we cannot tell. The great "Watling Street" passes across the Cheviots,
and there are some old circular forts and camps quite close to that
wonderful road, along which many a battalion of Roman soldiers must
have marched; and these forts, if of pre-Roman age, were not at all
likely to have been held by the natives after Watling Street was made.
In the remoter fastnesses of the hills, however, the old tribes may
have continued to crop their "lazy-beds," to hunt, and tend their
herds, during the Roman occupation, and the old forts may have been in
requisition long after the last Roman had disappeared over the borders.
But I have already, I fear, delayed too long over the old history of
the Cheviot Hills, and must now draw my meagre sketches to a close.
In my first paper I said that these hills were a _terra incognita_ to
the tourist. Those who visit the district must not therefore expect
to meet with hotel accommodation. But "knowing" pedestrians will not
be much disturbed with this information, and will probably find, after
they have concluded their wanderings, that the hospitality and general
heartiness for which our stalwart Borderers were famous in other days
are still as noteworthy characteristics as they used to be.
V.
The Long Island, or Outer Hebrides.[J]
[J] _Good Words_, 1879.
I.
That long range of islands and islets which, extending from latitude
56° 47' N. to latitude 58° 32' N., acts as a great natural breakwater
to protect the north-west coast of Scotland from the rude assaults
of the Atlantic billows is not much visited by the ordinary tourist.
During "the season" the steamers now and again, it is true, deposit a
few wanderers at Tarbert and Stornoway, some of whom may linger for a
shorter or longer time to try a cast for salmon in Loch Laxdail, while
others, on similar piscatorial deeds intent, may venture inland as far
as Gearaidh nah Aimhne (Garrynahine). Others, again, who are curious
in the matter of antiquities, may visit the weird standing-stones of
Callernish, or even brave the jolting of a "trap" along the somewhat
rough road that leads from Tarbert to Rodel, in order to inspect the
picturesque little chapel there, and take rubbings of its quaint
tombstones with their recumbent effigies of knights, and Crusaders'
swords, and somewhat incomprehensible Latinity. Occasionally a few
bolder spirits may be tempted by the guide-books to visit Barra Head,
with its ruddy cliffs and clouds of noisy sea-birds, or even to run
north to the extremity of the Long Island to view the wonders of
the Butt of Lewis. But, as a rule, the few summer visitants who are
landed at Stornoway content themselves with a general inspection of
the grounds about Sir James Mathieson's residence, while those who
are dropped at Tarbert on Saturday are usually quite ready to depart
on Monday with the steamer that brought them. The fact is that hotel
accommodation in the Outer Hebrides is rather limited, and the means
of locomotion through the islands is on the same slender scale. Those,
therefore, who are not able and willing to rough it had better not
venture far beyond Tarbert and Stornoway.
When the islands are first approached they present, it must be
confessed, a somewhat forbidding aspect. Bare, bleak rocks, with a
monotonous rounded outline, crowd along the shore, and seem to form
all but the very highest portions of the land that meet our view,
while such areas of low-ground as we can catch a glimpse of appear
to be everywhere covered with a dusky mantle of heath and peat. But,
although the general character of the scenery is thus tame and sombre,
yet there are certain districts which in their wild picturesqueness are
hardly surpassed by many places in the northern Highlands, while one
may search the coast-line of the mainland in vain for cliffs to compare
with those gaunt walls of rock, against which the great rollers of the
Atlantic continually surge and thunder. It is wonderful, too, how,
under the influence of a light-blue sky, flecked with shining silvery
clouds, the sombre peat-lands lighten up and glow with regal purple and
ruddy brown. With such a sky above him, and with a lively breeze fresh
from the Atlantic and laden with the sweetness of clover and meadow-hay
and heather-bloom sweeping gaily past him, what wanderer in the Outer
Hebrides need be pitied? And such days are by no means so rare in these
islands as many a jaundiced Lowlander has maintained. It is true that
heavy mists and drizzling rain are often provokingly prevalent, and I
cannot forget the experience of a sad-hearted exile, who had resided
continuously for a year in Lewis, and who, upon being asked what kind
of climate that island enjoyed, replied: "Sir, it has no climate. There
are nine months of winter, and three months of very bad weather." For
myself, I can say that my experience of the climate in June, July, and
early August of several years has been decidedly favourable. During
those months I found comparatively few days in which a very fair
amount of walking and climbing could not be accomplished with ease and
pleasure, and that is a good deal more than one could venture to say
of Skye and many parts of the west coast of the mainland. The greatest
drawback to one's comfort are the midges, which in these islands
are beyond measure bloodthirsty, and quite as obnoxious as the most
carnivorous mosquitoes. Smoking, and all the other arts and devices by
which the designs of these tiny pests are usually circumvented, have
no effect upon the Hebridean vampires. In the low-grounds especially
they make life a burden. But those who have already become acquainted
with the Ross-shire midges, and yet have preserved their equanimity,
may feel justified in braving the ferocity of the Hebridean hosts. And
if they do so I believe they will be well repaid for their courage. To
the hardy pedestrian, especially, who likes to escape from the beaten
track laid down in guide-books, it will be a pleasure in itself to
roam over a region which has not yet come entirely under the dominion
of Mr. Cook. If he be simply a lover of the picturesque he will yet
not be disappointed, and possibly he may pick up a few hints in these
notes as to those districts which are most likely to repay him for his
toil in reaching them. But if to his love of the picturesque he joins
a taste for archæological pursuits, then I can assure him there is a
rich and by no means exhausted field of study in the antiquities of the
Long Island. Interesting, however, as are the relics of prehistoric and
later times which one meets with, yet it is the geologist, perhaps, who
will be most rewarded by a visit to these islands.
The physical features of the Outer Hebrides are, as already stated,
somewhat monotonous, but this is quite consistent with considerable
variety of scenic effect. All the islands are not equally attractive,
although the configuration of hills and low-grounds remains
persistently the same from the Butt of Lewis to Barra Head. The most
considerable island is that of which Lewis and Harris form the northern
and southern portions respectively. By far the larger part of the
former is undulating moorland, the only really mountainous district
being that which adjoins Harris in the south. A good general idea
of the moorlands is obtained by crossing the island from Stornoway
to Garrynahine. What appeared at first to be only one vast extended
peat-bog is then seen to be a gently-undulating country, coated, it
is true, with much peat in the hollows, but clad for the most part
with heath, through which ever and anon peer bare rocks and rocky
débris. Now and again, indeed, especially towards the centre of the
island, the ground rises into rough round-topped hills, sprinkled
sparingly with vegetation. One of the most striking features of the
low-grounds, however, is the enormous number of freshwater lakes,
which are so abundant as to form no small proportion of the surface.
They are, as a rule, most irregular in outline, but have a tendency to
arrange themselves in two directions--one set trending from south-east
to north-west, while another series is drawn out, as it were, from
south-west to north-east. I am sure that I am within the mark in
estimating the freshwater lakes in the low-grounds of Lewis to be at
least five hundred in number. In the mountain-district the lakes are,
of course, confined to the valleys, and vary in direction accordingly.
Harris and the southern part of Lewis are wholly mountainous, and show
hardly a single acre of level ground. The mountains are often bold and
picturesque, especially those which are over 1600 feet in height. They
are also exceedingly bare and desolate, the vegetation on their slopes
being poor and scanty in the extreme. Some of the hills, indeed, are
absolutely barren. In North Harris we find the highest peaks of the
Outer Hebrides: these are the Clisham, 2622 feet, and the Langa, 2438
feet. The glens in this elevated district are often wild and rugged,
such as the Bealach-Miavag and the Bealach-na-Ciste, both of which open
on West Loch Tarbert. But amid all this ruggedness and wild disorder
of broken crag and beetling precipice, even a very non-observant eye
can hardly fail to notice that the general contour or configuration of
the hills is smooth, rounded, and flowing, up to a rather well-marked
level, above which the outline becomes broken and interrupted, and all
the rounded and smoothed appearance vanishes. The contrast between the
smoothly-flowing contour of the lower elevations and the shattered and
riven aspect of the harsh ridges, sharp peaks, and craggy tors above,
is particularly striking. The mammillated and dome-shaped masses have
a pale, ghastly grey hue, their broad bare surfaces reflecting the
light freely, while at higher elevations the abundant irregularities
of the rocks throw many shadows, and impart a darker aspect to the
mountain-tops.
The appearances now described are very well seen along the shores of
West Loch Tarbert. All the hills that abut upon that loch show smoothed
and rounded faces, and this character prevails up to a height of 1600
feet, or thereabout, when all at once it gives way, and a broken,
interrupted contour succeeds. Thus the top of the Tarcall ridge in
South Harris is dark, rough, and irregular, while the slopes below are
grey, smooth, and flowing. The same is conspicuously the case with the
mountains in North Harris, the ruinous and sombre-looking summits of
the Langa and the Clisham soaring for several hundred feet above the
pale grey mammillated hills that sweep downwards to the sea.
After having familiarised themselves with the aspect of the hills
as seen from below, the lover of the picturesque, not less than the
geologist, will do well to ascend some dominant point from which an
extensive bird's-eye view can be obtained. For such purpose I can
recommend the Tarcall and Roneval in South Harris, the Clisham and the
Langa in North Harris, and Suainabhal in Lewis. The view from these
hills is wonderfully extensive and very impressive. From Suainabhal one
commands nearly all Lewis; and what a weird picture of desolation it
is! An endless succession of bare, grey, round-backed rocks and hills,
with countless lakes and lakelets nestling in their hollows, undulates
outwards over the districts of Uig and Pairc. Away to the north spread
the great moorlands with their lochans, while immediately to the south
one catches a fine panoramic view of the mountains of Harris. And then
those long straggling arms of the sea, reaching into the very heart of
the island--how blue, and bright, and fresh they look! I suppose the
natives of the Lewis must have been fishermen from the very earliest
times. It seems hardly possible otherwise to believe that the bare
rocks and peat-bogs, which form the major portion of its surface,
could ever have supported a large population; and yet there is every
evidence to show that this part of the Long Island was tolerably well
populated in very early days. The great standing-stones of Callernish
and the many other monoliths, both solitary and in groups, that are
scattered along the west coast of Lewis, surely betoken as much. And
those curious round towers, or places of refuge and defence, which are
so well represented in the same district, although they may be much
younger in date than the monoliths of Callernish, tell the same tale.
From the summits of the Clisham and the Langa the view is finer than
that obtained from Suainabhal. The former overlook all the high-grounds
of Harris and Lewis, and the monotonous moors with their countless
straggling lakes and peaty tarns. Indeed, they dominate nearly the
whole of the Long Island, the hills of distant Barra being quite
distinguishable. Of course, the lofty island of Rum, and Skye with
its Coolins, are both clearly visible, the whole view being framed in
to eastward by the mountains of Ross and Sutherland. On a clear day,
which, unfortunately, I did not get, one should be quite able to see
St. Kilda. Hardly less extensive is the view obtained from Roneval
(1506 feet) in the south of Harris. Far away to the west lie St. Kilda
and its little sister islet of Borerey. Southwards stretch the various
islands of the Outer Hebrides--North Uist, Benbecula, South Uist, and
Barra. How plainly visible they all are--a screen of high mountains
facing the Minch, and extending, apparently, along their whole eastern
margin--with broad lake-dappled plains sweeping out from the foot-hills
to the Atlantic. In the east, Skye with its spiky Coolins spreads
before one, and north of Skye we easily distinguish Ben Slioch and
the mountains of Loch Maree and Loch Torridon. South Harris lies, of
course, under our feet, and it is hard to give one who has not seen it
an adequate notion of its sterile desolation. Round-backed hills and
rocks innumerable, scraped bare of any soil, and supporting hardly a
vestige of vegetation; heavy mountain-masses with a similar rounded
contour, and equally naked and desolate; blue lakelets scattered in
hundreds among the hollows and depressions of the land: such is the
general appearance of the rocky wilderness that stretches inland from
the shores of the Minch. Then all around lies the great blue sea,
shining like sapphire in the sun, and flecked with tiny sails, where
the fishermen are busy at their calling.
From what has now been said, it will readily be understood that there
is not much cultivable land in Harris and the hilly parts of Lewis.
What little there is occurs chiefly along the west coast, a character
which we shall find is common to most of the islands of the Outer
Hebrides. In the neighbourhood of Stornoway, and over considerable
areas along the whole west coast of Lewis, the moorlands have been
broken in upon by spade and plough, with more or less success. But
natural meadow-lands, such as are frequently met with on the west side
of many of the islands both of the Outer and Inner Hebrides, are not
very common in Lewis.
One of the most notable features of the hillier parts of the Long
Island are the enormous numbers of loose stones and boulders which are
everywhere scattered about on hill-top, hill-side, and valley-bottom.
Harris is literally peppered with them, and they are hardly less
abundant in the other islands. They are of all shapes and sizes--round,
sub-angular, and angular. One great block in Barra I estimated to
weigh seven hundred and seventy tons. Many measure over three or
four yards across, while myriads are much smaller. These boulders are
sometimes utilised in a singular way. In Harris, there being only one
burial-place, the poor people have often to carry their dead a long
distance, and this of course necessitates resting on the journey. To
mark the spot where they have rested, the mourners are wont to erect
little cairns by the road-side, many of which are neatly built in the
form of cones and pyramids, while others are mere shapeless heaps of
stones thrown loosely together. Instead of raising cairns, however,
they occasionally select some boulder, and make it serve the purpose by
canting it up and inserting one or more stones underneath. Occasionally
I have seen in various parts of the mainland great boulders cocked
up at one end in the same way. Some of these may be in their natural
position, but as they often occupy conspicuous and commanding
situations, I am inclined to think that the cromlech-builders may have
tampered with them for memorial purposes. The present custom of the
Harris men may therefore be a survival from that far-distant period
when Callernish was in its glory.
North Uist is truly a land of desolation and dreariness. Bare, rocky
hills, which are remarkable for their sterile nakedness even in the
Long Island, form the eastern margin, and from the foot of these the
low, undulating rocky and peaty land stretches for some ten or twelve
miles to the Atlantic. The land is everywhere intersected by long,
straggling inlets of sea-water, and sprinkled with lakes and peaty
tarns innumerable. Along the flat Atlantic coast, which is overlooked
by some sparsely-clad hills, are dreary stretches of yellow sand
blown up into dunes. Near these are a few huts and a kirk and manse.
Not a tree, not even a bush higher than heather, is to be seen.
Peat, and water, and rock; rock, and water, and peat--that is North
Uist. The neighbourhood of Lochmaddy, which is the residence of a
sheriff-substitute, and rejoices besides in the possession of a jail,
is depressing in the extreme. It is made up of irregular bits of flat
land all jumbled about in a shallow sea, so that to get to a place one
mile in direct distance you may have to walk five or six miles, or even
more. I could not but agree with the natives of the more coherent parts
of the Long Island, who are wont to declare that Lochmaddy is only "the
clippings of creation"--the odds and ends and scraps left over after
the better lands were finished. North Uist, however, boasts of some
interesting antiquities--Picts' houses, and a great cairn called the
Barp, inside of which, according to tradition, rest the remains of a
wicked prince of the "good old days." Notwithstanding these, there are
probably few visitors who will not pronounce North Uist to be a dreary
island.
Benbecula is precisely like North Uist, but it lacks the bare mountains
of the latter. There is only one hill, indeed, in Benbecula; all the
rest is morass, peat, and water.
Massive mountains fringe all the eastern shores of South Uist, and
send westward numerous spurs and foot-hills that encroach upon the
"machars," or good lands, so as to reduce then to a mere narrow strip,
bordering on the Atlantic. Save the summits of Beinn Mhor (2033 feet)
and Hecla (1988 feet), which are peaked and rugged, all the hills show
the characteristic flowing outline which has already been described in
connection with the physical features of Harris. The low-grounds are,
as usual, thickly studded with lakes, and large loose boulders are
scattered about in all directions.
Barra is wholly mountainous, and, except that it is somewhat less
sterile, closely resembles Harris in its physical features, the hills
being smoothed, rounded, and bare, especially on the side of the island
that faces the Minch. Of the smaller islands that lie to the south,
such as Papey, Miuley, and Bearnarey, the most noteworthy features are
the lofty cliffs which they present to the Atlantic. For the rest, they
show precisely the same appearances as the hillier and barer portions
of the larger islands--rounded rocks with an undulating outline, dotted
over with loose stones and boulders, and now and again half-smothered
in yellow sand, which the strong winds blow in upon them.
There is thus, as I have said, considerable uniformity and even
monotony throughout the whole range of the Outer Hebrides. I
speak, however, chiefly as a geologist. An artist, no doubt, will
find infinite variety, and as he wends his way by moorland, or
mountain-glen, or sea-shore, scenes are constantly coming into
view which he will be fain to transfer to his sketch-book. The
colour-effects, too, are often surprisingly beautiful. When the rich
meadow-lands of the west coast are in all their glory, they show many
dazzling tints and shades, the deep tender green being dashed and
flushed with yellow, and purple, and scarlet, and blue, over which the
delighted eye wanders to a belt of bright sand upon the shore, and the
vast azure expanse of the Atlantic beyond. Inland are the heath-clad
moors, sprinkled with grey boulders and masses of barren rock, and
interspersed with lakes, some of which are starred with clusters of
lovely water-lilies. Behind the moorlands, again, rise the grim,
bald mountains, seamed and scarred with gullies, and in their very
general nakedness and sterility offering the strongest contrast to the
variegated border of russet moor, and green meadow, and yellow beach
that fringe the Atlantic coast.
All through the islands, indeed, the artist will come upon interesting
subjects. A most impressive scene may sometimes be witnessed on
crossing the North Ford, between North Uist and Benbecula. At
low-water, the channel or sound between these two islands, which is
five miles in breadth, disappears and leaves exposed a wide expanse
of wet sand and silt, dotted with black rocks and low tangle-covered
reefs and skerries. On the morning I passed over, ragged sheets of mist
hung low down on the near horizon, half-obscuring and half-revealing
the stony islets, and crags, and hills that lay between the ford and
the Minch. Seen through such a medium, the rocks assumed the most
surprising forms, sometimes towering into great peaks and cliffs,
at other times breaking up, as it were, into low reefs and shoals,
and anon dissolving in grey mist and vapour. At other times the thin
cloud-curtain would lift, and then one fancied one saw some vast city
with ponderous walls and battlements, and lofty towers and steeples,
rising into the mist-wreaths that hung above it, while from many points
on the Benbecula coast, where kelp was being prepared, clouds of smoke
curled slowly upwards, as if from the camp-fires of some besieging
army. The track of the ford winds round and about innumerable rocks,
upon which a number of "natives," each stooping solitary and silent to
his or her work, were reaping the luxuriant seaweed for kelp-making.
Their silence was quite in keeping with the general stillness, which
would have been unbroken but for the harsh scream of the sea-birds, as
they ever and anon rose scared from their favourite feeding-grounds
while we plodded and plashed on our way. The artist who could
successfully cope with such a scene would paint a singularly weird and
suggestive picture.