GLASGOW--THE ROB-ROY COUNTRY--THE LAKES--CALLENDER--STIRLING.
On their own soil, or anywhere in the world, the record of the Scotch
is good. Those hard-working and reflective qualities, nurtured by John
Knox, have borne fruit. Not dependent on priest or bishop for rule or
thought, the people have long felt their individual responsibility.
Industry, frugality, integrity, have been nursed by the child with its
mother's milk. A hard theology cramped the mind in exploring fields
of philosophy, and the range of thought has been limited. The people
employed so much time in preparing for another life, that they had
but little to devote to making themselves comfortable in this world.
Indeed, comfort was considered suspicious; but these conditions were
preparing them to contend with German Rationalism, and the blending of
the two will make a good harvest. While the Scotch element has been
eminently conservative, and so a brake on the wheels of a hurried
advance, the German element has been doing its work of lifting thought
to a higher plane. Each has given and received, and American thought,
engendered three thousand miles away, is a golden mean between the two.
Calvinism in America has been at its best, and also, we trust, at its
worst. The German mind has also influenced America. The flint and the
steel strike fire, and it is consuming the superstitions of one system,
and purifying the rationalism of the other.
At 6.30 P. M. we ride out of the Carlisle station. The sun is
yet high, and the fine scenery of Northern England meets our view. It
is more hilly than it is farther south, and better wooded. Everything
looks more like New England. Gardens prevail, and many things to remind
us of home. Nothing struck us more strangely than the length of the
days, and, to use an Irishman's expression, "the evening end of them."
At 9 o'clock P. M. we can see to read and write; and at Paris
a month later, July 4, we could see to write distinctly at 9.30 P.
M., and could see the time by the watch at 9.50. After a ride of
three hours, we glide into the station at
GLASGOW.
This chief commercial and manufacturing city of Scotland is situated on
the River Clyde, twenty-one miles from its mouth, and forty-one miles
southwest of Edinburgh, and has a population of 477,141, or, including
the suburbs, 547,538. The level city is three miles long, and lies on
both sides of the river, which is five hundred feet wide, crossed by
two suspension and three stone bridges, and has several ferries.
It became a _burgh_, or town, as early as 1190, and was then granted
the privilege of holding an annual fair. In 1556 it ranked the eleventh
among the towns of Scotland. It is the fourth town in Great Britain in
its exports, and the second in wealth and population. The Romans had
a station on the Clyde at the location of the present city. In 1300
a battle was fought in what is now High Street, between the English
and Wallace, and in it the noted Percy was slain. In 1650 Reformed
Superintendents superseded Catholic Bishops; and in 1638 the famous
Assembly of the Presbyterian church was held here, and Episcopacy was
abjured. For several years after, the city was a prey to both parties
in the civil wars, and fire, plague, plunder, and famine desolated the
place. June 4, 1690, the charter of William and Mary conferred on the
townsmen the right of electing their own magistrates.
Glasgow is well laid out; the streets are wide and clean, and there
is little to be seen that is peculiar. The aspect is commercial.
Stores and warehouses prevail, and the question often arises, "Where
do the people live?" The centres of population are around outside
the business portion, and the mansions exhibit more thoroughness of
construction than fancy in decoration. We are in one of the great
places of Scotland, not in one of France or Germany; this fact is
everywhere apparent. Liverpool represents it, not Paris. The city has
four parks. The Green has 140 acres, on the north bank of the river,
and near the east end of the city. Kelvingrove Park has 40 acres at
the west end; Queen's Park, 100 acres. Alexandra Park has 85 acres, on
elevated ground, portions of it commanding views of the entire city.
A stream runs through it, and primeval groves, grand avenues, lawns,
and flower-plots make the place one of great attraction. On Sunday, at
the time of our visit, tens of thousands were enjoying it. Adjoining
this are the grounds of Glasgow University, yet more elevated. The
grand edifice is of a domesticated Gothic architecture, built of gray
limestone, and stands on the highest ground. It was finished in 1870,
and cost $1,650,000. This college was founded in 1443 by James II.,
but it had only a feeble existence till 1560, when Queen Mary bestowed
upon it one half of all the confiscated church property of the city.
The library was founded in 1473, and contains 105,000 volumes. It has
an observatory and a good cabinet, and the grounds contain 22 acres.
The city is supplied with water from the celebrated Loch Katrine, by an
aqueduct 26 miles long, and it sustains two theatres, two museums, and
as many public libraries. It has 175 churches and chapels, and a very
fine botanic garden of 40 acres, which is kept in perfect condition and
open free to visitors.
The cathedral is of all edifices of the kind the most ancient looking.
It is on the border of the city, and enclosed with a high iron fence,
being surrounded by a small burial-ground. A peculiarity is that
many tombs and monuments are entirely encaged, the top included.
The iron-work, generally about four feet wide, seven feet long, and
seven feet high, is rusty and produces a disagreeable effect. We were
disgusted with the appearance of the grounds of this metropolitan
church, really the finest old Gothic building in Scotland. It is
not large but is on a site that overlooks most of the city. It was
begun in 1192, and was ready for consecration in 1197. It enjoyed an
unmolested use for the papal worship during four hundred years; but,
notwithstanding this long service, it was not finished till the present
century. Its noteworthy features are the crypt and a profusion of
brilliant stained glass. Near the cathedral is a cemetery called the
Necropolis, situated on very elevated ground, and highly attractive.
The place is approached from the cathedral by a grand stone bridge,
and has a park-like entrance and inside avenues at the base of the
hill. This burial-place, built for all time, was provided by private
munificence, and makes the cage-work and ill-managed grounds of the
cathedral look all the more heathenish. The cemetery is not large but
may comprise three or four acres. It is on high land, that, but for
the terraces and inclined avenues traversing the hillside, would be
very difficult of ascent; but good engineering makes it most inviting.
The views from this spot of the city and suburbs are very grand, and
it is constantly resorted to as a park. One peculiarity of the place
is the number of neat monuments, and a general absence of ordinary
gravestones. The monuments are nearly all of white marble, and set in
close rows. There are more beautiful designs than we have seen before
or since. The taste manifested is exquisite, and would do honor to
Paris,--instead of dishonor, as do the monuments of the noted Père La
Chaise, the Mount Auburn of France.
In this ground is an imposing monument, erected to martyrs, whose blood
is "the seed of the church." The statements on this monument interest
not only the people of Glasgow but Americans; and so, although the cold
and intense wind makes it a work of difficulty, we copy them. They have
been read by thousands and will be read by thousands more; they inspire
fortitude, and will thus be a perpetual honor to the noble ones whom
they commemorate. On the west side is the following:--
TO TESTIFY GRATITUDE FOR INESTIMABLE SERVICES
IN THE CAUSE OF RELIGION, EDUCATION, AND CIVIL
LIBERTY;
TO AWAKEN ADMIRATION
OF THAT INTEGRITY, DISINTERESTEDNESS, AND COURAGE
WHICH STOOD UNSHAKEN IN THE MIDST OF TRIALS,
AND IN THE MAINTENANCE OF THE HIGHEST OBJECTS;
FINALLY,
TO CHERISH UNCEASING REVERENCE FOR THE PRINCIPLES
AND
BLESSINGS OF THAT GREAT REFORMATION
BY THE INFLUENCE OF WHICH OUR COUNTRY THROUGH THE
MIDST OF DIFFICULTIES
HAS RISEN TO HONOR, PROSPERITY, AND HAPPINESS,
THIS MONUMENT IS ERECTED BY VOLUNTARY CONTRIBUTION
TO THE MEMORY OF JOHN KNOX;
THE CHIEF INSTRUMENT UNDER GOD OF THE REFORMATION
IN SCOTLAND, ON THE 22ND DAY OF SEPTEMBER 1825.
HE DIED--REJOICING IN THE FAITH OF THE GOSPEL--
AT EDINBURGH--
ON THE 24TH OF NOVEMBER A.D. 1572, IN THE
67TH YEAR OF HIS AGE.
On the north side is the following:--
PATRICK HAMILTON, A YOUTH OF HIGH RANK
AND DISTINGUISHED ATTAINMENTS,
WAS THE FIRST MARTYR IN SCOTLAND FOR THE CAUSE OF
THE REFORMATION.
HE WAS CONDEMNED TO THE FLAMES AT ST. ANDREWS IN
1528 IN THE
TWENTY-FOURTH YEAR OF HIS AGE.
FROM 1530 TO 1540 PERSECUTION RAGED IN EVERY
QUARTER; MANY SUFFERED
THE MOST CRUEL DEATHS; AND MANY FLED TO ENGLAND
AND THE CONTINENT.
AMONG THESE EARLY MARTYRS WERE JEROME RUSSELL
AND ALEXANDER KENNEDY
TWO YOUNG MEN OF GREAT PIETY AND TALENTS WHO
SUFFERED AT GLASGOW
IN 1538. IN 1544 GEORGE WISHART RETURNED TO
SCOTLAND FROM WHICH HE HAD
BEEN BANISHED, AND PREACHED THE GOSPEL IN
VARIOUS QUARTERS. IN 1546
THIS HEAVENLY MINDED MAN, THE FRIEND AND
INSTRUCTOR OF KNOX, WAS ALSO
COMMITTED TO THE FLAMES AT ST. ANDREWS.
The south side has the following:--
THE REFORMATION PRODUCED A REVOLUTION IN THE
SENTIMENTS OF MANKIND
THE GREATEST AS WELL AS THE MOST BENEFICENT THAT
HAS HAPPENED SINCE THE
PUBLICATION OF CHRISTIANITY.
IN 1547, AND IN THE CITY WHERE HIS FRIEND GEORGE
WISHART HAD SUFFERED,
JOHN KNOX, SURROUNDED WITH DANGERS, FIRST
PREACHED THE DOCTRINE OF THE
REFORMATION. IN 1559 ON THE 24TH OF AUGUST, THE
PARLIAMENT OF SCOTLAND
ADOPTED THE CONFESSION OF FAITH PRESENTED BY THE
REFORMED
MINISTER, AND DECLARED POPERY TO BE NO LONGER
THE RELIGION
OF THIS KINGDOM. JOHN KNOX BECAME THE MINISTER
OF EDINBURGH, WHERE HE CONTINUED TO
HIS DEATH THE INCORRUPTIBLE GUARDIAN OF OUR BEST
INTERESTS.
"I CAN TAKE GOD TO WITNESS," HE DECLARED, "THAT I
NEVER PREACHED CONTEMPT
OF ANY MAN AND WISE MEN WILL CONSIDER
THAT A TRUE FRIEND CANNOT
FLATTER; ESPECIALLY IN A CASE THAT INVOLVES THE
SALVATION OF THE BODIES AND
SOULS, NOT OF A FEW PERSONS, BUT OF A WHOLE REALM."
WHEN LAID IN THE
GRAVE THE REGENT SAID, "THERE LIETH HE WHO
NEVER FEARED THE FACE OF MAN,
WHO WAS OFTEN THREATENED WITH THE DAG AND
DAGGER, YET HATH ENDED HIS DAYS IN PEACE AND HONOR."
On the east side we have the following:--
AMONG THE EARLY AND DISTINGUISHED FRIENDS OF
THE REFORMATION,
SHOULD BE ESPECIALLY REMEMBERED SIR JAMES
SANDILANDS,
OF CALDER, ALEXANDER EARL OF GLENCAIRN,
ARCHIBALD, EARL OF ARGYLL, AND LORD JAMES STEWART,
AFTERWARDS KNOWN BY THE NAME OF "THE GOOD
REGENT:"
JOHN ERSKINE OF DUN, AND JOHN ROW, WHO WERE
DISTINGUISHED AMONG
THE REFORMED MINISTERS FOR THEIR CULTIVATION OF
ANCIENT AND MODERN LITERATURE.
CHRISTOPHER GOODMAN AND JOHN WILLOCK, WHO
CAME FROM ENGLAND
TO PREACH THE GOSPEL IN SCOTLAND; JOHN WINRAM,
JOHN SPOTTISWOOD, AND JOHN DOUGLASS, WHO WITH
JOHN ROW AND JOHN KNOX COMPILED THE FIRST
CONFESSION OF FAITH
WHICH WAS PRESENTED TO THE PARLIAMENT OF SCOTLAND,
AND ALSO THE
FIRST BOOK OF DISCIPLINE.
The monument is composed of a plinth, some six feet square, upon
which is another of less dimensions, with the sides somewhat inclined
inward, bearing the inscriptions; then, two low plinths smaller yet;
and resting on these is a Grecian Doric column some two feet or more
in diameter; and on the abacus, or cap, at its corners, are ornaments
above it. Next there is a low pedestal, or corniced plinth, and the
whole is surmounted by a life-size statue of John Knox. The whole may
be about thirty-five feet high.
The city, though largely given to traffic, has extensive manufactures.
Among these are the St. Rollox chemical works, the largest in the
world, covering sixteen acres, and employing a thousand men. The
chimney is 450 feet high, 220 feet higher than the large one at East
Cambridge, Mass.; or, to make it more definite, it is exactly the
height of the East Cambridge chimney with Bunker Hill Monument on top
of it, for they are respectively 230 and 220 feet high. There is one in
Glasgow ten feet higher than this,--that belonging to the artificial
manure works, which measures 460 feet.
At 11.30 on this Sunday we attended service at one of the Presbyterian
churches. As an act of charity let the church be nameless, for
we must add that the services were very tedious. The prayer was
extraordinarily long and prosy; six verses were sung in each psalm; the
explanatory remarks on the Scripture readings were long and tame; and
the sermon, of a full hour's length, while well written and delivered,
was a rehash of the commonest platitudes. While the theologic world
moves, this parish was too near an ancient theologic centre to derive
much advantage from the motion. It is yet a philosophic question
whether the exact axis of a revolving shaft moves at all, and we
can but think that a part of the Presbyterian Church of Scotland is
near such a fixed centre. But we went to hear some actual Scotch
Presbyterianism, and were not sorry that we did so; though conscious
that we could have displayed fortitude under our disappointment, had we
found the stanch Knoxites discussing the signs of the times.
We love this old church for the vast good it has done. As our ships
need anchors, so the Church Universal needs conservatives; and, in
spite of our liberalism, she will have them as long as they are needed.
There was more order in Glasgow, more of the Puritan's quiet Sunday,
than we ever saw before, at home or abroad. There are no horse-cars
or omnibuses visible, and few teams of any kind. No shops were open,
though there were many drunken people. Sunday drinking is prohibited;
though the sale is licensed on other days, as in Boston. It is said to
be "under wholesome management." Transpose the syllables, and instead
of _wholesome_ say _somewhole_, and you have the truth. At the Albion
Hotel we had thought ourselves in a temperance house, at least for
Sunday; but all day long groups of all ages and conditions and both
sexes were at the bar; and so large was the number that a sentinel
only let in new customers when others went out. Till ten at night the
rum-mill was in operation. License men to do wrong, and you throw the
reins on the back of your horse. Spend less time in the church, and
devote more to enforcing the law, and God's kingdom will sooner come.
June 1 is as cold and damp as a Boston day in March or April. Great
coats are near us, as good friends ought to be.
At 10 P. M. to bed,--not to sleep, nor, as Shakespeare has
it, to dream, but to hear the incessant tramp of the tipplers; "aye,
_there's_ the rub;" but we drop a veil over the theme. We arose at
dawn, breakfasted by-and-by, and at 7 P. M. continued our tour
towards Edinburgh, sorry for some things that must be said, if we would
fully describe the Glasgow that now _is_,--not the Glasgow that is to
be.
The passage to Edinburgh may be made in a few hours, but we are to go
the way of all tourists who can afford a day or two for the journey.
We follow down the Clyde for some miles, amid pleasing, though not
very interesting scenery. There on our left are the ruins of Dumbarton
Castle, situated on a cliff, and picturesque amidst their solitary
beauty. This was once a fortress, and is the place from which Mary,
Queen of Scots, took passage for France when a child.
A few miles more, and we arrive at Balloch. This is a little hamlet at
the south end of Loch Lomond. This lake covers forty-five square miles,
and is one of the Scottish lake-group, corresponding to the Killarney
lakes in Ireland. We here embark in a fine little steamer. The lake is
not large in appearance, as its small bays occupy much of its area;
and in most respects it resembles the upper lake of Killarney, or our
lakes George and Winnipiseogee. The water is clear, and the margin
prettily wooded; and this end is well studded with islands. There is a
grandeur about the highlands of Scotland not to be seen on the Irish
lakes. Prominent among the mountains is Ben Lomond, standing out in
sublime greatness. It is 3,192 feet high; but, while really lower
than some hills at Killarney, its contour intensifies its impression.
We appreciate its companionship, and, as we sail on, are constantly
introduced to Ben Lomond's companions. Ben Dhu, as it is familiarly
called, though the real name is Ben MacDhui, is 4,296 feet high. These
highlands are rugged in their outline, and present vast glens, crags,
ravines, and broken peaks, being unlike those of southern Ireland,
which are generally smooth and rounded. The mountain haze is seen in
great perfection, and the hills are well wooded, and exhibit a splendid
verdure. There is a peculiar moisture and softness in the air, with a
fragrant and stimulating quality. In contradistinction to the Irish
lakes, these of Scotland have a bold and masculine appearance. We speak
of elegance and nicety at Ireland's lakes, but here we have, added to
those qualities, vastness and power reflected from their mountains.
We admire Glen Luss, Bannochar, and Glen Fruin, as well as other
objects of interest touched upon in the "Lady of the Lake," especially
in the rower's song, "Hail to the Chief," for we are at the very scene
of the poem. It adds a charm to recall the fact that many a time Sir
Walter Scott here sailed and admired; and afterwards recalled his
thought,--intensifying it and materializing all, till his verse became
a thing of life. Our steamer touches at Landing Luss, on the left, and
at Rowardennan on the right; then we cross to Tarbet on the left, and
after an inspiring sail of two hours we are at Inversnaid. This is an
old fort and a landing. It is of no importance as a fort, but was built
in 1713, as a defence against the Macgregors, led by the celebrated Rob
Roy.
The principal interest in the place lies in the fact of its having
been the _lairdship_ of Rob Roy before he became an outlaw and a
freebooter. Lower down, at the foot of Ben Lomond, we are shown the
prison, a rocky fastness at the edge of the water, where it is said
he confined his captives. Every nook of these Highlands is full of
romance. The writings of Sir Walter have surcharged the very atmosphere
with it; and people who are ever so matter-of-fact at home, here become
permeated with the etherialistic influence. Ideality has free play. At
home they say, "I don't believe a word of it." Here they are different
people, and say, "It may have been so." Rob Roy, whose history has been
immortalized by Scott in his novel of that name, was largely connected
with this neighborhood. A few words concerning him may be of service
to the reader who has not the history at hand. He was born about 1660,
the exact time and place not being known. He died, it is said, at
Aberfoyle in 1738, at about the age of seventy-seven. His true name was
Robert Macgregor, which, when the clan Macgregor was outlawed by the
Parliament of Scotland in 1693, he changed for that of his mother, and
was afterward known as Robert Campbell. Prior to the Great Rebellion
of 1715 he was a cattle-dealer. He was very artful and intriguing, and
gave the Duke of Montrose an excuse for seizing his lands, and then
retaliated by reprisals on the Duke; and for many years he continued
his double-facedness, levying blackmail on his dupes and enemies, in
spite of a garrison of English soldiers stationed near his residence.
We now leave our steamer and take open teams, with four fine horses to
each, for a ride of eight miles to Loch Katrine. Never a finer ride
than this, over the beautiful heaths of Scotland. The mountain scenery
is exquisite in all directions. At times we ride along precipitous
paths, where we can look down from "awfully giddy heights to valleys
low," the road winding amid the hills and constantly changing beauties.
A heavily wooded country and splendid vegetation prevail, and there is
no trace of barrenness, as in the Gap of Dunloe.
We go along the shore of the meandering river and Lake Arklett, and
now the driver tells us that here was the cottage of Helen Macgregor.
Mountains are about us, and here is an enclosed plain, perhaps half
a mile wide and a mile long, level as our house floors, and nearly
covered with heather,--which is a sort of heath, quite like that grown
by us as a house-plant, and, being of a dark tint, gives a purplish
hue to the moor. The space we are now going over, all between the two
lakes, is the country referred to in the novel. Over these very roads
that singular fellow rode and walked. The air here was remarkably
exhilarating. It seemed new, as if it was for the first time breathed.
The ride was much too short. There were millions of reasons for wishing
it longer, so many things were waiting to entertain us on the right
hand and on the left, before and behind us, under foot and overhead.
It was good for us to be there, and the inclination was strong upon us
to build tabernacles. At length Loch Katrine was reached. It contains
an area of only five square miles, and is the one, though twenty-seven
miles away, from which water is taken for the city of Glasgow. It is
claimed that it is one of the finest lakes in the world, and it is
certain that no one can imagine its superior. The teams leave us at a
very comfortable two-story hotel, at the head of the lake, and here we
are to dine; which service over, we walk out for a ramble, as an hour
is to elapse before the steamer arrives from the other end of the lake.
A wide road separates the hotel from the latter; a wharf extends from
it, and to the left is a sea-wall, perhaps a hundred feet long, with a
protective rail along the top. To the left of that, and in the corner,
on the border of the lake, is a fine grove belonging to the hotel, with
swings and other entertainments for tourists. In the rear of the house
are the stables; and back of these, and around and back of the grove,
is a hill which anywhere but in Scotland would be called a mountain. To
the right of the hotel, and bordering the lake, were a grove and field,
with here and there a cottage. The mountains in the distance loomed
up grandly; and the borders of the lake, while more or less irregular
and indented, had a very clean-cut look. The lake was not very wide
here,--perhaps a fourth of a mile,--and it stretched on, without much
change.
We take the little steamer here at Stronaclacher,--we had almost
forgotten to tell the name,--and as we look down into the crystal
water, it seems too pure for a steamer to sail in, for it is quite
equal in clearness to Seneca Lake, New York, and reminds one of it.
Remove the town of Geneva from its cosy situation at the end of the
lake; put there a long wooden hotel; border the shores with a heavily
wooded country to the water's edge; add some mountains off in the
distance to the right and the left, at Ovid, Lodi, and Hector; put some
more opposite on the other side of the lake, and a large lot of them at
Watkins; then condense all to one quarter the size, and you have the
size and shape of Loch Katrine.
We have now left the Rob-Roy Country, and are in that of the "Lady of
the Lake," for this Lake Katrine is the one Sir Walter had in mind when
he penned that fairy-like romance. We come first to a little island,
well covered with trees and thick shrubbery, where the meeting of
Fitzjames and Douglas is assumed to have taken place, and where the
charming heroine was seen in her boat. Ragged Ben Venu appears; and
ahead of that are the sharp peaks of Ben A'an, the whole surrounded
by heavy woodlands, here and there extending well up the mountains,
and marked by great glens and gorges. After the sail of an hour,
much too soon we change our vehicle; and here, at the little wharf,
carriages are ready to take us to Callender. Our party numbers about
thirty, and we are to go through the Trosachs, which comprise some of
the finest scenery in Scotland. We soon arrived at Ardcheanocrohan, a
fifteen-lettered place, whose name we were shy in pronouncing; and we
confess it takes some courage to write it, but we presume it's good
Scotch.
As we stand at the door of the tavern,--that's just what it is,--or
rather as we sit on our coach-seat in front of the building and look
across the lake, there, in superb repose, three or four miles away, is
the Clachan of Aberfoyle, well remembered by the readers of "Rob Roy."
We ride through mountain scenery, equalling if not excelling any at the
White Mountains of New Hampshire, and strongly reminding one of the
Notch. Our road winds to the right, and Loch Achry comes to view,--a
lovely gem we would fain transport to America.
In due time we arrive at the Turk Water, and the place celebrated in
the "Lady of the Lake," where, as Sir Walter says,--
When the Brigg of Turk was won,
The foremost horseman rode alone.
This is a single-arched stone bridge, which crosses this stream. We are
now introduced to the great pine-lands of the Glenfinlas. The trees
are very tall, and the scenery is wild and unusual. In front is the
heathery Craig Moor, Glenfinlas Hills, with their winding valleys, and
Loch Vennachar with its clear water and bordering shrubs. We pass a
waterfall, which runs out of Loch Katrine, and helps to supply Glasgow
with its water. This used to be known by the uneuphonious name of
Coilantogle Ford, and is the spot where Fitzjames and Roderick Dhu had
their conflict. Now appears the stately Ben Ledi, one of the tallest
giants. We pass on, over the Callender bridge, and are at the town of
CALLENDER,
an old settlement of small account. It has a main street bordered by
stone and brick houses with pleasant grounds.
We take the train for Stirling, and lose sight of the hill-country
which for hours has enraptured us. It was the treat of a lifetime, and
as such to be appreciated and enjoyed. We pass the town of Dumblane, to
which allusion is made in the song of "Jessie, the Flower of Dunblane,"
and then over the famed Bridge of Allan, familiar by the ballad of
"Allan Water."
After a ride of an hour, at 5 P. M. we approach
STIRLING.
This is a place of special note. It is situated on the River Forth,
thirty-one miles from Edinburgh, and has a population of 14,279. In
beauty of situation it rivals the capital. The buildings present an
appearance of modernized antiquity, being interspersed with mansions of
the Scottish Nobles. The society here is highly aristocratic. Stirling
was a favorite place of residence for James V., who died at Falkland,
Dec. 13, 1542. He was one of the kings of Scotland, born at Linlithgow
Palace, April 13, 1512. The old House of Parliament, built by him, is
still standing, and now used as barracks. The ancient Gothic church is
the one in which James VI. was crowned, and there are the remains of
an unfinished palace, begun in 1570, by the Regent, the Earl of Mar.
Near the town are the ruins of the famed Cambuskenneth Abbey; and not
far from the town, perhaps three miles away, is the celebrated field
of Bannockburn, on which the battle was fought June 24, 1314. War
had raged between England and Scotland for many years under Edward
II., who, in contentions with his parliament, had neglected Scotland.
Robert Bruce III. recovered all of Scotland with the exception of
the fortress in Stirling, which alone held out for the English; and
even that, the governor, Mowbray, had agreed to surrender, if it was
not relieved before the feast of John the Baptist. Edward was aroused
by this report, and he encamped near it at the head of a large army.
He was met by Bruce with 30,000 picked men, on the eve before the day
fixed for surrender. The battle of Bannockburn was the result, and
ended in the utter defeat of the English. Bruce was now able to dictate
terms, and he exchanged prisoners for his wife, sister, and other
relatives, who had long been in captivity to the English. This success
being attained, the Scotch assumed the offensive, and invaded Ireland;
and, meeting with success there, Edward Bruce, brother of Robert, was
crowned king of that country, May 2, 1316.
As one stands at the castle, 220 feet above the surrounding land, two
miles away lies Bannockburn; a few stone walls and a grove designate
the famed spot. The eye takes in a wide scene of unparalleled beauty.
Cows and sheep graze peacefully there, with no one to disturb or
molest. The air is free from suggestions of smoke of powder or boom of
cannon.