As we sailed down the Moray Firth with a northerly wind, which enabled
us to stand close in shore, the water being perfectly smooth, we passed
numerous headlands, the names of which we learned from the chart. After
the mountainous scenery amid which we had been sailing, the shore looked
flat and uninteresting.
I had thus plenty of time to attend to little Nat, who was fast becoming
very dear to all of us. We looked forward with regret to the time when
he might be sent away to join his friends, should they be found. He had
learned to walk the deck in true nautical style; and in his sailor's
suit, with his broad-brimmed straw hat, he looked every inch a young
seaman. He was generally in capital spirits, apparently forgetting his
loss; but if any allusion brought back to his remembrance his father,
mother, or Aunt Fanny, his brothers and sisters, the tears sprang to his
eyes, and he looked grave and sad.
Happily, however, a cheerful word brought him back to his usual mood,
and he became as merry as ever.
"Do you know, Harry," he said to me one day, "I intend to be a sailor.
I should like to have just such a vessel as this, and cruise about the
world that you tell me is round, though I cannot make it out; still, as
you say so, I am sure it is."
I pointed to the top-gallant sails of a vessel on which the sun was
shining brightly,--"Now, watch that sail, and in a short time you will
see her topsails, and then her courses, and then the hull. If the world
was not round, we should see them all at once, just as clearly as we now
see the top-gallant sails."
As I spoke I took up a large ball of spun yarn, and placing a splinter
on it, I advanced the piece of wood gradually until he saw the whole of
it. "Now, this splinter represents that ship," I said, pointing to it.
"As we also are moving towards her, we shall soon see all her sails and
her hull."
Nat kept watching the ship with intense interest; and although summoned
to luncheon, he begged that he might have something brought up to him,
so that he could watch her hull come in sight. This in a short time
happened, when he clapped his hands and shouted--
"Now I know that the world is round; but I thought it was so very big it
could make no difference."
"Well," exclaimed Dick, who had been listening to my remark, "I never
knew before how it was people guessed that the world was round. I saw
ships' sails popping up out of the ocean, but had not any idea how it
was, and did not like to ask."
"There you showed your want of wisdom," observed papa; "you should have
tried to think the matter out, or inquired."
The wind continued to favour us, drawing gradually to the westward. We
sighted a red light on Kinnaird's Head, which, as we got more to the
eastward, changed to a bright colour. Beyond it was Fraserburgh. By
hauling our wind we were able to steer for Rathay Head. Near it we
caught sight of Inverugie Castle. We gave a wide berth to the head,
from which a dangerous reef of rocks run out; for though the ocean was
tolerably calm, we could see the water breaking over them.
We were now hoping, as the wind was off shore, to stand due south for
Aberdeen, which we were all anxious to see. We had sighted Slaines
Castle, standing out solitary and grand on the very edge of the crag,
when the wind suddenly backed round to the southward, and in a short
time began to blow very hard. Dark clouds, which had been gathering
thickly in the horizon to the south-east, came careering on over the
blue sky. In spite of the heavy sea which was getting up, we held our
course, standing away from the land, intending to tack again when we
could to fetch Aberdeen. By the way the Dolphin was tumbling about I
could readily understand how we must have appeared to her. Dick began
to show signs of being far from happy, and Nat's cheerfulness entirely
left him. Papa sent him down below, and told him to turn in. Dick,
however, braved it out, but grew more and more yellow and woebegone.
"This won't do," observed papa; "it's fortunate that we have a port
under our lee. Up helm, ease away the main sheet. We'll let the
Dolphin know that we are running for Peterhead."
The Dolphin followed our example; and away we went, careering on before
the fast-rising seas. Very glad we were that we had so fine a harbour
to run for. The gale blew harder and harder, and the waves looked as if
every instant they would engulf us; for we were now exposed to the whole
roll of the German Ocean. On sailing in we were struck by the
remarkable appearance of the flesh-coloured pinkish rocks, whose
needle-shaped points rose up out of the water. We had, however, little
time to notice them, ere rushing by we brought-up in the harbour of
Peterhead. Most thankfully we dropped our anchor and furled our sails.
Peterhead appeared to be a bustling place. A number of merchant
vessels, coasters, and fishing-boats were at anchor. As the days were
long, we hoped the gale would blow itself out before the next morning.
Directly we had dined we set off on foot to visit a curious cavern
called the "Bullers of Buchan." After walking for about two hours we
found ourselves on the top of a cliff, from whence we looked down into
an immense cauldron some fifty feet in diameter, open at the bottom to
the sea, which was rushing in, and whirling round and round in foaming
masses. We went round it, between the cauldron and the sea, where the
ledge, with the foaming whirlpool on one side and the perpendicular
cliffs on the other, was sufficiently narrow to make us feel the
necessity of keeping our eyes open. On the west side, or the furthest
from the ocean, we observed that the water rushed under an arch. A
person told us that in fine weather a boat could pass under this arch,
though at present one would have been immediately dashed to pieces. The
whole cliff was completely perforated by caverns. "Buller," I should
have said, means the "boiler." Having watched it until our ears were
wellnigh deafened by the roar, and our eyes dizzy from gazing at the
seething whirlpool, we hastened on to get a sight of Slaines Castle,
which we had seen from the sea. As we viewed it from a distance, the
walls appeared to be a continuation of the cliff on the summit of which
it stands. It is a large quadrangular building, without a tree in the
neighbourhood. It had a somewhat gloomy aspect under the dark sky when
we saw it. The property belonged, till lately, to the Earl of Errol,
whose nearest neighbour to the eastward was, as Dick said, "Hamlet's
Ghost," or the Castle of Elsinore, which stands on the shores of the
Skagerack.
We had spent a longer time in visiting the castle than we had intended,
and had only got a short distance back when we were overtaken by the
gloom of evening. The wind was blowing dead on shore, and a tremendous
sea running. We were casting our eyes over the German Ocean, when we
saw what we took to be a brig, with her mainmast gone, and several of
her sails blown away, evidently steering for Peterhead. Unable to keep
close to the wind, she was drifting every instant nearer and nearer the
shore.
"I fear she'll not weather that point," observed papa; "and if she comes
on shore, there'll be little chance for any of her people, as no
lifeboat could get near her."
We had passed a Coastguard station a little way to the northward. Uncle
Tom volunteered to hurry on, and I accompanied him--in case the people
there should not have observed the brig--to give them notice of the
danger she was in; that, should she strike, they might be ready to
render assistance with their rocket apparatus.
It was now quite dark, and we had great difficulty in making our way;
there was a risk of finding ourselves at the edge of some chasm, down
which we might fall. The distance seemed very long, and I thought we
must have missed the Coastguard station, which was situated at the edge
of the cliffs. At length, however, we saw a light gleaming from a
window, and arrived at the wall which enclosed the house where the
lieutenant and his men lived. We found them on the alert. Two had just
gone off for some horses to drag the waggon in which the rocket
apparatus was to be carried, as one of the men stationed to the
southward had seen the brig and reported her danger.
In the waggon were already placed the rocket tube, with three rocket
lines, several rockets, three spars to form a triangle, an anchor,
lantern, spades, and pickaxes, some signal rockets, a rope ladder, and a
sling life-buoy, with what are called "petticoat breeches" fastened to
it, in which a person can be placed.
There were also a strong hawser and a whip or fine rope, by which the
sling life-buoy was to be drawn backwards and forwards from the wreck to
the shore. By the time these were got into the waggon a couple of
horses had arrived, and a party of men immediately set off with the
waggon.
The lieutenant conducted us back by the way we had come; as he knew
every inch of the ground, we had no fear now of falling over the cliff.
We had not gone far before we saw a rocket thrown up about a mile to the
southward.
"It is as I feared," said the lieutenant; "the brig has gone ashore, and
that rocket, fired by one of my men, shows the spot where she has
struck. There is no time to lose, for in all probability she will not
hold together long."
The signal made us hasten on even faster than before.
"There she is! there she is!" cried the lieutenant, just as we reached
the summit of a cliff.
We could see the brig about a hundred fathoms off on the rocks, the sea
making a fearful breach over her. There was light sufficient to enable
us to see that the foremast was still standing.
We found that papa and the rest of our party had arrived at the spot,
and were watching her, but of course utterly unable to afford any
assistance. It would have been a sad thing to watch her, had we not
known that we should soon have the means of saving the poor people.
Scarcely a minute had passed when a shout gave us notice that the waggon
had arrived. We all instantly hurried to her to assist. While the men
handled the heavier articles, we carried the lighter ones. Each man
knew exactly what he was to do. The lines, I should have said, were in
boxes, two of which were carried to the cliff; the tube was then fixed,
and the line fastened to it. It was an anxious moment. Would the line
pass over the vessel? would the crew be able to secure it? I could not
help fearing that the rocket might strike the vessel, and perhaps kill
some one on board; but the lieutenant took very good care to avoid that,
by giving the tube sufficient elevation.
"Now, lads, stand by!" he sang out.
The men tilted the box in which the line was secured, so that it might
run out freely. The officer now fired; and the rocket, rising in the
air, made a grand curve of light, which we watched with intense interest
until we saw it fall completely over the vessel. We had now to
ascertain whether the men on board had secured it. No signal came, and
of course we could not venture to haul in on the line, lest we might
draw it back.
"They probably have no blue light or gun on board, or any other means of
making a signal," observed the lieutenant.
Scarcely, however, had he spoken, before a faint light from a lantern
was shown in the rigging.
"All right," he exclaimed: "they have secured the line; make it fast to
the warp."
Upon this, one of the Coastguards, going a short distance from the rest
of us, exhibited a lantern with a red light, and presently we found that
the whip--or double line--with a tailed block was being hauled off by
the men on the wreck.
We had now to wait again until once more the lantern was shown on board.
This was a signal to the Coastguard to secure the end of the hawser to
one part of the double line or whip, when all hands taking hold of the
latter, we hauled off the hawser to the wreck. The tailed block had
probably been secured to the mast; and as long as that held we had every
hope of establishing a communication.
If we felt anxious, how much more so must the poor fellows on the brig,
which might at any moment be knocked to pieces, and they be sent
struggling hopelessly in the foaming seas! We knew from the length of
the whip that we must haul out the hawser almost to its end. Soon after
we had done so another signal was made, which implied that the men had
secured it round the mast. We then immediately hauled away on the
hawser until we had got it stretched and secured to the anchor, which
had been imbedded in the earth some way back from the cliff. It was
necessary, however, not to get it too taut, as the vessel was moved by
the seas, and might either break it, or tear the anchor out of the
ground. This done, the "buoy with the breeches" was secured to a block,
adjusted to the hawser, and was immediately hauled off.
I should have said that a triangle, formed of three small spars, over
which the hawser passed, was fixed in the ground nearest to the edge of
the cliff; and now, to our infinite satisfaction, we had a perfect
communication with the wreck. Still we had to watch for another signal,
to give us notice that a person had been placed in it. Again the light
appeared. We hauled away on the warp.
"Handsomely, handsomely!" sung out the lieutenant, as the men were
hauling in rather fast on the line.
We eagerly watched; when at last through the gloom we saw the life-buoy
appear, and discovered that a person was in it. With anxious haste the
lieutenant and two of his men stepped forward, and grasping the buoy and
its burden, gently lifted out the occupant.
"My arm is broken, sir; take care, please."
We found that it was the mate of the vessel who spoke; he was the first
sent on shore. We carried him up to the waggon, where he could be
sheltered from the wind by the awning which covered it. While Uncle Tom
remained with him, we hastened back to the cliff.
By this time another person had arrived--a young boy--who was also
somewhat hurt. He was almost fainting from pain and terror; his state
was such that he could only utter the words, "Make haste! make haste!"
There was good reason for this, for we could judge by the way the hawser
was moved that the vessel was rolling more and more; and the men were
compelled to slacken it out every now and then. It may be supposed no
time was lost. Three men were now successfully brought on shore.
We were going to carry the boy to the waggon, but he intreated to
remain. The first of the men who arrived told us the reason. He was
the captain's son. The captain himself would not leave the vessel until
the last. Two of their number had been washed overboard, the captain
alone now remained. We could hear the boy crying out every now and
then, "Make haste! make haste!"
Once more the life-buoy was hauled off; every possible speed was made.
I don't think I ever before felt so intensely anxious; for I could
sympathise with the poor boy whose father was still in fearful danger.
Each moment it seemed as if the hawser would be carried away. Again the
light was shown, and seemed to be advancing towards us. The Coastguard
hauled away with all their might, helped by two of the rescued crew,
while the lieutenant and the rest stood by ready to take hold of the
captain. The light drew nearer and nearer. "Make haste! make haste!"
again cried the boy. When at length he saw his father safe, in spite of
his hurts, rising up from the ground, he rushed forward and threw his
arms round his neck.
Scarcely had the captain's feet touched the ground than the hawser
slackened, a loud rending sound was borne to our ears by the wind, and
we knew that some huge billow had dashed the brig to pieces. Indeed, I
fancied I saw fragments tossing about in the seething waves which dashed
up against the cliffs.
All felt that they had done their duty, and that the lives of their
fellow-creatures had been saved by their promptitude, and the skill with
which the operations had been carried out. The Coastguard men, having
hauled in the hawser until the mast was brought close under the cliff,
the rocket apparatus was returned to the waggon, in which also the mate
and the captain's son were placed, and we then all set off to the
Coastguard station.
The lieutenant invited us to remain at his cottage until the morning.
We gladly accepted his offer; and his wife, who was a very nice person,
treated us in the kindest manner, and produced a variety of garments,
which we put on while our wet clothes were drying. Uncle Tom had a
lady's cloak over his shoulders. Dick was dressed in an old uniform
coat, and papa got into a pea-jacket.
The shipwrecked crew were looked after by the Coastguard men, and the
lieutenant and his wife attended to the mate and the boy; while the
master of the vessel had a room to himself, being completely knocked up,
and as soon as he had had some supper went to bed, and happily was soon
fast asleep.
Papa and the lieutenant found that they had many mutual acquaintances,
and they sat spinning yarns before the fire--for, although summer, a
fire was very pleasant--until late in the night. The lieutenant
described to us the gallant way in which the lifeboats of two
neighbouring stations had gone out on several occasions to rescue the
crews of vessels either on the rocks or sandbanks at the mouth of the
Moray Firth.
One hears but little of the wreck of coasters; but were it not for the
assistance of lifeboats, in most instances the crews, consisting of
three to six men, would be lost; as the vessels, being often old and
rotten, quickly break up, and being low, the seas wash completely over
them. Not long ago a boat was discovered by one of the Coastguard men
on the beach; and on hurrying towards her, he found a poor fellow lying
on the sand almost exhausted. On carrying him to a neighbouring
fisherman's cottage, he recovered; and he then stated that he belonged
to a large barque which had gone on the sands; that he and twelve other
men had taken to their boat, but that she had capsized, and that all
hands, with the exception of himself, had been drowned; that he had swum
on shore, though he could scarcely tell how he had managed to reach it.
He said that there were four men still on board. On this the Coastguard
men hastened to the nearest lifeboat station, when the boat was
immediately manned and pushed off for the wreck, the position of which
the seaman had described, though as it was night she could not be seen.
Away the gallant crew pulled through tremendous seas, which were rolling
in on the coast. Having gained an offing, they made sail, and steered
for the wreck, which at length was discovered with two of her masts
gone, while the crew were clinging to the rigging of the remaining mast,
which threatened every instant to follow the others. The lifeboat,
showing a light, indicated to the poor fellows on the wreck that help
was near. After considerable difficulty they got up under her lee, and
were able to heave a rope on board. Getting a stronger warp, they
hauled up near enough to enable two of the men to jump on board. The
third slipped, and fell into the water, running a fearful risk of being
crushed; but, happily, he also was got into the boat. As is often the
case, the cabin-boy was the last left. It was a trying thing to see the
poor little fellow clinging to the rigging, but unable to help himself.
"We can't let him perish!" cried one of the lifeboat men; and at the
risk of his own life, the boat being hauled up to the wreck, he sprang
into the rigging, and with his knife cut the lashings by which the poor
boy was held. A crashing sound was heard, the weather shrouds and stays
were giving way. In another instant the mast would fall, and not only
the gallant fellow and his charge, but all in the lifeboat, would
perish.
"Leap, man! leap!" shouted the crew, ready to shove off, and watching
the tottering mast with anxious gaze; but even though they all knew the
fearful risk they incurred by remaining, they would not desert their
companion or the lad he had gone to save. The gallant boatman, seizing
the boy in his arms, slid down the rigging and sprang from the chains
into the boat, where he was caught by the outstretched arms of his
companions. The next moment the boat was many fathoms from the wreck,
when down came the mast on the very spot where she had been floating,
the cap of her topmast almost striking her bow. Still the crew had a
heavy struggle to reach the shore, for the gale came down with greater
force than ever, and the hungry seas seemed ready to engulf her; but the
shipwrecked men were landed in safety. Not until they met their
companion did they learn that he and they were the sole survivors of the
crew.
The lieutenant told the tale so graphically that I have tried to put it
down in his own words. He related many other similar anecdotes; and it
was not until the night was far spent that we dropped off to sleep in
our chairs.
At daybreak, as the rain had ceased, and the wind had somewhat gone
down, we started for Peterhead, papa promising to send a conveyance for
the mate and the boy, that they might be carried to the hospital.
Peterhead is a substantial-looking seaport town, the houses being mostly
built of granite from quarries near. It stands on the south side of the
mouth of the river Ugie, and has two harbours, one on the north and the
other on the south side of the peninsula. The latter, which is the
oldest, was formed in the year 1773, from plans by Mr Smeaton, the
great engineer of those days; and the north harbour in 1818, from those
by Mr Telford. Piers run out from the shore, which is lined by fine
quays.
We had to wait the whole day before proceeding on our voyage, so we had
time to see a great deal of the town, and something of the
neighbourhood. We paid a visit to the hospital, and were glad to find
that the poor mate and the captain's son were going on very well.
Next morning broke bright and beautiful, with a fine northerly breeze,
which raised our spirits; and sailing out of the harbour, we stood
towards Buchan Ness, on the summit of which stands a stone tower, with a
light flashing from it at night, to show the approach to Peterhead. We
sighted Slaines Castle, from which we steered a direct course for
Aberdeen. About ten o'clock, the distance run being about thirty miles,
we sighted the Girdlestone Lighthouse, on the southern side of the river
Don, on which Aberdeen stands. Crossing the bar, we found ourselves in
a wide bay. Several vessels and a number of boats were standing towards
the spacious quays, backed by the fine granite-built houses of New
Aberdeen.
On landing, we noticed the massive appearance imparted to the houses by
the granite of which they are composed.
Our first visit was to Marischal College, the great seat of learning in
the north, where Captain Dalgetty, that redoubted soldier of fortune,
according to Scott, obtained his education. We went through the museum,
library, and observatory, saw a good collection of paintings, and were
especially struck by the handsome way in which the whole building is
furnished.
Hurrying on, however, to the old town, on the south bank of the Don, we
visited the parish church of Old Machar, a grand and venerable building.
The pillars in the transept have their capitals beautifully carved in
oak. We then went to King's College, a large quadrangular edifice,
including the chapel, built of granite. The examination hall contains a
collection of the portraits of the old Scottish kings and the early
principals of the college,--a Bishop Elphinstone, the founder, being
among them. We were amused by seeing the students, of whom there were
between two and three hundred, walking about dressed in red gowns. They
belong to all ranks of society, many labouring during the summer to
obtain the means of educating themselves in the winter. We heard a
pleasant anecdote of the late Duke of Gordon, who used to send out a
carriage when he knew that the young men were on their way to college,
in order to give them a lift for a stage or two. Many, we were told,
had worked at the Caledonian Canal before thus arriving in the ducal
carriage.
We saw many evidences of the prosperity of Aberdeen; and while we lay in
the harbour two or three steamers came in and out; one on its way to the
islands of Orkney and Shetland, and others to Leith and the Thames. Our
few hours at Aberdeen were among the most interesting we spent on shore
during our voyage.
Sailing again in the afternoon, with a fine northerly breeze, we passed
the neat town of Stonehaven, about fifteen miles to the south, and soon
afterwards the grand ruins of Dunnottar Castle, a large square tower
rising from amid the ruins of other buildings on the very edge of the
cliff. We could judge of its size by the extent of the remaining walls.
It was here that the crown and sceptre of King Charles were kept during
the Civil Wars. The castle was besieged, and the garrison was about to
capitulate, when Mrs Ogilvie, the governor's wife, put them in charge
of Mrs Grainger, the wife of the minister of Kinneff, who had paid her
a visit by permission of the Republican General Lambert. Mrs Ogilvie
managed, with wonderful boldness, to smuggle out the crown, fastened
under her cloak, while her servant hid the sceptre and sword in a bag of
flax which she carried on her back. It was here, also, that many of the
Covenanters were imprisoned, and, according to an ancient chronicler,
Wallace put to death four thousand Englishmen, who had fled for safety
into the church. The approaching night hid the gloomy walls from our
view.
As we passed the towns of Montrose and Arbroath during the night, we saw
nothing of them. The wind fell light when off the latter place, and
then blew from the south-west, bringing up a thick fog, which shrouded
the whole surface of the water. Papa being told of it, he went on deck,
and Dick and I followed him; when he at once hauled the yacht on the
wind, and stood off the coast. After running on for about an hour, the
peculiar mournful sound of a bell reached us. As we stood on, it
sounded every half-minute, louder and louder.
"Where does that come from?" inquired Dick.
"From the Bell Rock," answered Truck. "If it wasn't for the fog we
should see a light from the tall tower which now stands on the rock,
bright and red alternately. Once upon a time there was no tower there;
but there was a bell fixed on a buoy, and as the waves beat against it,
it tolled without ceasing; but I have heard say that there was a pirate,
who used to cruise in those seas, who cut the bell off; but not long
after, when making for Dundee, during a dark night and a heavy gale, he
ran his ship on it, and was lost with all his men--a judgment on him for
his evil deeds."
The wind dropping altogether, we lay becalmed, within the sound of the
bell, until morning broke and the fog lifted, when we saw the tower just
ahead of us. The centre part of the building was coloured white, and
could scarcely be seen against the sky; but the lower part, which was
dark, and the lantern, which was in shadow, were perfectly visible. We
pulled towards it; and as we approached we saw the rocks on which the
lighthouse stands rising ten feet or more above the water. Iron ladders
were fixed for landing, and by a gun-metal ladder we were able to reach
the entrance port. The head keeper came down and received us cordially.
As in other lighthouses, the first story is used for storing coal; the
second for water; the next for oil; and the next for bedrooms, with
berths for six persons. Above it is the kitchen, and above that the
sitting-room, in which we saw a bust of Stevenson, the engineer. The
light is revolving, and has five reflectors, on each of which are two
faces, one red and one white. The red colour is produced by chimneys of
red glass. The keeper told us that four men belonged to the lighthouse,
that they are all married, but that three only were on duty. As at the
other lighthouses, birds are occasionally killed by flying against the
glasses.
Soon after we left the Bell Rock, the wind freshening from the
southward, we stood on for Dundee, from which it is about five and
twenty miles distant. We passed through the narrow entrance of the
Firth of Tay, with Broughty Castle on our right, beyond which we came
off Dundee, standing on the northern shore, and rising on a gentle
declivity from the water's edge, towards a high hill called the Law.
The estuary here is nearly two miles wide. A number of vessels were at
anchor, while the docks seen beyond the quays were full of shipping.
Dundee has a handsome appearance, with its broad streets and fine stone
houses. About the centre of the town, we passed what looked like one
enormous church, with a lofty tower at the western end; but we found
that it consisted of four parish churches, which are built side by side,
so as to form one edifice.
"I wish that all Christian communities could thus live in unity,"
observed papa.
These churches were, as may be supposed, all Presbyterian. There are
several others in the town. We were told that there were nearly ninety
schools in Dundee, at which upwards of four thousand children are
educated. One of the most interesting places which claimed our
attention was the Watt Institution, established in honour of James Watt,
for the instruction of young men in science. There are also nearly
forty mills for spinning flax, weaving linen, sail-cloth, sacking, and
cordage. On the quay stands a handsome arch, built after a Flemish
model. Besides the patent slip and graving dock, there are three wet
docks and two tidal harbours, while other improvements are being carried
on; so that Dundee is a most flourishing place.
Not far off is Camperdown, once the residence of Lord Duncan, who called
it after the famous victory he won over the Dutch; and a little distance
further is Rossie Priory, belonging to the Kinnaird family.
As we were anxious to look into Saint Andrews, we sailed again next
morning, in the hope that the wind would continue in the north, or at
all events that we should be able to beat down thus far. It is situated
on the south shore of Saint Andrew's Bay, some little way outside the
entrance to the Firth of Tay. The wind favoured us more than we
expected; and a pilot-boat showing us the way, we stood into the
harbour, passing close under the peninsula on which the town stands.
Above us were the ruins of the cathedral and the chapel of Saint Rule,
who was supposed to have founded the place, with several other
buildings. Saint Andrews presented a very quiet aspect, forming a great
contrast to the bustling town of Dundee; but I must say it is a far more
picturesque place. Of course we visited the university, the most
ancient in Scotland. It consists of the colleges of Saint Salvator,
Saint Leonard, and Saint Mary. There is also a school called the Madras
College, founded by Dr Bell, the originator of the Madras system of
education. By means of these colleges, at which an almost free
education can be obtained, young Scotchmen without means are able to
enjoy advantages which they could not do in England. The town is
certainly more alive than it was when Dr Johnson visited it in the last
century; he declared that one of the streets was lost, and that in those
that remained there was "the silence and solitude of inactive indigence
and gloomy depopulation." We thought it a very picturesque-looking
place, and should have remained there longer had the wind not changed
and induced us to put to sea.
Having passed round Fifeness, the eastern point of the peninsula, and
opened the Isle of May lights--for there are two on the summit of the
island--we stood across the Firth of Forth, intending to visit
Edinburgh. The wind being light the whole night, we made no way.
When morning broke, we were in sight of Fenton Law, which rose beyond
North Berwick, and the Bass Rock, at no great distance off, standing
high up above the blue sea. We passed close to it, and got a view of
the almost inaccessible castle perched on its cliffs. It is now in
ruins, but at one time was used as a state prison, in which several of
the most distinguished Covenanters were confined. Wild flocks of
sea-fowl rose above our heads from off the rock, and among others were
numbers of gannets or Solan geese.
As we had lost so much time, and had still the whole English coast to
run down, papa and Uncle Tom, after a consultation, agreed to give up
their visit to Edinburgh, and to continue their cruise across to the
southward.