five we reached _Lochgilp_, and all landed at _Lochgilphead_, a small
village where there were numbers of people, and, amongst others, Sir
John P. Orde, who lent his carriage and was extremely civil. We and our
people drove through the little village to the _Crinan Canal_, where we
entered a most magnificently decorated barge, drawn by three horses,
ridden by postilions in scarlet. We glided along very smoothly, and the
views of the hills--the range of _Cruachan_--were very fine indeed;
but the eleven locks we had to go through--(a very curious process,
first passing several by rising, and then others by going down)--were
tedious, and instead of the passage lasting one hour-and-a-half, it
lasted upwards of two hours and a half, therefore it was nearly eight
o’clock before we reached _Loch Crinan_. We instantly went on board
the “Victoria and Albert,” but it was too late to proceed to _Oban_;
we had, therefore, to lengthen our voyage by a day, and spent the
night at _Crinan_. It is a very fine spot, hills all round, and, in
the distance, those of the island of _Jura_. The yacht had had a good
passage round the _Mull of Cantire_. We dined with Charles, and went on
deck; and the blaze of the numerous bonfires--the half moon, the stars,
and the extreme stillness of the night--had a charming effect.
_Thursday, August 19._
A beautiful day. At nine o’clock we left _Crinan_, proceeding to the
right, up splendid passes, with myriads of islands, and such enchanting
views, that I cannot enumerate them. We passed first up the _Sound
of Jura_, where numbers of people met us in small boats, decorated
with little flags; then up the _Pass of Kerrera_ to _Oban_, one of
the finest spots we have seen, with the ruins of the old _Castle of
Dunolly_ and a range of high mountains in the distance. To the left,
after leaving _Oban_, we saw the _Isle of Kerrera_, and to the right
_Dunstaffnage Castle_, whence came the famous stone which supports the
“Coronation Chair,” in which the sovereigns are crowned at _Westminster
Abbey_. Alexander II. is said to be buried here. We passed close by the
flat rock, called _The Lady’s Rock_, on which a McLean left his wife,
hoping she would be washed away--she was saved however.
We then came into the _Sound of Mull_ by _Tobermory_, a small place
prettily situated, and from thence the views continued beautiful. At
one o’clock we were in sight of the _Isles of Rum_, _Eig_ and _Muck_
(rather large islands, which Lord Salisbury bought a few years ago).
Next we passed the long, flat, curious islands of _Coll_ and _Tiree_.
The inhabitants of these islands have, unhappily, been terrible
sufferers during the last winter from famine. A little further on we
saw, to our right, the _Treshinish Isles_, very curiously-shaped rocks:
one is called _The Dutchman’s Cap_, and has the most strange shape,
thus--
[Illustration]
At three we anchored close before _Staffa_, and immediately got into
the barge with Charles, the children, and the rest of our people,
and rowed towards the cave. As we rounded the point, the wonderful
basaltic formation came in sight. The appearance it presents is most
extraordinary; and when we turned the corner to go into the renowned
_Fingal’s Cave_, the effect was splendid, like a great entrance into
a vaulted hall: it looked almost awful as we entered, and the barge
heaved up and down on the swell of the sea. It is very high, but not
longer than 227 feet, and narrower than I expected, being only 40 feet
wide. The sea is immensely deep in the cave. The rocks, under water,
were all colours--pink, blue, and green--which had a most beautiful
and varied effect. It was the first time the British standard with a
Queen of Great Britain, and her husband and children, had ever entered
_Fingal’s Cave_, and the men gave three cheers, which sounded very
impressive there. We backed out, and then went on a little further to
look at the other cave, not of basaltic formation, and at the point
called _The Herdsman_. The swell was beginning to get up, and perhaps
an hour later we could not have gone in.
We returned to the yacht, but Albert and Charles landed again at
_Staffa_. They returned in three-quarters of an hour, and we then went
on to _Iona_; here Albert and Charles landed, and were absent an hour.
I and the ladies sketched. We saw from the yacht the ruins of the old
cathedral of _St. Oran_. When Albert and Charles returned, they said
the ruins were very curious, there had been two monasteries there, and
fine old crosses and tombs of ancient kings were still to be seen. I
must see it some other time. On Albert’s return we went on again, and
reached _Tobermory_ at nine. The place was all illuminated.
_Friday, August 20._
A wet morning when we rose at half-past seven, and it was pouring with
rain when we left _Tobermory_ at half-past eight. I went down, and drew
and painted. It cleared up about half-past ten, and I came on deck.
The scenery in _Loch Linnhe_ was magnificent--such beautiful mountains.
From _Loch Linnhe_ we entered _Loch Eil_, and passed the entrance
of _Loch Leven_ to the right, at the end of which is _Glencoe_, so
famous for its beautiful scenery and for the horrible massacre of the
Macdonalds, in William III.’s time.
A little before one we arrived at _Fort William_, a very small place.
The afternoon was very bright, and the scenery fine. After luncheon
Albert and Charles set off in the “Fairy” to see _Glencoe_. They
returned at twenty minutes past seven, and Albert thought _Glencoe_ was
very fine, though not quite as much so as he had expected. They had
driven in an extraordinary carriage, with seats for thirty. The people,
who recognized Albert, were so loyal that they took the horses out and
insisted on drawing the carriage.
The evening was excessively cold and showery.
I am quite sorry we shall have to leave our yacht to-morrow, in which
we have been so comfortably housed, and that this delightful voyage
and tour among the Western Lochs and Isles is at an end--they are
so beautiful,--and so full of poetry and romance, traditions, and
historical associations.
_Ardverikie, Loch Laggan, Saturday, August 21._
Alas! a very wet morning. We were ready long before nine o’clock, but
had to wait, as our carriages were not ready. At last we all landed
at _Fort William_, where there was a great gathering of Highlanders,
in their different tartans, with Lord Lovat and Mr. Stuart Mackenzie
at their head. We got into our carriage with Charles and the two
children; there was a great crowd to see us off. We went by a very
wild and lonely road, the latter part extremely fine, with mountains
and streams that reminded us of _Glen Tilt_. We changed horses only
once, and came at length in sight of _Loch Laggan_. It is a beautiful
lake (small in comparison to what we have seen) surrounded by very
fine mountains: the road by its side is extremely pretty. We saw Lord
Abercorn’s house of _Ardverikie_ long before we came to it. At _Laggan_
there is only a small inn, and at the end of the lake, a ferry. Here,
in spite of the pouring rain, were assembled a number of Highlanders,
with Macpherson of Cluny (always called Cluny Macpherson) and three
dear little boys of his, Davidson of Tulloch, and others, with Lord
Abercorn, in full Highland dress. We stepped out of our carriage and
stood upon the floating bridge, and so crossed over in two or three
minutes. We then drove on, in our pony carriages, to _Ardverikie_, and
arrived there in about twenty minutes. It is quite close to the lake,
and the view from the windows, as I now write, though obscured by
rain, is very beautiful, and extremely wild. There is not a village,
house, or cottage within four or five miles: one can only get to it by
the ferry, or by rowing across the lake. The house is a comfortable
shooting-lodge, built of stone, with many nice rooms in it. Stags’
horns are placed along the outside and in the passages; and the walls
of the drawing-room and ante-room are ornamented with beautiful
drawings of stags, by Landseer.
There is little to say of our stay at _Ardverikie_; the country is very
fine, but the weather was most dreadful.
On the 28th, about five o’clock, Albert drove me out across the ferry,
along the _Kingussie_ road, and from here the scenery was splendid:
high bold hills, with a good deal of wood; glens, with the _Pattock_,
and a small waterfall; the meadows here and there, with people making
hay, and cottages sprinkled sparingly about, reminded us much of
_Thüringen_. We drove to the small farm, where Colonel Macpherson now
lives, called _Strathmashie_, and back again, 16 miles in all. We were
delighted with the scenery, which is singularly beautiful, wild and
romantic,--with so much fine wood about it, which greatly enhances the
beauty of a landscape.
_Thursday, September 16._
Albert left at six this morning to go to _Inverness_ and see the
_Caledonian Canal_.
_Friday, September 17._
At two o’clock I left _Ardverikie_ with the children, and reached _Fort
William_ at half-past six, where I had the happiness of finding Albert
on board the yacht. All had gone off well; but the weather had been
very bad. Albert said _Dochfour_ beautiful; the house new and very
elegant, with a fine garden, and Mr. and Lady Georgiana Baillie very
pleasant people.
Albert had to go to _Inverness_, and to stay for a ball that was held
there; and he was everywhere extremely well received. This morning he
saw the _Falls of Foyers_, which, he tells me, are very grand indeed;
and of a great height; and he says that the _Caledonian Canal_ is a
most remarkable work.
_Loch Ryan, Saturday, September 18._
At five o’clock we left _Fort William_. Rather a fine morning; but
very squally, and the sea rough, even where we were. When we came on
deck, we were close to the _Isle of Jura_, which has such a fine, bold
outline. We went on to _Loch Crinan_, where we got into the barge:
here it was very rough and pouring with rain, so unlike the beautiful
evening when we were here a month ago. We landed at _Crinan_. Mr.
Malcolm, whose castle is just opposite, received us there, and we
entered the canal boat at ten. We proceeded more quickly than the last
time; the people kept running along as before, and there was a piper at
each lock. It rained almost the whole time. We reached _Lochgilphead_
at twelve, in pouring rain, and embarked on board the “Black Eagle.”
The yacht had again to go round the _Mull of Cantire_ and meet us at
_Campbeltown_. What a contrast to the weather we had when we came!
We got under weigh, and proceeded by _Kilbrannan Sound_ and _Arran_.
We went on deck for a little while, but were driven below by the
rain; later, however, it was possible to keep on deck. We reached
_Campbeltown_, a small and not pretty place, at the foot of _Cantire_,
at twenty minutes to five. About half an hour after we arrived the
yacht came in, with the “Garland,” “Fairy,” and “Scourge,” and we
immediately went on board. They had had a very bad passage, and
Captain Crispin said he was very glad that we had not been on board
the “Victoria and Albert.” This rather alarmed us for the next day’s
voyage, the more so as the evening was squally and the sky very
unpromising. There was a long consultation as to what was to be done,
and at last it was decided that we should start at four in the morning,
and if it were very rough, we should either run into _Loch Ryan_, the
_Mull of Galloway_, the _Bay of Ramsay_, or into _Douglas_ in the _Isle
of Man_.
_Loch Ryan, Sunday, September 19._
We set off at four o’clock, the yacht rolling considerably; but it
was quite bearable; however, at seven they came to shut down the
port-holes, expecting a heavy sea, and Lord Adolphus saw Albert,
who had just got up, and said it would be very rough; upon which it
was decided to put back a little way, and to go into _Loch Ryan_; we
accordingly did so, and anchored there at half-past eight;--such a
dreary rainy day--one could hardly recognize what was so fine when we
were last in here.
Both now, and the time before when we were in _Loch Ryan_, Lord Orkney
very civilly sent us game and all sorts of things.
At twelve o’clock Lord Adolphus read the short sea-service. We
then talked over our voyage, and what could be done;--the day was
very wretched,--pouring with rain and blowing hard. It was at last
decided to start again at three, and get this evening to the _Mull
of Galloway_, which would only take us three hours, though it would
probably be rough. As soon as we were out of the loch the yacht began
to pitch, and the sea was dreadfully rough. I was very ill. Albert,
however, stood it perfectly, and the children very tolerably. Presently
we came in sight of the _Mull of Galloway_, a great rock with a
lighthouse on it;--and this was our last glimpse of dear _Scotland_.
_Monday, September 20._
At six o’clock we got under weigh, and after considerable “rockings,”
which lasted for nearly two hours, we were near the _Isle of Man_, in
smooth water, and at half-past eight anchored in _Ramsay Bay_.
Albert went on shore, and meantime the Bishop of Sodor and Man, with
others, came on board. Albert returned at twelve. At one o’clock we
started again. We had to go slowly at first, as our paddle-wheel again
got wrong, and because we should otherwise have arrived before we were
expected.
We anchored at seven in _Fleetwood Harbour_; the entrance was extremely
narrow and difficult. We were lashed close to the pier, to prevent our
being turned by the tide; and when I went on deck there was a great
commotion, such running and calling, and pulling of ropes, &c. It was a
cheerless evening, blowing hard.
_Tuesday, September 21._
At ten o’clock we landed, and proceeded by rail to _London_.
_LIFE IN THE HIGHLANDS_,
1848 TO 1861.
Land of brown heath and shaggy wood,
Land of the mountain and the flood,
Land of my sires! what mortal hand
Can e’er untie the filial band
That knits me to thy rugged strand!
Still, as I view each well-known scene,
Think what is now, and what hath been,
Seems as, to me, of all bereft,
Sole friends thy woods and streams are left;
And thus I love them better still,
Even in extremity of ill.
_The Lay of the Last Minstrel._
[Illustration: BALMORAL.--THE OLD CASTLE.
_After a Sketch by Wild._]
FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF BALMORAL.
_Balmoral, Friday, September 8, 1848._
We arrived at _Balmoral_ at a quarter to three. It is a pretty little
castle in the old Scottish style. There is a picturesque tower and
garden in front, with a high wooded hill; at the back there is wood
down to the _Dee_; and the hills rise all around.
There is a nice little hall, with a billiard-room; next to it is the
dining-room. Upstairs (ascending by a good broad staircase) immediately
to the right, and above the dining-room, is our sitting-room (formerly
the drawing-room), a fine large room--next to which is our bed-room,
opening into a little dressing-room which is Albert’s. Opposite, down
a few steps, are the children’s and Miss Hildyard’s three rooms. The
ladies live below, and the gentlemen upstairs.
We lunched almost immediately, and at half-past four we walked out,
and went up to the top of the wooded hill opposite our windows, where
there is a cairn, and up which there is a pretty winding path. The
view from here, looking down upon the house, is charming. To the left
you look towards the beautiful hills surrounding _Loch-na-Gar_, and
to the right, towards _Ballater_, to the glen (or valley) along which
the _Dee_ winds, with beautiful wooded hills, which reminded us very
much of the _Thüringerwald_. It was so calm, and so solitary, it did
one good as one gazed around; and the pure mountain air was most
refreshing. All seemed to breathe freedom and peace, and to make one
forget the world and its sad turmoils.
The scenery is wild, and yet not desolate; and everything looks much
more prosperous and cultivated than at _Laggan_. Then the soil is
delightfully dry. We walked beside the _Dee_, a beautiful, rapid
stream, which is close behind the house. The view of the hills towards
_Invercauld_ is exceedingly fine.
When I came in at half-past six, Albert went out to try his luck with
some stags which lay quite close in the woods, but he was unsuccessful.
They come down of an evening quite near to the house.
FIRST ASCENT OF LOCH-NA-GAR.
_Saturday, September 16, 1848._
At half-past nine o’clock Albert and I set off in a postchaise,
and drove to the bridge in the wood of _Balloch Buie_, about five
miles from _Balmoral_, where our ponies and people were. Here we
mounted, and were attended by a keeper of Mr. Farquharson’s as guide,
Macdonald[20]--who, with his shooting-jacket, and in his kilt, looked
a picture--Grant[21] on a pony, with our luncheon in two baskets,
and Batterbury[22] on another pony. We went through that beautiful
wood for about a mile, and then turned and began to ascend gradually,
the view getting finer and finer; no road, but not bad ground--moss,
heather, and stones. Albert saw some deer when we had been out about
three-quarters of an hour, and ran off to stalk them, while I rested;
but he arrived just a minute too late. He waited for me on the other
side of a stony little burn, which I crossed on my pony, after our
faithful Highlanders had moved some stones and made it easier. We then
went on a little way, and I got off and walked a bit, and afterwards
remounted; Macdonald leading my pony. The view of _Ben-na-Bhourd_, and
indeed of all around, was very beautiful; but as we rose higher we saw
mist over _Loch-na-Gar_. Albert left me to go after ptarmigan, and went
on with Grant, while the others remained with me, taking the greatest
care of me. Macdonald is a good honest man, and was indefatigable, and
poor Batterbury was very anxious also.
[20] A Jäger of the Prince’s, who came from Fort Augustus in the west:
he was remarkably tall and handsome. The poor man died of consumption
at Windsor, in May, 1860. His eldest son was Attaché to the British
Legation in Japan. He died in 1866. The third son, Archie, is Jäger to
the Prince of Wales, and was for a year with the beloved Prince.
[21] Head-keeper. He had been nearly twenty years with Sir Robert
Gordon, nine as keeper; he was born in Braemar, in the year 1810. He
is an excellent man, most trustworthy, of singular shrewdness and
discretion, and most devotedly attached to the Prince and myself.
He has a fine intelligent countenance. The Prince was very fond of
him. He has six sons,--the second, Alick, is wardrobe-man to our son
Leopold: all are good, well-disposed lads, and getting on well in their
different occupations. His mother, a fine, hale, old woman of eighty
years, “stops” in a small cottage which the Prince built for her in our
village. He, himself, lives in a pretty Lodge called Croft, a mile from
Balmoral, which the Prince built for him.
[22] A groom (now dead some years) who followed me in his ordinary
dress, with thin boots and gaiters, and seemed anything but happy. He
hardly ever attended me after this.
I saw ptarmigan get up, and Albert fire--he then disappeared from
my sight, and I rode on. It became cold and misty when we were on
_Loch-na-Gar_. In half an hour, or rather less, Albert rejoined me with
two ptarmigan, having come up by a shorter way. Here it was quite soft,
easy walking, and we looked down on two small lochs called _Na Nian_,
which were very striking, being so high up in the hills. Albert was
tired, and remounted his pony; I had also been walking a little way.
The ascent commenced, and with it a very thick fog, and when we had
nearly reached the top of _Loch-na-Gar_, the mist drifted in thick
clouds so as to hide everything not within one hundred yards of us.
Near the peak (the fine point of the mountain which is seen so well
from above Grant’s house) we got off and walked, and climbed up some
steep stones, to a place where we found a seat in a little nook, and
had some luncheon. It was just two o’clock, so we had taken four hours
going up.
But, alas! nothing whatever to be seen; and it was cold, and wet, and
cheerless. At about twenty minutes after two we set off on our way
downwards, the wind blowing a hurricane, and the mist being like rain,
and everything quite dark with it. Bowman (Mr. Farquharson’s keeper)
and Macdonald, who preceded us, looked like ghosts. We walked some way
till I was quite breathless, and remounted my pony, well wrapped up
in plaids; and we came down by the same path that Albert had come up,
which is shorter, but steeper; the pony went delightfully; but the mist
made me feel cheerless.
Albert kept ahead a little while for ptarmigan, but he gave it up
again. When we had gone on about an hour and a quarter, or an-hour-and-
a-half, the fog disappeared like magic, and all was sunshine below,
about one thousand feet from the top I should say. Most provoking!--and
yet one felt happy to see sunshine and daylight again.
The view, as one descends, overlooking _Invercauld_ and the wood which
is called _Balloch Buie_, is most lovely. We saw some deer in the wood
below. We rode on till after we passed the burn, and had nearly got to
the wood. We came another way down, by a much rougher path; and then,
from the road in the wood, we walked up to the _Falls of the Garbhalt_,
which are beautiful. The rocks are very grand, and the view from the
little bridge, and also from a seat a little lower down, is extremely
pretty. We found our carriages in the road, and drove home by six
o’clock.
We met Captain Gordon, and then Lord John Russell and Sir James Clark.
They had come to look after us, and when we got home we found the two
ladies at the door waiting most anxiously for us.
A “DRIVE” IN THE BALLOCH BUIE.
_September 18, 1848._
At a quarter-past ten o’clock we set off in a postchaise with Bertie,
and drove beyond the house of Mr. Farquharson’s keeper in the _Balloch
Buie_. We then mounted our ponies, Bertie riding Grant’s pony on the
deer-saddle, and being led by a gillie, Grant walking by his side.
Macdonald and several gillies were with us, and we were preceded by
Bowman and old Arthur Farquharson, a deer-stalker of Invercauld’s.
They took us up a beautiful path winding through the trees and heather
in the _Balloch Buie_; but when we had got about a mile or more they
discovered deer. A “council of war” was held in a whisper, and we
turned back and went the whole way down again, and rode along to the
keeper’s lodge, where we turned up the glen immediately below _Craig
Daign_, through a beautiful part of the wood, and went on along the
track, till we came to the foot of the craig, where we all dismounted.
We scrambled up an almost perpendicular place to where there was a
little _box_, made of hurdles and interwoven with branches of fir and
heather, about five feet in height. There we seated ourselves with
Bertie, Macdonald lying in the heather near us, watching and quite
concealed; some had gone round to beat, and others again were at a
little distance. We sat quite still, and sketched a little; I doing
the landscape and some trees, Albert drawing Macdonald as he lay
there. This lasted for nearly an hour, when Albert fancied he heard a
distant sound, and, in a few minutes, Macdonald whispered that he saw
stags, and that Albert should wait and take a steady aim. We then heard
them coming past. Albert did not look over the box, but through it,
and fired through the branches, and then again over the box. The deer
retreated; but Albert felt certain he had hit a stag. He ran up to the
keepers, and at that moment they called from below that they “had got
him,” and Albert ran on to see. I waited for a bit; but soon scrambled
on with Bertie and Macdonald’s help; and Albert joined me directly,
and we all went down and saw a magnificent stag, “a royal,” which had
dropped, soon after Albert had hit him, at one of the men’s feet. The
sport was successful, and every one was delighted,--Macdonald and the
keepers in particular;--the former saying, “that it was her Majesty’s
coming out that had brought the good luck.” I was supposed to have “a
lucky foot,” of which the Highlanders “think a great deal.” We walked
down to the place we last came up, got into the carriage, and were home
by half-past two o’clock.
The First Stay at Alt-na-Giuthasach.
_August 30, 1849._