A Companion and Useful Guide to the Beauties of Scotland/Chapter 14
CHAPTER XIV.
I quitted my kind host and hostess at Inveraray with great regret, for nothing could exceed the attentions of Captain and Mrs. Graham; nor can I forget the pleasant hours made so, by the good temper and never-ceasing cheerfulness of Mrs. Haswell.
When I turned the corner that screened me from the enchanting scene of Inveraray, I really was cast down, and the rain that came on did not raise my spirits. I crossed the river Fine at the head of the lake, and soon arrived at Cairndow inn, where, according to my usual custom, I eat my dinner in the chaise; the rain pouring all the time. I was near a very pretty place called Ardinglass, where is a new modern house just then finished, situated at the foot of Glen Kinglass, with the river of that name falling in gentle cataracts, and winding round it. The head of Loch Fine is in front of the house, with tremendous mountains all around, which, in wet weather, foam with high torrents not to be numbered.
At leaving Cairndow, the road leads up a steep hill, on the margin of the Kinglass river, and immediately enters that narrow glen. At its entrance there is some wood; but within a mile of Ardinglass, not a tree is to be seen. The river and the road occupy the middle of the glen, and nearly fill the space between the wonderful mountains on each side of it; and notwithstanding broken pieces of rocks are thickly scattered throughout, it is sufficiently covered with verdure to afford good sheep pasture. This glen is of some length, and the head of it runs towards the head of Loch Lomond; to which, however, from Glen Kinglass, there is only a foot way. The carriage road in Glen Kinglass runs through it for about three miles and a half, then leaves the river and the glen, and turns to the right up one of the most formidable as well as most gloomy passes in the Highlands, amongst such black, bare, craggy, tremendous mountains, as must shake the nerves of every timorous person, particularly if it be a rainy day. And when is there a day in the year free from rain, in Glen Croe? and on the hill called, "Rest-and-be-Thankful?" no day; no not one! So says the Argyleshire almanack. As soon as I crossed the river Kinglass, and quitted that glen; I got out of the chaise, for then it became somewhat fair above, and turned my steps to the steep of the mountain: a torrent rolled on my right, towering black crags were to my left, and, at a short distance, a broad roaring cataract faced me, dashing over the huge masses of rock, which every where crowd this mountain hollow. For although I had ascended a tremendous steep mountain for about three-quarters of a mile, I still found myself in a hollow, with rough, black, and craggy rocks, prodigiously high above me, in every form and direction, streaming with never-ceasing springs, and striped with numberless white torrents. Some of the crags on the hollow top of this mountain, hang so concave over the pass as to present a scene of awful darkness; and there is a small lake in this mountain gap, so shaded by the black crags hanging over it, that the water of it appears to be really black. Advancing through this rough and craggy pass, I came to the edge of it, looking down into Glen Croe. Whether I looked around me, or in front to the glen, all was a scene of wildness that no pen can describe. It was sufficient to strike a timid mind with horror—to fill a contemplative one with wonder and amazement, leading reflection to the Omnipotence that produced it. An infinity of towering, convex, concave, and pointed tops of mountains surrounded me, and rose high above me; black, rough, and dripping. I then stood on the edge of an amazing rough eminence, hanging over a zig-zag road (of at least a mile) down to the glen. Cataracts dashing in every direction, by the road, across the road, and bursting from every cliff and chasm on every side. A river runs swiftly through the middle of the glen, with the road close to it; and there are rough mountains to the sky on each side of it, with tremendous gaps in the rocks, and huge loose pieces scattered thickly over the bare glen. One or two solitary huts are seen on the margin of the water, and some patches of verdure peep through the pieces of rocks, and creep up the mountains, wherever a small portion of soil is collected, producing a very scanty pasture for the sheep, seen hanging about the crags, diminished by distance to the size of Scotch caraway comfits. This spot looks as if it had been abandoned by Providence; and the cause of its desolation seems to have been a hard shower of black rocks, poured upon it from the surrounding masses; and although the fragments lie almost as thick as hailstones, yet not visibly have these mountains been decreased either in height or in bulk. This glen, when viewed from above, or within it, seems as if it were the ne plus ultra of all things; but wild as it is, Glen Croe, as well as Glen Coe, has charms for me, and I was sorry to lose sight of it. Had not night and rain been coming on, I should have loitered in this uncommonly wild region.
The reason why the hill above described, as well as the pass, is called "Rest-and-be-Thankful," is as follows.—In the year 1746, the 24th regiment, Lord Ancram Colonel, and Duroure Major of it, being employed in making that road to Inveraray, as I have been informed by a good friend of mine, who was a young Lieutenant in that regiment; when they had completed the zig-zag to the top of the hill, they set up a stone like a tombstone, under a black rock, and engraved thereon the words, "rest and be thankful." The stone is still there, though not under a black rock; but it is raised upon a broken bank, and now contains, in addition to the old inscription of the 24th regiment, "repaired by the 23d regiment, in 1768."
The military roads made by General Wade, previous to that over Rest-and-be-Thankful, inspected by Lord Ancram, were of great utility to the Highland part of Scotland, as they formed an access, by land, to the western Highlands, through regions before excluded from, and almost unknown to the other parts of the country. The inhabitants of the mountainous districts through which the military roads ran, before Wade's time, had little communication with mankind beyond the confined limits of their respective glens; and when that General made his appearance amongst them in his coach with six horses (he was the first person who drove a carriage over Corryarraick, and in other roads his soldiers had made), they crowded about it, paying the utmost respect and reverence to the drivers, but took no notice of the General and his friends in the coach, taking them to be baggage; and the postillions, coachman, and out-riders, as the only proper objects of their attention and bows.
The road out of Glen Croe towards Loch Long, is very narrow and winding, amongst rough rocks, by the river's side, running from the glen to that salt water lake. As soon as the road joins Loch Long, it runs close by it on the north-west bank of it, under vast mountains towards its head, for near two miles from the descent out of Glen Croe. Soon after turning the head of the lake, the neat inn of Aroquhar will be found, facing the loch, and at the distance of about thirty yards from it. The house is a new one, and became an inn chiefly for the accommodation of the Duke of Argyle in going to Roseneath, another beautiful seat belonging to that nobleman. Travellers, who have neither time nor inclination to go farther than to see the beauties of Loch Lomond, should, from Dumbarton, sleep at Aroquhar instead of Luss; and as the distance is only two stages, they may, while the horses are resting at Luss, sail upon the lake, see the islands, &c. and still get to Aroquhar in one day. They would by that route see almost the whole of the beauties of Loch Lomond, and the next day return to Dumbarton by Roseneath; by which means they would also see great part of the beautiful scenery about Loch Long, Loch Gare, with the broad mouth of the Clyde opposite Greenoch, and continue by that river to Dumbarton.
From Cairndow, a chaise containing three German gentlemen preceded mine, and in walking out of Glen Croe I overtook them on foot. Human beings, in solitary tracts, soon become acquainted, and human beings meeting by chance in Glen Croe, is an event too rare to be passed unnoticed; I therefore soon learnt, according to the Highland curiosity, who they were, whence they came, and whither going. They had been in the island of Staffa, and were returning to London by Edinburgh. The two carriages arrived at the Aroquhar inn in torrents of rain; but as the German gentlemen had permitted their servant, who was on horseback, to secure rooms for me, as well as for his masters, I soon made myself at home, notwithstanding the Germans requested to share my parlour, as other company required theirs. The next day was so very adverse for moving, or seeing through the fog which accompanied the torrents of rain, that we were all weather-bound at Aroquhar. I ventured out on the beach of the lake for a quarter of an hour, but the wind was too high to stand it longer, and the mist too thick to see any thing, except imperfectly; some black crags, and torrents raging down their sides, making themselves visible by their whiteness and noise. The second evening that I was at Aroquhar, the weather became dreadful by rain, wind, and darkness, when a chaise stopped, containing a gentleman, his wife, and two young ladies. I opened my parlour to consult if room could be made, but it was not to be done; there was not even a shake-down to he had, as three of them were to be spread upon the carpet of the parlour I was in, after I should retire, for folks who had been in the inn all day. To see these strangers turned out was lamentable; and in such a night too! but as Tarbet inn was only one mile and a half further, by sending lanterns and guides they got safe to it; though they found sad accommodations there. I had the next day the pleasure of seeing this party at Luss, and dined with them at Dumbarton; when I learnt from them, that in the most dreary part of Glen Croe, they came up to a man whose horse had just dropped; that they did all they could to assist him, but to no effect. The horse was dying; and the man had taken the saddle upon his own back, and left the beast to die alone. What a deplorable state was that man in! I suppose he might get to one of the huts in Glen Croe. To walk to Cairndow was impossible, loaded with the saddle; and in such a storm of rain, and wind, and darkness, into the bargain.
The morning I left Aroquhar was very tolerable; and as much as I could see of the view down Loch Long, it was pleasant and woody. To the head of it, is a cluster of black, jagged, mountains, leading to the head of Loch Lomond, and towering over its western side; these mountains are called the Aroquhar Hills: they are extremely jagged, covered with old men's heads, and very high; but not so huge as Ben Lomond, opposite to them, on the east side of Loch Lomond. From the Aroquhar inn to Tarbet inn (better than a mile), is an opening between mountains, with all sorts of trees; so that it is like a fine grove. This road joins the one on the west side of Loch Lomond, in a right angle at the inn at Tarbet, a single house, exactly opposite to Ben Lomond. The military road, from the junction, continues by the lake's edge to its head, and then goes through Glen Fallach, and joins the Tyndrum road; but it is so out of repair, that it is dangerous, and impassable for a carriage.
From Tarbet inn is a ferry to a house opposite, at the foot of Ben Lomond, built on purpose by the Duke of Montrose, for the accommodation of those who wish to go to the top of the mountain. A gentleman, I was told, had been waiting a week at Tarbet for a favourable day to ascend, and was on that expedition the day I passed it. As it grew clear enough for me to see the top of that huge mass, I think he would not lose his labour; but on such occasions disappointment is often the case; the country below being seldom to be seen distinctly from such immense heights, even though at starting all appears clear and cloudless.
The drive from Tarbet to Dumbarton, (21 miles) is superlatively beautiful. A few miles south of Tarbet, the road winds up a very steep hill, to a shelf hanging over the glassy lake: from that point, to the east and north, the sublimity of the scene is equal to the beauty of it. It is the narrow part of the lake, bounded by the Aroquhar hills and Ben Lomond, both sweeping precipitately to the water's edge, with rocky, verdant, and wooded promontories stretching into the lake, and receding one behind the other towards the head of the loch, and finely reflected by the mirror beneath them. The southern view, (from this shelf), over Loch Lomond is enchanting: the vast expanse of the lake, containing at least twenty-four islands, many of them large, and enriched and beautified by wood and rocks, and every thing that can charm the sight. The mountains, the woods on the banks, and the cultivation as the mountains recede from the lake, with the high blue hills in the horizon to the south, all contribute to render this view, in point of beauty, equal to any in nature, when seen in a clear day, with a favourable light.
From the hill just behind Luss, is also a charming view: in short, there is not a step from Aroquhar to Dumbarton, that may not be admired for some charm or other.
The town of Dumbarton has nothing striking in it; there are indeed almost two new towns near it; one on the west bank of the river, and the other on the east, by Balloch Boat, which proves the great increase of trade and population at and near Dumbarton. The rock on which the Castle is erected, is a very great curiosity: how such a prodigious mass of solid rock, and of great circumference and height, should rear its lofty rough head, and be insular on a perfect flat, without the least rising ground for a mile on any side of it, is very astonishing. To this rock from the town is about three quarters of a mile, to the south; it rises on a peninsula of sand, washed by the Clyde, and the river Leven from Loch Lomond, which empties itself into the Clyde at the base of the rock; at the top of which is a fine view. The Castle, in the light of utility as a defensive fortification, is a mere nothing; though a farcical fuss in time of war is made to gain admittance into it. The sketch book and pencil of such an inoffensive draughtswoman as myself, was, with great solemnity, ordered to be left in custody whilst I walked to the top of the Castle, lest I should run away with the plan of this important post of defence. I obeyed orders, but laughed in my sleeve at the prohibition of my innocent portfolio.
The drive from Dumbarton to Glasgow is very fine by Clyde's side; but I did not travel it, as I arrived at that city by another road.
Glasgow is amazingly enlarged; I was there eleven years previous to this tour, and I could hardly believe it possible for a town to be so altered and enlarged as I found it to be in 1796. Its situation is very fine; but the town is like all other great manufacturing trading towns; with inhabitants very rich, saucy, and wicked.