There arc three distinct
ways of entering Glen Tilt; and as each of them presents the valley
under different aspects, they must be described ; a proceeding the more
necessary, as the views are, in all the three cases, exceedingly fine.
From the point where the
spectator is now supposed to be, returning up the hill to the bridge,
the road is continued onwards, along the brow of that long ridge which
bounds Glen Tilt to the southward. Proceeding for about three miles, it
gradually descends into the valley, and unites to the more usual road
which is conducted along the margin of the river. Through-nit this whole
space, the views are grand and ich: but in a character entirely distinct
from ny thing which has previously occurred, and.indeed, presenting
features that could neither have been expected or conjectured, unless by
those who may have ascended Craig Urrard. The landscapes thus obtained
in proceeding along this road, do not differ so materially from each
other as to constitute distinct pictures which an artist might wish to
preserve. But they are sufficiently varied to keep up the attention:
while the grandeur of the style and the perfection of the composition,
will furnish at least one landscape, if not more, which no-one, who has
the power of retaining a memorial of it, will pass without a record.
As the road holds its
course high along the brow of this ridge, through cultivation on open
pastures, and among scattered birch and alder, the lofty skirts of
Ben-y-gloe rise above it, .-weeping upwards to the hoary and stony
summit of Cairn Li*. Beneath, the valley, prolonged in the simplest of
forms, even beyond reach of the eye, displays the rocky and winding
course of the river, accompanied by fields and farms and trees; the
opposite ridge sloping high upwards in one continued mass of neb and
varied wood, till a few scattered groups and single trees straying
beyond its solid boundary , K cause it to blend with the green faces of
the hil! above, which, as it rises yet higher, gradually assumes the
moorland character, terminating on the sky m a finely prolonged
undulating line, A mountain torrent, ploughing its deep way even from
the sky to the depths of the valley beneath, attended by its own lines
of trees and by some picturesque bridges, serves occasionally to ,'ary
the uniform surface of wood; which is still farther diversified by the
undulations that alternately catch Jeep shadows and strong swelling
lights, and by the intrusion of patches of green. pasture, or the casual
appearance of reaches of the various roads which traverse this wild
forest in ail directions. The simple and grand forms of the distant
mountains, rising beyond all, and majesty and diversity to the outline
of a landscape which, to a truly alpine character, adds a splendour of
forest scenery, and an air of fertility rarely seen in the Highlands of
Scotland.
On the opposite ridge,
another road, ton-ducted at a corresponding elevation, commences ,-,ear
the church of Blalr, reaching the bottom of the valley after a course of
two miles or more, so as to cross the Tilt at Gilbert's bridge. Frorm
this road, also, there arc obtained views, equal in interest to the
former, and although differing materially in their display, yet
preserving the general peculiarity of character which distinguishes the
scenery of this place from that of every other glen in Scotland. Equally
commanding the valley, though it is here disposed in a different form,
the stations on this side command also a view of the long, solid, and
lofty-mass of Ben-y-gloe, instead of the detached forms on Ben-y-chat
and Ben-venu, which, from the opposite side, constitute the mountain
outline. Farm houses, trees, and scattered groups of birch and oak,
closing, and condensing into more solid masses as they tend downwards to
the deep, rocky, and closely-woodcd channel of the Tilt, cover the lofty
and continuous face of the opposite ridge, instead of the masses of dark
forest formerly seen, which, now rising from the spectator's feet as he
skirts the wood" through green fields and open glades, or surrounding
him on all sides as the road winds through the dense thickets, sweeps
down, in a long sheet of rich dark colour, into the valley below.
In all directions, road<-
branch from the main line, all of them various in their characters ant!
in the views which they afford, and all interesting in some way.
Returning al higher elevations, alternately through forest and open
field, they look hack on the rich vale of Blair, or. traversing in an
easy ascent, reach the brown open mountain above, conducting the hunter
to the haunts of the deer. Often, crossing some deep ravine by a bridge
of appropriate character, or following the course of a mountain torrent,
they introduce the traveller to some strangely secluded and wild spot,
where the brawling stream or the cascade, the fern-clad and mossy rock,
and the open grove of odoriferous birch, serve to diversify the closer
and more uniform scenery of the woods; or whence some deep and naked
valley, conducting a rocky stream along its narrow windings, stretches
far away, brown and rude, till it is lost among the intricacies of the
distant mountains.
One scene on this side
especially demands the attention of the artist; and it is well marked by
the bridge which, being the middle one of three that cross the same
steep torrent, forms the foreground to this splendid alpine landscape.
Though the elevation is considerable, the point of sight is not so high
as to prevent the picture from being displayed in a manageable
perspective;
while a regular
succession of objects conducts tile eye uninterruptedly from the
immediate foreground to the extreme distance, without that break of
colouring and juxtaposition of far remote and discordant parts with
nearer ones, which so often produce a bad effect and an unpleasing
appearance of false perspective. From the simple yet picturesque bridge
which, thrown across the deep and rocky ravine, is half shrowded by the
trees which shoot up from beneath and almost conceal the torrent,
forming a solid mass of shade to the foreground, the eye is conducted
over a diminishing succession of forest, and scattered trees, and
undulating ground, intersected by roads and mountain streams, till it
reposes on the noble, broad, swelling forms of Ben-y-chat, rich in deep
brown and purple mountain hues, and diversified with spots and irregular
lines of grey birch, which, uniting into woods at its foot, blend with
the patches of forest and the variegated display of the vale below. The
Tilt, wandering along its mazy and wooded channel, now plunging into the
forest, and now emerging among fields and farm houses, adds richness to
this part of the picture; conducting the view to the fainter, but still
wooded mountain declivities which enclose it as far as the eye can
reach, and which, gradually ascending, tower up to the lofty, blue and
distant summits, far retiring in long succession till they vanish in the
horizon.
The spectator who has
entered Glen Tilt by either of the upper roads now described, may return
by the lower one; but as it is more usual to visit it by this route, I
shall follow the remainder of the description in the same manner.
The porters lodge at Biar,
whence this road proceeds, is scarcely left behind, when an arch,
marking the exit from an open grove, introduces the visitor to the
valley, and, with it, to a view, of great beauty, and well adapted tor a
picture The elegant and extensive white mass of the farm square on the
left hand, high pitched on a green hill above the woods, similar in
design to that at Dunkeld. here forms a beautiful as well as an useful
object in the landscape. The whole i3 of a close character, although
extensive; the wooded sides of the valley meeting below, surmounted by
the lofty and distant mountains, and closing over the deep-cut ravine
that conveys the river. A single turn of the stream, approaching the
foreground, display a glimpse of the water struggling in darkness
through its deep channel* the rocky and vertical sides of which, rising
for an hundred feet or more, are variegated with scattered shrubs and
drooping birches, that unite at length with those of fuller growth which
crown and overhang the margin; throwing a profound shadow over the
chasm, that produces a splendid effect, from its contiast tc ♦lie full,
broad, green lights and demi-tints of the woods above. A rocky
precipice, rising here and there high above the rest, whence a birch of
ancient. growth flings its silvery branches abroad, drooping don n in
long festoons of airy foliage, or an occasional green knoll projecting
above the general surface with its crown of wood, unite, with a'l the
various incidents derived from uneven ground, intersecting roads, broken
banks, wild clumps of natural forest, and single trees dispersed with
all the profusion and carelessness of nature, to ornament and contrast
the breadth and repose of form and colour that characterize the leading
details and main body of the landscape.
The road hence, for some
space, presents perpetual variety and interest: without, however,
discovering any scenes so peculiarly distinguish from those so often
described, as to require or admit of a particular description. Passing
along the edge ot' a wood bordered on one side by ail extensile field,
which emulates an ornamented park, in its boundaries, its loose clumps
of wood, and its noble detached trees, it enters a continuous forest,
sometimes enclosed almost from the sky, then catching a glimpse of the
mountains, and occasionally admitting a momentary view of the river, as
it runs, far beneath and through the closing woods, in its rocky and
turbulent channel. A bridge of elegant and characteristic design, a
praise due to all those which have been constructed by the native masons
of this country, toon leads the road to the opposite bank of the river;
displaying, it the same time, a view ot its picturesque course both
above and below : a sight seldom obtained during this part of its
passage.
This is immediately
succeeded by a cascade, falling from the hill which overhangs the margin
of the road, out of an obscure cavity, and crossing the path to plunge
into the Tilt. Objects so minute as this is, art very apt to elude
notice or to be overlooked, in such a country, and amidst the superior
magnitude and the pro fusion of the surrounding ones. This miniature of
a waterfall must not, however, be thus neglected ; its disposition being
as picturesque and full of effect as it is singular. To those, at least,
who do not require from this species of scenery the extraneous and much
less valuable qualities of magnitude and noise, this nameless and
scarcely noticed object will furnish a scene which, if it be not easily
forced into the service of a picture, will afford much pleasure to the
eye of taste, with some instruction to the artist, in colouring,
composition, and effect of shadow and light.
From the green broad road
which succeeds to this spot, tangled with honeysuckle and wild roses,
and bright with the snowy flowers of the Parnassia, and with the golden
saxifrage that crowds its mass of yellow blossoms beneath every nil that
trickles from the rocks, the spectator will now take a parting view of
the lofty wooded surface on his left, which ascends steep along the face
of the hill, appearing, from this low station, to lose itself on the
sky. Here he will also recognize the bridge whence the elevated view
over the upper part of the valley was formerly obtained, and will be
struck, at the same time, by the singular effect of this mountain
torrent; which, deep and dark, appears to descend from the summit in one
vertical line, crossed at wide intervals by three bridges, which,
elevated high above him, seem as if built in succeeding stages directly
above each other. Gilbert's bridge, where the road will again conduct
him across the Tilt to the hill formerly described, is here the limit of
the denser forests which line the .alley; though, for a long spare
further, it displays woods of birch, of smaller extent, with a profusion
of scattered clumps and single trees.
Hence the general
character of the scenery changes: the valley becoming wider and more
open, and the river, which had formerly beet, concealed, displaying
itself throughout the remainder of its course, in an endless variety of
rocky channel, cascade, on continuous rapids; now skirted by trees, then
bare, sometimes meandering through green meadows under low banks, and.
at others, forcing its deep way through a narrow and wooded pass, or
beneath unending cliffs, where the deep dark pool succeeds to the
turbulent torrent or the foaming waterfall.
The farm of Auchgowal
affords one picture, which must be taken as an example of what it would
be impossible to describe in every remarkable detail that occurs. It is
in every sense a picture; forming an example of landscape composition
which, while it is a perfect specimen of ornamented alpine scenery, is
unexceptionable in the minutest of its details. The spectator can
scarcely miss the true point of view, which is well marked by an ash
tree of elegant form, and by the fine brown mass of Ben-y-chat, rising
above a green holm where the river makes a turn under the shadow of the
rich trees that skirt its banks.
Those who arc unused to
the torrents of a mountainous country, will here be surprised by Khe
extensive devastation that attends the course of those which descend
from the mountains opposite. The geologist will find in them, matter for
somewhat more than mere wonder; as be will, in all those marks of the
power of water, which are here displayed in the profound ravines that
intersect all these hills, and even in the very shape of the valley
itself. If also he finds matter of peculiar interest to himself in the
long tract of limestone which forms the southern side of this valley,
and in the singular appearances which are produced at the junction of
this and the other stratified reeks with the granite, the ordinary
spectator will be interested in the quarries of beautiful marble which
the place affords, and in the various and splendid minerals which it
produces.
A rock of yellow marble,
not yet wrought, projects above the read, close to the very small
cascade just described: but the quarries that have been opened, are
situated further up the valley than the point just mentioned. at Gow's
Bridge, which is partly constructed from this beautiful material. It
appears on both sides of the water, hut abounds most on the south bank,
where the largest quarry lies: presenting different varieties, of which
the chief are of white, variously mixed and mottled with pale yellow,
grass green, darker tints of the same colour, and grey. This marble
excels in beauty all the analogous substances of British origin, and is,
indeed, rivalled by very few of foreign growth, while it may be procured
of any dimensions The white is less abundant; while it is also of too
large a grain for sculpture, and subject to be stained with light grey.
Collectors of specimens may here load themselves with the endless
variety found among the workings of the quarry. The same spot has
produced, and still produces, a greater variety of Tremolite, and of
larger dimensions and more splendid appearance, than had ever before
been know n. The mineralogist, who only knows minerals in the shop of
the dealer or the cabinet of the collector, will also have the
satisfaction of seeing Sahlite in large beds; and, to pass over the
other more obvious productions of this valley, which is among the most
interesting to a geologist throughout Scotland, an industrious and acute
observer will, in different places, discover Steatite, Asbestos, Talc.
Cyanite, crystallized Chlorite, Titanite, Sphene, and Actinolite,
together with many interesting varieties of nearly all the primary
reeks.
The landscape about Gow's
Bridge is not less interesting than many ethers which this valley
produces; whether viewed from above, so as to include 'he steep hilly
boundary and the prolonged vista of wood and field, or examined in the
deep recesses where the river foams along the rocky chasm, amidst the
shade and ornament of woods. It is unnecessary to dwell on scenes, the
enumeration of which would;, at the 'tame time, be interminable ' but
the artist, or the spectator, who must now have learnt to discover the
concealed beauties of an alpine country of this character, tan scarcely
be at a loss. If he causes to wander down the right bank of the stream
for half a mile, he will find his labour repaid, not only by his
intricate ride through open and green groves of birch, but by the
cascades, or rather rapids, of the Merk. and by the wild valley which
leads from this spot to the mountains. In the Criny, situated at a 4iort
distance above Cow's Bridge, the geologist will find detached and
perfect junction of the stratified rocks, with the whole mass, as well
as with the veins of granite, highly explanatory of the interesting
straciure of this whole district; and, here also, the mere searcher
after picturesque beauty wilt discover objects for his own peculiar
amusement.
But the visitor ought not
to pass this place without taking advantage of a road which leads from
the bridge up the southern face of the valley ;since, that position he
may see it •n a new and quite different point of view, forming a
spacious and hare green cavity, striking, alike, from the extreme
simplicity of its form, and from the equal simplicity and grandeur of
the mountain boundary.
At the upper end of this
open space, stands Forest Lodge, dedicated to the hunting of the deer
which roam at large over the extensive range of mountains around that
forms the forest of Atholl. That beauty which is properly picturesque,
has now ceased; hut the green meadows which here bound the winding
course of the margin, occasionally bordered by rocks and trees, and the
high impending hills on each hand, varied with bright green pasture and
brown moor, and broken by «cars and precipices, still afford an
interesting and a pleasing ride. A painted cascade, appearing to fall
over a dark grey precipice high on the mountain above, may attract the
notice of those who, with ideas borrowed from Vauxhall, may imagine that
art has been doing what Nature ought not to have forgotten. Hut she has
herself been the artist; the calcareous waters which descend along this
channel when full, leaving their white incrustations when it is dry, and
performing their work so well, that it is, at first sight, not easy to
discover the deception. Those who admire the lapidafications of wigs,
and such like appropriate transmutations as delight the swarms that
crowd Matlock and Buxton, may here, if it so pleases them, sit under
endless waterfalls, with the same happy results to their own caxons.
Glen Tilt, ever grand,
and ever new thus far, once more assumes a new character at Forest
Lodge; but it is renovated for the last time. The lofty and sudden
acelivities of the hills on each side, rise almost like a wall; making
evening at noon day, and meeting below so as scarcely to allow room for
more than the passage of the river. Hence, the valley is continued for
many miles, with the same general character, though with such minute
variations as might be expected. The traveller who has taken this book
as his guide, counsellor, and friend, is not likely to prolong his
excursions further: but if, deeper smitten, or more ambitious, he should
reach the Tarff, he' may ascend the hill, and there see Glen lilt
stretching in a straight line from him, far, far away ; a huge ditch,
since no better comparison will, entreated, come, unfathomably deep,
immeasurably long; rising, like the valley of Mirza, in obscurity, and
lost in equal mist and doubt; a channel fitted to excite the cupidity of
canal mongers, or to watt the Danube and the Rhine and the Nile
together;-a trench which Jupiter might have fortified against the
Titans, if there had ever been Titans, and if Jupiter had studied
Coehoorni.
The hills around, and the
valley itself, afford numerous attractions to the botanist. The feaxi
fraga oppositifolia and the Silene acaulis, rarely descending so low,
grow at the very water's edge near Forest Lodge, where the green hills
bear many of the rarer Orchidea. that affect calcareous soils, together
with the beautiful Dryas octope-tala. Above, and on both sides of the
valley, is found the Azalea procumbens, with Corn as Suecica, Rubus
areticus, Anthericum calvcula-tum, and Betula nana; besides many of tilt
most common alpine plants, which I need not enumerate; to which may be
added, as among the rarer Lichens, the Islandicus and the Nivalis,
The geological details
are far too important and numerous for such a brief enumeration as could
alone be afforded here; but the principal appearances which belong to
the junctions of the granite with the strata, and to the penetration of
veins, will be found at a picturesque bridge just above Forest Lodge.
The calcareous strath are here traversed bv the granite veins, as well
as the associated hornblende schist and other rocks; and somewhat loner
down the strear, there is a mass of white marble similarly intersected,
the whole of them displaying, in consequence, a great variety of
interesting appearance-. In a general sense, these phenomena are rather
too abstruse for those who have only a superficial acquaintance with
this subject; and the more experienced will not consult such a
performance as this for geological information.
But there are readers and
travellers, of ar many pursuits as the world has tastes and
physiognomies; and if I have taught some of these how they may defraud
the powder tax by petrifying their wigs with lime, I may here tell
others where they will find a cauldron of cold boiling water. It is on a
rock in the very middle of the stream at this place. A particular medium
stale of the water is required to produce this appearance , but when it
is present, the resemblance is absolutely perfect. This pool or
cauldron, deep, and, without overflowing, full, emulates most exactly
the boiling of a kettle on the fire, the effect being probably produced
by means of air and water forced up from the fall, through some very
narrow and invisible fissure in the rock.
There are few travellers,
be they geologists, or botanists, or dilettantes in the picturesque, or
nothing at all, either of these or of any thing else, who will not take
some interest in the deer and in what belongs to them, from the rude
mountain forest itself to the well-roasted and smoking haunch. This
enormous tract of wild mountain, which may be seen by those who choose
to ascend the hills, extends over nearly an hundred thousand English
acres, and is estimated to contain about six thousand deer. Here they
range uncontrouled; an example of what Scotland once was, when Ossian is
supposed to have written, and long after. Those who have not read of the
huntings which did once befal in this country, had better read
Pitsiottie, or Taylor, or both. If they have not the originals, they
will find them quoted in every toui book, in such poetry, and in some
novels, until one is absolutely weary of meeting the same, friends at
every turning of a corner. A very-valid reason for not quoting them
again, although to do so. would be an easy way of gaining a few pages.
Good fortune on tile part of the traveller, or good nature on that of
the 1)ake, may often permit, even the accidental passenger to partake of
the spectacle; yet, Lord of the forest as he is, he cannot always make
his wild tenants appear at his bidding. Even those who have eaten of his
haunch and drank of his cup, and they are not few, must submit to the
chances of this war. The stray visitor will have cause to be pleased,
though he should only see the distant herd, and only see that, crowning
with its long line of antlers, the brow of the mountain: projecting
them, like a wintry forest, on the outline of the sky. lie will be more
fortunate should they form their line into a column to descend the hill,
as the alarm of men or dogs drives them to the station of the hunters.
Then perhaps he may track the herd by the undulating stream of mist
which rises from them as they smoke down the steep descent, and,
crossing the ravine, or plunging after their leader into the river,
ascend again. occasionally disappearing, then seen by intervals, as
their prolonged files sink into the gully or rise oil the knoll;
trailing along, like the smoke of a furnace before the breeze, a wreath
of grey vapour, which, ascending, unites with the mists of the hill as
they vanish along its brow or are lost in the clouds which rest upon it.
His fortune may yet be better, if after, separated from the herd, should
be brought near him to bay, While the valley round re-echos to the deep
baying of the deer-hounds which surround him, afraid to advance, the
spectator may perhaps see him high on some broken bank, or beneath the
shelter of a rock; or, if he is yet more fortunate, in the middle of the
stream, proudly looking round from some high and huge stone on the
animals, who, stemming the wave, assail him on all sides. There, if he
please, he may meditate, like Jacques; or, as is more probable, like Sir
William Curtis and the wiser men of the world, who would rather eat
twenty deer than weep with one. Whichever plan he may adopt, he and I
alike must take leave of Glen Tilt. |