Tourists will never cease to remember their obligations to Mr. Leigh, the
publisher of this pretty little volume. He has done so much for their
gratification in his New Pocket Road Books, (of which series the present
work is one,) that their success ought to be toasted in all the delightful
retreats to which they act as _ciceroni_. In his Road Book of England and
Wales, he has done what Mr. Peel is now doing with our old Acts of
Parliament--consolidating their worth, and rejecting their obsoleteness.
For our own part, one of the greatest bugbears of books is the Road Book on
the old system: it is all long columns of small type, in which we lose our
way as in the cross-roads of the last century--all direction-posts and
"_Vides_," puzzle upon puzzle, Pelion on Ossa, and Ossa on Pelion--crabbed
and complex abbreviations, with which we get acquainted at the end of our
journey. They contain nothing like direct information, and the only people
who appear to understand them are postmasters and innkeepers, and some
old-established bagmen, whose interests and heads will give you a clearer
view of the roads than all the itineraries ever printed. It was, however,
but reasonable to expect that the Macadamization of roads, or the mending
of ways, should be followed up by the improvement of Road Books, since
greater facilities and inducements were thereby afforded to the tourist for
the detection and exposure of blunders--such as placing a hall on the wrong
side of the road, or recording some relic which had never existed but in
the book.
The arrangement of the _Road Book of Scotland_ is clear and intelligible,
and, moreover, it is a book which may be read in the post-chaise or the
parlour, on or off the road, before or after the journey, with equal
pleasure. It is so portable, that the pedestrian will not complain of its
weight, for it bears the same proportion to an old Road Book that a Prayer
Book does to a Family Bible. The picturesque charms of Scotland, and its
connexion with eminent individuals, and memorable events of love, war, and
chivalric renown, all combine to render a Scottish Road Book attractive and
interesting; but the editor prudently observes, that "long descriptions of
scenery, except in some few cases, have not been introduced, as they are
totally inadequate to convey to the reader any definite idea of the
beauties they attempt to portray." Plans of Pleasure Tours are likewise
appended, together with a useful Appendix; and, what is indispensable in a
work of this description, a good Index, is added.
As might be expected, nearly every page bears the record of some spot
consecrated by hoar antiquity, or in the inspirations of olden or modern
genius. Sir Walter Scott has probably monopolized every inch of his native
country, and invested each memorable spot with the enchantment of his pen;
so that little more than reference is necessary to enable the tourist to
identify such sites as the novelist has not distinguished in his writings
by actual name. Such information is requisite, for as we are reminded by
Kett, who observes, "We are told of a noble Roman, who could recollect all
the articles that had been purchased at an auction, and the names of the
several buyers. The memory of our travellers ought to be of equal capacity
and retentiveness, considering the short time they allow themselves for the
inspection of curiosities." As books and broad-cloth are now bought by the
pattern, we cannot do better than substantiate what we have said by a few
quotations from the _Road Book of Scotland_:--
_Falkirk._
The view from the hill of Falkirk, immediately behind the town, is
remarkably extensive, varied, and beautiful. Hence, the spectator may
behold the Ochil Hills, forming part of the ridge which extends from the
German Ocean to the banks of the Clyde; and through an opening in the chain
for the passage of the Forth, may discover, in fine weather, several
isolated rocks, on the highest of which stands Stirling Castle. Beyond,
over the Vale of Monteith, appear the Grampian Hills, including the
conical-shaped summit of Benledi, as well as Benvoirlich; and further to
the west, the lofty Benlomond. To the north are seen the rich valley of the
Carse, the Forth, with the towns of Culross, Kincardine, Clackmannan, and
Alloa, on the opposite shore, and the country reaching to the foot of the
Ochils. To the north also may be seen the village of Larbert, as well as
several seats, the most conspicuous of which are Carron Hall, Carron Park,
Kinnaird, which once belonged to Bruce the traveller, Stenhouse, the
property of Sir W. Bruce, and Dunmore House, belonging to the earl of that
name. Immediately below the spectator is Falkirk, and beyond it, the Carron
Iron Works. At the further extremity of the valley may be seen the shipping
of Grangemouth, and lower down, that of Bo' Ness.
The church of Falkirk was founded in 1057, by Malcolm Canmore, but rebuilt
in 1809. In the churchyard are the graves of Sir John Graham and Sir John
Stewart, both of whom were killed in 1298, when Edward I. obtained the
famous victory over the Scots, under Sir W. Wallace. The battle took place
halfway between Falkirk and the river Carron. A stone, called Wallace's
Stone, denotes the spot which his division occupied previous to the
contest. The tomb of Sir J. Graham bears an inscription. Here also is the
monument of Sir R. Munro, who was killed in 1746, when General Hawley was
defeated by the Pretender. The scene of this second battle was the Moor of
Falkirk, about a mile S.W. of the town.
_Immense Plane Tree._
At Kippenross is an immense plane tree. It is 27 feet in circumference at
the ground, and 30 at the part from which the branches shoot out.
_Environs of Callander._
The vicinity of Callander is famous as the scene of Sir W. Scott's "Lady of
the Lake." The prospects are beautiful, and there are several objects
worthy of being visited. On the banks of the Teith, about a quarter of a
mile below the village is the Camp, a villa supposed to occupy the site of
a Roman intrenchment. Hence there is a magnificent prospect of Ben Ledi,
which rises 3,000 feet above the level of the sea, and bounds the horizon
to the N.W. Its name signifies _Hill of God_, and it is probable that it
was formerly the scene of Druidical rites. According to tradition, it was
held sacred by the inhabitants of the surrounding country, who annually
assembled on the first of May to kindle the sacred fire in honour of the
sun, on its summit. Near the summit of Ben Ledi is a small lake, called
Loch-au-nan Corp, the Lake of Dead Bodies, a name which it derived from an
accident which happened to a funeral here. The lake was frozen and covered
with snow; and when the funeral was crossing it, the ice gave way, and all
the attendants perished.
About a mile N.E. of Callander is Bracklin Bridge, a rustic work only three
feet broad, thrown across a deep chasm, along the bottom of which rolls the
river Keltie. The torrent, after making several successive cataracts, at
length falls in one sheet about 50 feet in height, presenting from the
bridge an appalling spectacle.
Another curiosity near Callander is the Pass of Leney, a narrow ravine,
skirted with woods, and hemmed in with rocks, through which a stream,
issuing from Loch Lubnaig, rushes with amazing force, forming a series of
cascades.
_Linlithgow._
The palace, which forms the chief object of curiosity in Linlithgow, is a
majestic ruin, situated on the margin of a beautiful lake, and covering
more than an acre. It is entered by a detached archway, on which were
formerly sculptured the four orders borne by James V., the Thistle, Garter,
Holy Ghost, and Golden Fleece; but these are now nearly effaced. The palace
itself is a massive quadrangular edifice of polished stone, the greater
part being five stories in height. A plain archway leads to the interior
court, in the centre of which are the ruins of the well.
The west side of the quadrangle, which is the most ancient, was originally
built and inhabited by Edward I., and is also interesting as the
birth-place of Queen Mary. The room in which she first saw the light is on
the second story. Her father, James V., then dying of a broken heart at
Falkland, on account of the disaster at Solway Frith, prophetically
exclaimed, "It came with a lass," alluding to his family having obtained
the crown by marriage, "and it will go with a lass."
The east side, begun by James III., and completed by James V., contains the
Parliament Hall. This was formerly the front of the palace, and the porch
was adorned with a statue of Pope Julius II., who presented James V. with a
consecrated sword and helmet for his resistance to the Reformation. This
statue escaped the iconoclastic zeal of the Reformers; but at the beginning
of the last century was destroyed by a blacksmith, whose anger against the
Papal power had been excited by a sermon.
On an inn-window at Tarbet, in Dunbartonshire, is perhaps the longest
specimen of brittle rhymes ever written. They are signed "Thomas Russell,
Oct. 3, 1771," and extend to thirty-six lines, being a poetical description
of the ascent to Ben Lomond. What would Dr. Watts have said to such a
string of inn-window rhymes!
_Ossian._
The principal curiosity in the environs of Dunkeld is the Cascade of the
Bran at Ossian's Hall, about a mile distant. This hermitage, or
summer-house, is placed on the top of a perpendicular cliff, 40 feet above
the bottom of the fall, and is so constructed, that the stranger, in
approaching the cascade, is entirely ignorant of his vicinity to it. Upon
entering the building is seen a painting, representing Ossian playing on
his harp, and singing to a group of females; beside him is his hunting
spear, bow and quiver, and his dog Bran. This picture suddenly disappears,
and the whole cataract foams at once before you, reflected in several
mirrors, and roaring with the noise of thunder. A spectacle more striking
it is hardly possible to conceive. The stream is compressed within a small
space, and at the bottom of the fall has hollowed out a deep abyss, in
which its waters are driven round with great velocity. A little below the
hall is a simple arch thrown across the chasm of the rocks, and hence there
is a good view of the fall.
Half a mile further up the Bran is Ossian's Cave, part of which has been
artificially made; and about a mile higher is the Rumbling Bridge, thrown
across a chasm of granite about 15 feet wide. The river for several hundred
feet above the arch is crowded with massive fragments of rock, over which
it foams and roars; and, approaching the bridge, precipitates itself with
great fury through the chasm, making a fall of nearly 50 feet.
Returning to Ossian's Hall, the tourist may continue his excursion along
the face of Craig Vinean, the summit of which commands one of the finest
prospects in this vicinity. Hence he may form some idea of the extent to
which the Duke of Atholl has carried his system of planting. His Grace is
said to have planted more than thirty millions of trees in the
neighbourhood of Dunkeld.
_Loch Katrine._
We need scarcely remind the tourist, that the scene of Sir Walter Scott's
"Lady of the Lake" is laid in this spot. The following description is from
the pen of Dr. Graham, the minister of the parish:--"When you enter the
Trosachs there is such an assemblage of wildness and of rude grandeur, as
fills the mind with the most sublime conceptions. It seems as if a whole
mountain had been torn in pieces, and frittered down by a convulsion of the
earth, and the huge fragments of rocks, woods, and hills scattered in
confusion at the east end, and on the sides of Loch Katrine. The access to
the lake is through a narrow pass of half a mile in length. The rocks are
of stupendous height, and seem ready to close above the traveller's head,
and to fall down and bury him in the ruins. A huge column of these rocks
was, some years ago, torn with lightning, and lies in very large blocks
near the road. Where there is any soil, their sides are covered with aged
weeping birches, which hang down their venerable locks in waving ringlets,
as if to cover the nakedness of the rocks."
"Travellers who wish to see all they can of this singular phenomenon,
generally sail westward, on the south side of the lake, to the Rock and Den
of the Ghost, whose dark recesses, from their gloomy appearance, the
imagination of superstition conceived to be the habitation of supernatural
beings. In sailing, you discover many arms of the lake;--here, a bold
headland, where black rocks dip into unfathomable water;--there, the white
sand in the bottom of a bay, bleached for ages by the waves. In walking on
the north side, the road is sometimes cut through the face of a solid rock,
which rises upwards of 200 feet perpendicular above the lake. Sometimes the
view of the lake is lost, then it bursts suddenly on the eye, and a cluster
of islands and capes appear at different distances, which give them an
apparent motion, of different degrees of velocity, as the spectator rides
along the opposite beach. At other times his road is at the foot of rugged
and stupendous cliffs, and trees are growing where no earth is to be seen.
Every rock has its echo; every grove is vocal, by the melodious harmony of
birds, or by the sweet airs of women and children gathering filberts in
their season. Down the side of the mountain, after a shower of rain, flow a
hundred white streams, which rush with incredible velocity and noise into
the lake, and spread their froth upon its surface. On one side, the
water-eagle sits in majesty, undisturbed, on his well-known rock, in sight
of his nest, on the face of Ben Venue; the heron stalks among the reeds in
search of his prey; and the sportive ducks gambol on the waters or dive
below. On the other, the wild goats climb, where they have scarce ground
for the soles of their feet; and the wild fowl, perched on the trees, or on
the pinnacle of a rock, look down with composed defiance at man. In a word,
both by land and water, there are so many turnings and windings, so many
heights and hollows, so many glens, capes, and bays, that one cannot
advance twenty yards without having the prospect changed by the continual
appearance of new objects, while others are retiring out of sight. The
scene is closed by a west view of the lake, for several miles, having its
sides lined with alternate clumps of wood and arable fields, and the smoke
rising in spiral columns through the air from villages which are concealed
by the intervening woods; the prospect is bounded by the towering Alps of
Arrochar, which are checkered with snow, or hide their heads in the
clouds."
"In one of the defiles of the Trosachs, two or three of the natives met a
band of Cromwell's soldiers coming to plunder them, and shot one of the
party dead, whose grave marks the scene of action, and gives name to the
pass. In revenge for this, the soldiers resolved to attack an island in the
lake, on which the wives and children of the men had taken refuge. They
could not come at it, however, without a boat; one of the most daring of
the party undertook to swim to the island and bring away the boat; when,
just as he was catching hold of a rock to get ashore, a heroine, called
Helen Stuart, met him and cut off his head with a sword; upon which the
party, seeing the fate of their comrade, thought proper to withdraw."
Loch Katrine is about ten miles long, and one broad. Its depth in some
parts is nearly 500 feet. Its temperature, at the surface, is 62°, and at
the bottom 40°. The lake never freezes, and in winter is much resorted to
by swans.
* * * * *