ship. Within this saloon there are two ranges of dark mahogany tables, one on each side, with a passage way between them. Behind the tables, and against the sides of the saloon, a row of sofas, or, rather, one continued sofa, extends, and hair-cloth settees, well cushioned and stuffed, ^re arranged on the outside, all being fastened to the floor. The passage way above referred to is between these settees, and is quite narrow ; all the rest of the space in the room is occupied by the tables and the seats. Over each table is a long mahogany shelf, two stories high, the edges of the lower part, and the whole surface of the upper one, being perforated and cut into sockets to receive decanters, tumblers, and wine-glasses, and to hold them so as to prevent their being disturbed by the motion of the ship. These shelves are very elegantly made, and being brass mounted, with a peculiar apparatus to allow of their being raised a little out of the way after the dinner is over, and always having their glittering contents upon them, they make a very brilliant appearance. There is a row of small windows on both sides of the saloon, each consisting of one pane of plate-glass, and fitted with a curtain of crimson damask. The remaining portion of the walls and the ceiling over head is of panel work, highly ornamented, and of dark and sober coloring.

This saloon has to answer the purposes of parlor, sitting-room, dining-room, reading-room, and lounge.

Scenes in the saloon. Employments. Setting the tables.

The whole interior aspect of it is very elegant and comfortable when only moderately occupied ; but it is not always very comfortable when it is full, as it is at lunch and dinner, and at other times when cold or wet weather drives the gentlemen in from the decks. Look into it now at any ordinary time, and you see the settees occupied by gentlemen in all attitudes, and engaged in all occupations. Some are reading books, or English newspapers bought at Halifax ; some are playing backgammon, chess, or cards ; some are talking ; some are asleep. Here a party of half a dozen have collected around a group of decanters and wine-glasses, and are drinking one another's healths ; and there a few ladies, better sailors than the rest, are making a desperate effort to amuse themselves, with the assistance of a polite officer of the ship, in writing crambo. Children are running up and down, or kneeling upon the settees so that they can look over upon the tables, amusing themselves or their older fellow-passengers with their playthings, or with their childish conversation. This state of things can, however, never continue for more than two hours at a time, as we have full, formal meals five times a day, making one every four hours, except that the interval between dinner and tea is but two hours. Thus the occupations of the company are continually interrupted by the coming in of the stewards with their cloths to spread the tables. However, if you will just let them lay the cloth itself, you may then go on with your work if you please, whether it is writing, reading, or a game ; they will set the places all around you, and leave you undisturbed till the very ringing of the bell. Under these circumstances, the saloon is kept in a constant state ol

Setting the tables. Movement and bustle.

movement and change from morning to night. We begin with breakfast, which continues from half past eight to ten, each guest appearing when he is ready, and ordering what he pleases. Let it be what it will, within any reasonable limits, it is sure to be prepared and placed hot before him in a very few minutes. At eleven they begin to lay the cloths for lunch, which is brought upon the table as soon as the captain and the mates " make it eight bells" on the deck above, that is, ascertain, by an observation of the sun, with their quadrants and sextants, that it is noon at the pla^e where we happen to be. At lunch the tables are loaded with tureens of broth, cold meats of every variety, lobsters, sardines, baked potatoes, baked apples, stewed prunes, crackers and cheese, and plenty of bottles of porter and ale. After the tables are cleared from lunch there is a short interval again for reading and writing in the saloon; but at three o'clock a general interruption to these occupations takes place by the appearance of the cloths for dinner. Thus the apartment is kept in a continual state of movement and bustle from morning to night, the scene closing between ten and eleven by a supper for all who choose to take it, very luxuriously served.

This saloon, which is built upon the principal deck of the ship, does not occupy the whole breadth of it. There is on each side of it a long and narrow space between the saloon and the sides of the vessel, which forms a sort of promenade. It, of course, has the deck for its floor, the sky is over head, and the side of the saloon, with its row of small plate-glass windows, on one side, and the bulwarks of the ship on the other. Here the children play, and promenaders walk to and

Promenades. Stewards' apartments- and stores.

fro ; and, in particularly warm and sunny weather, little groups, or individuals in solitude, sit upon camp-stools or settees, or upon a sort of mast or spar, which lies securely lashed along under the bulwarks, ready to be used in case of need, and occupy themselves in reading or conversation, or in simply waiting for time to pass along. There is no view of the sea from these promenades, on account of the bulwarks, which, instead of being, as in ordinary steam-boats, only breast high, are made, as is usual with sea-going vessels, much higher than one's head, so that it is necessary to clamber up upon the spar in order to get a view of the waves. Forward of the saloon, and in a line with it upon the deck, and separated from it by a covered passage way, is a congeries of little apartments — in all scarce twelve feet square — which seems to be China closet, wine cellar, pantry, and larder all in one, and from which issue the seemingly inexhaustible supplies for the table. The covered passage way above referred to leads across from the promenade on one side of the ship to that on the other, and from it there is a communication with the saloon on one side and this pantry on the other side. The two stair-cases by which we ascend from the cabins and the state-rooms, land, likewise, here. Across this passage way the stewards bring at meal-times the endless supplies of every imaginable article of food or refreshment, with which they load the tables five times a day. The supplies, it is true, are kept up by a set of wild-looking men, half cooks, half sailors in appearance, who run continually to the windows of these apartments outside, at the proper hours, with great covered dishes which they bring from various cabooses and kitchens further forward. Notwithstanding this, how-

Abundance of supplies. Engines and stokers.

ever, the immense capacity of this small space, and its seeming power to supply every imaginable demand upon it, excite continual vv^onder. One of my mess-mates, accustomed by many previous voyages to these scenes, was very free in calling, at any time, for any thing which he happened to feel a fancy for, whether it was upon the table or not ; and it was always produced without any question and with very little delay. Upon my expressing my surprise at the ampleness and abundance of their stored and preparations, " Oh," said he, " they have got every thing on board, and so I just take the liberty to call for any thing I happen to want. I reason that when I pay ten dollars a day for my board, I am entitled to have what I ask for. The captain, it is true, does not reckon it so. He calls it four cents a mile for traveling conveyance ; / call it ten dollars a day for board ; and as both modes of viewing the subject seem equally correct, I choose to act on mine."

Directly forward of what I have been describing we come to the center of the deck, in the middle of the ship, where there are openings and passages leading down to the engines and machinery, and also to the forward cabin. You look through a grating into one of these openings, and see iron ladders leading down to a second floor of grating many feet below, and beneath that a second series of ladders conducting to a still greater depth, where you see the glow of fires, and piles of coal, and black, Vulcan-like looking men, replenishing and stirring the fires with enormous implements of iron, seemingly too ponderous for human strength to manage. You wonder what there can be valuable or desirable in life spent in such occupations and in such a den.

" The smoky." Fresh air. The smoke-pipe.

Forward of this is a very important place, being the only part of the ship where you can be in the open air and yet have a shelter over head. Imagine a space ten feet square, with a wooden grating for the floor, and the capstan in the center of it. There is a partition forward of it, behind which the enormous smoke-pipe ascends into the air. The heat from this pipe pours out very abundantly through a lattice-work in the partition, so that the passenger can warm himself by it if he is cold. The space is open on the two sides to a broad passage way along the deck, beyond which, however, it is protected on the sides of the ship by the paddle-boxes, kitchens, and various offices. Thus, while it is in a great measure open to the air, it is protected from the rain by the saloon deck which extends over it, and it is cut off by the surrounding structures from all prospect of the sea. This is the great rendezvous of the smokers, who stand about the capstan, or sit on the settees and camp-stools. Here, also, the half sick come in bad weather, for it is the only sheltered place about the decks. Here they come, therefore, when too unwell to bear the confined feeling of the cabins and saloon, to enjoy the fresh air a little ; fresh air which is composed in about equal proportions of the heat of the boilers,-the smoke of the cigars, and all the winds of heaven.

There is, however, one other place of tolerable shelter, which, after all, is, on the whole, better than this. It is directly above it, on the saloon deck, close by the naked smoke-pipe, where it comes out into the open air. This smoke-pipe is very large, perhaps eight feet in diameter, and is painted of a fiery red, with black bands encircling it. The saloon deck is eleva-

The smoke-pipe. Exposure. " Forward."

ted, and entirely exposed to the sky. It extends from the smoke-pipe back over the saloon to the stern for about half the width of the ship. Two winding stairs lead up to it. It is surrounded by a brass railing, which is covered with canvas at sea, but is very bright and elegant in port. Here, in fine weather, you can sit, or you can walk up and down, if your head is sufficiently steady. You have an unobstructed prospect of the sea, and you can watch conveniently all the operations of the sailors in heaving the log, and in making and furling sail, and also those of the officers in taking the observation at noon. But you must bfe warmly clothed, for there is always a cold wind drawing over the decks of a sea-going steamer. When it becomes too cold, or when it begins to rain, you can go to the smoke-pipe, and, by placing your camp-stool on the sheltered side of it, find a tolerable protection from the rain ; and, at any rate, you find the effects of a little wet more tolerable than that of the cigars in the more sheltered place around the capstan just below. The result is, that all ladies, and nearly all gentlemen, except the smokers, when they wish to feel the warmth of this enormous tube, prefer to seek it in the open air above, rather than in the half-confined inclosure below.