Sgi'cran 4 L^Amblcirs

SgI'cran 4 l^amblcirs.

V \

Lz ' 9L i 'sgy Facsimile of Silk Banner presented to the Sylvan Ramblers by Mr Andrew Gardner. g^lftan ^ ^ambleits.

The Oqtings

OF THE

^>^ft>an (Kamfifere.

Minutes of the Rambles,

Pu^lis^ed by Request of tbe lYIeinbe^s.

mmiiiiii

GLASGOW: A. BRYSON & CO., PRINTERS AND LITHOGRAPHERS, CAMPBELL ARCADE, 74 TRONGATE. 1892.

Preface,

,TpHE circumstances which have led to the publi- cation of this volume are briefly these :—

The members having already published the minutes of their first year’s rambles during 1885-86, it was thought desirable to record the four sucoeeding years in a similar way.

As was stated in the first volume, this work makes no pretentions to any literary merit, or to be more than a record of the rambles as they took place, and is intended to recall to the minds of the members, the various scenes and circumstances which have been to them a source of so much pleasure, in wandering amongst the beauties of Nature, when they have been able for the time being to throw off" the cares and pressures of business which oftimes weigh so heavily upon those engaged in the struggle of life.

The object of the Club is the visiting of places within an easy day’s journey of Glasgow, having an historical, memorable, romantic, or instructive interest, also places interesting from beauty of situation, view or walks, and enjoying the social intercourse VI. SYLVAN RAMBLEES. and good fellowship of each others’ company; this the Sylvan Ramblers have endeavoured to accomplish, and found such excursions to be of a healthful, recreative, and instructive character, while the companionships which have been formed have so knitted them together in their joys and in their sorrows, that they will be for ever remembered.

This volume is sent forth into the world in the hope that it will foster the growth of kindred associations, and stimulate a desire for the enjoyment of similar pleasures in the hearts of those whose duties, in the workshop or counting-house, necessitate such outings.

“ Tongues in trees, Books in the running brooks, Sermons in stones, And good in everything.’’ •o^o*——

SECOND SESSION. RAMBLE PACK I. Ayr and Burns’ Monument, _ - - 9 II. Duntoclier, Kilbowie, and Dalmuir, - - 17 HI. Giffnock, 21 IV. Carmyle and Kenmure, - - - - 24 V. Corkindale Law and Peeseweep Inn, - - 28 VI. Busby and Mearns Castle, - - - - 32 VII. Dumbarton Castle. . - - - 35 Vni. The Craig of Carnook and Rouken Glen, - - 39 IX. Castle Campbell and Dollar Glen, - - 43 X. Fairlie Glen and Largs, - - . - 50 XI. Erskine Ferry and Renfrew, - - . 55 XII. Tillietudlem Castle and Stonebyres Falls, - - 58

THIRD SESSION. I. Maybole and Culzean Castle, - - - 63 II. Bishopbriggs and Milngavie, via Cadder Wilderness, 71 III. Pollok and Crookston Castle, - - - 75 IV. Glenkilloch, Gleniffer Braes, and Tannahill’s Well, 80 V. Neilston and the Peeseweep Inn, - - 84 VI. Mearns and Eaglesham, - - - - 88 VIII. Calderwood Glen and Kilbride, - - - 91 IX. Aberfoyle and Loch Ard, • - - - 96 X. Cardross and Kilmahew Glen, - - - 101 XI. Hamilton and Bothwell, - - - - 105 XII. Linlithgow, Queensferry, and the Forth Bridge, 109 Vlll. CONTENTS.

FOURTH SESSION. I. Kilmarnock and Dundonald Castle, - - 118 II. Eagleskam, - - - - - 124 III. Springburn and Chryston, - - - - 127 IV. East Kilbride and Torrance Glen, - - 130 V. Bearsden, Tambowie, and Craigallion, - - 132 VI. Carmyle, ------135 VII. Kilwinning and Eglinton Castle, - - - 136 VIII. Joint Ramble of the Water o’ Leven and Glasgow Sylvan Ramblers, ----- 141 IX. Dalmellington, ----- 144 X. Inverkip Glen and Gourock, - - - 145 XI. Helensburgh and Row, - - - - 148 XII. Stirling and Donne Castle, - - - - 151 »»o^o»* FIFTH SESSION. I. Stonebyres and Tillietudlem Castle, - - 160 II. Greenock, Loch Thom, and Inverkip, - - 161 III. Rothesay and Mount Stuart, - - - 166 IV. Paisley and the Peeseweep Inn, - - - 171 V. Ardrossan, Saltcoats, and Stevenston, - - 173 VI. Chryston and Lenzie, _ - - - 179 VII. Blantyre Priory and Bothwell, - - - 186 VIII. Edinburgh and South Queensferry, - - 187 IX. Castlecary and Castle Rankin, - - - 190 X. Mugdock and Craigmaddie Reservoirs, - - 194 XI. Callander, Bracklinn Bridge, and Loch Katrine, 198

An Outing in the Highlands, - - - 210 Obituary Notices, - - - - 218 Membership, ------220 AYR AND BURNS’ MONUMENT. 9

SECOND SESSION

RAMBLES,

Ramble I.—8th April, 1886.

iyr and Burns’ Monument,

Guide, Mu. James Robektson.

HE Second Session of the Sylvan Ramblers was inaugurated by a trip to Ayr and Burns’ Monument. The company numbered twenty, and all got safely away from St. Enoch Station at 9.15. The weather prospects were by no means bright; but, as events showed, the Ramblers were favoured with their usual good luck. The country did not present that joyous appearance which was so specially noticeable in the opening ramble of the previous year, but glad we were for what we had; and that we were, at least, one remove from “gloomy winter.” We travelled over the site of the old Paisley Canal, associated with many interesting walks in bygone B 10 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

days; and we had a view of Crookston Castle, the scene of Queen Mary’s joys in her youthful years. On reaching Ayr at eleven o’clock, we found that the town had a very cheery appearance, and had assumed quite a holiday look with the presence of numerous visitors—it being Glasgow Spring Holiday. The town of Ayr is clean and handsome, and its principal streets are well built. It is situated on the left bank of the river Ayr, about forty miles south-south west of Glasgow. “The Twa Brigs,” which figure so famously in the poems of Burns, connect the suburbs with Ayr. In 1202, William the Lion made it a royal burgh; and it is a market and sea-port town. A beautiful tower, erected in honour of Sir William Wallace, is 113 feet high; and the spire of the Assembly Room is 217 feet. In the wars of Scottish Independence Ayr was a centre of many military exploits; and the poet, Burns, says— “ Auld Ayr, wham ne’er a toun surpasses, For honest men and bonnie lasses.” After a short rest at the Ayr Arms Hotel—and some needed refreshment—the company started in a large brake for the cottage. The road is a delightful one; and, in Summer, when the trees are covered with foliage, must have the appearance of a long avenue with a beautiful canopy of green overhead. On the way we passed many couples AYR AND BURNS MONUMENT. 11 intent on paying respect to the birthplace of Scotland’s famous bard; and apparently all were ardent devotees of that passion which inspired Burns in some of his sweetest melodies. Speedily we were set down at the Auld Clay Biggin where he was born, “ at whose name every Scottish heart beats high.” “All ask the cottage of his birth, Gaze on the scenes he loved and sung, And gather feelings not of earth, His words and streams among.”

BURNS' COTTAGE. The humble cottage where Burns was born is a low-roofed, one-storey house, and consists of a “but- and-a-ben”—two rooms on the same floor—with an additional apartment which has been added at one end, neatly white washed and thatched. In the “but” there is the recessed bed in which the poet first saw the light of day. The plain deal dresser, with dish-rack above, still remains the same, and®

t 12 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

the “wee window” still looks out behind over the fields. The open fire-place, with roomy, projecting chimney, is a place of interest, and the apartment towards the back is little changed since the eventful night when “Janwar’ winds blew hansel in on Robin.” We stayed a considerable time looking over the many interesting relics _ open for the inspection of visitors; and, after enjoying a cup of tea in the

AULD ALLOWAY KIRK. hall, behind the cottage, we proceeded to visit Alloway kirk. The size of this old and well-known building is very disappointing — as from Burns’ account of what Tam o’Shanter saw on the eventful evening, one would fancy that it was of considerable dimensions. How “ They reel’d they set, they crossed, they cleekit,”

« AYR AND BURNS’ MONUMENT. 13 in a place of such limited capacity, is very hard to understand. But, of course, the ladies on that occasion were not unduly impeded with long trains ! Be that as it may, the place—from being a quiet resting spot for unknown country people — ere Burns wrote Tam o’Shanter, has now a world-wide fame, visitors coming from all parts to see Alloway Kirk. We took special notice of the tomb of Burns’ father, which bears tbe well-known lines :— “ 0 ye whose cheek the tear of pity stains, Draw near with pious reverence and attend! Here lie the loving husband’s dear remains— The tender father and the generous friend: The pitying heart that felt for human woe— The dauntless heart that feared no human pride; The friend of man, to vice alone a foe— ‘For even his failings leaned to virtue’s side.’”

Leaving this interesting spot we then wended our way to Burns’ Monument, and enjoyed a stroll in the grounds adjoining. The monument occupies a prominent position, and from its roof a fine view of the surrounding country is obtained. It was erected in 1820-23, is a handsome Grecian edifice about sixty feet high, and on a triangular pedestal are placed nine Corinthian columns, a cupola, and a gilt tripod, supported by dolphins. The columns and architectural decorations of fruit, flowers, and foliage are beautifully executed, and the effect of the whole design is very artistic. The enclosed 14 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

ground near the monument is laid out with walks, evergreens, and flowers^—a graceful offering at the shrine of genius, contributed by the willing hands of the gardeners and florists of Ayrshire, and the spot in the Summer months looks very beautiful. There are many interesting relics preserved in the monument, such as the Bible presented by Burns to Highland Mary; Jean Armour’s wedding ring; two rings containing a lock of the hair of the poet and his wife; two drinking glasses presented by Burns to Clarinda; a snuff-box made from the rafters of Alloway Kirk ; a drinking cup from Poosie Haney’s in Mauchline; a copy of the Kil- marnock edition of the Poet’s poems, and one of the Edinburgh edition. We visited the Grotto, where are placed statues of Tam o’ Shanter and Souter Johnnie, whose efforts to please the onlookers by maintaining a constant smile seem to be greatly relished. After a little refreshment at the hotel, we paid a visit to the Shellhouse on the Banks of the Boon. On our way down the slope we encountered Nanny Tannock, an old lady whose sole occupation seems to consist in sitting there to smile at all the visitors as they pass and repass. A place suitable for photographic purposes was sought for in the hotel grounds; but we had to cross the Hew Bridge, and recross the Boon by the AYE AND BURNS’ MONUMENT. 15 famous Auld Brig, ere our photographer, Mr. Brown, was satisfied. At last the company having got into position, and faces made to assume as nice an appearance as it was possible for the owners to put them into, Mr. Brown proceeded with his work. On returning to the Auld Brig over the Doon—a lofty structure of one arch, and of great antiquity— the company joined in singing :— “Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Doon.” We returned to Ayr by the Longmill Avenue, and on the way had a view of Greenan Castle, which stands on the coast of Ayr, and presents a most weird appearance. As our programme said :— “Lonely mansion of the dead, Who can tell thy varied story ? All thine ancient race hath fled, Leaving thee in ruin hoary.” Here the scenery is charming and the view extensive. Across the silvery expanse of the Frith of Clyde are the peaks of Arran, Ailsa Craig, and— visible on clear days—the coast of Ireland. Land- wards are the hills of Garrick, forming a bold background to the richly varied country intervening, through which lies our course. On our way into Ayr our Jehu pulled up in front of the house of Miss Begg, niece of Robert Burns —a fresh dainty-looking old lady, since dead—who rose from her seat at the window and very kindly 16 SYLVAN RAMBLERS. acknowledged our cheers. After a smart run, the Ayr Arms Hotel was reached, where we found a sumptuous dinner awaiting us. At the close of our repast, the president, Mr. Thomas Napier, congratulated the members on the success of the opening ramble, and trusted that the new session, which had been so auspiciously inaugurated, would prove as fertile, in sweet intercourse with Nature, as the previous one had done. The new programme was well chosen, and it lay with the members to make the rambles as successful as possible. Song and sentiment followed; and, thereafter, the company had a delightful walk through the town, and crossed “The Twa Brigs.” Ayr Station was left at 6.30 p.m., and we reached Glasgow at 8.20 p.m. The arrangements made by our guide, Mr. James Robertson, were of the very best nature, and reflected the utmost credit on him; while Mr. Bryson, with his characteristic generosity, supplied us with a very neat programme of the day’s events. DUNTOCHER, KILBOW1E, AND DALMUXR. 17

Ramble II.—2Jfth April, 1886.

Duntocter, Kilbowie, and Dalmuir.

Guide, - Mr. David Martin.

^'HE second Ramble was to Duntocher and Singers’ Works at Kilbowie, the party numbering twenty-one. Leaving Queen Street Station at 2.30 p.m., we travelled first to Bearsden, where we had a little time to admire the beautiful villas that adorn this rising suburb, and then got on the road to Duntocher. The country around is of a pastoral character, and with the Kilpatrick Hills in the distance, presents a picture of the most pleasing description. “ The hills away far undulating rise, And melt and mingle with the distant skies; Far off the flocks are wandering wild and free, Like little stars on Heaven’s broad canopy.” We soon reached Garscadden village, which is only a collection of miners’ houses, with a small school; and after a smart and bracing walk, we came to 18 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

Hardgate, where we partook of some needed refreshment. We then continued our course to Duntocher, our presence, as we passed along, creating no little stir. Duntocher occupies a somewhat romantic position in an opening of the Lower Kilpatrick Hills, and has charming surroundings and walks of a delightful character. The inhabitants seem to be chiefly engaged in the cotton mills, which appear to be the main support of the town. The population has greatly fluctuated with the prosperity and adversity of trade, and appears at present to be suffering from the general depression. A bridge in the town is said to have been built by the Romans. A Latin inscription to that effect was placed upon it in 1772 by Lord Blantyre, but many antiquarians declare that it has no claim to that honour. The walk from Duntocher to Kilbowie was soon gone over, impelled as we were by a crowd of young Duntocherites whose language, by no means of the clerical description, gave evidence of a little party excitement. They seemed to consider that we were making for Clydebank to engage in a party riot, and the young vagabonds wanted to see the fun ! Singers’ Works at Kilbowie are of immense extent, and employ upwards of five thousand men and women. We were taken through many of the workshops, whose great length was very striking. We ascended the great tower, the height of which is two hundred DUNTOCHER, KILBOWIE, AND DALMUIR. 19 and eighty-five feet, and two members of a calculat- ing turn of mind counted three hundred steps to the summit. The dial of the clock which it is the intention of the company to put up will have a diameter of twenty-five feet, so that the circle itself is of immense size. The very topmost of the tower gave ample accommodation to the whole party, and indeed could have held as many again. The view from the top is very extensive. The mouth of the Cart is seen almost at our feet, and can be traced up its course towards Paisley. Here and there on the bosom of the Clyde can be seen craft of all kinds, while, westward, Dumbuck and Dumbarton tower proudly up, and Dunglass, with the Bell monument, comes into prominence. A long line of steam marks the progress of the iron horse, as it dashes swiftly along on its way to the great city. Altogether, we were well repaid for the difficulties we encountered in climbing the great tower. The bottom was reached in safety, and our steps then directed to the moulding shop, whose large size was most impressive. From the office a short conversation was held through the telephone with the Exchange, Glasgow, after which we repaired to Dalmuir—nearly an hour behind time. At Stark’s an excellent tea was waiting, and it is needless to say that, after such a long outing, the company were quite ready for the refreshment it 20 SYLVAN RAMBLERS. afforded. The quietness that reigned during the repast removed any uncertainty on that point. The Secretary then read the Minutes of the opening ramble, and these being approved of, Mr. Fred. Connor moved a vote of thanks to the two gentlemen who had so kindly conducted us through the works. This was most cordially responded to, and the gentlemen acknowledged the compliment. The remainder of the time was very enjoyably spent, and then we set out for home, walking through Clydebank and Whiteinch to Partick. The car came into use at the latter place, and Glasgow was reached shortly after ten o’clock. The arrangements made by the guide, Mr. David Martin, gave the fullest satisfaction. GIFFNOCK. 21

Ramble III.—8th May, 1886.

Siffijock.

Guide, Mh. James White.

wg VISIT to Giffnock Quarries formed our third ^ Ramble of the present session. Taking the car at St. Vincent Street terminus at 3 p.m., we reached Shawlands at 3.30, where we were joined by some of our members and three friends—making our number eighteen. A delightful walk was taken on the banks of the Cart, and we were much pleased to note the presence of numerous swallows, the first that many of us had seen for the season. Leaving the Cart, Mr. White now conducted us in a southerly direction towards Giffnock. The road is one of considerable beauty, and must be doubly so when the foliage has attained its fullest development; but the country, near Giffnock, presents, on its northern side, a somewhat barren and black appearance. On reaching our destination, we were met by one of the workmen, who, lamp in hand, led us into the 22 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

huge quarry. By dint of constant working for many years, an enormous cavern has been formed in the earth, whose walls are of great height We penetrated into this; the walk reminding us very much of the ramble we had through the Under- ground Railway in Glasgow last winter. After walking through the huge tunnel for some hundreds of yards, we reached daylight at the other end, and were shown the quarries in process of excavation. Considerable time was spent in this inspection, and then we returned to the darkness once more. We were now led to a deep part of the workings, and we could not but feel truly sorry for the unfortunate workmen, who are obliged to toil in such a dreary, dangerous, and injurious occupation. Retracing our steps we once more reached the caller air in safety. Here our worthy guide, Mr. White, read a short description of the Sandstone Rock, “ embracing the method of its accumulation and formation, and geological horizon and characteristic fossils.” Accord- ing to our programme, our guide was characterized as : — “He who, wTith pocket hammer, smites the edge Of luckless rock or prominent stone, disguised In weather stains, or crusted o’er by Nature With her first growth,—detaching by the stroke, A chip or splinter, to resolve his doubts; And, with that ready answer satisfied, The substance classes by some barbarous name, And hurries on.” GIFFNOCK. 23

But, despite this description, we can most assuredly say that Mr. White gave us a most delightful paper, quite free from those barbaric terms with which the sciences so plentifully abound. We now proceeded to the Flagstone Quarry to see annilid burrows, an old river course, and other interesting testimonies of the rocks. In the course of a few remarks made in this quarry, Mr. White spoke of the time “when nothing but insects peopled the air;—no flowers in the woods; no song birds • no animals anywhere, but sluggish crawling creatures in the immediate neighbourhood of the sea. In these circumstances rambling would have been shorn of much of its charm ; but, most appalling of all, nothing grew for the ramblers to eat! We could have had neither biscuits, nor cheese, nor beer;—no grain grew for the miller; no hops for the brewer; no grass for the oxen. The highest dainty which the fields afforded was a paddock stool; so that the good old times were not so good after all, and we may be thankful our lines have fallen in more pleasant places.” We now had a charming walk to Pollokshaws, and at the Maxwell Arms made the most of the scanty biscuits and cheese that the “swate darlint” in that hostelry provided us with. Many of us thought that the sad prehistoric times that Mr. White had been speaking about, had suddenly come back again ! 24 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

Ramble IV.—22nd May, 1886.

Sarmyle and Kenmure,

Guide, - Mr. William Cullen.

'HE Ramblers met this day at Bridgeton Cross, shortly after 3 p.m., the company numbering thirteen. The weather was delightful, and in every way suitable for outdoor enjoyment. They proceeded by London Road, passing on the way the large Hospital at Belvidere. Our path brought us in close proximity to the Clyde Iron Works, whose glare at night is seen for many miles around Glasgow, and which has evoked the muse in the following lines:—

“ The moon does fu’ weel when the moon’s in the lift, But oh, the loose limmer takes mony a shift; Whiles here and whiles there, and whiles under a hap— But yours is the steady licht, Colin Dunlap! ”

At Foxley a short rest and refreshment were taken, and then we turned down towards the Clyde. A CARMYLE AND KENMURE. 25

beautiful walk through the fields brought us in view of the river, and here we met Mr. Hill, who led us to a point from which a fine view of Kenmure Wood was obtained, with the Clyde laving its sides. From another position we had a most beautiful prospect of the Clyde flowing on amidst the pretty banks decked with flowers, and trees laden with the foliage of early summer. Our guide, Mr. Cullen, here read a short extract from Macdonald’s “Rambles.” “Kenmure bank is a steep acclivity which rises directly from the Clyde to the height of some sixty or seventy feet. It is a wild and bosky scene, covered with a picturesque profusion of timber, and is the habitat of flowers innumerable. At the foot of the bank, near its upper extremity, there is a fine spring, which is known by the name of the “ Marriage Well,” from a couple of curiously united trees which rise at its side and fling their shadows over its breast. To this spot, in other days, came wedding parties, on the day after the marriage, to drink of the crystal water, and, in a cup of the mountain dew, to pledge long life and happiness to the loving pair whom, on the previous day, old Hymen had made one in the bands which death alone can sever.” The author then recalls many of the forms and faces he has seen in this lovely spot. One of the verses of a song which Macdonald heard sung here by one of the Harvie’s c 26 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

Dyke heroes may be taken as expressing the sentiments of the Sylvan Ramblers. “ When sweet simmer’s smile sets the brae a’ a-blooming, And swallows return frae their haunts o’er the sea; While rosebud and hawthorn their dens are perfuming, And speedwells are bright as a fair maiden’s e’e; Kingcups and daisies fair Spangle our meadows rare, Lilies are glancing where clear streamlets flow; Forth o’er hill and glen, Far frae the haunts o’ men, Joyously wandering we flower-lovers go.” After a short stop beside the Well, we directed our steps along the banks of the Clyde and by the margin of the wood. The winter spates have made sad havoc with the banks, and very little remains of the nice little path that ran from one end of the wood to the other. The journey in consequence was one of the roughest, and some feats of agility had occasionally to be gone through ere sure footing was obtained. From this point on to Carmyle the walk is a most delightful one, and very pleased were all with its singular beauty. A short distance from Carmyle the guide points out the spot and tells of a very tragic event said to have occurred at this place many years ago. At Betty Brechan’s very little preparation was made for our refreshment, and we had just to make the best shift we could for ourselves in the garden. When refreshments were over, the Secretary read the Minutes of the CAKMYLE AND KENMURE. 27 two previous rambles; and, after resting some time, we regained the banks of the Clyde, and walked by a most charming road towards Dunlop’s Bridge, passing on the way “Bogle-Hole”—a ford where not only horses and carts but men, and occasionally bonnie lasses even, with their drapery high-kilted, may be seen in langsyne fashion wading from bank to bank through the rushing waters. Crossing the wooden bridge, we reached Cambuslang, where a short rest was again taken, after which we took train to Glasgow. 28 SYLVAX RAMBLERS.

Ramble V.—5th June, 18S6.

forkindale Law and Peeseweap Inn.

Guide, Me. Johx Miller.

UR visit to Peeseweep Inn on the 4th of June, 1885, was so successful that it was resolved by the members to make it an annual one; and, in accordance with this resolution, the Ramblers journeyed on the 5th of June to Corkindale Law and the lonely Inn on the Moor—fourteen making up the party. Our guide drew out a fine programme, and our worthy printer quite excelled his former efforts, and provided a beautiful card, adorned with a cut of the far-famed Peeseweep Inn. We travelled by Neilston and the face of the Pereneze Braes • but on reaching the Law, we found that, on account of the haze, we were not to have a renewal of the glorious prospect we had last year. The party had, instead, to content themselves listening to Macdonald’s account of the beautiful view :— COEKINDALE LAW AND PEESEWEEP INN. 29

“ Looking to the north we have the Kilpatrick hills, the rock of Dumbarton, the vale of Leven, with a glimpse of Lochlomond and several of its islands; while Benlomond, Benledi, the Cobbler, and countless other cloudcapt peaks are seen, heav- ing their heads to the sky on the misty horizon. Turning to the east we have the fertile valley and basin of the Clyde, from Tintoc (which is seen from crown to base) down to Kilpatrick. The three wards of Clydesdale, indeed, with their innumerable towns, villages, and mansions, are spread as it were at your feet; while Campsie, western Lomonds of Fife, Bathgate, and Pentland hills are visible beyond. Direct your face now to the south, and immediately before you are the Lead, Cumnock, and Sanquhar hills, with the heights of Kirkcudbrightshire; while Saddleback and Skiddaw, in Cumberland, loom dimly in the distance. The most beautiful prospect of all remains, however, and by turning to the south-west it bursts upon you in all its grandeur and variety. At your feet are seen the woods and glades of Eglinton, with a wide expanse of Ayrshire, sloping gradually downward to the sea, on the irregular margin of which are visible the towns of Irvine, Troon, and Ayr, with the brown hills of Garrick, and far away the opening of Lochryan and a portion of Galloway. Amid the waters, on which snowy sails are moving to and fro, the huge rock of Ailsa 30 SYLVAN RAMBLEES. stands proudly up, while the Arran hills and the headland of Kintyre are stretched out on the horizon. In certain states of the atmosphere, it is said, the mountains of Morne and Newry, in Ireland, are visible far over the blue waves. . . . Let those who would comprehend its magnificence, themselves visit the favoured spot where now we linger amid the beauty of earth, and sea, and sky.” After a short rest, our course was directed across the country to the Peeseweep Inn. Here we expected refreshments similar to those given us last year, and which were so satisfactory; but we were greatly delighted to find that Mrs. Muir had surpassed her previous efforts. “ The feast was spread, and down we sat, all eager for the fray; The guid wife kens what piles of ham and eggs we stowed away, And how the cakes and scones took wing like birds frae off a brae,— In the Peeseweep Inn.” Although the guid wife’s cakes and scones did take wing, still the resources of her cupboard seemed inexhaustible; as did also the resources of the company’s songs and sentiments. The walk, afterwards, to the “ Bonnie Wee Well,” was as enjoyable as ever; and, as the Ramblers rested on this spot, Mr. Connor read Macdonald’s beautiful poem— “ The bonnie wee well on the breist o’ the brae, That skinkles sae cauld in the sweet smile o’ day.” CORKINDALE LAW AND PEESEWEEP INN, 31

A rapid walk into Paisley brought us to the waiting train, which soon conveyed us to Glasgow, where, as we separated, all acknowledged the success of the Ramble to be largely due to the excellent arrangements of the guide. 32 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

Ramble VI.—19th June, 1SS6.

Busby and Mearus gastle.

Guide - Mr. Thomas Dow.

q§JUR party—numbering eleven—got off all right ° and duly arrived in Busby, where, in consequence of the extreme heat, we were compelled to make a call that was not put down in the programme. We then started for Waterfoot, passing along the banks of the White Cart. The walk was of the most delightful description, among scenery that recalled to us our name, for it was, indeed, Sylvan. In due time we arrived at Waterfoot, a sleepy little hamlet, where our guide has his country house, and where, by him, we were most hospitably entertained. During our halt, our photographer, Mr. Brown, took a few views, including our guide’s house and family. We then started for Mearns Castle. All the afternoon, and on the way to the castle, the guide was seen to be carrying a goodly sized travelling bag. BUSBY AND MEARNS CASTLE. 35 and when some inquisitive spirit among us asked what it was, he innocently answered, “ Ma claes! ma breeks ! ” and as we knew that he was to remain over Sunday with his family, nothing more was said or thought of it. We arrived at the castle, where the guide had the assistance of his uncle—a genial spirit, and a most desirable rambler, who kindly procured the key of the ruin from a neighbouring farmer; and, at the guide’s request, brought at the same time a large can full of spring water, which, he assured us, we would need very much when we reached the top. The structure consists of a strong quadrangular tower, the walls of which are from seven to eight feet in thickness, and are pierced at irregular inter- vals by windows and loopholes. In former times this sturdy keep, which is still in an excellent state of preservation, was surrounded by a thick wall, and there are also traces of an ancient drawbridge; but little, however, is known of the origin or history of Mearns Castle. We got safely up, and after admiring the beautiful views to be seen from all sides, we were called together by our guide, who opened his travelling bag, and took out what he called his “ claes,” and never were “ claes ” more welcome to a naked man than these same “claes” were to us, but with the difference!—we did not get into the “claes,” 34 SILVAN RAMBLERS. but they got into us ; and the can of water, provided with so much forethought, fulfilled more than one important duty. When fully satisfied with our stay on the ramparts, we descended; and, after a cordial leave-taking with our assistant guide, started for Newton-Mearns, and on the way met with Mr. and Mrs. Gibb, and Mr. and Mrs. Black, with the youngest member of the Black family. We soon reached the Golden Lion, where we sat down to a substantial tea, presided over by Mrs. Gibb and Mrs. Black, with their usual grace. After some time we adjourned outside, where a group was taken by Mr. Brown. The ladies, accompanied by their husbands, had to take a hurried leave to catch the ’bus to Giffnock, while the remainder had a most enjoyable walk homeward, enlivened by a recitation by Mr. M'Donald, in character, while he was carrying Mr. Brown’s photographic apparatus. Our guide, after seeing us fairly on our way, took leave of us, we giving him a ringing cheer in acknowledgment of the ability and kindness shown by him through- out the day’s proceedings. We arrived home all highly delighted with what might be termed a most enjoyable trip. DUMBARTON CASTLE. 35

Ramble VII.—7th August, 1886.

—o$o—

Dumtarton fostle,

Guide, Mr. Hugh Macbeth.

HE party to Dumbarton Castle numbered nine- ^ teen, five of them being friends. Leaving Dundas Street Station at 3.15 p.m., we reached Bowling at 4. The weather was delightful, so that the walk to Dumbarton, past Dunglass and Dum- buck, was greatly enjoyed. As we pass Dumbuck, we see its huge precipitous sides presenting a bold front to the Clyde, and we cannot but have a feeling of pride within us that the lady friends of the Ramblers were plucky enough last year to scale the huge rocks and seat themselves on its summit. On this occasion, however, we push on our way to the castle, which is seen to loom up before us. “ See, old Alclutha to the sight displays Her rock—impregnable in ancient days— Frowns like old Ilium, ’midst her waters placed, Its base by Clyde and Leven's tide embraced; From the broad stream its whitening summits rise, Like famed Parnassus towering to the skies.” 36 SYLVAN ItAMISLEHS.

Punctually to time our guide brought us to the gate of the castle, which stands near the extremity of the peninsula between the Clyde and the Leven. It rises sheer up from the low, flat, marshy tract, and stands completely isolated from any other elevations. The rock has a double-peaked form — the northern peak being a little higher than the other, but not so broad, and is sometimes called “Wallace’s Seat.” Ossian, speaking about “ Balclutha”—which

dumbabton’ castle. signifies the home-town of the Clyde, and which is the poetic name of Dumbarton Castle—says : “ The thistle shakes there its lovely head; ” and, strange to say, the true Scottish thistle, though really a rare plant in Scotland, still grows wild on Dumbarton rock. One of the garrison—we were told that two soldiers comprised the garrison—now took us under his care, and led us by a flight of steps through a deep cutting in the rock, and under a DUMBARTON CASTLE. 37 small building in which it is said Wallace was con- fined. By a very steep and winding stair we gain the summit of the rock, from which a pretty and extensive view is obtained. The long line of the Clyde is seen at our feet, with craft of all kinds on its placid bosom. Looking toward the north we can with difficulty make out the lofty Ben Lomond, almost shrouded in cloud. At our feet the town of Dumbarton, and its shipbuilding yards, are very distinctly seen. Having viewed the beauties of Nature, we now sat down to enjoy its bounties, and these were made all the more enjoyable when inter- spersed as they were profusely with the comical remarks of our guide. The soldier now conducted us to the armoury, where we were shown rusty Lochaber axes, pikes taken from the Radicals at Bonnymuir, old helmets as heavy as porridge pots, which must have given their wearers no little trouble to carry ■ and the veritable sword of the patriot Wallace — at least tradition so asserts. This weapon was inspected with patriotic reverence, despite the incredulous remarks of some of the party. Not far from the armoury we were shown the building where a number of French prisoners were detained during the Peninsular War. At the rear of this structure we were shown the dungeon where Lady Mar was imprisoned. 38 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

Returning to the vicinity of the armoury we find our worthy geologist busily employed aiding the elements in the work of demolition, and carrying away some of the results in his pockets, and which may afford food for another excellent paper during the coming winter. After a short rest at the base of the rock, from which we have a fine view of its precipitous sides, we direct our steps to the Elephant Hotel. Shortly after sitting down to tea, Mr. Hart and a friend entered the room and received a splendid reception, and they in turn were followed by Mr. Black, who had come from Greenock to join the party. Our worthy President presided at the table, as usual— a post he has never been absent from during eighteen consecutive rambles, and which he has always occupied with much honour to the Society. The evening was spent in a most enjoyable manner. % Mr. Hart and friend were conducted to their conveyance, which was to take them back to Helens- burgh, and on driving off received a most enthusiastic cheer from the assembled Ramblers. This created no little stir in the street, and was acknowledged by Mr. Hart in the most graceful manner. At nine o’clock we took train for Glasgow, which was reached before ten. The trip was a very enjoyable one, and all seemed well pleased with the satisfactory arrangements made by the guide. THE CRAIG OF CAKNOCK AND ROUKKN GLEN. 39

Ramble VIII.—21st August, 1886.

The Eraig of Earijock and Rouken &len.

Guide, Mr. James Hart. ..o£o«

E started for this ramble with twelve members and three friends—another member joining us on the homeward journey. We had a quiet uneventful run to Barrhead by the 2.45 p.m. train from St. Enoch’s. A short rest, with refreshments, was arranged for us here by our guide, who was truthfully described on the programme as— “ A man of glee, with hair of glittering grey, As blythe a man as you could see on an Autumn holiday.” Passing through Barrhead, where our presence * created some curiosity as to our object, we left the town and reached a beautiful country road, rendered refreshing by the rich foliage that overhung our path. As we travelled along we met our brother Rambler, Mr. Connor, who evidently considered the walk too short, and had therefore come all the way on foot from Glasgow. The country now presented a wild, moorland character; but soon we reached the reservoir, close by the Glanderston House. 40 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

Around the hanks of the dam were several followers of old Isaac, and who, in reply to the query of our party, declared, as usual, “they were not getting much.” The scene was one of exquisite beauty, adorned as it was by the old ruin, and having for a background the hill of Carnock. We now set a stout heart to a steep brae, and went straight up the hill. It was perhaps somewhat unwise of our guide to lead us the way he did, and we were perhaps equally unwise to follow; but, as the guide earried the refreshment, our foolishness was more apparent than real. The ascent was a very stiff one, and we were truly thankful it lasted but a short time. It is painful to record that some of the oldest were among the first to reach the summit—our <3.0.M. having the honour of third place. It may be mentioned though that those who were among the first came very close to Mr. Hart. The company were glad to rest themselves on the hill for a time to regain their breath, after which inspection wss made of the feast Nature had provided for us. Queen Mary’s Chair was examined, and the formation of the Craig closely scrutinized, and a much closer examination was then made of our pockets, to see what had been left there for our pic-nic. Our worthy guide declared on the card :— “ We’ve aye been provided for, And sae will we yet.” THE CRAIG OF CARNOCK AND ROCKKN GLEN. 4t

And even so we found it. We were promised a magnificent prospect from the hill, but the haze interposed to prevent this, and the view was therefore of a very limited character; but what we did see assured us of a glorious prospect under favourable circumstances. As at Corkindale Law, so here, we contented ourselves with M'Donald’s account of the view which the Craig commands. We regretted the absence of our geologist, as some interesting questions were raised, to answer which we required the experience and ability of Mr. White. We descended by a much easier way than we came up, and a beautiful path through the fields led us to the road. Our course took us by green hedgerows, clumps of planting, and fields rich with the wealth of Autumn’s treasures, while the modest wild flowers by the wayside had some among us to pay them attention. A considerable distance past the roofless Pollok House we noticed a somewhat odd-looking block in the midst of a field. We were informed, on the authority of our worthy guide, that this was the spot where King Charlie viewed the battle of Langside ! an historical fact which, somehow or other, has been omitted from all histories ! We now reached the Itouken Glen, permission to visit which had been kindly granted by Alexander Crum, Esq., Thornliebank House. The gardner led us through some beautiful sylvan nooks, by the side D 42 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

of the burn, and at one point where we rested we had a magnificent view of the rock far down below us. As we looked on the beautiful scene before us, Burns’ lines, which had very appropriately been placed on the programme, came to our mind :— “Whiles o’er a linn the burnie plays, As through the glen it wimples; Whiles roun’ a rocky scar it strays, Whiles on a well it dimples.”

Passing on we reached Thornliebank House, and then went by a foliage-covered path towards the garden and vineries. We were shown some of the finest plants, and our teeth were made to ivaterhj the sight of beautiful peaches, luscious-looking grapes, and ripening figs. After a short stroll through the gardens, we left the grounds by the front entrance, highly delighted with what we had seen; and with feelings of gratitude to Mr. Crum for his kindness. On entering Thornliebank we were kindly invited into the Village Club by one of the office-bearers, and were surprised at the munificent liberality the villagers had received from the Crum family. After a somewhat lengthy stay we journeyed on to Thornliebank Station, where we took train for Glasgow. Ample arrangements had been made by our guide for the comfort of all, while the pawky humour, and never-failing answer, kept all in the best of spirits; and the trip to the Craig of Carnock and Rouken Glen was a most enjoyable one. CASTLE CAMPBELL AND DOLLAR GLEN.. 43

Ramble IX.—28th August, 1886. ••0<>0*

Kastle fempMl and Dollar &l@n.

Guides—Messrs. Bryson and Meiklejohn.

TTO-DAY we have an outing with the ladies, and the company numbers thirty-one. The weather was dull and threatening, but, as the day progressed, became all that we could wish. Queen Street Station was left at 9.10 a.m. After the usual detention at Cowlairs, we passed on our way speedily, and reached Stirling in a comparatively short time. Passing Causewayhead Station, we had the Abbey Craig on our left—on the summit of which stands the Wallace Monument—the scene of our closing ramble last year. Dashing along by the foot of the Ochils, and through the midst of the beautiful valley of the Devon, we pass Harvies- toun Castle, where the late Sir Andrew Orr of our city had a lordly residence; and a quaint sepulchre, overgrown with grass and weeds, known as “ Tait’s Tomb,” and where the ancestors of the late Archbishop of Canterbury are lying at rest. We soon arrived at Dollar, and as we pass through 44 SYLVAN RAMBLERS. the village •we get glimpses of the famous academy which was so richly, but strangely, endowed, and which has attracted scholars from every part of the world—some of them rising to great distinction. The party went leisurely up the burnside, and soon reached the mouth of Dollar Glen. Far above us could be seen Castle Campbell, in a most romantic situation, and presenting a picture of charming love-

CASTLE CAMPBELL, DOLLAR. liness. Our path now became extremely narrow and overgrown with a dense luxuriance of foliage, while far down below could be seen the water shimmering in the sunshine. After passing the scene of a terrible accident, we sat down and partook of a slight refreshment, and were here joined by the keeper of the grounds, Mr. Ferguson, who proved CASTLE CAMPBELL AND DOLLAR GLEN, 45 a great acquisition to us. Continuing our course, we found ourselves amidst a wealth of wild flowers and ferns, until we reached the junction of the rivulets of Sorrow and Care. Over the meeting of the waters has been erected what is termed the Long Bridge, ninety-six feet in length, and over which frowns an enormous wall of rock, two hundred feet in height. With a lamentable want of gallantry the ladies were sent over the bridge first, probably to ensure the safety of their lords and masters However, the ladies were never seen to such advantage as when viewed on the Long Bridge from the lofty path of the glen. From the Bridge we have a view which we might say is unsurpassed in bonnie Scotland—the dark depths of the banks, clothed with wood and sonorous with the rushing of turbid waters, the fine healthy uplands above leading away into a wilderness of pathless hills, form a scene not unlike some of the Swiss Alps. Passing over the bridge, we ascended to the foot of Kemp’s Score, a long, narrow chasm which runs up to the knoll on which Castle Campbell stands. It is said that the late Dr. Andrew Mylne, minister of Dollar, had the misfortune to make a slip at the top of the Score, and slid all the way down on his back, to the no small detriment of his nether garments. The scenery here is of the most varied kind, all grand, and some of it sublime; and we feel awed by the 46 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

wild sublimity of the chasm—the rifted rocks overhanging the bridge, and the bending trees inter- twining their branches and foliage, and—- “ The burnie dashing doon the glen, O’er rocky scaur, where brackens ben’, Or wimpling soft by fairy den, Amang the woods o’ Campbell.” Proceeding farther up the glen, we reached a point where the ladies obtained a much-needed rest, and thereafter we took up our position at the side of the burn, where we were photographed by Mr. Brown. After this, Mr. Ferguson led us to the Sochie Falls, where “ Sweet scenes of beauty meet the e’e, Of rifted rock, and flower, and tree; A richer picture could’na be— The leafy Glen o’ Campbell.” Some one suggested that the ladies should at once go up to Castle Campbell, as they were afraid the climb of Jacob’s Ladder would be too much for them. The ladies pluckily refused to agree to this, and ascended the one hundred and fifty-seven steps with considerable alacrity. We rested for a short time in George Roy’s chair, and then ascended still higher to the Fairy Knowe, from which we had an extensive and delightful prospect of the surrounding country. After spending a most happy time here, we made the descent to the Upper Sochie, and by a sweet, meandering path at length reached CASTLE CAMPBELL AND DOLLAR GLEN. 47

Castle Campbell. On our way one of the ladies had the misfortune to fall and get a sprain, which was the only unfortunate incident we have to record during an excursion beset with no little danger. Castle Campbell stands on a rocky promontory between the two burns of Sorrow and Care, and in the good old times must have been well-nigh impregnable—the ruins forming a beautiful relic of the feudal times, and to-day is a noble monument of bygone ages. The keep is a stern old pile, worth coming miles to see, with its old, old stories of Mon- trose and Campbell, and its flaming fires and sudden surprises. The fortress is supposed to have been erected about 1300, and was formerly called “Castle Gloom,” until in 1490 the Earl of Argyll changed it to “Castle Campbell.” In 1644 it was burned by Montrose immediately before the Battle of Kilsyth, and it suffered severely during the calamities of the Civil Wars. What remains of it is in a good state of preservation, and a part of it is occupied by Mr. Ferguson, who so kindly conducted us through the glen. After taking a short ramble around the time-worn edifice, the company set about making minute inspection of its various chambers. The vaults were dreary and dismal to the last degree, and fancy brought before our minds poor wretches left here to spend a most 48 SYLVAN RAMBLEHS.

miserable existence. If we can get “ sermons in stones,” surely the walls of these dungeons should teach us to be grateful for the times in which we live. The new Pathways, which opened up the wild beauties of the glen, were completed in 1864. In a short poem, the late Baroness Nairne says— '• Oh! Castle Gloom! on thy fair wa's Nae banners now are streamin’; The houlet flits among the ha’s, And wild birds there are screamin’.”

We ascended to the summit of the castle, visiting the large halls on each landing, and were delighted with the lovely landscape all around. Here can be seen the rich valley of the Devon opening up before you, so well laid out, and so well cultivated that it looked like so many beautiful garden plots. In a room of the castle an excellent dinner was prepared for us, which gave the utmost satisfaction. This was followed by a very line programme. The toast of the guides was cordially responded to, and well worthy were Messrs. Bryson and Meiklejohn of the praises bestowed on them. The arrangements made by these gentlemen were of the most ample kind; while the glorious weather, and the beautiful scenery, contributed to make an enjoyable ramble, and one which memory will recall with pleasure. Mr. James Napier, from Ipswich, England, son of our worthy president, acknowledged the toast CASTLE CAMPBELL AND DOLLAR GLEN. 49 of the friends in a very happy manner. After thanking the Ramblers for the kindness shown the friends, Mr. Napier expressed the great pleasure he had experienced with the charming scenery they had that day been privileged to witness; and further referred to the large number of tourists who went to the Continent to see scenery that could in no way •exceed that of our own country. When we exhausted our programme, we ascended another of the hills, and from this still higher vantage ground we got an exceedingly fine view of what Dr. Norman Macleod graphically termed “God’s glorious architecture.” The evening, was beautifully clear—the twilight shades making the mountains look even higher and grander—so that our prospect was a very fine one. Far on our left was Lochleven with its lonely castle and the Lomonds of Fife; to the south the eye carried us over the Forth to the distant Pentlands, and the more distant Tinto; and nearer, on the right, we could trace some of the windings of the Forth, “And all the vales between that lie, Till Stirling’s turrets melt in sky.” We now reached the village once more, and soon got the train from Dollar to Glasgow, but had rather a dreary ride, there being only one flickering light to the three-compartment carriage we occupied. 50 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

Ramble X.—11th September, 1886.

..o<0>o»-

Pairli@ &len and Largs.

Guide, - Mr. J. R. W. Stewart, M.A.

•0^0** fHIS was the anniversary of our visit to Campsie Glen in 1885, amidst torrents of rain, and a strange coincidence led us to a glen this year, and under almost similar circumstances—the day being a remarkably wet one in the city. We travelled by G. and S. W. Railway to Fairlie, leaving St. Enoch at 2.45 p.m. The train was a fast one, and we reached Fairlie at 4, The heavy rain had by this time drawn off, and, except a slight shower, we had no more the rest of the day. The village of Fairlie, ere the introduction of the railway in 1880, was somewhat difficult of access. Visitors had to content themselves with the ferry from the steamer; and frequently when the tide was low they had to be conveyed ashore on the ferry- FAIRLIE GLEN AND LARGS. 51 man’s back. All this is now changed, however. Fairlie possesses two stations and a very substantial pier. From the sea it presents a charming ^picture of sylvan quietude, apparently having little or no interest in the noisy world outside. It has for many years been famous for yacht building—the Fyfes of Fairlie having long held a distinguished name for the excellence of the work they turn out. It may be of further interest to note that the steamer “Industry” was built here in 1814. As Fairlie can now be reached very easily from the city, it is year by year increasing in popularity as a summer resort. The glen is of considerable beauty, but having the misfortune to be visited by the Ramblers after Dollar Glen, it was not at all appreciated to the extent it otherwise would have been. The heavy rain had flooded the burn so that the two or three falls the glen possesses were seen to the best advantage. The castle stands on a round knoll in a prominent part of the glen, and is simply a square, built, it is said, in 1521. Elizabeth Halket, Lady Wardlaw, makes the castle the scene of her fine ballad, Hardy Knute. The interior is now somewhat difficult of access, but a few members made an entrance. To not a few of the party, as they traversed the glen, memory, we feel assured, raised up happy days spent in the vicinity of the old ruin; 52 SYLVAN RAMBLERS. glorious summer days made happier by the society of genial friends—some of whom are gone to lands far distant, and others who no longer are. A visit was paid to a fall close by the castle, over which tumbled a considerable volume of water; and as the chasm is clothed and decorated with sylvan beauty, the effect was very pretty. Soon after- ward we gathered together to enjoy our sandwiches, and after this refreshment retraced our steps to Fairlie. Continuing our way northward, we pass over the Battlefield of Largs, where Haco, King of Norway, in 1263, was defeated by the Scots in a sanguinary conflict. From the Broomfields we had a very fine view of the sea, presenting a somewhat stern and forbidding aspect, quite unlike itself in summer. Farther on we passed over the Gogo Burn, whose name is strongly denounced by Macdonald in his “ Days at the Coast.” He attempted to put it into rhyme, but confessed he was quite unable.

“ I courted sweet Girzle for many a day, But found after all it was ‘no go ’; So I packed up my traps, and I took to ihe way, And for aye said farewell to Gogo.”

The town of Largs is beautifully situated at the foot of an amphitheatre of hills which here recede from the shore as if anxious to give ample room for this popular watering-place. Beautiful villas stretch FAIRLIE GLEX AND LARGS. 55 along the shore. One in the north part of the town —Netherhall—is specially noteworthy as the summer residence of the eminent scientist, Sir William Thomson, of Glasgow University. The town, with its background of lovely hills, presents a picture of considerable beauty, so that it has become one of our most popular coasting places. From the shore we have views of Arran, with Goatfell towering high over all the other giant peaks; and nearer we have the whole stretch of the Cumbrae, which is only separated from the Ayrshire coast by a little over two miles. Beautiful prospects can also be obtained of Loch Striven, the mouth of the Kyles, and the entrance to Rothesay Bay. The shores of Bute, as far down as Mountstuart, also come within our vision ; and casting our eyes more to the north, we have bits of the Argyllshire coast as far up as Innellan. The views are of the most varied and extensive character, and must add very much to the pleasure which a sojourn in this delightful place is sure to afford to the summer resident. Mr. Archibald Black now conducted us to his villa —Arbinafield—recently built, and where, according to our programme, we were to make a final official inspection. We were received by Mrs. Black and Mrs. Napier, daughter and daughter-in-law respectively of our esteemed president. The inspection over, we sat down to a splendid tea, which Mr.. 54 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

Black so kindly provided for us. Tea over, Mr. Bryson proposed the health of Mr. Black, thanking him especially on behalf of the Ramblers for his liberality to the members, and the very kind reception he had accorded them. The toast was drunk with much enthusiasm. Mr. Black, in responding, expressed his pleasure that so many Ramblers had braved the elements to take part in the “ heating of the house,” and thanked them very much for their good wishes. Other toasts followed, all of which met with a cordial response. Passing our now brief time in a most enjoyable manner, we then hastened to Largs, and catching the last train, arrived in Glasgow after a run'of a little over two hours, highly delighted with our trip to the coast. ERSKINE FERRY AND RENFREW. 55

Ramble XI.—25th September, 1886.

•O^O**

Erskiue Ferry and Renfrew,

Guides, - Messrs. Black and Gibb.

TpHE last half-day Ramble of the session took place ^ on this date, and on this occasion there was a good muster of the Ramblers. On the way to West Kilpatrick we were shown some very tasteful tene- ments of houses built by one of our guides, Mr. Gibb, and certainly they showed to great advantage when compared with the blocks on the south side of the road, which are simply hideous in their stern plainness. When we neared Kilpatrick we were joined by our fellow Rambler, Mr. Connor, who might well be described an inveterate Rambler, as he scorns railway trains and all other effeminate modes of travelling; and as he has plenty of time, he takes his stick or umbrella and foots it, and usually turns up after we come out of the train, or when the longest bit of walking begins. After greetings, we went down to get the ferry-boat to 56 SYLVAN RAMBLERS. cross to Erskine, but it was at the other side of the- river then, and though our guide shouted loud and long to them in charge, it was of no use. Evidently there is no competition and little enterprise yonder. After waiting some time the small boat was finally pulled across for us, and into it we got. Our party, with two strangers and the ferryman, brought the number up to twenty men—far too many for such a crank boat; but with steady caution we got all right till near the landing place, where some confusion was caused by the eagerness of some of the party to get out, and in springing, caused the boat to give a deep lurch till the water was within an inch or two of the gunwale. The effect of this was to nearly throw one of our number into the water, and to knock the hat of another member into it. However, it was a good thing for the member that his head was not inside his hat, as the consequences might have been serious to him ; but, all joking aside, there are few among us but will admit it was a foolish freak for so many to pack themselves into such a small boat as we then did, and it is a lesson to us for the future. After getting out of the ferry, we got in to the Ferry Inn, where we had something to soothe our nerves, and then started for Renfrew—the road thereto being as charming a walk as one could well desire, many parts of it more resembling an avenue ERSKINE FERRY AND RENFREW. 57 than anything else; and many of the members resolved that they would have a better acquaintance with it. After a halt at a small clachan called Broomlands, passing over a very fine bridge which spans the Gryffe and Cart, here a discussion arose as to which river was which, and we think it was not settled when we left. We soon arrived in Renfrew, and adjourned to the Blytheswood Rest- aurant, where our guides had ordered tea for us; to which, after our walk, we did ample justice. We had intended walking up to Fairfield, but darkness and heavy rain had set in, and it was deemed advisable to train it home, which we did, all highly delighted with our Ramble, and regretting it was the last Saturday Ramble for the season.

E 58 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

Ramble XII.—7th October, 1886.

Tillietudlem Eastls and gtonebyres Falls.

Guide Mr. Thomas Hill.

UR party to-day, with the ladies, was a large one. The weather in the morning had a very unsettled look, and fears were entertained that we would have an unpleasant day; but happily for our comfort these anticipations turned out groundless. We reached Tillietudlem Castle at 10.45 a.m., and after enjoying a pleasant walk from the station, before making an inspection of the Old Keep, sat down in the large, open court to a much needed refreshment. Our worthy guide had, with his usual thoughtfulness, made due provision for all our tastes, and we were soon in the best of humour, feeling at peace with everybody. As we sat enjoying our repast, the robins on the neighbouring trees were having a little concert of their own, pouring out their richest melodies, and contributing in no small degree to our enjoyment. We now set out to explore the old time-worn TILLIETUDLEM CASTLE AND STONEBYRES FALLS. 59

edifice. The castle applies in some respects to the description of Tillietudlem Castle in Sir Walter Scott’s “Old Mortality.” It stands in a most romantic position, on the left bank of the Nethan, three miles from its junction with the Clyde. According to the lines on our programme— “Naked stood the melancholy walls, Lashed by the wintry tempest, cold and bleak, That whistle mournfully through the empty halls, And piecemeal crumbles down the tower to dust.”

But recently efforts have been made to preserve the •grand old ruin from utter decay, and to render the tower less dangerous than hitherto. We proceeded to the summit, where not a little care was found necessary to prevent accidents; but the fatherly protection of Mr. Hill brought the party unharmed through all the danger. All around us we found the country richly wooded, and especially so on the steep declivity of the Kethan’s banks; while away and beyond, the land has a pastoral character, presenting a picture of peace, most refreshing to us pent-up denizens of the great city. Having enjoyed the beautiful prospect, Mr. Miller produces his flute, and soon a quadrille party was formed. Of course the great Macduff, and his still greater partner, were in the set, and we all felt glad the workmen had been in the castle before us, adding to its strength and stability. 60 SYLVAN KAMBLEES.

The dance over, we made our way down to the court, and being provided with candles we set about exploring what Scott terms the Whig’s Dungeon^ and which, according to Lady Margaret in “ Old Mortality,” is not more than two stories beneath ground; so with great consideration she declares “it cannot be unwholesome, as she thought there was somewhere an opening to the outer air.” If there was an opening we could not find it, save the door by which we entered; and the darkness was- intense. Dr. Smith helped us to find the well by which the garrison was supplied with water. We gladly got into the fresh air again, thankful that we live in times when even the worst criminals cannot be consigned to such terrible holes. We saw the window out of which Jeanie Dennison poured the scalding broth on Cuddie Headrigg, when the Covenanters, under Balfour of Burleigh, made their desperate attack on the castle. A delightful walk was now enjoyed through the ravine of the Nethan, and the prospect down the river presented a picture of charming beauty. A short rest was obtained in Tillietudlem Hotel, and then we set out for Stonebyres Falls. We passed through the village of Crossford, and at the Public School received a somewhat noisy greeting from the children, who, attracted by a generous display of coppers, followed us for some distance. On the way TILLITUDLEM CASTLE AND STONEBYRES FALLS. 61

■we passed numerous orchards, whose display of apples and pears excited a feeling in us which has been described as “ teeth-watering.” After a very beautiful walk, in which we had glorious prospects of the Clyde scintillating in the sunshine, we reached Stonebyres. A heavy rain having fallen the night previous, Nature had prepared for the Ramblers a sight that can only he characterized by one word— sublime. The water in one unbroken sheet fell eighty feet into the deep salmon pool, with a roar that was far-reaching. After musing on the grand scene for some time, we sat down on the green bank and partook of a beaker. We also relieved our worthy friend, Mr. Connor, of a basket of fruit, which he very considerately obtained for us from an orchard in the vicinity. After viewing the scene from other points, we turned our steps once more towards Tillietudlem Hotel. Each one could say with truth — “ I’ve wandered in the glen Where Stonebyres rolls so proudly, And watched and mused, and watched again, Where cliff and chasm and cloud lie, Listening while Nature’s denizen Talks to the woods so loudly.’’ Two of our company had seen Stonebyres by the pale moonlight, however, and under circumstances which excited the honest interest of the Ramblers. As we journeyed along, Mr. Miller preceded us 62 SYLVAX RAMBLERS.

playing his flute, which was a much more harmless proceeding than the one at Kilbarchan, when we were drummed out of that town. The party at dinner was the largest we ever had at any of the Rambles, and shows that the interest in our excursions is by no means waning. There were the usual number of toasts, to each of which was a lively response. There was no lack either of excellent musical talent, while the singing of Miss Fletcher and others was greatly appreciated. Our long programme, owing to our limited time, had to be curtailed, and then we directed our steps to Tillietudlem Station. The walk in the gloaming up the ravine of the Nethan, and by the old castle, was greatly relished.

Far down yon winding, deep ravine The silvery Nethan sweetly glides, ’Midst fallen rocks, thick strewn between Its sloping banks and craggy sides. And high upon yon wooded steep, Craignethan Castle looms in sight, With crumbling towers and dungeon deep. Deserted, silent as the night.

After a short delay at the station, we got our special carriage, and soon were on our way to Glasgow. Our guide, Mr. Hill, was as usual most assiduous in his attentions to all, and fully main- tained the excellent reputation he has earned. MAYBOLE AND CULZEAN CASTLE. 63

THIRD SESSION

Ramble I.—11th April, 1887.

Maybole and Kulzean Kastle,

Guides, - Messrs. Black and Cukkie.

HE Third Session of the Sylvan Ramblers was inaugurated by an excursion to May bole and Culzean Castle—the residence of the Marquis of Ailsa. The party to-day numbered thirty. Leaving St. Enoch Station at 7 a.m., an earlier start than has ever been previously made by the Ramblers, and in carriages specially engaged for our accommodation, the company were in the best of spirits; the morning entrancing us with its abundance of sunshine, and giving us the promise of a warm, summer-like day. The smoky city is soon left far behind. Towns and villages are passed by in rapid succession, while the sunshine grows brighter, and the air more balmy as we proceed. In the fields the workers are not idle this morning—here we see the plough cutting its deep furrows; there the sower scattering the seed, 64 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

which in due time will show life, and cover the ground with waving golden grain; in another place they are busy setting potatoes—one of the staple productions of this region; and above all, in the clear, blue sky, the lark carols forth his early morning lay. Ayr is reached about 9 a.m., and after a stay of five minutes only, we proceed on our journey. To the east side we notice some buildings of an imposing character, and of considerable extent, which we learn are the Glengall Lunatic Asylum. After leaving the little village and station of Dal- rymple, about five miles from Maybole, we cross the river Doon, and for a short distance the railway runs alongside this stream so famous in our songs. On the west we get a fine view of Sir Peter Coats’ residence, Auchendrone House, while all south of the Hoon is the kingdom of Garrick, famous of old for its hardy race of fighting men. “ Among the bonny winding banks, Where Doon rins wimplin’ clear, Where Bruce ance ruled the martial ranks, And shook his Oarrick spear.”

We find ourselves now in a district differing considerably from that in which we have been hitherto journeying. The somewhat flat monotony of central Ayrshire is broken up, and a more picturesque region delights us. Mochram Hill starts from the sea-shore, the fine range of the Straiton Hills bounds the MAYBOLE AND CULZEAN CASTLE. 65

prospect on the east. On Kildorn Hill we can see a monument erected by the tenantry to the memory of Sir Charles Fergusson of Kilkerran, an uncle of the present Sir James Fergusson. We now arrive at our destination, and are soon standing on the platform at Maybole, where we are met by the portly landlord of the King’s Arms, who escorts us to his hospitable premises in the High Street, where we find our way to the large hall, and do ample justice to the substantial breakfast provided for us. We then make our way to the Auld College, which name we are told “ has nothing to do with our idea of a college or place of learning, but denotes a church which has a college or corporation of priests, and a daily service of public worship like a cathedral.” On our way we pass the Old Town House or Tolbooth, which commands the south end of High Street. “ It is not known exactly when this was built, but it has been used as a Tolbooth now for considerably upwards of two hundred years.” It is now in process of demolition, to give place to the extensive modern buildings needed for the present requirements of the town; though it has been decided to retain the present old tower with the new structure. Arriving at the Auld College, we are fortunate in getting admittance. It is the oldest building in Maybole, having stood now for upwards of five hundred years; and, besides its age, the old ruin is 66 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

famous as being the burial place of nearly the whole line of the “ Kings of Garrick,” “ Their bones are dust, Their swords are rust, Their souls are with the saints, we trust.” There is little to be seen inside the building^gxcept a plain tablet with the names of some of the Ailsa family, beginning with John, the seventh Earl, who died in 1701. It was on the 19th of May, 1563, that Mass was last celebrated here within its walls, although the act was illegal at the time in Scotland, and might have been punished severely. Neverthe- less, a band of two hundred Kennedys assembled here, with arms in their hands, on that day, and worshipped God in the old fashion. Leaving the Auld College, we return to the hotel, passing the Castle which commands the town’s entrance from the north. It is understood to have been built in 1560, as the town residence of the Lords of Cassilis. The building has been considerably modernized recently, and is now the residence of Mr. Smith, Lord Ailsa’s factor. Two brakes are now in readiness for the drive to Culzean, in which we take our places; and as we leave the town, it appears we are the objects of no little interest to the population, who are gathered in groups to see our departure. We should mention that Maybole in these days has become famous for shoemaking, which has made its name known all MAYBOLE AND CULZEAN CASTLE. 67 over the country. It is calculated that 1200 persons are engaged in this industry, who turn out upwards of 12,000 pairs of shoes every week, or the enormous amount of 600,000 pairs every year. It is also famous for the manufacture of agricultural imple- ments, their workmanship taking a first place at all our shows. It has a population of about 6700, and stands on the slope of a hill, 300 feet above sea level,.

CULZEAN CASTLE. and from almost any part of it may be had a fine- view of the country round about. Leaving Maybole by the low road, shortly after 11 o’clock, under the blaze of a warm sun, we soon reach Culzean Castle, which stands grandly on a rock overlooking the sea; and crossing the moat, we are soon seated beside some old cannon, mortars, and shells, on the terrace facing the sea. On one of these pieces is inscribed the date, 1640, with the maker’s name—John Brown. Lord Ailsa is himself at home to-day, and is seen interesting himself in making some astronomical observations, which is a 68 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

favourite recreation of his. The hour is now high noon, and under the guidance of one of the gardeners we are now conducted through the grounds. A little miniature artificial lake is soon disclosed to our view, on which are floating gracefully white and black swans. Some of the members of the Marquis’ family are here engaged in fishing, the water being well stocked with trout and salmon. Walking along the margin, we arrive at the boathouse, in which are stored small canoes and skiffs; while in the lake is a small island, access to which is had by stepping stones, and upon which is built a house for the birds. We are now shown through the conservatories, and to a beautiful summer house, from whose welcome shade it is difficult to get the ladies to withdraw, they feeling inclined to “ rest and be thankful; ” but our time is very limited, and already, we are forced to curtail our programme, and to shorten the dalliance in this delightful spot. Our visit to the young salmon ponds is highly interesting. Near this is the large rhododendron, said to be the largest in the country, but the season not being advanced enough for its flowers, it is shorn of much of its attraction. Two of our party, however, step around it, and give us an idea of its circumference; the former making it 54, and the latter 62 yards, and we agree to accept the average as the correct measurement. MAYBOLE AND CULZEAN CASTLE. G9

Pushing our way now down to the sea-shore, we visit the caves under the rock on which the castie is- built, which is pierced by a number of them, and which penetrate a long way inland. A tradition goes to the effect that a piper lost his way in one of them, and that his pipes were heard sounding beneath the ground as far as Straiten. Our drive now takes us two or three miles further south of Culzean Castle to the Maidens—a pretty fishing village on the sea-shore, and much frequented in the summer season for sea bathing. It takes its name from the rocks off the shore, which are frequently so called in Scotland. About a mile from here is Turnberry Lighthouse, built on the site of Turnberry Castle, once the seat of the Earls of Garrick, and the probable birthplace of King Robert the Bruce. Close by is the site of Shanter Farm. We now return on our homeward journey by the high road, and soon arrive at Kirkoswald—a small village four miles from Maybole. It was here Robert Burns attended the school of Hugh Rodger to study mathematics. His mother belonged to Craigenton in this parish, and the tombstone of the family recently renovated under the care of Dr. Rogers of Edinburgh, may still be seen in the churchyard. Tam o’ Shanter’s tombstone (properly called Douglass Graham ) and that of the old schoolmaster, are both close by the tomb of the Browns, from whom Burns came. 70 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

A short halt is made at Crossraguel Abbey, about two miles from Maybole. This memorable old pile stands close by the wayside, in a natural hollow, down which runs a small burn. Although now standing roofless for more than 300 years, the building is wonderfully complete. The Abbot’s Tower merely needs a roof to make it habitable, and the Chapter House does not need even that, but seems waiting with abbot’s chair and stone benches all around to receive its former occupants. The Abbey was founded in 1244 by Duncan M'Dowall, first Earl of Garrick. The present custodian, Sir James Fergusson, has been especially careful of its preservation. Our return again to Maybole is now soon accomplished, and not much behind the time appointed for dinner. This done justice to, and the usual toasts proposed and drank, the services of the guides not forgotten, we listen to the songs of Mrs. Gibb and Mrs. M‘Phee, and the recitations of Messrs. Adam and Fletcher. Maybole was left at 6.25 p.m., and Glasgow was safely reached, though at rather a late hour. We made no complaints, this being the only thing that marred a long day of pleasure. BISHOPBRIGGS AND MILNGAVIE. 71

Ramble II.—23rd April, 1887.

BishopMggs and MilngaYie, Yia Kadder

Wilderness.

Guides, - Messrs. Adam and James Miller.

•o^o«*

^Jj^/EAVING Queen Street Station at 3.8 p.m., we reach Bishopbriggs twenty minutes later. The afternoon looks dull and threatening, yet nothing daunted, for we are well prepared for a storm, we start out on our walk along the Kirkintilloch road. The fields are beautifully green from recent rains, and starred with gowans; while the buds are forming on the trees and hedges, and speak to us of the good time coming when flowers and fruit will be in profusion. As our own Rambler-Poet and guide writes on the top of the programme— “ A thousand welcomes, vernal spring, Since winter’s fled and ta’en the wing; Again with joy our earth will bring Forth fruits and flowers, And feathery songsters flit and sing ’Mong woody bowers.” 72 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

Kemnure House and grounds are situated immediately opposite the railway station; and about a mile or so along the main road is the new cemetery which has been laid out for Gadder Parish, but we diverge here on the road to the left, and in a few minutes we have crossed the Forth and Clyde Canal, where we arrive in view of Cadder Kirk—a modern Gothic erection built in 1829. Retracing our steps cityward, along the canal, by Jellyhill, the 'Wilder- ness is reached, where a short halt is made. The rain has, however, come on, and is pouring down in torrents, so that the view we anticipated having from this point is somewhat disappointing; nevertheless an expansive stretch of country lies before us—the Kelvin Valley, Strathblane and Kilpatrick Hills, Campsie Fells, terminating with Dungoyne; while the lofty Ben Lomond, shrouded from our view to-day, should have been seen in the distance “ like a huge giant asleep.” The scenery is indeed varied and charming, and here commands a lovely view, which, under more auspicious weather, would hare been highly appreciated. Skirting the north end of the wilderness, for fully a mile, we walk along the site of the Roman Wall. We pass Balmuildy farm steading, and join the main road to Milngavie. At the junction of the roads is Bemulie farmhouse. The sites of these two comfortable looking farms were formerly forts or BISHOPBRIGGS AND M1LNGAVIE. ( stations on the line of the great Roman Wall. Macdonald, in his Rambles, tells us these forts were erected at regular distances of about two miles. One camp being at New Kilpatrick, the one next at Bemulie in a westerly direction is, in accordance with this rule, as near as may be, two miles distant; as is also the one to the east of Gadder. All traces of the fort at this place, however, are now obliterated; not the faintest vestige even remains to mark its whereabouts. A short walk brings us to the new railway station at Summerston—a sleepy little one too, at which very little business seems to be done— on the Kelvin Valley railroad, which branches off at Maryhill to the terminus at Kilsyth. Passing this, we soon cross the little streamlet of Allander, much bigger to-day than usual, hastening to its junction with the Kelvin, in a sweet spot about half a mile to the south-east. A halt, now anxiously waited for, is called at the Old Toll House, where sandwiches are produced and eaten with satisfaction; while the crystal stream from the well around which we are clustered is also no less acceptable to revive our drooping spirits. Fortunately we have a bit dry blink here. The sun appears as if it would like to burst forth, and our hearts are cheered and rejoiced by the prospect, but, alas, it is only for a brief space. We now proceed on our way by the road to the right, and descend to p 74 SYLVAN RAMBLERS. the opposite side of the hill, where Bardowie Loch bursts upon our view—a lovely sheet of water covering about 70 acres in extent. On the north-east side is situated Bardowie House. Here we might have spent some time delightfully, but warned by the darkness of the clouds overhead, that like a thick pall stretched all around us, big with rain, and which soon descends in torrents, we push onwards without pausing, passing the ruins of Boghall, until we reach Baldernock, which consists of the Established and Free Churches with their manses, and a few stray cottages here and there. We enter the old kirkyard by projecting steps on either side of the boundary wall, and spend a short time in wandering amongst the tombs. The quaint little parish kirk is a very humble erection—the gallery being approached by an outside stair, while the bell on the gable top is rung by an iron chain suspended from the same down the front wall, in full view of all who assemble there for worship. Bidding farewell to Baldernock, we turn on the road to the west, down the hill, where a halt is called, and the rain having again cleared off, an opportunity is given and taken advantange of to hold an open-air meeting, at which the usual fortnightly business was transacted. On reaching Milngave, a pleasant surprise awaited us. We were accosted by a boy, stationed at the entrance to the village, who presented us each with BISHOPBRIGGS AND MILNGAVIE. 75 the card of a local restaurateur, on which was inscribed that “Visitors to Milngavie will find Crawford’s the best place to obtain refreshments; ” and on one was written in pencil, that the Sylvan Ramblers could have tea without delay. We were at first at a loss to know how information had been conveyed to this enterpising party of our coming, but we learned afterwards that a stranger friend who had accompanied us as far as Allander Toll, but had to return to the city earlier than we expected to get back, had arrived in the village an hour previously, found out the merits of this establishment, and apprised the proprietor of our expected arrival. Without hesitation we resolve to take advantage of the invitation, and proceed under the direction of the boy to the place in Cheapside, where we are promptly served with the exhilarating beverage in a comfortable, well-furnished apartment, and at a very modest charge. Leaving Milngavie about 9 p.m., half an hour’s smart travelling brings us once again to the stir and strife of Auld St. Mungo, as highly delighted with the afternoon as if we had experienced the best of weather. 76 Si'LVAN RAMBLERS.

Ramble III.—7th May, 1887.

Pollok and Erookston Sastle,

Guides, - Messrs. Hart and Dow.

ITH a party of thirty-two, we left Central Station at 3 p.m., arriving at Pollokshaws in a very short time. The weather was delightful— the day being bright and warm, and everything that could be desired. A few minutes’ walk north of the station on the main road brings us to an entrance to the policies of Sir John Maxwell, and entering into this picturesque, sylvan retreat, we enjoy a lovely walk along the main drive, between a splendid avenue of trees. The grounds are well stocked with game and other wild birds, and we observed before proceeding very far a herd of deer. After a walk of nearly a mile to the west of the town, we are brought in front of Pollok House, situated on the north bank of the Cart. It is a large house, four stories in height, with no architectural pretensions or beauty, but commodious, and no doubt replete in the interior with every comfort. It was erected in the year 1753 by the great-grandfather of the present POLLOK AND CROOKSTON CASTLE. 77 possessor, who died a few weeks after its completion. The gardens and pleasure grounds around the house are rarely to be equalled, but we are not permitted to enter these, and have to be content with viewing them from the outside. We can distinguish, however, the summer house on the hillside—the same having been scooped out of an immense trunk of oak, which was with great difficulty excavated from the banks of the Cart. It is said to be not less than twenty feet in diameter. An elegant bridge spans the Cart here, over which we cross; and having satisfied our thirst from a delightfully cool spring well, we are able to proceed onward invigorated and refreshed. Our walk now takes us westward along the banks of the river, through the spacious park, studded with some of the finest trees we have ever seen; indeed, finer woodland scenery is seldom to be witnessed than is found here; and to-day, with everything bright and beautiful surrounding us, we are happy and at peace with ourselves. We are now in sight of the old ruin of Crookston Castle, and our coming is evidently seen and recog- nised from afar, as we can discern the form of Mr. Dow on the ramparts of the tower walls, he having preceded us to make the necessary preparations for our arrival; not the least of which was to fix a banner on the summit of the old walls, bearing the strange device—not to us, but to the many 78 SYLVAN RAMBLERS. picnic parties there assembled—“The Sylvan Ramblers.” We now cross the Levern water by a bridge opposite the castle, and a pleasant and agreeable surprise awaits us, when we find there our friend, Mr. M'Kenzie, who has also preceded us for the purpose of providing us with an exhilarating cup of tea, for which he had brought with him all the essential elements necessary, and which was now ready for us. Sitting down on the slope of the hill, the tea is quickly served around, everyone expressing their satisfaction at this unexpected proof of our worthy guides’ consideration for the ladies, and no less acceptable to the gentlemen. Here Mr. Adam read a new poem by our own poet, Mr. James Miller— “ Near where the Cart rins wimpling clear, Doon through a woody howe, Stan’s Crookston Castle lane and drear, High on a grassy knowe. ’Twas here a bonnie yew tree stood, Ance growing fresh and green. And where Lord Darnley sat an’ woo’d Young Mary, Scotia’s Queen. No more the merry maidens laugh, Within those roofless halls; No more the gay young lovers daff Around those mouldering walls. Still all around is fresh and fair, With beauties o’ the Spring, Soft balmy breezes fill the air With fragrance sweet they bring.” POLLOK AND CEOOKSTON CASTLE. 79

We now set out to explore the old castle, and climbing up the dark, narrow, decayed staircase, find ourselves in a little square room at the top of the tower, which is barely able to accommodate to-day our large party, by whom “ Scots wha hae ” is sung cheerily. This is the only tower that has retained its original height, and its preservation has been owing to the care of Sir John Maxwell, but for whose attention it must ere now have been levelled with the dust. A considerable portion of the walls have already crumbled under the influence of the elements.- This highly interesting and romantic spot derives its chief romance from its connection with the unfortunate Mary, Queen of Scots. Here, tradition asserts, she was wooed and won by the handsome though ill-fated Darnley—this being one of the seats of the foolish young lord. Descending again to terra firma, we find some of the party engaged in tripping the light fantastic toe. Before starting, votes of thanks were given to the guides and Mr. M'Kenzie, and a pleasant walk of half an hour or so brought us to Cardonald Station, and we reached Glasgow before nine o’clock, all delighted with the arrangements made for the day, and all carrying home pleasant memories of one of the loveliest spots associated with the story of the ill- fated queen. 80 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

Ramble IV.—21st May, 1887.

Kleukillocb, Kleniffer Braes, and

Tannabill’s Well,

Guides, Messrs. Bryson and Mitchell.

, HIS is the fourth ramble of the session, the distinct is rich in song, and the route new to most of our associates. Leaving St. Enoch’s Station at 2.45 p.m., we are soon passing Pollokshaws, and the policies of Sir John Maxwell (the scene of our last Ramble), getting a view of “ Crookston’s ruined wa’s” in the distance, but seeing now no majestic banner floating proudly on its ramparts. Arriving at Barrhead, and placing ourselves under the escort of our worthy guides, we are at once conducted to the Fereneze Braes, and after a stiff climb up the hill, are rewarded by the expansive view stretching out before us, and the series of delightful prospects which we command. At our feet lie Barrhead and Neilston, and the reservoirs of the Gorbals Water Works; while opposite rises that detached hill — the Craig of GLENKILLOCH AND GLENIFFER BRAES. 81

Carnock—so much resembling Arthur’s Seat, and at some points a “ lion couchant,” while to the right again is that tableland hill, Neils ton Pad. Looking northward, we see our own city enveloped in an atmosphere of smoke, and the Campsie Fells in the distance, capped with snow to-day, fill in the background. But the day is cold, and the sky cloudy and ominous looking, with a strong, chilly breeze blowing that forbids our dwelling too long upon the scenery around. So we proceed along the face of the braes, and descend at the opening of Killooh Glen, which is described on our programme as a romantic defile, with three miniature waterfalls, much resembling the famous Falls of Clyde— Bonniton, Cora Linn, and Stonebyres. Walking upwards along a footpath on one side of the ravine, a good view is obtained of the several falls, through the trees that adorn this fairy glen. But to-day these are shorn of their best attractions, for there is hardly any water in the Killoch burn, or it has been diverted for trade purposes; and the bed of the river is left bare and dry. On reaching the upper extremity of the glen, we wade across the burn—a feat easy of accomplishment to-day, and are met by the policeman who warns us if we value our lives not to proceed any further in that direction, as we might come within range of the shooting, which is being practised by the volunteers over the hill—the 82 SYLVAN RAMBLERS. thud of the bullets being distinctly heard. Thanking our friend in blue, we ascend the braes again to the highest point—Duchal Law, 760 feet above sea level —where we obtain another beautifully varied and extensive view. To the north, immediately in front, below [us, lies Paisley, with Johnstone and Howood a little to the west, beyond the valley of the Clyde, and Kilpatrick range of hills; while in the distance, towering over all, rise the lofty peaks of the several Bens, amongst which Ben Lomond is easily distinguishable. We have to record here quite a chapter of accidents. The first one happening to one of the friends with us for the first time, who, while attempting to get over a dyke, on the top of which was a fence, missed his footing, and fell heavily on his breast on the top of an iron post. At the time we were afraid his injuries had been very serious, but happily he was able to proceed on the ramble. The second accident befel our guide, Mr. Bryson, who on attempting a similar feat, got entangled in the wires, and fell backward, luckily, however, without sustain- ing much serious injury; so that the pleasure we had anticipated in the scramble over and down the braes to the glen was somewhat marred by these disasters. Arrived at Tannahill’s Well, we call a halt, and partake of our refreshment, in the shape of the sandwich with which each is provided, washed down by a draught from the cooling spring. Having GLENKILLOCH AND GLENIFFER BRAES. 83 taken our ease for a short time, we proceed to the glen, that dark ravine from which the braes derive its name, and which has been formed artificially into an amphitheatre, with tiers of seats cut out of the sod, and rising above each other, for the benefit of the Tannahill Choristers who occupy this place, and sing here annually on the anniversary of the poet’s birthday. A rustic platform, with chair and music stand, has been erected for the conductor, in which, just now, our president takes his seat, while we transact the usual business. A very pleasant and enjoyable stroll is afterwards taken through the beautiful grounds of William Fulton, Esq. (whose kind permission had given us this privilege). Passing the front of the mansion house, and through the midst of Glenfield Works adjoining, we are brought on to the main highway, between Paisley and Barrhead, and Paisley is reached after a smart walk at about seven o’clock. An adjournment is made to a restaurant at the Cross, where an excellent tea is procured; after which a visit is paid to the museum in the High Street (the gift of Sir Peter Coats to the town); also to the Tannahill Monument, opposite the new Clark Halls, and then the Abbey. The Bamble altogether was a very enjoyable one, and the arrangements made by the guides were of a highly satisfactory description. 84 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

Ramble V.—J+th June, 1887.

(Mindale Law aijd Peeseweep lm> Guides. - Messrs. Fleming and John Miller.

E were accompanied on this occasion by the Water o’ Leven Ramblers—a deputation from this club arriving at Queen Street Station about two o’clock, where they were received by a few of our members, and at once escorted to St. Enoch’s Station, and introduced to those who awaited them. The weather, unfortunately, was not what might have been desired for this ramble. Leaving St. Enoch’s Station at 2.45 p.m. (which was very busy on account of the Tannahill concert in the glen), we were soon on our way to Neilston, which was reached about 3.30. The route now taken was similar in every respect to the first ramble in 1885. Proceeding along the Irvine road to Shilford Toll, and turning aside on the road to the right, we ascend the Fereneze Braes, where we soon attain a considerable elevation, and turning, look down upon Loch Libo. A thick Scotch mist has now settled down on all arouud us, and as it is evident nothing could be possibly seen from the summit of Cork indale Law CORKINDALE LAW AND PEESEWEEP INN. 85 to-day, we omit that part of our programme, and proceed directly onwards to the Peeseweep Inn. Pursuing our way along the moorland road, we arrive at the lonely little hostelry on the moor before six o’clock. There ample provision has been made for our coming. Mrs. Muir is already waiting, and so is our tea, with the usual unlimited supply of the guidwife’s scones and pancakes, butter and cheese, of which we soon regale ourselves, the supply becoming a dissolving view. The after programme was very spicy and spirited ; the musical part being ably sustained by members of both clubs. A poem was also read by Mr. Young, of the Leven Club, by Mr. J. Gilkison, commemora- tive of to-day’s meeting of the two clubs, and which appeared in the Evening Times of same date:— “ The sun is up, the day is fair, Oor wark is dune, then a’ thegither, Hurrah for the road oot owre the muir! Hurrah for the peeseweeps and the heather! A fig for every worldling’s prize: A fig for kings and a’ their favours; ‘I to the hills will lift mine eyes,’ And feel a thrill beyond sic havers. Man, are ye fond o’ kittle lore? Owre printed words ne’er sit and glimmer; But come wi’ us and scan the store Spread open in the book o’ summer. There world-auld secrets ye will find—■ The words o’ life, and love, and duty; And sae sweet for heart and mind, And pictures drawn in truth and beauty. 86 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

Then hearken to the burnie’s din, That fills the glen wi’ music ringing; And water dancing owre the linn, In sweet accord wi’ blackies singing. While through the trees down yonder glade, The south wind sighs, like lovers’ story; And listening foxgloves in the shade Shake out their bells in crimson glory. Sae ilka day when hearts are sair, We’ll lift oor hazel sticks sae sturdy, And tak’ the road oot owre the muir, And lea’ behin’ life’s hurdy-gurdy; And roam the hills and glens between, For lang Scotch miles till we be weary; Syne stop, and turn aboot at e’en, And dauner hame fu’ blithe and cheery.”

The usual toasts were proposed and responded to with enthusiasm; and then, concluding the business of the meeting, we set out on our homeward journey, bidding farewell to the hospitable premises of the Peeseweep, and its wild expanse of bleak and solitary moorland, and followed the straight, level road in the direction of Paisley. Then down hill, when we arrive at Macdonald’s “ bonnie wee well,” which he has immortalised, and refresh ourselves from its sparkling waters. The secretary here read the beautiful poem, and also an extract from the great rambler’s volume, after which “Ye banks and braes” was enthusiastically rendered. The view we ought to have obtained from this commanding spot was still shrouded in mist, it being only possible to see COEKINDALE LAW AND PEESEWEEP INN. 87 the castle of Stanley, encircled by the waters of the miniature loch. A rapid walk now brought us into Paisley, where a train was got, by which we reached Glasgow at 10 p.m. A hasty leave was taken of our Water o’ Leven friends, who had no time to spare; but every one expressed himself as highly satisfied with the day’s excursion and the arrangements made, despite the unsatisfactory nature of the weather; while all admitted the joint ramble a great success, and our brother Ramblers “jolly good fellows.” 88 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

Ramble VI.—18th June, 1887.

learns and Eaglesfcam.

Guides, - - Messrs. Dow and M‘Kexzie.

—o^o<

m^TINE Ramblers, with three of the Water o’ Leven ^ ^ Club, met at the Central Station at 2-45 p.m. and took tickets for Giffnock. The weather was propitious, “one of June’s brightest days,” though, in fact, too warm for the walk that lay before us. We were speedily brought to the little hamlet, which was our first stopping place, and which is rapidly increasing in villas and cottages, all dotted along the main road, and making it a favourite resort for our better class. A rush is made from the station across the bridge to the road to procure seats in the ’bus for the Mearns, as we feel it is too much of a task on this scorching hot day to walk it; but, alas, we are doomed to bitter disappointment .'—there is no ’bus in connection with this train, and there is no help for us—we must proceed on foot under the blaze of a broiling sun. The company is good, and the expectation is better, so we set out in good spirits to find MEARNS AND EAGLESHAM. 8» the superlative, enjoying the sparkling wit of the great Macbeth, which is evidently appreciated. Arrived at Newton Mearns, we hail with satisfaction the little inn there, and call a halt for a short time, enjoying a much-needed refreshment, with shelter from the heat, our worthy president, Mr. Hill, having considerately provided for us some good things. Being now thoroughly invigorated for the remainder of our journey, we proceed on our walk to Eaglesham, passing Mearns Castle on the left, of which we get a fine view. When fully half way on the road, we are met by our worthy host, Mr. Dow, accompanied by our old friend, Mr. Andrew Brown, who have driven to meet us in a machine. After a hearty hand-shaking all round, some of the more fatigued amongst us take their places in the trap, and are speedily set down at our host’s residence— the remainder following in due time. Eaglesham is reached about 6 p.m., and being conducted by Mr. Dow into his house, we sit down to a very excellent tea, which, by our host’s kindness and forethought, has been so graciously provided for us. After this delicious and delightful repast, one which refreshed body and heart, we resolve ourselves into a conversazione of sentiment and song—doing full justice, or earnestly striving to do so, to the generosity of our host, who has evidently been at some considerable expense and trouble to provide for G -** 90 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

us such an entertainment. When this was all over Mr. Brown photographed the company. I have refrained from giving a description of the village of Eaglesham, or of the sights and places of interest in the vicinity, which have been so graphically described by the facile pen of my predecessor. Time, too, would not permit of our visiting these, as it was quite 8 p.m. when our entertainment closed, and we had scarcely sufficient time to walk to Thornton Hall. So, after again thanking our host and family, and bidding them good-bye, we set out on the homewa.d journey. Soon Glasgow was reached, and the ramble was a most enjoyable one. CALDEUWOOD GLEN AND KILBRIDE. 91

Ramble VIII.—20th August, 1887.

Salderwood and Kilbride. Guides. Messrs. Gibe and Fletcher.

HE Ramblers to-day travelled to Low Blantyre. Our destination was reached in “ less than no time ” by the iron horse; and then we started on our walk along the turnpike road, through this straggling village, past Stonefield to High Blantyre. We were here joined by Mr. Fletcher, who had gone on with an earlier train to see the grieve of the estate, and, if possible, try to overcome the objections which accompanied his refusal to our application for admission to the glen. Fortunately, or unfortunately, he was unable to see this autocrat, so we determined to go on and run the risk of being turned back. From this point the road becomes more sylvan in its character, being lined on both sides with a fine avenue of trees for a mile or two until the stone bridge over the Rotten Calder is reached. As we stand a moment wondering why this disagreeable adjective should be added to the name of so beautiful a stream, we are told by one who has evidently “ read up,” that there being no less than five streams in Scotland 92 SYLVAN RAMBLERS. bearing this name—Calder—and that this one, into whose waters we are now looking, is marked in its course by several cascades, wild and romantic. The view of Crossbasket House from the bridge is very line, it being of gothic architecture, with embrasured wallheads, and is the residence of one of the Messrs. Clarks, the well-known Paisley thread firm. Across the bridge to the left is the entrance gateway to Calderwood Castle ; but, before turning in, a conclave is held, and it is decided that we divide ourselves into two parties of six each, accompanied by a guide —the first contingent being led by Mr. Gibb. The second contingent left about ten minutes later, not without much fear and trembling, lest we might meet with some person who would compel us to return the way we came. Our fears were, however, groundless. Proceeding along the main avenue for a short distance we struck a footpath to the left, down to the glen, where we crossed to the other side of the stream by a neat little rustic wooden bridge which spans the river, and continued our way up the glen till we arrived opposite the castle, where we all met together again. Leaving the glen, and climbing the hill, we are brought in front of Craigneath Castle, with its look-out turrets, not unlike sentry boxes, guarding the front. It is diminutive in size for a castle, but is by no means a ruin, and, as we afterwards learned, is occupied by some of the servants on CALDERWOOD GLEN AND KILBRIDE. 93 the estate. It was probably built about the same time as the big house over the water. Resting for a few minutes on a seat which faces the mansion house, a magnificent view is obtained up the glen for a considerable distance; our elevated position commanding one of the loveliest and most enchanting bits of scenery that we have witnessed. Retracing our steps again to the top of the glen, we pursue our way further up, re-crossing the river in front of the waterfall, and arriving at a little circular heather summer house, in which we get seated, and which seems to have been made just to accommodate our number, and no more. But we were soon on the move again, for there is much to accomplish in the way of exploration, and we are, as yet, scarcely half road through the glen. So we continue going further up till we reach the Fairy Well, or Wishing Well, as it is called, and drink of its pure and cooling waters. The inscription on the tablet overhead is as follows :—

“ If thy spirit is pure as this crystal spring, Stranger, drink its waters and carelessly fling The tiny cup in the bright fairy well; Its magic for thee has no fatal spell, But enchantment falls on all around; Above—below—’tis hallowed ground, And truth lies hid in this mystic well, With power each secret thought to tell. Then pause—stranger, pause—for if evil dwell In thy heart, dare not quaff the Fairy Well." 94 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

Just below the Fairy Well, and in the middle of the stream, on an island, is the Hermitage, or Hermit’s Hut, a little circular stone, thatch-covered house, about six feet by four, with six small eyelets or windows, and a door facing to and approached by a bridge, at one end of which is said to be the Hermit’s grave, over which a stone is laid, with the following inscription cut on it:— “ The pangs of life—of death itself are o’er, The Hermit’s weary heart shall throb no more. He in this ruin found a home—a tomb— Here, where decay is robed in richest bloom Of earth—-where Heaven’s soft yet radiant beam Still sheds young beauty on old Calder’s stream. Yes! here a chastened child of sorrow heard And felt the comfort of God’s Holy Word. Reader! a few short hours—a few more throes Of human grief—thy fleeting days shall close. At that dread moment may the Light Divine Which,blest the dying Hermit be thine.” Sept. 26th, 1722.“ Here we were obliged to terminate our further journey up the glen, much as we wished to linger awhile longer amidst such charming scenery. But we are already due at East Kilbride. So, reserving the rest for a future visit, we made our exit from the grounds on to the public road, and regaling ourselves with a drink of milk at an adjacent farm, we set out

Of course, the story of the Hermit is a myth. The stone is said to have been at one time on the top of the hill, and afterwards placed in its present position. CALDERWOOD GLEN AND KILBRIDE. 95 for the village, where we found everything prepared for us at the Cross Road Inn. After ample justice had been done to the very substantial tea, the usual business disposed of, toasts given and answered, we enjoyed songs, recitations, and stories. Among the latter was one that impressed itself very deeply in our memory, from its connection with the scenes we had that day witnessed. One of the late baronets was of a very eccentric disposition, if not wanting a slate on his garret. In one of his daft moments he had given instructions to a builder to erect a tower on his grounds, from the top of which he would be able to see Edinburgh (a veritable Tower of Babel). The work was proceeded with, and had attained considerable height, when the laird happened to be passing the structure one day with no remembrance of what he had formerly ordered. He asked the builder what he was doing ? He was promptly informed that he was erecting a tower high enough to see the Scottish capital. “For God’s sake, clap the roof on at once,” said Sir William, which was immediately done, and it was thus left in its present form. Having spent two hours in a most enjoyable way, we are reluctantly obliged to turn our thoughts and faces homewards. A short railway ride from East Kilbride, and sometime inside elders’ hours we find our feet again on the plain stanes o’ Glasgow, all highly delighted with our afternoon ramble. 96 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

Ramble IX.—27th August, 1887.

Iberfoyle and Loch Ard, Guide, - Messrs. Bryson and Robertson. •o$*o**

MDDITIONAL interest was attached to this ramble, although the names suggested much, as it was one to which the ladies were invited. Our guides had fortunately secured for us reserved carriages, which kept us together, and added greatly to our joy and comfort. The morning was fair, although the sky was slightly overcast, but it eventually turned out a very fine day. The station was left at 10-35 a.m. ; and on the lofty building to the east side of the tunnel might be seen a red flag waving, hung out in honour of the Ramblers’ holiday by an enthusiastic member. Lenzie, Kirkintilloch, and Campsie are passed by in rapid succession, and the scenery along the Blane Valley duly admired as we swiftly speed away. Jokes and generous banter were freely circulated, and served the purpose of passing the time pleasantly and rendering the journey less tedious. And, mean- time, the sun broke out in all its splendour, and set our minds to rest as to the weather. ABERFOYLE AND LOCH ARD. 97

Aberfoyle is reached about 12-30, and we immediately proceed to the tree opposite the Bailie Nicol Jarvie Inn to inspect the veritable “poker” which now hangs chained from the branches, and which proved so formidable a weapon in the hands of the Bailie against the English soldiery. The “ poker,” which is the coulter of a plough, is painted red at the end, and gives it the appearance desired. The inn opposite is now a more comfortable establishment than that described by Scott as Jean MacAlpine’s house. In fact, the site of the celebrated Clachan Inn is about a mile to the westward. The railway has opened up communication to this little Highland hamlet, of which thousands now take advantage to the few who formerly visited here. Several handsome villas have also of late been erected, dotted along the main road at the foot of the hill, and are already giving the place an air of importance. The slate quarries up on the hill give employment to a considerable number of men, and everywhere the signs of thrift are visible. Altogether, it is a region of glens and mountains, of rivers and cascades and lochs, of oak and birch woods. Aberfoyle is for ever associated with the genius of Scott, with “The Lady of the Lake,” “ Waverley,” and “ Bob Boy.” The last describes its little vale, its beautiful river, its bare yet romantic ledges of rock that hedge the landscape in on either side, and form 98 SYLVAN RAMBLERS. a magnificent background; while far to the eastward a glance is caught of the Lake of Menteith and of Stirling Castle, dimly descried, along with the blue and distant line of the Ochils. We took the road to Loch Ard, which is about two and a half miles distant. Before going this length, it was deemed prudent to make a halt by the side of the river Laggan, which runs into the Lake of Menteith, and forms one of the head streams of the Forth. The Laggan is formed by thejunction of the Avendhu and the Duchray Water, about a mile west of Aberfoyle; the Avendhu having a course of nine miles and traversing through Loch Chon and Loch Ard, while the Duchray Water takes its rise about the base of Loch Lomond. The walk through the Pass to Loch Ard was a most enjoyable one to all, with the exception of the unfortunates who undertook the carriage of the boxes and hampers; but perhaps the thanks of the fortunates were a sufficent recompense for the extra services of nerves and muscles. Leaving our head-cook, Mr. M'Kenzie, and a few of the ladies to look after the tea-making and other preparations for the pic-nic, a part of us took a walk of a mile or so further up the loch, while Mr. Dow and a few ladies preferred going by a boat which was hired for the purpose. ABERFOYLE AND LOCH ARD. 9!)

Upper Loch Ard is two and a quarter miles from west to east; the so-called Lower Loch, half a mile to the eastward, is less a loch than a mere expansion of the Avendhu. The shores are intricate and finely wooded ; and in the westward background is ever the soaring mass of Ben Lomond. The loch, in which good fishing is to be got of trout and pike, belongs to the Duke of Montrose. Scott has im- mortalized this place as the scene of the defeat by the Highlanders of the King’s soldiers, under Captain Thornton, decoyed by the Dougal Cratur into the defile. The whole scene is best described by him in “ Rob Roy”—“ On the right, amid a profusion of thickets, knolls, and crags, lay the bed of a broad mountain lake. High hills, rocks, and banks waving with Nature’s forests of birch and oak, formed the borders of this enchanting scene of water, and as their leaves rustled to the wind, and trembled in the sun, gave to the depth of solitude a sort of life and vivacity. The road now suddenly emerged, and winding close by the northern margin of the lake, afforded a full view of its spacious mirror, which reflected in still magnificence the high, dark, heathy mountains, huge grey rocks and shaggy banks, by which it is encircled.” Returning to our encampment the company sat down to an excellent tea. This welcome repast over, dancing was indulged in to the strains of Mr. John 100 SYLVAN KAMBLK :!S.

Millar’s flute, accompanied by Mr. Bryson, who beat time on an empty tin box! As an adieu, “ Scots wha hae ” was sung, being joined in by the whole company; after which, we leisurely took our way back to Aberfoyle, and reached Glasgow by 9 p.m., all highly gratified by the day’s excursion, and all feeling greatly indebted to the guides, Messrs. Bryson and B,obertson, who, for a very moderate cost, supplied the many good things needed for our entertainment. CAHDROSS AND KILMAHEW GLEN. 101

Ramble X—10th September, 1887.

Kardross and Kilmahew Slsn.

Guides—Messrs. Hn.L and James Miller.

ft Joint Ramble of the Sylvan and the Water J o’ Leven Ramblers was the occasion that called us out to-day. The weather, upon which much of the comfort and enjoyment of the Ramblers depends, was, unfortunately, not what could be desired—the day being dull and showery. Never- theless, when we make up our minds to enjoy ourselves, the weather becomes a secondary consideration. It will be remembered that this was the second occasion of the meeting of the two clubs—the Leven club being our guests at the ramble to the Peeseweep Inn earlier in the season. On the arrival of the train at Renton Station, we are met by our Water o’ Leven brethren; and after a hearty hand-shaking all round, and interchange of fraternal greetings, the two associations proceed, under the direction of Mr. James Young, the local secretary, to the “ Bull,” the first house of public 102 SYLVAN RAMBLERS. interest in the locality to be visited. Here a welcome refreshment was provided for us by our entertainers; after which, we set out to view the other places of interest in the village. Passing the Public School, there is here erected in front a monument to Tobias Smollett, the first great Scottish novelist and poet, the historian of “ Roderick Random,” and the author of other works popular in their day. Smollett was born within a short distance of this place in 1721, the foundations of the birthplace house being only recently discovered in the excavations made for sand. Entering the Victoria Institute and Public Hall we see a building newly erected, and only opened on Jubilee day to the public. It is neat and tasteful, replete in the means afforded for the amusement and instruction of the inhabitants — having a billiard room, games of chess, draughts and dominoes, together with a spacious reading room, supplied with all the litera- ture of the day. We were here joined by the rest of the Leven brethren, about tw'enty in all. A start was then made on our walk over Carmen Hill, a pretty stiff climb for a short distance, and for some time under a steady downpour of rain. During a dry blink, we had a beautiful panoramic view of the Leven Valley and the Clyde. We first take in Renton, so named after an early Mrs. Smollett, of Blackadder, Mid- CARDROSS AXD KILMAIIEW GLEX. 103

Lothian; to the north is Bonhill, Jamestown, and Alexandria, the latter named after Alexander Smollett—all places of modern origin; to the south—Dunbarton, anciently Dun-Briton, or Fort of the Britons, with its castle rock standing like a grim sentinel keeping guard on the estuary of the Clyde. Pushing our way across Carmen Muir, a short distance now brings us to the highway; and, as the road is all down-hill, we are not long in arriving at Kilmahew Glen, where we find the gardener, grieve, or keeper, waiting for us, and under whose guidance we now proceed. The beauties of this sequestered sylvan retreat I cannot and will not attempt to describe. Suffice it to say it was a most lovely and romantic spot. For nearly two hours we wandered through its woods and its well- kept avenues, visiting the old castle, now pretty much modernized with the addition of gothic windows and baronial turrets, and also the new castle, the handsome residence of our townsman, J. M. Burns, Esq. There was also pointed out to us a trap dyke, which can be traced for a considerable distance, and would hare interested our geological friends, who were unfortunately absent to-day; and down the road might have been seen exposures of laminated red sandstone, showing the bank of the estuary or inland sea at a very recent date. 104 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

On arriving at the lawn tennis court we take our places to be photographed, and are marshalled in order by our friend, Mr. Brown, and not a moment too soon either, for another deluge of rain poured down on us, compelling us to rise, and rendering it impossible to take another sitting, much as it was desired. Our faces are now directed towards Card- ross shore, and a vision of a cup of hot tea rises up before our imagination, and a feed of whelks, cockles, and mussels quickens our footsteps. But, alas! for the latter—the tide is in to the full, they are truly “ alive, oh ! ” in their watery element. The difficulties attendant upon getting that tea ready are not be described. The rain pours down in torrents, and a gale is blowing. There is no hope of doing an al fresco pic-nic on the shore to-day. So it is at once resolved, that we remove ourselves, to the shelter of the inn. Once inside, our drooping spirits revive under the influence of a fragrant cup of hot tea. A capital programme is then carried out, and the hope is expressed that joint rambles may be made an important feature in next season’s excursions. After singing “Auld Lang Syne,” a move is made for the station, and we are soon safely en route for home, our Leven brethren accompanying us to Dumbarton. Thus ends a most enjoyable gathering, in which old friendships are renewed and new ones formed, to be continued, we trust, for many years to come. HAMILTON AND BOTHWKLL. 105

Ramble XI.—24th Sept, 1887.

••OQ-O—

Hamilton and Botbwell.

Guides, - - Messrs. Hart and Jordan.

•o^o**

fO-DAY the weather was most propitious, and in due time we reached Hamilton. A short walk, and we enter the Palace grounds by the south gate, and an agreeable stroll was taken through the policies, conducted by two of the servants appointed by the factor for this purpose. Passing through the courtyard of the stables, which are very deserted and desolate-like, we are brought in front of the Palace, round about which we make a tour of inspection. The latest additions were built in, and are dated 1828. Like the stables, the place is shut up, and a feeling of pity fills us that such a magnificent seat should have so little interest for its titled proprietor. Every apartment is still luxuriously furnished, though we were inclined to believe that the recent sale had stripped the Palace of much of its grandeur; but such, we were told, is not the case. h 106 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

The paintings and articles of vertu that were taken away and sold, having been replaced by others which had long been stored away, and thus there is no difference in the external appearance of the walls. The principal entrance and frontage has an imposing appearance, the architecture being comparatively modern in style; the columns in front of the portico are very massive, and, being in single stones, must have cost an enormous sum to put them in their present position. This immense building is said to be one of the finest structures in Great Britain.

We now direct our steps to the mausoleum—a magnificent tomb for the Dukes of Hamilton, and where repose the relics of a long line of the Hamilton family. Two gigantic lions lie couched upon the parapet, emblematic guardians of the ducal dead, one of which is represented as sleeping, and the other awake. It is jocularly remarked by some of our friends that they take turn about in watching ! HAMILTON AND BOTHWELL. 107

The entrance to the vaults consists of three archways, each surmounted hy a sculptured head, respectively representing “ Life,” “ Death,” and “ Immortality.” Passing along to the front, a broad flight of steps leads to the single doorway of the upper structure. This door is of bronze and of beautiful workmanship, panelled in relief, with six sculptured scenes, representing “The Queen of Sheba and Solomon,” “David and Goliath,” “Isaac blessing Jacob,” “Israel Cross- ing Jordan,” “Moses on Mount Sinai,” and “The Priests going around the Walls of Jericho.” We are not, however, permitted to enter the sacred precincts. But we are told that the Duke Alexander, the grandfather of the present duke (in whose lifetime the mausoleum was built) lies inside, encased in a splendid sarcophagus. One noticeable feature of the building is a remarkable echo and reverberation from the slightest sound. Leaving this gorgeous tomb, we make our way to the Nether Cross, the site of the old lower town of Hamilton, now long since razed to the ground, and commemorated by the old town Cross which marks the site. A lovely walk through the low parks brings us to the north gate, from which we make our exit on to the Bothwell Road and close to Bothwell Bridge, the scene of the famous battle of 1679 between the Royal forces, under the Duke of Monmouth, and the Covenanters, in which 108 SYLVAN RAMBLEKS. the latter were defeated. Crossing the memorable bridge, where “ Scotland's sons their blood hath shed, Four hundred numbered with the dead, And Clyde's fair stream was dyed blood-red, For Scotland’s glorious liberty,” we are soon passing through the village of Bothwell, and make our way to the old chapel of Bothwell and its “ God’s Acre.” This old structure, with its stone roof and ancient architecture, is reputed to be older than our Glasgow Cathedral. In the graveyard we find a remarkable tombstone erected to the memory of Robert Stobo, smith and farrier at Goukthrapple, having the following quaint epitaph, but the grammar would not be authorised by modern School Boards:— “ My sledge and hammer lies declin'd; My bellows' pipe has lost its wind; My forge’s extinct, my fire’s decay’d; And in the dust my vice is laid; My coal’s spent, my iron is gone; My nails is drove, my work is done,” We were. now conducted by our guides into the little inn adjoining, where we found prepared for us an excellent tea, for despite the pleasure derived from glorious scenery and lovely landscape, we are compelled to realize the fact that something more substantial is imperatively required. After transacting the usual business, we bid adieu to the little salubrious village, and in a few minutes are whirling to the great city. LINLITHGOW AND QUEENSFERRY. 109

Ramble XII.—6th October, 1887.

Linlithgow and Queensferry. Guides. Messrs. Adam and Cuerie.

HE last outing for the season took place on the Autumn Holiday. Queen Street Station presented an extraordinary crowded and busy appearance, not only on account of the regular holiday pilgrims, but because of the special excursion trains running to Musselburgh for the races, which opportunity for a cheap trip to the east coast was largely taken advantage of. With our large party—for, being “ ladies’ day,” we had an extra attendance—considerable difficulty was experienced in getting accommodation for all; but, after undergoing a stiff squeeze in the rush for places, we found ourselves pretty comfortably seated in adjoining compartments, and started away at 10.30. The morning was dull and ominous-looking, but hopes were entertained that the threatening clouds would break up and pass away, and ere we were far on the journey these hopes were realized; the sky became clear, and tokens of a good day were apparent. 110 SYLVAN RAMBLKKS.

Polmont was reached about 11.15, and here we had to undergo the annoyance of changing carriages, which could not be avoided. The delay, however, was not of long duration, and shortly afterwards wTe arrived at the ancient and royal town. No time is lost in finding our way to the “ Star and Garter,’1 which fortunately could not be situated nearer to the station than it now is. Here refreshments were instantly procured, and welcome they were, after the many fears and anxieties we had endured since leaving our native city. Leaving all superfluous luggage in the hotel, we proceed to view the town, with its places of historic interest and its famous wells. The antiquity of the town must run back very far, although we are informed that none of the houses in the burgh are older than the fifteenth century. It lies in a hollow, the lowest part of -which is occupied by Linlithgow Loch, which covers an area of 102 acres, and lies 150 feet above the level of the sea, the extreme length being three-quarters of a mile, and a quarter of a mile broad, its depth being from ten to fifteen feet deep. A quaint couplet says— “ Glasgow for bells, Linlithgow for wells, Falkirk for beans and pease.” Arrived at the palace, we place ourselves in the hands of an official guide and keeper, and are conducted through the several apartments. From LINLITHGOW AND QUEENSFERRY. Ill him, too, we are courteously given much interesting information as to its history. The buildings as they now stand form a square 168 feet from east to west, and 178 feet from north to south. In the centre of the court stands the remains of a line fountain erected by James V., about 1538. The exterior elevations of the buildings are dull and heavy-looking, but the fronts to the east are cheery and elegant. History informs us that before the

LINLITHGOW PALACE. accession of David I., in 1124, a chapel appears to have been erected on the promontory now occupied by the church and palace; and in 1298 Edward I. marched through the town on his way to fight the battle of Falkirk, and took up his winter quarters here, erecting a new castle, part of which remains at the north-east corner of the present palace. The whole structure is said, however, to be of later date than 1425, rebuilding having been going on during the reigns of James I. and II. 112 SYLVAN I!AMBLERS.

After inspecting the various halls, we are ushered into the most famous room in the palace—at the north-west end—the bedroom of James III., where his daughter, the beautiful but unfortunate Mary Queen of Scots was born on the 9th of December, 1542. Her father died on the 13th of the same month. His infant daughter succeeding to the throne, the place became, for the period during which the Queen Dowager and her child remained there, the centre of all the many political intrigues of the times. “ Of all the palaces so fair, Built for the royal dwelling, In Scotland, far beyond compare, Linlithgow is excelling.” We now make our way to the battlements and tops of the walls, and are advised to make a further ascent by mounting the spiral staircase to the little house on the top, known as Queen Margaret’s Bower, and which stands about eighty feet high. The magnificent view obtained from the top amply repays the labour of climbing the stairs, as a beautiful and distant panoramic scene lies stretched out at our feet. The turret was probably erected in the time of James IV., as alterations were made on the north side at that time. The tradition or legend regarding the bower is that Queen Margaret used to come up here and look out for the return of the king from the fatal field of Flodden. LINLITHGOW AND QUEENSFERRY. 113

We hurry back to the hotel, where the brakes are already awaiting us, and, taking our seats, are soon rattling along the country road, in the full enjoyment of the pure and bracing atmosphere and in the constantly changing views that are opening out before us. The drive is of the most charming description on this autumn day, the roads being thickly strewn with fallen leaves, while the variegated hues and colours of the foliage on the trees and hedgerows gives to Nature in its decay a loveliness that excites our deepest admiration. The most interesting and prettiest part of the drive is that through the Earl of Hopetoun’s policies, by whose kind permission we were thus favoured. The avenues are laid with tine old trees, that stand unrivalled for size and beauty. A most remarkable specimen is pointed out to us, and is called the “ Seven Sisters,” from the fact of its having seven distinct trunks. The grounds are of singular beauty, and the gardens cover an area of twelve acres, which are laid out after the manner of Versailles, and we obtain, in passing, a glimpse of the long, dark avenue of beeches. Arrived in front of Hopetoun House, we see a stately classical structure, the centre portion erected in 1702, from designs by Sir William Bruce, architect (the wings on either side being erected many years afterwards), surmounted by octagonal domed roof towers, and connected by circular collonades. The house 114 SYLVAN RAMBLERS. stands on a raised natural terrace, and commands a magnificent prospect up the basin of the Forth and down the estuary to the Isle of May. The road is now all down hill from the new gateway entrance which is presently being erected, and by which we leave the grounds, till we reach the royal burgh of Queensferry — receiving its name from Margaret, Queen of Malcolm Canmore, this being her route on excursions between Edinburgh and Dunfermline. Here we have a fine opportunity of seeing the Channel Fleet lying in the safe anchorage of St. Margaret’s Hope 3 and also that great wonder of engineering skill, the Forth Bridge. At the famous Hawes Inn we partake of the modest luncheon, quenching our thirst from liquids hot or cold, as taste prefers. Being now well forti- fied inwardly, we proceed at once to inspect Mr. (now Sir William) Arrol’s work, making enquiry at the offices for Mr. Biggart, one of the engineers, who immediately provides us with three guides, dividing our party into as many companies, each being separately conducted, and we start on our tour of inspection. It is worthy of remark that when permission was sought from Mr. Arrol it was promptly and kindly given, and the attention shown to our party by his servants, at his instructions, deserve our deepest thanks and highest appreciation of the favour conferred. LINLITHGOW AND QUEENSFERRY. 115

The pattern shop and model shed was the first place visited, which was interesting and instructive, showing various models of the bridge, patterns of the girders, and detailed drawings. Mr. Arrol’s patent rivetting machine was seen in operation, while the immense boring machines travelling on rails afforded an agreeable study.

The Forth Bridge. We proceeded to the end of the jetty, but observed that some of the more daring spirits had taken the overhead way, along the bridge itself, descending by ladders at this point. It would be impossible and alike unnecessary to give anything like an account of this marvel of engineering skill; a few facts will perhaps suffice. The total length of the bridge is S0S1 feet, or fully one mile and three-quarters. The 116 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

estimated cost or contract sum was £1,600,000, but is likely to exceed that. It has 24 spans in all, the two central spans or suspension part being 1710 feet long, or about one-third of a mile; two at 675 feet long, fifteen at 168 feet long, and five at 25 feet long. The caissons or iron cylinders, which are filled with concrete, and form the foundations of the granite piers, are 70 feet in diameter, and sunk to a depth of 40 feet below low water, and some of the piers are built almost 80 feet above high water. The line of rails stand 150 feet above high water level, and the highest part of the bridge at the girders is 360 feet above the same. The bridge has been in progress for the last few years, and it is expected that it will require three or four more to complete it. But time is on the wing, and we must hurry back to the Hawes Inn. Our scattered company are speedily rallied around the conveyance in waiting, and we are quickly being borne on our homeward journey. Although the shadows of the gloaming begin to gather around us, and the evening air becomes too chilly to be pleasant for driving; yet the company are, nevertheless, in the best of spirits, as is evident from the songs that are heard from one brake, and the mirth and jollity in the other. Five o’clock sees us in Linlithgow, and who shall portray the bliss of the benumbed travellers in again entering the warm dining-room of the “ Star and Garter,” now brilliantly LINLITHGOW AND QUEENSFEKRY. 117 lighted up, its extensive table groaning with the good things prepared for us, and to whicli no time is lost in doing justice. The repast was succeeded by the usual programme of business, speeches, toasts and songs. The most notable speech was by the president (Mr. Hill), who reviewed in a few graphic words the rambles of the season and their successful termination in this, which had brought us face to face with one of the world’s wonders, and to a piece of engineering of which every Scotchman should be proud. Two hours were thus spent in solid enjoyment, and then tracks were made for the station. Here, unfortunately, we were unable to get accommodation in the train by which we were timed to return, it being already overcrowded, and as it was the last train there seemed very little prospect of our getting away that evening. We forbear to rehearse all that was threatened the railway company by the gentlemen left thus in waiting; nor will I speak of the discomfort of the ladies, who, however, bore it all with their usual angelic quietness. Certainly it was a very miserable hour and a half, partly spent in a cheerless waiting room, and partly under chilling dews. However, our anxieties were finally brought to an end, and about midnight we are safely landed in Auld St. Mungo, forgetting then all the later miseries in the pleasant memories of the earlier hours. 118 SlfLVAN RAMBLEHS.

FOURTH SESSION. ••O^O*

Ramble I.—2nd April, 18S8.

Kilmarnock and Dnndonald fostle,

Guides—Messrs. Fleming and Riddell. •o^o«* rjjT'HE opening Ramble of the fourth session led ^ us to Kilmarnock and Dundonald Castle. As we steamed out of St. Enoch’s Station at 9 a.m., the morning was lovely, the sun shining out cheerily, giving the comfortable assurance that the weather prospects at least were propitious. On reaching Kilmarnock, we were met by Mr. James M‘Kie (since dead), the eminent collector of Burns’ relics, who placed his services for the day at our disposal, and showed us the sights of the town, rendered famous for its manufacture of bonnets, plaids, and shoon, and for its connection with the early career of Burns, several of his poems referring to matters connected with it or its neighbourhood, while here the first edition of his poems was published in 1786. Little did Burns, or any one, at that date, imagine that a hundred years later some one would be willing to pay £111 for the earliest printed copy of hip KILMARNOCK AND DUNDONALD CASTLE. 1 19 works. As a recent writer has said—“ The contrast between Burns begging £5 to keep out the bailiffs, and his admirers outbidding one another at Sotheby’s, is instructive.” At the Cross we halt a few moments to look at the statue of Sir James Shaw, a native of Riccarton, and who held the office of Lord Mayor of London in 1805. The statue is of white marble, and stands eight feet high on a pedestal of granite, and Sir James is represented in his official robes as Lord M^iyor. After refreshing ourselves at the Sun Hotel, the gentlemen, accompanied by Mr. M'Kie, then visited the Chamberlain’s Office, where an original manuscript book of Burns, recently purchased in London, is inspected. It contains the following poems :—“ Holy Fair’,’ “ Hallowe’en,” “ Address to the Deil,” “ Auld Farmer’s Address to his Mare,” “John Barleycorn,” “Scotch Drink,” “Man was Made to Mourn,” “ Twa Dogs,” Cottar’s Saturday E’en,” “ The Author’s Earnest Cry and Prayer,” “ Address to James Smith,” “ Winter: a Dinre.” “Epistle to Davie,” “The Death of Poor Mailie,” “Poor Mailie’s Elegy,” &c. The manuscript was sold by public auction and realized £250, although the committee were prepared to go the length of £400, for the possession of this treasure. The president (Mr. Alex. Bryson), thanking the chamber- 120 SYLVAN RAMBLERS,

lain for his kindness in granting us the favour of examining this, the latest addition to the many relics now to be seen at the monument, we take our leave and are met by the ladies outside, with whom we proceed to the Kay Park. This park sprung from a bequest by Mr. Alex. Kay, who is also founder of the Kay School. It comprises an area of forty-one acres, cost £12,000, and was opened in 1879. Burns’ Monument stands in the centre of the park, and is built of red sandstone, at a cost of over £1500, the style is Scotch baronial, two stories high, with a tower rising 80 feet The marble statute of the poet is in the portico, eight feet high, and costing £800. It is taken from the celebrated painting of Nasmyth’s, and executed by W. G. Stevenson. The memorial stone was laid by R. W. Cochrane-Patrick, of Woodside, on the 14th of September, 1879 There are three rooms in the interior of the monument on the ground floor, containing a number of interesting souvenirs of the poet and his times, original manu- scripts, a copy of the flrst (Kilmarnock) edition of his poems, Burns’ dram-glass, shoon made by Souter Johnnie, and others too numerous to detail here. From the top of the tower we have a fine view of the town and water of Kilmarnock ; at our feet the miniature lake and bathing pond, and Reformers’ Monument in the park ; Dean Castle, the seat of the Boyd family, and in the distance the Loudon Hills, KILMARNOCK AND DUNDONALD CASTLE. 121

now covered with snow. Retracing our steps back to the town, a visit is paid to the Wandering Stairs, which proved quite a curiosity. The brakes for the drive being now ready, we take our seats and are driven off amidst the cheers of the natives, and as the machines are gaily decorated with flags for the occasion, no small sensation is created among the peaceful citizens by the hurrahs of the Ramblers as we drive through the streets. Auld Killie is soon left behind, and we pass the residences of Cunninghame of Caprington, and Colonel Stuart of Fairlie, the Arran hills loom up before us with their snow - capped peaks, while the sun shining brightly overhead imparted some warmth, which was much required, and rendered the drive enjoyable. Arrived at Dundonald Castle, we alight and walk up the hill to inspect the old ruin. The castle stands on an eminence, adjacent to the village, and appears to have been erected in the twelfth century. It was the residence of several of the Stuart Princes, and the death-place of Robert II. in 1390. It is now a massive thick-walled two-storey ruin, built of whin, with free- stone corners, measuring 113 feet by 40, and retains on its west wall, in high relief, but much obliterated by time, the armorial bearings of the Stuarts. “ Scarce a sickly straggling flower Decks the rough castle’s rifted tower; Scarce the hardy primrose peeps From the dark dell’s entangled steeps.” I 122 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

It gives the title of Earl to the family of Cochrane. The castle and five roods of land adjoining is the last remaining property in Ayrshire of that family. From here we have a magnificent view of the frith, with Irvine and Troon and the Arran hills, w'hile in the distance also snow-capped Ben Lomond is clearly distinguishable. A little to the west of the castle lies Dundonald village, which is four and a half miles equi-distant between Troon and Irvine. It has a clean, tidy look about it, boasting a post office, Established and Free Church, and a school. On reaching Troon, we again alight to give an opportunity to feed and rest the horses, and we do not forget our own needed refreshment. The breeze from the sea has made us quite chilly, and the ladies are especially glad to get under shelter for a short time, and enjoy the warmth of a blazing fire. Half an hour is spent very agreeably here, and a walk is then taken along the sandy beach skirting the sea, looking towards which to-day is only dimly discernible Paddy’s Milestone (Ailsa Craig). The return drive is taken by Ayr road, but the sun has gone down, and a keen, piercing wind brings out all the available wraps which are possessed by the company, and renders us eager to anticipate the termination of our journey. This is accomplished in due course, but the dining-room of the Sun Hotel proves too small for so large a number, and it requires KILMARNOCK AND DUNDONALD CASTLE. 123 considerable manoeuvring to get all squeezed in; but our discomfort is soon forgotten in our attention to the viands set before us, to which we do ample justice. Song and sentiment follows for upwards of an hour. Amongst the toasts proposed is one in honour of our guest, Mr. M'Kie, who has favoured us with his company during the whole day, and to whom we are indebted for kindly services in showing us all that was interesting in the district. Mr. M'Kie in a graceful and suitable manner responded. The entertainment was rather hurriedly brought to a termination to enable our party to catch the train, and we all reached our homes in safety, having greatly enjoyed the first outing of the season. 124 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

Ramble II.—U+th April, 1S88. •0<>0»

Eaglesbam. Guides, - - - Messrs. Dow and Cukkie.

second Ramble of the session was taken to Eaglesham, this being our third visit to the same place as a club. Why this romantic little village should be so often and so highly favoured with the presence of the Ramblers is quite easily accounted for. And chiefly we are taking advantage of the kind invitation of one of our guides, Mr. Dow, to visit him at his country residence in that place, and partake of his genial hospitality; while to a few others amongst us the spot is rendered dear, and clustered around with many hallowed memories, pleasant associations, and delightful reminiscences, as the home of younger days. At the Hollows Bridge, over the White Cart Water, we are met by Mr Dow, with his bag and his “claes.” A halt is called, and the Ramblers are speedily found reclining on a grassy bank sloping down to the clear and limpid stream, and discussing with evident relish the grateful “ claes ” which had EAGLESHAM. 125 been brought to warm and comfort the internal (not external) parts of our bodily frame. Tammy’s “ claes ” will be forever remembered by his grateful brethren. A smart walk brings us to the foot of the “town.” Walking up on the north side we make our way to the top of the “ Moat ” overlooking the ruins of the old cotton mill, which was destroyed by fire many years ago, and which along with hand- loom weaving (now almost extinct) were once the staple industries of the place. Now, however, the bracing and healthy air are proving a strong attraction to many Glasgow families, and in the summer time there is a large influx of visitors. Within recent years a few elegant villas have sprung up to adorn either side of the village, amongst which are those of Mr. Paton’s, the Provost’s, and the new U.P. Manse on the Kilbride Road; and were once the railway so much talked of, and wished for by many, permitted to enter this now secluded domain, and feuing granted by the laird and superior, Mr. Allan Gilmour, jr., who has recently succeeded to the estate, there is no doubt that an enterprising and flourish- ing town may yet arise out of this beautifully situated little village, which has decreased in population of late. Through the kindness of Mr. William Gemmill, we were given permission to view several works of sculpture at his house. The subjects are :—“ Burns and Highland Mary,” “ Gipsy Group and Hying 126 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

Child,” “The Blin’ Fiddler,” “Hawkie,” “The Briggate Youth,” and “ Wull Hall, the Smith,” a native of Eaglesham, in the act of putting the stone, a man who is still living, though well advanced in years, and whose reputation for gigantic strength is not limited to his native place. The works of Mr. Gemmill’s skill and genius are all the more creditable, when we consider that he is a self-taught and self-made man, and was by trade a joiner. A very pleasant walk is taken up the hill, by the side of the Braemair planting, where a magnificent prospect is obtained for a considerable distance. Con- tinuing on our way, we have a look at the game- keeper’s house, and the hill kennels, where a collection of pointers are kept, and quite a number of ferrets. A few minutes bring us on to the South Road, and to the residence of our host, where we spent some time most delightfully in business, toasts, songs, and speeches—the company appreciating his thoughtful and generous hospitality. Three hearty cheers are given to our friend “ Tammy” as we drive off in ’bus and brake, the shadows of evening closing in quickly about us, that we can but dimly discern passing objects in the four miles drive down the hill. Clarkston is reached at 9 p.m., and a short run in the train lands us again at the Central Station, everyone evidently well pleased with their afternoon ramble. SPRINT,BURN AND CHRYSTON. 127

Ramble III.—28th April, 1888. -O^O-

Spriugkrn and Kbryston.

Guides-Messrs. Adam and Mitchell. .o<^o**

^^LTHOUGH the forenoon had been showery, and the aspect of the weather somewhat threatening, it had now cleared up, and the cheering rays of the sun breaking through the murky clouds gave promise of a good afternoon. We take car to Springburn, and walk over Bal- gray Brae, where some handsome villas have sprung up on both sides of the road within recent years, and from which a commanding view of a large tract of country is obtained to the westward, including Campsie Range, Lennox Yale, and Ben Lomond. At the foot of the hill we reach the Auchinairn road, and pursue our course due east, passing the Lumloch Farm and Robroyston House. The country here is well under cultivation, but there is a barrenness of woods and trees that presents itself very forcibly to the Ramblers, and which is possibly due to the close proximity of Tennant’s chemical works, the acids from the large chimney stalk having a blighting 128 SYLVAN RAMBLERS. and withering effect upon all vegetation for a considerable distance round about. At Wallace’s Well a short stay is made, as in this vicinity Sir William Wallace was betrayed and captured in 1305. The date is rudely carved out on the stone over the well, from whose clear, cold waters we drink a refreshing draught. Continuing on our way, we pass through Auchinloch, to the no small wonderment of the children who came forth to meet us, and of the few inhabitants, who subject us to a searching gaze of inquiry as to the motive that has brought us hither. Entering a farm steading here, we rest for a short time, and partake of the modest sandwich with which we are provided, and wash it down with a tumblerful of sweetmilk unadulterated. Chryston is reached shortly after six o’clock, and an adjournment made to the village hostelry, where our treasurer soon finds his hands full. We paid a visit to the village kirkyard, and to the grave and monument of Walter Watson, the poet. Here we were joined by the parish minister, the Rev. Mr. Davidson, who kindly pointed out to us the spot where the poet was buried, as there is no inscription on the stone at his resting-place. There are some interesting places in this locality that might have been visited had time permitted, and arrangements made. The grounds of Bedlay and Gartferry Houses would have been open to us by SPRINGBURN AND CHRYSTON. 129 previous application, the latter having a beautiful little glen, and the former being where the old Covenanter was held a prisoner in the kilns, and, as tradition states, was kept in life by a black hen that daily laid an egg for him. Here also Queen Mary is said to have slept—but where has she not been! Two miles distant, also, is the old tower of Badenheath, from which there is said to be a subterranean passage to Bedlay. But it is getting late, and we have a long road before us on the return journey. So bidding the minister good-bye, we leave Chryston, passing through Muirhead on to Stepps Road Station, where to our intense disappointment, we find there is no train for nearly two hours. To add to our discomfort, the wind has risen to a gale, and blows right in our teeth, but there is no alternative ; we must plod on, putting a stout heart and breast to a stiff breeze manfully. Our party now widely separated, each struggling along for himself. Footsore, tired, weary, and blinded with dust, we hail with joy the first glimpse of the lights of the great city as they appear in the distance, for to-day we have done the longest walk on record—nearly fifteen miles. Shortly after ten o’clock we reach the car terminus at Cumbernauld Road, and are soon landed at St. Vincent Place, where we separate, each to his own home and rest after the fatigue of his long ramble. 130 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

Ramble IV.—12th Hay, 1888.

East Kilbride and Torrance Klen.

Guides—Messrs. Robertson and Fletcher.

OURNEYING with the 3.3 p.m. train, Kilbride was soon reached. The weather was bright and warm, and in every way favourable for visiting this sylvan retreat. Entering the glen at about the same place we came out last year, the guides resolved on making a deviation from our programme, and, instead of following up Calderwood Glen to the north, to pursue our way southward through Torrance Glen, which we were told was even lovelier than the other. And to-day Nature looks very fair, although yet only in her morning robe, witli a bright, blue, cloud- less sky above; and, sheltered from the scorching rays of the summer sun, we wander along the banks of the Calder into the deep recesses of the glen, now covered with a carpet of bright green, variegated with clusters of yellow primroses and white anemones. Torrance Glen extends for about two miles immediately south of Calderwood Glen. The Rotten Burn, a tributary of the Calder, flows into it about the KAST KILBRIDK AND TORRANCE GLEN. 131 centre of the glen from the east, and here forms the the junction of three parishes—those of Kilbride, Glassford, and Blantyre. Crutherland House stands near the top of the glen on the left bank of the Calder going south, and is the residence of Mr. Clark. Torrance House, on the right bank, is occupied by the owner of the estate, Edward Stuart Harrington Stuart, Esq. The house in its oldest part dates from the fourteenth century, but has been added to at different times. We visited the graves of some of the members of the Harrington family, to whom monuments have been erected, enclosed within iron railing. One stone bears the inscription to Robert Harrington, youngest son of Sir John Stuart Harring- ton, Baronet of Ridlington, in the county of Rutland, died 15th May, 1864. Another records the decease of his wife, Charlotte, on 11th Eeby., 1867, who was the daughter of Andrew Stuart of Castlemilk and Torrance. Another is reared to the memory of Captain Alex. Stuart Harrington of the 2nd Royal Lancashire Militia, who died in Sept. 5th, 1878. And another records the death of Colonel James Davidson, on 2nd Feby., 1876. On reaching the main high road, we have a walk northward of about two-and-a-half miles to the village of East Kilbride, where we proceed to the Star Inn, and have a slight refreshment. We “caught our train,” and were landed in Glasgow at 9.30 p.m. 132 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

Ramble V.—26th May, 1888.

Bearsden, Tambowie, Sraigallion, and

Hiigdock, Guides, - - Messrs. Adam and Hill. •oC*o«*

^Jj^EAVING by the 2.30 p.m. train to Bearsden, we started from there, through New Kilpatrick, on our walk across Hungryhill, from which a fine prospect is had of the valley of the Clyde. It is a splendid day for walking, the sun shining brightly overhead. On our right to the east is Kilmardinny wood and house, and that clump of trees on the left is known as the “ Rooney,” and marks the site of the old Roman wall and camp. A delightful walk is taken along the Stockie-Muir Road, every turn of which our programme truly states alters the features of the landscape, and brings new beauties to our view. We have now to put a stout heart to a stye brae, and pass the mansion-house of Mains, nicely situated and surrounded with trees, the residence of Campbell Douglas, Esq. (architect and principal of the firm that designed the Glasgow International Exhibition). To the right Craigton House nestles BEARSDEN, TAMBOVVIE, AND MUGDOCK. 133 amid a magnificent foliage of stately trees, and soon we arrive at Tambowie well, and taste of the pure, cooling waters; and, as we are travelling on total abstinence principles to-day, we feel that this is a special providence in our way, and we go on refreshed and strengthened. Leaving the main road, we now strike ofl’ on a pathway to the right, and crossing over the Craigton Burn and the Allander Water, arrive at the lodge-gate to Craigallion House. Resting a few moments on the turf by the wayside, for the day is warm, our admiration is excited by the exceedingly beautiful appearance given to the fields which are covered in rich profusion with the wild hyacinths. Resuming our journey, we pass in front of Mugdock Castle, belonging to, and occupied by J. Guthrie-Smith, Esq., halting a little by the “Echo Stone,” from which no longer is heard the answering voice, the loss occasioned by the removal of certain walls in the vicinity of the house. Then we hasten on to the old village of Mugdock, now close at hand, and thrice welcome is the signboard of the village inn, which proclaims that a well-earned and much- needed refreshment for us tired travellers can now be obtained. Our simple repast over, we turn our attention to the usual business, which being soon disposed of, we descend the hill overlooking the Mugdock Reservoirs which furnish the water supply 134 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

to our great city. There are a few facts and figures, not generally known, concerning their size and sufficiency, which may not be out of place here. The present reservoir at Mugdock covers an area of sixty-two acres, is fifty feet deep, and holds twelve days’ supply at fifty million gallons a day. The new reservoir in process of construction at Craigmaddie, covers an area of eighty-seven acres, is also fifty feet deep, and holds eighteen days’ supply at fifty million gallons a day. The present aqueduct from Loch Katrine to Milngavie is 8 feet by 6 feet, and is egg- shaped. The new aqueduct is to be 12 feet by 8 feet, egg-shaped, and is estimated to give a supply of seventy million gallons, and in addition to the present aqueduct, the carrying power will be one hundred and twenty millions a day, when both are running, should that be required. At present there are four 36-inch main pipes from Mugdock to the city. Other two 36-inch mains are to be laid down, and the cost of the whole new work is estimated at <£1,250,000, which the Commissioners hope to be able to finish without any increase on the rates. A short walk now brings us into Milngavie, and to the railway station in time for the seven o’clock train, which lands us in Glasgow quite early enough to enable us to take a stroll through the Exhibition. CARMYLE. 135

Ramble VI.—2nd June, 1888. *o^o-

Sarmyle. Guides, - Messrs. Napier and John Miller. -o<0-o« tCCORDING to tlie syllabus, the Ramble this afternoon was to have been to Peeseweep Inn and Paisley, jointly with the Water o’ Leven and Townshill and Macdonald Clubs, leaving St. Enoch’s by 2.15 p.m. train. The weather was of .the most unfavourable description, rain having fallen heavily all day, and still steadily pouring down. Without hesitation it was at once decided by all present to abandon the Ramble, as the roads would be in a very bad condition. An adjournment was then made, and the question of how we should dispose of ourselves for the afternoon was talked over. The Exhibition being proposed, it was voted as likely to be too crowded and incon- venient for a large company. It was ultimately decided to go to Carmyle. So proceeding to the Central Station, we took a train at 5 p.m. Arrived at the village, and under a drizzling rain, no time was lost in seeking the nearest shelter, which happened to be “Jeems” Anderson’s well- known but unpretentious hostelry, where two hours were spent here very agreeably in crack and song. 136 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

Ramble VII.—22nd June, 1888. ••O^O*

Kilwinning and Eglinton Sastk Guides—Messrs. Fletcher and Black. •0^0*

jl'i^T was one of June’s brighest afternoons as we ^ left St. Enoch’s Station at 2.25. Paisley, Johnstone, Lochwinnoch, Kilbirnie, and Dairy are passed by in rapid succession, and in little less than an hour we are set down at our destination, Kil- winning. A short walk from the station and we arrive at the Eglinton Arms Hotel, where, after suitable refreshment, we arrange for a brake to convey us to the castle, two miles distant. This is soon in readiness, and we have a short but pleasant ride into the policies. In a spacious field we find a large excursion party of Sabbath-school children, teachers, parents, and friends, from Dreghorn, disporting themselves in merry games to their hearts’ content, with the full permission of the earl, who delights in throwing open his grounds for such parties at all times, even when the family are at home, as they are to-day. Amongst the first duties we have to perform is KILWINNING AND EGLINTON CASTLE. 137 that of being photographed in a group, and a suitable spot being found, we are speedily transferred on to the negative by our friend Mr. Taylor, who has kindly accompanied us to-day for this purpose. After two or three pictures have been taken, an adjournment is made for tea, prepared by one of the servants on the estate, the arrangements for which are ably superintended by Mrs. Fletcher; and in a sequestered nook, not far from the busy crowd, wre

EGLINTON CASTLE. indulge in a rural pic-nic. Thereafter we are taken a stroll through the beautiful grounds, guided by one of the gardeners. These cover an area of 1400 acres, while the gardens and conservatories cover some eleven additional acres. Eglinton Castle is a splendid edifice, dating from 1798, and is situated in the midst of a beautifully-kept and well-wooded domain, and presents a fine appearance, looking from the bridge across the Layton Water, K 138 SYLVAN RAMBLERS, which flows through the policies into the Garnock, and is embosomed in woods which surround it on every side for hundreds of acres. It is the ancestral seat of the Montgomerie family, and was the scene of the renowned tournament in 1839, when an attempt was made to revive the ancient sports of chivalry. Napoleon III., the Emperor of the French, and then an exile, took part in it, along with many other distinguished persons. We pause for a little, admiring its Long Drive, a beautiful avenue of one and a half miles, as straight as an arrow, the gate-house being distinctly seen at the end of it, and which is two miles from the castle. The gardens, conservatories, and vineries are next visited, and admired; after which we are taken to Lady Jane Montgomerie’s College, erected two hundred years ago for the poor women of Kilwinning, where she taught them to knit, sew, and spin. The old furniture remains in the same position to-day as it stood originally when she was living. Quite near the cottage is a white marble monument which bears the inscription “To the memory of his beloved son, Hugh, who died on the 13th of July, 1817, at the age of six years and a few months, a child of promise. On this spot, his little garden, this stone is erected by his afflicted and disconsolate grandfather, Hugh, Earl of Eglinton.” Returning to Kilwinning on foot, a visit is paid to KILWINNING AND EGLINTON CASTLE. 139 the old Parish Church, built in 1775, and which occupies a part of the site of the famous Abbey of Kilwinning, the chief feature of the town. It is also noted as being the birthplace of Freemasonry in Scotland, being introduced, it is supposed, by the medium of a foreign architect employed in the erection of the abbey ; and until the institution of the Grand Lodge in 1736, all other Lodges in Scotland received their charters from Mother Kilwinning, even down to 1807. When the disputes between the two lodges

KILWINNING & A B B E V. were adjusted, many charters were issued by the Mother Lodge. The abbey is seven centuries old, being founded in 1140 by Hugh de Morville. It was burned in 1561 (John Knox’s time), and is said to be the largest abbey in Scotland, and was built at an estimated cost of £1,100,000; the walls are from five to seven feet thick. All that now remains of the old abbey is the south gable of the ancient church’s transept, and one of HO SYLVAN RAMBLERS. its finely proportioned aisles, a Saxon gateway, and a few mouldering walls. The bell tower adjoining presents some fine features. It is of quite a recent date, 1816. Making the ascent of 144 steps to the top of the tower, a magnificent view is spread out before us. Eglinton Castle is seen engirt with low, luxuriant, well-wooded environs—Troon, Irvine, all along the sea-coast, with Goatfell towering up in the distance, and the lonely watcher of the deep— Ailsa—looming in the midst of the waters. Leaving the abbey we make our way straight to the railway station, where we part company with several of our friends who do not return to the city with us, living just now at the coast. A train is got shortly after nine o’clock, by which we reach Glasgow at 10.30, all in the best of spirits, and highly delighted with what was one of the most enjoyable rambles of the session. JOINT RAMBLE. 141

Ramble VIII. — J+th August, 1888.

croinsrT r_a.zm:biLjE OF THE

V^ater o’ Lfe^en and Glasgow Sylvan Ramblers.

Gltdes—Messrs. Gilkison, Allan, and Hart.

.-o-O’O..

^^EAYING with the 2.30 p.m. train, Carrnyle was reached in fifteen minutes, being over four miles from the city. The village stands on the right bank of the Clyde, and occupies a beautiful site amidst charming environs. It presents a straggling, rural appearance, with its old-fashioned meal mills and foaming dams. Walking along the avenue to the village, and passing the old school-house, now in a ruinous and dilapidated state, but still possessing many happy recollections of early days spent here by our friend Gilkison, we arrive at “ Jeems’s,” and from the halt made at the door by those in advance, it is evident that there is no intention of passing it. Entering, we make straight for the garden behind, and get seated in the rustic bower, where we admire the rich display of flowers and fruit grown by our 142 SYLVAN RAMBLKRS. host, and partake at the same time of a modest refreshment to help us on our way. Resuming our journey down hill to the banks of our noble river, where there are still to be seen a few keen disciples of Izaac Walton, on the banks and in midstream, whipping the water with such patience and endurance as to be worthy of a higher and nobler purpose. It is a lovely walk from here up the river on the north side, passing Kenmure Wood around the top of the hill. Artists have portrayed on the canvas many picturesque scenes obtained in this locality which are scarcely to be excelled, and Wordsworth sings— “ How fair appears the rural scene, For thou, O Clyde, has ever been Benificent as strong; Reared in refreshing dews to steep The little trembling flowers that peep Thy shelving rocks among.” At the foot of the hill we linger a short time at the Lovers’ or Marriage Well; then pursue our way further up the river until we reach Mr. M'Call’s house and grounds, where we find the passage barred, and no right-of-way without the proprietor’s permission. This our guides have unfortunately not obtained, and, as there seems small chance of getting it to-day (the family being at home), the walk intended up to Uddingston Bridge, crossing the river, and returning on the south side to Cambuslang, is necessarily abandoned. JOINT RAMBLE. 143

We reluctantly retrace our steps, passing through Keumure Wood along the river side, the footpath not being quite so passable as that on the hilltop, through the inroads which have been made upon it by the river in heavy spates, while trees that have been undermined lie stretched across the path, block- ing the way. Upon the trunk of one of these trees we rest for a while, and, judging from the names, initials, and dates cut on it, it must have lain there for a considerable time. One inscription we parti- cularly noticed, which recorded the death by drown- ing here of “Wingate and Robb, in 1884.” On leaving the wood we are met by an itinerant photographer, with whom we negotiate to take us on tin, by the wayside. Business does not seem to be very brisk with him at present, and he promises to do it “in no time,” and “while we wait.” The delay, however, is more than we anticipated—the rigging up of his dark room for his chemicals and glasses (said room being a large box, open at the end and supported on a tripod, with a cloth thrown over) being no very easy matter. The difficulty is at last surmounted, and we are placed in position, or buried in a ditch amongst a clump of trees with a bushy hedge for a background. The light is good ; each one tries to look his best, and poses in the most striking attitude while his handsome features are being fixed upon the camera. The group now 144 SYLVAN RAMBLERS. front the glass eye of the camera. “Steady, now.’ It is all over; the deed is done, and many are the expressions of opinion as to what sort of a job he will make of it. Alas, for our fondest hopes ! The picture is a sham and a failure. The faces are not ours, or so little ours that the mothers who bore us would not recognise their sons. We got off by paying three shillings sterling, and there is no extra charge for scenery. A gift is made of the production to our Leven brethren, to be preserved in their museum of curiosities! But we must now hurry on. Tea is waiting for us at “ Jeems ” Anderson’s, and a good, substantial tea it is too. The inner man being satisfied, toast and song is the order of the evening, varied by recitations. Then we divide, one half of our party proceeding to Glasgow from Carmyle, the other half walking on and taking the train from Cambuslang.

Ramble IX.—25th August, 1888.—Dalmellington. On account of the Queen’s visit to the city this week, it was agreed, at a business meeting, held on the 8th, to abandon this proposed ramble. It was arranged, however, to take one to Cathcart and the New Park on the 18th ; but when the day arrived, the members, after meeting at the Central Station, at three p.m., agreed to visit the Exhibition instead. INVERKIP GLEN AND GOUROCK. 145

Ramble X.—8th Sept., 1888.

.0^0-

Inverkip Slen and Sourock,

Gvides, - - - Messrs. Gntn and Miller.

••o^o»

^j^EAVING Bridge Street Station at 2.15 p.m., we arrived at Inverkip an hour later. The weather was delightful, and the walk we had before us promised to be a very enjoyable one. In the words of our own poet, who indites the few lines on our programme:— “ Then doon the brae we’ll merrily trip, And tumble into Inverkip— Wi’ ae hotel, but a’ maun ken We’ll open ane up in the glen.” Passing through the village we at once enter the glen. Here Nature is seen in all its wildest aspects, amidst overhanging trees, graceful feathery ferns, and beautiful little wild flowers growing profusely on the banks of the pretty little rivulet of the Kip, which runs through the deep hollow of the glen. Near to the top of the glen we rest for a little while to sample the refreshments which one of our guides H6 SYLVAN RAMBLERS. lias mysteriously stowed away, and pronounce the same to be all that can be desired. Resuming our journey, we are led on to a highway which brings us back again to the main road through the village, a little further north, now skirting Sir Michael Shaw Stewart’s estate on the left, with wild high rocks grotesquely wooded on the right. After passing the Ardgowan kennels we soon reach the sea-shore. The Forth of Clyde is at all times a lovely scene, and its beauties have been often extolled. It is so bright and clear with the hills standing out in sharp outline against the horizon. Our own poet again describes it:— “ Where looms in sight the distant Cowal hills, Whose towering peaks our breasts with rapture thrills ; While round their base we view the beauteous Clyde, With lovely villas meeting on its side.”

Our way now leads us along the shore, past the Cloch Lighthouse — one of the most important beacons on the Clyde, the tower rising to a height of 80 feet, and the view from which is superb and extensive. We halt here for a drink of milk, at a house that must at one time have sold stronger beverages. At the extreme end of Ashton (which is the terminus of the tramway line), we are assisted on our journey for a short distance into Gourock, and, proceeding at once to the Gamble Institute, satisfy the craving of the inner man with INVERKIP GLEN AND GOUROCK. 147 a cup of fragrant tea. Very little time is spent here, when we again take the road round the half-moon bay, along which the town curves to Kempoch Point. This bay has been always a favourite anchorage and rendezvous of yachts, and here all the crack cutters and schooners of the Royal Northern and Clyde Yacht Clubs are fitted out previous to the summer races. It was said also to be a lucky bay to sail from in days gone by, and ballast taken from the shore was thought to have some special virtue in itr and believed to enable a ship to brave the roughest storm without danger. But, alas ! the sea-beach will soon be a thing of the past. Railway enterprise has already invaded this favourite watering-place, and where were once gathered groups of happy children, the railway track is now in course of construction, and soon the iron horse will run at will where the billows used to roll. The shadows of evening are now closing in rapidly upon us as we speed on our way to Princes Pier and the railway station, past Fort Matilda, and along the new Esplanade. We are fortunate in getting a train, and are soon whirling citywards, all for the most part pretty well tired, yet nevertheless well pleased with the day’s outing. 148 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

Ramble XI.—22nd Sept., 1S88.

••o$o-

Helensburgh and Row,

Guides—Messrs. Napier and White.

.o^o«

took train from the underground platform at Queen Street, and were fortunate in securing a lovely afternoon for our outing. We observe in passing along that the farmer is busy in the fields with the ingathering of his crops, the golden grain being for the most part already cut and stookit, and that there is every prospect this year of a rich and bounteous harvest. On arriving at Helensburgh a regatta appears to be taking place, the promenade along the shore being much more thronged with people than usual. There are few towns of similar size that can boast of such rapid growth as the one now before us, and this success lias been attained without the slightest aid from manufacturing industries of any sort, there being no public works in the neighbourhood. The streets in this pretty watering-place are (unlike any other place on the coast) laid out with mathematical regu- HELENSBURGH AND ROW. 14& larity, and many of them (Parisian-like) are plentifully planted with trees, which must afford great pleasure to pedestrians in walking through the town. Helensburgh was founded about the beginning of the century by one of the Colquhouns of Luss, the lord of the barony, who named it after his lady, Helen; but it is only within the last 25 years that it has become of fashionable repute. The landscape beauties of Helensburgh attract and please the visitors, and the finely curving bay is protected on the one side by the hill of Ardmore, and on the other by Roseneath point. There seems to be an unusual amount of mirth and joking amongst the members to-day, and it was contagious—-everyone appearing to excel in humorous anecdote, peals of laughter bursting forth now and again as we proceeded along the shore road. We pass Cairndhu House, the residence of ex-Lord Provost Ure, and rest for a short time on that little strip of ground apportioned off to the public, and enclosed with rails and gates on the left-hand side of the road—the gift of a generous townsman, the late Mr. William Kidston of Ferniegair. As we are nearing Row we obtain on the right a view of Ardencaple Castle, the birth-place of the present Duke of Argyle; on the left side of the loch is Roseneath Castle, and in the middle of the loch the training-ship “ Cumberland,” the voices of the 150 SYLVAN RAMBLERS. boys on board being distinctly heard by us, in the midst of their games and amusements. A stiff climb up the hill to the Highlandman’s Road or Walk about takes our breath away, but we are amply repaid on arriving at the top by the fine view obtained of the Gareloch. Singularly beautiful are the shores of the Gareloch viewed from this point. The hillsides are finely wooded, and the little hamlets, seaside mansions, and handsome villa-like erections, picturesquely placed here and there, present a view rarely met with on the Clyde. On the return journey our intention was to visit the waterworks, but darkness was swiftly overtaking us, so we had to hurry onward, striking off the road into a moor, the crossing of which, had it been a little later, might have been attended with no little difficulty, and perhaps serious consequences. Helensburgh being, however, safely reached again, we begin to feel it absolutely necessary to assuage the pangs of hunger, and for this purpose are advised to the Working Men’s Club and Dining Rooms, where we are comfortably and satisfactorily served with a nice tea at a moderate charge, and afterwards by Mr. Gibb with a free service of fruit. Glasgow was reached by 10 p.m., the return journey occupying less than an hour. STIRLING AND DOUNE CASTLE. 151

Ramble XII.—Jtth October, 1888.

•0^0*

Stirling and Donne Kastle,

Guides-Messrs. Hill and Jordan*

•O^O*

njPHIS excursion, on the Glasgow Autumn Holiday, completed the Sylvan Ramblers’ programme for the session of 1888. The morning was not of the most auspicious kind, being cold, cloudy, wet, and generally cheerless; and, while it takes a great deal to damp the ardour of the Ramblers, there was certainly everything in the elements on this occasion calculated to put their native enthusiasm to the test. Notwithstanding the extreme unfavourable- ness of the weather, it was gratifying to meet at Buchanan Street Station a goodly party of thirty- two. Leaving Glasgow by the 9.15 a.m. express train, in which we were accommodated by the courtesy of the station-master with special compartments for ourselves, we were safely deposited in Stirling within an hour later. By this time the rain had ceased, and, although chilly, we had hopes that it would ultimately turn out a good day. 152 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

Making our way at once to “ The Sun,” to intimate our arrival, and receive some of its heat-giving powers, of which we stood greatly in need, we were ushered by the landlord (Mr. Walls) into a large, comfortable room, prepared for our reception, and having that which rendered it all the more welcome, and cheered the hearts of our lady friends above everything else—a bright, blazing fire. As soon as we were thoroughly refreshed, no time was lost in carrying out the details of our programme. So we set out at once to visit the castle, proceeding up King Street, and passing the church where Ebenezer Erskine, one of the founders of the Seces- sion Church, once held forth, we enter the cemetery, which for beauty of situation, and the manner in which it is laid out, is unequalled in the country. This being the second occasion on which the Ramblers have visited Stirling (the former being at the close of the first session, in October, 1883), there is no intention of prolonging our stay in this beautiful place; so we merely walk through it on our way to the castle, admiring the many handsome monuments that have been erected, and especially that to the Virgin Martyrs. Mounting the stairs, we make our way on to the esplanade or parade ground in front of the castle, where is seen a gigantic statue of King Robert Bruce, eleven feet high, and erected in 1877. The king is looking to the Field of STIRLING AND DOUNIi CASTLE. 153

Bannockburn, clad in mail, and appears sheathing his sword, as if the victory was won and Scotland free! Entering the principal gate of the castle, a rather hurried inspection is made of this hoary old pile, around which is woven so much of Scottish history. We cannot afford, with the limited time at our disposal, to employ the services of the guide in conducting us through the many apartments and courts, which would no doubt have been interesting.

STIRLING CASTLE but content ourselves with a view of the surrounding country from its different points. And no better view is to be had in Scotland than that which is commanded from the castle. To the north are the towns of Bridge of Allan and Dunblane, and the slopes of the Ochils; to the east the fertile carses of Stirling and Falkirk, with the Forth winding its silvery course to the sea, and beyond the distant hills of Fife and the Lothians; while to the south L 154 SYLVAN RAMELEES.

is the termination of the Lennox hills; and to the west are the flat valleys of the Upper Forth and Teith, their winding rivers and wooded policies, and shut in by the Campsie Fells and Braes of Donne, and away behind and beyond, sweeping round in a great semi circle of distant peaks, are our mighty Bens. Returning to “ The Sun,” we find our brakes in readiness for the drive to Doune, and getting seated, we leave Stirling. The road going is by way of the Bridge of Drip and Blair Drummond, the residence of the Earl of Moray, a beautiful road that is perfectly straight for miles, and even on this cold, autumnal day the drive is a very enjoyable one. As we enter Doune, we cross the river Teith, which is here spanned by a noble two-arched bridge, built by Robert Spittal, court tailor to Margaret, Queen of James IV., and who acquired a fortune. Spittal was a very benevolent man, and founded an hospital in Stirling for the relief of poor tradesmen ; although tradition does not give him credit for an act of pure generosity in building the Bridge of Teith. Formerly there was a ferry over the Teith at this place. On one occasion the tailor came to the ferry without money to pay the boatman, who refused to give him credit, and left him behind. To resent such an insult to the Queen’s tailor, the latter built the bridge, and punished the boatman by ruining his STIRLING AND DOUNE CASTLE. 155 business. Arrived at Doune, the brakes stop opposite the Doune Hotel, and, benumbed with cold after one and a half hours’ driving, we are glad of the opportunity here afforded to enter and warm ourselves outwardly and inwardly, for our limbs are nearly stiffened, and our teeth chattering; then we wend our way to the castle.

“ The lichened walls look grim and cold, That totter all around; The carved work of ages old Lies withering on the ground; The casement's antique tracery Has wasted.in the dew, And the night breeze, whistling mournfully, Creeps keen and coldly through.”

Doune itself is a small, clean-looking village, its two or three streets radiating from the old central Market Cross. At the south end of the village is the castle, a stately baronial stronghold, and standing on a peninsula formed by the river Teith and the Ardoch Burn. Early history is very silent regarding it. Roofless and ruinous, it is still a majestic pile, and is said to date from the eleventh century; but probably was either founded or enlarged by Murdoch Stewart, second Duke of Albany, and Governor of Scotland from 1419 to 1424. At his execution, on the Heading Hill of Stirling, it went to the Crown, and was given by James IY. to Margaret, his queen. In 1525, it passed to her third husband, 156 Si'LVAN RAMBLERS.

Henry Stewart, a lenial descendant of the first Duke of Albany, who granted the custody of it to his brother, Sir James, and his son and namesake, created Lord Doune in 1581, coming into full possession, transmitted the same to his posterity, the Earls of Moray. From time to time it has been used as a residence for royalty, (including of course, Queen Mary). It was garrisoned in 1745 for Prince Charles Edward, by a nephew of Rob Roy (Glengyle). The buildings form a large quadrangle, the halls and domestic departments occupying the entire front or north side, and about half the extent of the west side. The remainder is occupied by a strong wall, 38 feet high and 7 feet thick, enclosing an inner court about 105 feet square. There is little decora- tion about the castle, immense strength being the great aim of the builders. Its principal features are winding circular stairs and towers, large corridors and passages, and mysterious, dark, and gloomy vaults. Through the courtesy of Mr. Dunbar, the custodian, we are conducted through the various apartments. The first room we enter is the baron’s hall, or judgment hall, a large vaulted apartment, 43 feet long, 26 wide, and 23 high. Here the royal barons held their court, and the prisoners were pulled up from the cell underneath, through a square opening in the floor, and were tried and sentenced. This is the only room that has been restored as far as can be STIRLING AND DOUNE CASTLE. 157 ascertained to what it was when used as a court room, and for the assembling of the barons, centuries ago, the woodwork all being made from the old gallows tree, in the 14th century style. Within a panel on the wall are the armorial bearings of the Earls of Moray, with motto, and the inscription :— “Restored by George Philip Stuart, 13th Earl of Moray, 1883.” From the barons’ hall, we pass into the great banqueting hall, which is even larger than the other, being 67 feet long, 26 wide, and 43 to the top of the gable, having its hearth six feet in diameter, in the middle of the floor, enclosed by a fender, and where every soldier who owned a spear might have a place, and every man who followed the banner of his lord might find a seat at his table and partake of his hospitality. Leaving the great dining room we enter the kitchen, the principal feature of which is the fire-place, the largest, we are told, in Britain. The opening is 18 feet wide, and has a hewn arched centre over it, and also channels in the walls for dropping out the ashes into the river Teith. There is also pointed out to us the oven used by the Macgregors while holding the castle for Prince Charlie in 1745. Queen Mary’s room is next visited, and an ascent made to the battlements, by the great tower, 80 feet high, from which is obtained a most extensive and lovely view of the surrounding country. Descending again to the courtyard, we 158 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

inspect the old original windlass used for drawing water from the wells near the centre, and said to he 60 feet deep from the surface. The well, for which a search had been long made, was only discovered a few years ago, and has now been restored, and contains drinking water. Before leaving the castle, we are entertained by the kindness of Mrs. Dunbar with a cup of hot tea, which our ladies find very welcome. Returning to the hotel, no time is lost in taking our places again in the brakes for the homeward journey. Doune is left at 3.45, and the driving is rendered much more pleasant and agreeable by the cheering influence of the sun, which now shines out in all its splendour. The return route leads us through Dunblane, and that most fashionable of all the Scottish spas for invalids, the Bridge of Allan, passing around the base of the Wallace Monument. Stirling is reached shortly after five o’clock, and at “The Sun” a substantial touzie tea awaits us, and to which everyone is prepared to do complete justice. In the midst of our gastronomical operations, we are surprised by the entrance of two friends, who should have accompanied us, followed immediately thereafter by our fellow-ramblers, Mr. and Mrs. Hart, who presented rather a woe-begone and dejected appearance, having experienced a series of disasters since leaving Glasgow in the morning. First they were unable to catch the train by which we left; STIRLING AND DOUNE CASTLE. 159 then following with a later one, in the hope of joining us at Doune, they found to their dismay and chagrin that it did not stop there, and, much against their will, they were carried on to Perth. Here they were reluctantly compelled to wait in suspense for the most part of the day, and had only now succeeded in meeting us. An enthusiastic reception was accorded to them. After tea, the usual business was despatched, and a congratulatory address given by the president, Mr. Alex. Bryson, as to the success of the session’s rambles; toasts then followed. To “ The Ladies,” Mrs. Soule replied, expressing the great pleasure she had experienced in accompanying the Itamblers in the several times she had been with us, and giving us also an interesting and humorous account of “ Sorosis,” a ladies’ club in Hew York, of which she is a member. The toast of “ The Friends ” was proposed by Mr. Thomas Hill, and ably responded to by Mr. John Murray, of Manchester. The whole evening was indeed spent very enjoyably, and we reluctantly bade adieu to the hospitable “ Sun,” where we had been cheered, strengthened, and thoroughly revived, and took our places in the train for Glasgow, arriving there before ten o’clock, everyone according great praise to the guides, and expressing themselves well pleased with the trip to Doune and its old keep. 160 SYLVAX RAMBLERS.

FI FTH SESSION.

Ramble I.—22nd April, 1SS9.

Stonetyres and Tillietudlem festle, Guide, . - - Mr. Thomas Hill.

JjIpOR this first ramble of the fifth session a large ^ company assembled at the Central Station, and the party proceeded with the 9.10 a.m. train, special compartments being provided for us. The day was delightful, like one in midsummer, with its warm, bright sunshine, and we started in the highest glee, with the glorious expectation of having a right good outing. But as this interesting and historical place was visited by the Ramblers in October, 1886, and is fully described in Ramble XII. of that year, it is quite unnecessary to dwell on its beauty and lore again. Suffice to say that the ramble was most enjoyable, the weather beautiful, the scenery was splendid, and it is a lovely country-side to visit in the spring-time of the year when everything is fresh and fair. Our guide, Mr. Hill, who had made every arrangement for our comfort, and fully deserves our best thanks, also read a very interesting and exhaustive paper on the topographical position of the parish of Lesmahagow and the old castle of Tillietudlem, which was much appreciated. GREENOCK, LOCH THOM, AND INVERKIP. 161

Ramble II.—11th May, 1S89. ..04*0-

Kreenock, Lock Thom, and Inverkip, Guides. - - Messrs. Fleming and Adam.

this day the Sylvan Ramblers met Ye Jovial Pilgrims in St. Enoch Station at 3 p.m., the secretaries of the two clubs having previously arranged a joint ramble. Introductions were made all around, and the party left with the 3.5 train for Greenock. Arrived at Lynedoch Station, we started on our walk along Drumfrochar Road, uphill to the Shaws Water Cut, which stands five hundred feet above the level of the sea. The sky was dull and ominous-looking, and fears were entertained that we might have rain, nor would it have been at all surprising in this town, which ought to have for its coat of arms “a sou’-wester and an umbrella.” Happily, however, we were disappointed, and although the sun was veiled in clouds, it was nevertheless a capital day f

town hall, a graceful and well-proportioned edifice, which cost £100,000, the tower of which risesf 245 feet high. Greenock was created a burgh of barony in 1635 (Charles the First’s time), having then a population of less than 2000, and a Parliamentary burgh after the passing of the Reform Act in 1832. The population at the last census was nearly 65,000. The prosperity of the town dates from the Union, in 1707, when free commerce to America and the West Indies was opened. In 1699 part of the Darien expedition was fitted out at Cartsdyke, which at that time was separate from Greenock, and had a quay, while Greenock had none. However, Greenock now possesses a splendid quay, and the view from it is one of the finest in the kingdom. Continuing our journey, we soon lost sight of Greenock, and enter upon a moorland bit of country. On the road-side and near the top of the hill, after passing the reservoir, we rest ourselves for a “blink” at a delicious cool spring (fully 700 feet above sea level), and quaff a bicker of its icy crystal water. Agreeably refreshed, we resume our journey, which from this point is now all “doun hill scud.” Passing Loch Thom, which covers 330 acres, we have a lovely walk along the Cut, and a magnificent prospect is opened to our view, and had the day been clearer “Arran’s hills so grand” would have stood out and been distinctly seen. Our own poet, impressed with GREENOCK, LOCH THOM, AND INVERKIP. 165 the scene in going over the road previously, gives utterance to the following lines:— “ When rambling o’er the New Cut road, ’Midst art and Nature’s plans, Contrast the mighty works of God, With those of puny man’s.” A old farmer in the vicinity, who evidently saw no beauty in the natural surroundings, views it in a different light, and is said to have remarked that “ It was the last place the Lord made, and having too meikle earth left over, He had put it in ony way.” A free coup ! A little history of the Greenock Water Cut, provided by our guide, Mr. Adam, may not be out of place here. One of the most extraordinary works of the kind to be met with in any country is that by which the town is plentifully supplied with water for domestic use, and machinery to a prodigious extent can be impelled by it. The work was accomplished in 1827 by an association called the Shaws Water Company, constituted by A t of Parliament in 1825. The works consist of an immense artificial lake or reservoir, situated in the bosom of the hills, behind the town, formed by turning the course of some small streams, the principal called Shaws Water, which formerly ran into the sea at Inverkip, and from which the company takes its name. From the reservoir an aqueduct passes along the mountain, 164 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

range, running for several miles at an elevation of 500 feet above the level of the sea. The whole length of the aqueduct is six and a half miles; the reservoir covers 296 imperial acres of land, and there is a compensation reservoir covering 40 acres, besides smaller basins. Self-acting sluices, most ingeniously constructed, completely preserve the water during the greatest flood. There are also two extensive filters. The whole of this magnificent work was planned and executed by Mr. Thom, at an expense of £90,000. Arriving at Shielhill farm, which is about the beginning of the Cut, and at the Kipp Glen, we are met by the farmer and his sonsie guid-wife, and ushered into the best room. Here we are regaled with a bounteous supply of scones, cheese, and milk, to which every one does ample justice, and expresses himself satisfied. Before leaving, the company join in singing “Ye Mariners of England,” to the no small astonishment and delight of the inmates of the farm, who welcome our visit as an agreeable interruption to the monotony of their every-day life. The farmer, in bidding us good-bye, congratulated the clubs, and added, complimentary if we like, that “ there was as much spunk in us as a wheen young calves.” Leaving Shieihill farm, we have a charming sylvan walk down the valley of the Kipp, studded with a rich profusion of bright yellow primroses, until we GKEENOCK, LOCH THOM, AND INVERRIP. 165 reach the auld Roman brig, which still stands alongside the modern one, and near which we are told once stood Dunrod Castle. The legend goes— “ In Inverkip the witches rid thick, And in Dunrod they dwell; The grittest warlock among them a’ Is auld Dunrod himseT.” We arrive in Inverkip quite fresh, and not at all fatigued after our eight miles’ walk, which seems much shorter, it being so pleasant. Inverkip is one of the prettiest and most secluded watering-places on the west coast, and the house of the lord of the manor—Ardgowan—in the vicinity here commands a most magnificent view of the finest scenery on the firth ; while on the other side of the estuary rise the varied summits of the Argyleshire mountains. We have not long to wait for a train, which leaves at 7.25, and brings us back to the great city about 8.30 p.m. Before the clubs separate it is proposed we adjourn somewhere for an hour’s social crack and harmony. This idea is at once carried out, and speeches, song, recitations, and toasts fill up the time till 10 p.m., when we see our guests on their way home, each overjoyed at the success of the joint ramble, and promising ourselves a return of the pleasures. 166 SYLVAN RAMBLERS

Ramble III.—23rd May, 1SS9.

Rothesay and Mount Stuart

Gitles, - - Messrs. Gibb and Miller.

tliis day the Ramblers made a departure from their usual custom by selecting for the first time the Queen’s Birthday for a Ramble, the ladies being invited to join us. Our destination was Rothesay. In a short time we arrive at Wemyss Bay, and take our places on the steamer. Under the genial influence of the warm, bright sunshine, and drinking in the health-giving ozone, we feel our spirits lifted up within us in gladness, and forgetting for the time being all the cares and worries connected with daily toil in the city, and the anxieties of our home lives, we lay ourselves out for the enjoyment of the day before us. Rothesay is reached about 10.30 a.m., and an adjournment is made to the Black Bull for a refreshment, as also to enable our guides to make the necessary arrangements for dinner and provide a brake for Mount Stuart. The former bein"O accomplished and the latter now in readiness, we fill it just comfortably. ROTHESAY AND MOUNT STUART. 167

A description of Rothesay is quite superfluous and unnecessary. It is well known as the favourite of the many watering-places on the Clyde—the Brighton of Scotland—beautifully situated on the curve of a splendid bay. It has many attractions to ofler of ah interesting nature to the passing stranger. Amongst them is the old castle, which dates from 1098, and is situated in the very centre of the town, not five

Rothesay Bay from the Bandstand, minutes’ walk from the quay. The moat and drawbridge have been recently restored by the Marquis of Bute, at a cost of £8000, and enables one to have some idea of the castle in the olden time. Robert the Second resided here for a while, and here he died. Many interesting drives can be taken in the vicinity of Rothesay; that to St. Blane’s Chapel is a most enjoyable one, and also that we had origin- 168 SYLVAN RAMBLERS,

ally intended to take to St. Ninian and Ettrick Bay, and back by Port-Bannatyne. To-day, however, we ave selected a drive to Mount Stuart, the seat and occasional residence of the Marquis of Bute, and about five miles distant from Rothesay, along the Shore Road to Kilchattan Bay. Leaving the town, we pass the Royal Aquarium (which will repay a visit), and rounding the point at Craigmore and Ardencraig we soon arrive at Ascog. Dotted the whole way along the shore many charming villas and handsome palatial residences have been erected within a very few years, in all styles of architecture, ancient and modern, and belonging for the most part to our wealthy merchant princes in the west of Scotland. It is noticeable that there is some unusual stir in the bay to-day, from the appearance of quite a fleet of all kinds of sailing craft, and the occasional boom of a gun that announces the start or termination of a race. Upon inquiry we find that it is the opening cruise of the Royal Western Yacht Club, and the scene is a very picturesque one, the many “white wings” floating so smoothly on the broad expanse of water in the bright golden sunshine. But we have now arrived at the gate lodge of Mount Stuart grounds, and in the immediate vicinity of Kerrycroy. Taking leave of our driver, with instructious to call for us again in two hours’ time, we enter the domain of the noble marquis. Leisurely ROTHESAY AND MOUNT STUART. 1G9 walking up the avenue for a short distance, a fine well is discovered almost hidden in a sequestered nook off the road. Here we rest for a few moments to enjoy its cooling water. Proceeding a little further on the road, we reach the avenue of lime trees that intersects our way, and forms a perfect colonnade of a lovely description. Indeed, the whole of the walks are beautifully lined off with shrubbery, wild flowers and ferns growing in perfection, and intermixed are rhododendrons in a blaze of variegated colours that speaks much for the climate, and yet more for the care bestowed upon them. Arrived at the mansion, we must be content with only an exterior view (being unable to obtain admission to the interior), so we walk round about it. Since the fire in 1877, which destroyed the original mansion, with the exception of the north wing that still remains—the damage estimated at £14,000—a more noble structure has been erected, which is said to have cost near £200,000. It is built of red sandstone, in the Gothic style of architecture. The lawn in front of the house is spacious and very pretty, and adding to its beauty are great numbers of peacocks, majesti- cally strutting about, with tails outstretched like enormous fans. Wending our way shorewards, we rest awhile on the beach, and afterwards make our exit from the grounds by way of the old chapel. The brake and driver are waiting for us at the M 170 SYLVAN RAMBLERS. appointed time, and we are speedily conveyed back to town by the same road, arriving at the hotel at 3 p.m. We are soon ready for the dinner that is waiting, and partake heartily of its appetising fare. After this, two hours were spent in social festivities, songs (in which the ladies did their full part), recitations, speeches, and toasts. The presi- sident (Mr. John Adam), in a very felicitous speech, related the anecdote of the eccentric but kind-hearted Rev. James Adams, minister of the parish of Cumbrae at the beginning of the century. “He was a man of considerable originality of character, and is chiefly known as the minister who prayed that the Almighty would pour down His choicest blessings on the greater and the lesser Cumbraes, and that in His mercy He would remember the adjacent islands of Great Britain and Ireland! ’’ These pleasant moments were followed by a walk to the Chapel Hill, than from which no better view of Rothesay can be obtained ; and we returned to Glasgow about 8.30 p.m., enlivening the way with songs and choruses. PAISLEY AND PEESEWEEP INN. 171

Ramble IV.—1st June, 18S9. •o**

Paisley and Peeseweep Inn. Guides—Messrs. Hakt and Aldan.

this occasion we reversed our usual route to ' the lonely hostelry in the muir, and went by Paisley. The “ suburb,” as we Glasgow people call Paisley, is a busy, active, thriving place, and its High Street runs along one of its several adjacent ridges, whilst other streets straggle up and down the slopes, and through the town flows the White Cart. The stream is rich in hues, but, like our Clyde, white is not one of them. All around are heights, and, famous in song, are the Gleniffer Braes; whilst in the distance looms the Grampians and the Bens. Someone has said if Yarrow be Scotland’s Castalian spring, surely Paisley must be her Helicon, for it has been a perfect nest of song-writers of no mean order. Climbing the Gleniffer Braes, after a good stiff walk, we then passed over to the Feroneze range, towards the Nelston Pad, but after walking for some time—a walk which was very much enjoyed by all—we turned to the right and started for the Peeseweep Inn, to meet the other Ramblers who had 172 SSTLVAN RAMBLERS. come up in a machine from Glasgow. After wandering about to right and left, like the Israelites in the wilderness, we came upon a farmhouse, where we had a drink of milk, but the milkmaid milked the Ramblers to the tune of sixpence a head, and a young bull kept the door until we were milked. Refreshed by this costly cup, we started on the road again, and got to the lonely hostelry in good time, where we met our brother Ramblers and friends, and, after an interchange of courtesies,, the table was set in good style, and loaded with ham and eggs, fresh scones, oat cakes, loaf bread, and pancakes baked with peeseweep eggs, the company partake of a substantial “tousie tea,” with flashes of wit and humour. We had a speech from the chairman, and a merry, happy time with song and sentiment. Then, after seeing our friends of! in the machine, we took to the road, which was in splendid order, with fields in bloom on either side. We walked down through Stanley Shaw, at which place Tannahill wrote his beautiful song, “ Gloomy winter’s noo awa’; ” and just here we came to Macdonald’s Well — “the bonnie wee well on the breist o’ the brae.” After drinking of its cooling waters, we stand on the road and sing Tannahill’s lovely song, “ Thou bonnie woods o’ Craigielea; ” then we go down the hill, past Stanley Castle and Brodie Park, and were in Glasgow at 10.30 p.m. ARDROSSAN, SALTCOATS, AND STEVENSTON. 173

Ramble V.—15th June, 1889.

Mrossan, Saltcoats, and SteYenston.

Guides—Messrs. Fletcher and M'Millan. —o<£o-

T. Enoch Station is all bustle to-day, and we have some difficulty in finding carriage accommodation, but are latterly successful in securing a •compartment labelled “ Ladies only” which we cooly take possession of, creating some amusement, and evoking the smiles of many who, not so fortunate, are running up and down the platform in search of places. As the train moves out of the platform, we feel highly pleased in being nearly all together. The weather is beautiful, and the day is just such a day as makes us glad to leave the great and j?usy city for the pure country air and green fields. Nature is arrayed in her loveliest attire, the flower garden is all ablaze with colour, and the farmer sees the fruits of his labours in all directions, in those verdant fields which give promise of a rich and plentiful harvest. An hour’s travelling brings us to Ardrossan, South Beach, where we leave the train to proceed on our ramble. Making our way 174 SYLVAN RAMISLEKS. up-hill to the Water Works (which we have been accorded permission to inspect), we are received by one of the company’s servants, and conducted around the reservoirs, and before leaving are supplied with a sample of the water, which our friend remarks is not to be surpassed, and is highly prized by certain distillers in the making and blending of whiskies. Leaving the Water Works, our next visit is to Park House Dairy, and a model dairy it is too. It is milking-time, and as we pass through the byres where the maids are busy, we are struck with the order and cleanliness of all the surroundings. In the milk-house we are entertained to a glass of rich milk, warm from the cow, and without adulteration, at the small cost of one penny, and which is pro- nounced equal, if not superior, to the so-called cream got at the Peeseweep, for which, to the chagrin and consternation of the recipients, we were mulct in the charge of sixpence. Thanking our fair friends of the milking-pail, we bid them good-bye, and pursue our way down-hill, passing the new station of the Lanarkshire and Ayr- shire Railway, and lingering a short time at the new harbour works and docks, we walk up the principal street on our way to Castle or Common Hill. The name Ardrossan signifies a rocky height terminating at a point in the sea, from ard, a height, rossan, a small peninsula. Prior to the year 1805, AKDROSSAN, SALTCOATS, AND STEVENSTON. 175 the site of the town presented a mere solitude, there not being a dwelling of any kind on it, or nearer it than Parkhouse, the farm we have recently visited. “ The character of the place was eminently suitable, the great hand of Nature having already prepared a fitting foundation for quays and docks which now occupy it, and the acute and enterprising mind of Hugh, twelfth Earl of Eglinton, led him shortly after his accession to the estate to conceive the idea of converting this neglected place into a commodious seaport, which he proposed to connect with Glasgow by means of a canal. “The works were begun on the 31st of July, 1806, and prosecuted with great zeal, and during the first fourteen years it was calculated that no less a sum than £100,000 had been expended; but much still remained to be done before the magnificent concep- tions projected could be realised even to a limited extent. Indeed at one time the prospect of success was so dark and discouraging that a number of sub- scribers to the enterprise became disheartened, and his lordship’s successor, the late earl, ultimately became the proprietor. Earl Hugh died at the close of 1819, little anticipating the revolutionary changes which the introduction of steam would accomplish. For eight years subsequent to his death the harbour works were almost at a standstill. They were again renewed partially in 1825, and sometime in about 176 SYLVAN RAMBLERS,

1840 the wet dock was completed. In 1864 additional powers were received from Parliament for docks and other enlargements, which when carried out would realise to the full the dream of the noble projector. As it is, the facilities for discharging and loading vessels are equal to those of any harbour in the United Kingdom. The town of Ardrossan thus owes its origin to the harbour, and its growth has been in proportion to the advance of the works and the gradual increase of the shipping and other traffic.” The principal hotel (Eglinton) not only belongs to but is wrought by the present earl. The town to-day is thronged with excursionists, 1500 of whom are said to have come from Barrhead, and, like ourselves, are attracted to that much frequented spot, the Castle or Common Hill, so named from the common placed there. The view from here is beautiful. To the south is the old town of Salt- coats, now quite united with Ardrossan, and the eye travels along the coast and deep curvature of the bay of Ayr, with its many towns and harbours. In front, are the lofty peaks of Arran, in all their sublimity of mountain grandeur; while away to the far-opening channel stands the solitary cone of Ailsa Craig, like a watchful sentinel; to the north are the headlands of Bute and the lesser Cumbrae, shutting up the estuary of the Clyde. ■ARDROSSAN, SALTCOATS, AND STEVENSTON. 177

Here, overlooking the railway, a very handsome monument has been erected to the memory of the late Dr. Alexander MacFadyean, whose generous liberality to the suffering poor, prompted his personal friends and others, shortly after his death, to raise funds for its erection. Quite close at hand is the old castle of Ardrossan, the chief object of antiquity in the place. The only parts that now remain are an angle of the north tower, and two arched cellars, with a broad-stepped passage leading down to them. It is said to date from about the middle of the thirteenth century. About one hundred yards north-east of the castle is situated the old parochial burying-ground, sacred to the memory of the oldest inhabitants of the place. Descending the Castle Hill, we cross the railway bridge, and, walking along the railway, by the bowling green and tennis court, we again reach the seashore. The excursionists are found here disporting themselves in large numbers—the female element predominating. Dancing is being carried on vdgor- ously to the lively and inspiring strains of a fine brass band, on a green carpet of Nature’s own make, and there seems to be no lack of partners; perhaps, from the number of the fair sex who are dancing together, having no gallant swain to escort them through the mazes of the quadrille, a sudden longing to proffer our services seizes us for the moment; but, 178 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

alas! time will not permit, so we turn our backs upon them, with saddened hearts, and resume our journey through Saltcoats. Arriving at Mr. Fletcher’s house, a warm welcome awaits us from his good lady, who, with smiling countenance and out stretched hands, gives us a right royal reception. A plenteous and delightful refreshment is served at once, Mrs. Fletcher having provided a bounteous supply of pastry and fancy bread. Circumstances compel us to abbreviate the programme, as some of the Ramblers desire to catch boats and trains to join their families at different points on the coast, and so the leave-taking is a somewhat hurried one, which we all greatly regret. But we remember the ramble from first to last with pleasure, it being one of our most enjoyable, with a day that was perfection. CIIRYSTON AND LENZIE. 17S>

Ramble VI.—3rd August, 1889.

Kbryston and Lenzie.

Gl'IDES, Messrs. Ciiuue and Bryson.

Z^E met at the Buchanan Street Station at 3 p.m., and took the train for Garnkirk. On our arrival there we walked for about a mile through the village of Muirhead, when we struck the main road to Cumbernauld, passing Chryston on the left, till we reached the gate lodge and entrance to Bedlay house and grounds. Walking up the avenue we are met by Mr. Thomas Craig Christie, the proprietor, near the house, who welcomed us very cordially, and gave a very satisfactory history of the house for over 200 years back. The following account, taken from a book published by Maclehose, entitled “Old Country Mansions of Scotland,” is really the substance of the information Mr. Christie imparted to us :— “ In the ancient times the estate of Bedlay and Mollins formed part of the possession of the Cathedral Church of Glasgow, having been gifted to the bishopric by William the Lion, in the twelfth century. In 1507 Peter Colquhoun, of the family of Glins, was 180 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

the rentaller under the archbishop. Shortly before 1535 George Colquhoun was in possession, and in that year it is recorded, ‘It is rentallit to Robert Boyd (afterwards fourth Lord Boyd), son and heir- apparent of Robert Boyd of Kilmarnock, by consent of the last possessor’ (the title was then under for- feiture). It is further added that the profits of said lands to remain with the said George and Margaret Boyd, his spouse, during their lifetime. Soon after the Reformation, James Boyd of Trochrig, titular Archbishop of Glasgow from 1572 to 1581, alienated Bedlay and Mollins to this Robert, his kinsman, by this time fourth Lord Boyd, a man celebrated for the prominent and inconsistent part he took in the political troubles which characterised Queen Mary’s reign. The estate continued in the Boyd family till 1642, when, in consequence of a heavy fine of £15,000 imposed by Cromwell on James, eighth Lord Boyd, for his steady support of royalty, the latter was obliged to mortgage some portions and sell others of his landed possessions. Bedlay and Mollins came under the latter category, and this estate was accordingly conveyed in 1642 to James Robertson, advocate, son of Archibald, second son of John Robertson of Carnock. This new owner of Bedlay was a man of great learning and integrity. In 1661 he was raised to the judicial bench, under the title of Lord Bedlay, and died in 1664. The CHKYSTOX AND LENZIE. 181 last owner of the Robertson line was James, an advocate, who died childless at Edinburgh, 14th November, 1798. The purchaser of Bedlay and Mollins in 1786 was James Dunlop, who had shortly before acquired the adjoining estate of Garnkirk. He was the eldest son of Colin Dunlop of Carmyle, Lord Provost of Glasgow in 1770. Both father and son were leading merchants in the city. In 1793 the estates of Garnkirk and Bedlay were sold to another Glasgow merchant. John M'Kenzie, who married a daughter of Sir John Stirling of GloraL In 1804 Bedlay and Mollins again changed owners, and passed by purchase to James Campbell of Peters- hill, a gentleman of large property in the city. Mr. Campbell resided at Bedlay House till his death in 1829, at the advanced age of ninety-eight, and was succeeded by his second son, Alexander (Petershill having been settled on James, his eldest son). Alexander resided in Bedlay, where he died unmar- ried in 1852, at the age of sixty-six. He was a member of the Glasgow Faculty of Procurators, and was noted for his fascinating manners and amiable disposition. He left his estates to his niece, Catherine Cameron Campbell, only surviving daughter of his late brother, Ralph Campbell, of Petershill. She married Mr. Thomas Craig Christie, and died without issue in 1854, and was succeeded by her husband in the estates of Bedlay, Mollins, and Petershill. Mr. 182 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

■Christie has married a second time, his wife being the eldest daughter of the late John Cross Buchanan, of Moss and Auchintoshan, and has issue. The mansion stands on a quietly elevated platform, overlooking a well-wooded dell, through which the Bothlin Burn wanders on its way to the Luggie, and is a quadrangular structure, with two round turrets, and high peaked crow-stepped gables. The Robert- sons made great additions to it, comprehending the turreted section and the principal apartments now in use. Their armorial bearings remain in a prominent position in the eastern gable. As is often the case in old manor houses, there is a secret hiding place, the access to which is obtained through a movable panel in a seat in the window recess. The greater part of the older division of the edifice was removed forty years ago, and, along with it, an ancient mausoleum which stood in a clump of trees in the lawn. This old tomb was an eerie place, an abode of the fitful owl, and in some degree it added to the uncanny reputation of the mansion, in whose corridors it was believed by the country people that at midnight unknown sounds were heard mingling with footsteps, and the rustling of rich attire.” After Mr. Christie’s most exhaustive account of the history of Bedlay House, we were kindly invited to enter its precincts, and afterwards conducted through almost all its apartments, from basement to CIIRYSTON AND LENZIE. 183 turret. The room in the latter is what is known as the Haunted Chamber, and is now occupied as his son’s bedroom. At one time, the staircase to it was built up, and no access could be got to it. It is a cheerful and comfortable little room, nothing gloomy about it, and just such a place, as we might judge, the choicest of spirits met and held high revelry at the midnight hour. For we could see around the room sword-sticks and foils, dumb-bells and boxing gloves, with the portraits of well-known theatrical characters gracing the walls, and a cabinet photo., in handsome frame, of “ John L.” on the dressing table. Entering the dining-room we are equally surprised to find the table spread with cakes and wine for our refreshment. A varied assortment of liquors is at our command, and we are all asked to help ourselves to that most suited to our taste. A feeling of shyness overcomes us for the moment, which is quickly dispelled by the unostentatious manner in which our host urges us, and as he specially advocates the fine quality and blend of the “ mountain dew,” we have much pleasure in bestowing upon it our patronage. Leaving the house, we are leisurely conducted by Mr. Christie and his son through the grounds, visiting the stable and gardens, and crossing the fields, we are led into the track of the Old Monkland Rail- way (but not now used for passenger traffic), along which we walk for a short distance on the confines 184 SYLVAN RAMBLERS. of Bedlay estate, and where it adjoins Gartferry. Here we again thank Mr. Christie for his kindness, and bid good-bye to him and his son, and receive the hearty invitation to be sure and make another visit to Bedlay, and choose a better day than the one we have had, for although not very bad, it is dull, cloudy and threatening. He wished we had seen his place under better aspects, for he has a bigh opinion of it, and thinks there is no more beautiful spot to be seen almost anywhere. Through a turnstile, at the side of the railway, we wend our way through the wood, and into a private footpath leading to Gartferry House. Watson, the local (Chryston) poet, sings:— “ We’ll gang by the links o’ the wild runnin’ burnie, Whaur aft in my morning o’ life I did stray; Whaur wide-spreading hawthorns, sae ancient and hoary, Enrich the sweet breeze on the braes o’ Bedlay.”

Gartferry is the property of H. B,. Taggart, Esq., one of our leading Glasgow warehousemen. It was (with the exception of the new addition recently erected) built in the early part of the last century on the site of an older mansion. It was used as a jointure house by the Robertsons of Bedlay. The house, to-day, is shut up, the family being from home; but we have the proprietor’s permission to roam about his policies at our own sweet will, pull as much fruit and flowers as we please, and CHRYSTON AND LENZIE. 185 perhaps, had he only known us better, left the key of his wine cellar with us. As it is, the coachman kindly favours us with a drink of milk, and helps each one to form a bouquet by kindly cutting the flowers for them. A short rest is taken in his house, during a heavy shower, after which we start on the road again towards Mollinburn, which is about two miles distant on the Cumbernauld Road, the time.being agreeably diversified with jokes and stories. Arrived at Mollin- burn, rest and refreshment is again obtained in the village inn, and we feel strengthened to continue the somewhat long journey that still lies before us. Taking the road to the north-west on entering the village, we continue along it for about a mile, and reach the old ruins of Badenheath Tower, which is said to be connected by a subterranean passage with Bedlay House. A rather fatiguing walk, which tests the endurance of the Ramblers, is taken from Badenheath to Lenzie, a distance of perhaps somewhat over four miles. The guides are severely censured for taking this weary road and leading them by a roundabout way. The mistake, however, lies in the supposition that Lenzie is not so far as it really is, for when about half-way we inquire of some farm labourers how far it is yet to Lenzie, and we are told it is three miles yet! Oh ! that big, big exclamation ! and N 186 SYLVAN RAMBLERS. our bosoms swell with fiery indignation; but there is no help for it, and so we plod wearily on, and as we turn around by the side of Woodielee Asylum the shades of evening are closing in. Footsore and weary, we at last reach the railway station in time to catch the 9 p.m. train, when the equanimity of temper that had deserted us for the last half-hour is again recovered; and we feel, on some other occasion, we must renew the latter part of out- ramble, for it is through a delightful part of the country-side, and can be made an afternoon ramble.

Ramble VII.—17th August, 1889.—Blantyre Priory and Bothwell.

In the absence of the secretary, no notes were taken, but each of the party carried home beautiful memories, the ramble being through a region of great historic interest; and the afternoon being a fine one, the walk through the tangled mazes of the wood, with the views from the ruined windows of the Priory, which is situated on a precipitous rock rising to a great height on the banks of the Clyde, opposite Bothwell Castle, were exceedingly picturesque and attractive. EDINBUEGH AND SOUTH QUEEXSFKRRY. 187

Ramble VIII.—31st August, 1889.

Edinkrgl) and South Queensferry, Guide, Mr. Hugh Riddell.

N this day, Ti’ade Holiday, the Ramblers assembled at Queen Street Station at 9.30 a.m. We understand the lofty building of Messrs. Graham, on the east side, was decorated with the usual Turkey red bunting in honour of our ramble to-day, but it must have been removed before our departure, as we failed to observe anything of the kind. We could not have selected a better day for an excursion. The sun shone brightly on all around, and poured forth the warmth of summer rays over the fields and pastures, giving promise of as fine a day as ever gladdened the aspect of this beautiful world. On arriving in the Scottish metropolis, it was resolved to abandon the programme, as set down on the card, of visiting the several places of interest in and around the city (the day being too hot for much walking), and take a drive to South Queens- ferry and the Forth Bridge instead. Some delay was experienced before the arrangements were com- 188 SYLVAN RAMBLERS. pleted for securing a brake; but the delay turned out to our advantage, as it resulted in our travelling in one of the large coaches, called the “Edinburgh Castle,” with several rows of seating across the top, and having a driver arrayed in red coat and white hat, with four horses in hand. The drive from Edinburgh is beautifully diversified. After passing the Dean Bridge, we observe on the left Daniel Stewart’s College, a palatial secondary school, and on the high ground in the right distance Fettes’ College, while nearer is the St. Cuthbert’s Poorhouse. A little on we drive through the small village of Blackball, and then pass Davidson’s Mains. Continuing up the hill, the coach passes on the right the Barnton Woods, and soon comes to Cramond Bridge, where there is a prettily-situated inn. A halt of five minutes is made here. On the right there commences the demesne of the Earl of Rosebery, which extends to South Queensferry, and on the left is Craigie Hall, the seat of Mr. Hope Yere, the descendent of an old country family. In front, the long chimneys which soon come into view belong to the Dalmeny Oil Works, a small but prosperous undertaking, which has returned its capital to the shareholders in dividends every four years. We now near South Queensferry, and the towers of the bridge begin to come into view on the right. On the left are the works erected for the construction EDINBURGH AND SOUTH QUEENSFERRY. 189 of the bridge. Descending the steep Hawes Brae, our coach passes under the viaduct of the bridge, and draws up at the Hawes Inn, mentioned by Scott in “The Antiquary.” The road in front of the inn is crowded with all kinds of conveyances, and there are a great number of excursionists from the West of Scotland here to-day on holiday. Steamers plied regularly every half-hour from the pier, carrying passengers around the island of Inchgarvie under the bridge. The most of our party took advantage of a sail across the Forth, under the mighty structure, which was highly enjoyable. On returning again to terra fir via, we immediately took our places in the brake provided for us, and leave Queensferry shortly after four o’clock by the road we came, and arrive at Newhaven about six p.m., in good condition to sit down to the substantial fish dinner in the Peacock Hotel, for which we had previously arranged. We are entertained by a seren- ade on the outside from a group of children on the seashore, who sing a song about “ a great big caller haddie,” diversified with cries of “ pour out,” and then a scramble for coppers. Just sufficient time after dinner to listen to a few songs from the company, when we take a car to the station, getting a train that brings us safely into Glasgow a little after ten o’clock, all declaring that this ramble was most sucecssful. 190 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

Ramble IX.—U+th Sept., 1889.

-•oQo—

Kastlecary and Sastls Rankin.

Guides—Messrs. Allan and M‘Menemy.

EAVHSTG Queen Street Station at 3.5 p.m., we soon reached Castlecary, that lies about fifteen miles to the north-east of Glasgow. The Redburn Glen to the west here forms the boundary between Dumbarton and Stirlingshire, and is spanned by a splendid eight-arched viaduct of the N.B. Railway; and here was one of the principal stations on Antonious’ "Wall, where many Roman antiquities have been found on and near the site, such as urns, coins, weapons, and altars; but the ploughshare has totally effaced it. In the vicinity is Castlecary Castle, an old square tower forty feet high, with walls five feet thick, a spiral staircase, secret passages, and an eastern addition having date 1679. It was burned by a party of Highlanders in the ’15, and is now the property of the Earl of Zetland. Our road takes us CASTLECAHY AND CASTLE RANKIN. 191 across the Forth and Clyde Canal, uphill to the little village of Haggs, and we have a very pleasant walk of about an hour, when we reach Glenhead Bridge. Leaving the public road, we now cross the stile or gate to Rankin Glen, Castle Rankin. The rivulet or burn here takes its name from an ancient fortalice that once stood upon its banks, and shares its name with a hamlet and farm in the neighbourhood. Walk- ing down the burnside for a short distance, we are startled by the report of a gun, and are immediately confronted with the sportsman himself in the deep recesses of the wood, with the rabbit lying dead at his feet. Vi,e ask for Rankin farm, and are directed to keep on our way, and here commences one of the most exciting walks on record. Marching single file, we force our way through the tangled shrubbery and brushwood along a narrow ridge of debris from some coal or ironstone pit, picking our steps with the greatest of care, as one false step (or should the treacherous soil give way) would precipitate us to the burn below. By-and-by our party get separated from each other at long distances, and are no longer to be seen. It is everyone for himself, and communication is kept up by shouting now and again. We are lost in the mazes of the wood, and our guides seem to be as much lost as ourselves. Unable to see our way ahead, an ascent is made to the top of the hill to find if any outlet is to be got from that 192 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

quarter, but only to discover we have got on the wrong side of the burn. “ We've wandered through The meadows broad and green, Over the stile, and through the glen, And by the rippling stream.”

A descent is made into the valley, and crossing, we climb on the opposite side. Fatigued and breathless, we rest ourselves a short time on the hillside, and then pursue our way to the farmhouse now in sight, where a warm welcome and reception is accorded us by the guid-wife. Entering the farm kitchen, a roomy apartment occupying the full breadth of the building, with windows on either side, and a large cheery fireplace, there is spread out for us an abundant supply of scones, cakes, bread, cheese, butter, and rich milk. We forget the perils and hardships we have recently undergone in the midst of the comfort and plenty before us. A hearty meal is partaken by all, and everyone expresses himself satisfied. Paraffin lamps are now brought in, for darkness comes on apace. Business and songs and sentiments use up the remainder of our time, the farmer’s wife and daughters joining in “Auld Langsyne.” Leaving our hospitable friends with a promise of returning some other day, we start again on the long journey that still lies before us. Darkness has now spread its pall across the CASTLECAKY AND CASTLE RANKIN. 193

whole scene, but, invigorated by our substantial repast, we trudge cheerfully on for three or four miles, and arrive at Denny town. The place presents an unusually busy appearance on this Saturday night, the square being crowded with people congregated around several “Cheap Jacks” disposing of their wares by auction. The district is principally a mining one for coal and ironstone, although employment is further afforded in several large foundries and iron works in the neighbourhood. Refreshments are obtained at .the hotel, where we learn that it is still four miles distance to Castlecary Station. This information causes consternation and dismay amongst half of our party, who determine they will not walk another step further, and proceed forthwith to make inquiries as to hiring a machine. The remainder, who do not feel the necessity for this, quietly jog along the road, our friends overtaking us in their machine about half-way. Passing through Dennyloanhead, we arrive at the railway station in good time to catch the last train for Glasgow, which brings us into the city shortly before ten p.m., very weary and somewhat footsore, after one of the longest walks of the session. 194 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

Ramble X.—28th Sept, 1889.

Mugdock and foaigmaddie Reservoirs.

Guides, Messrs. Mili eu and Riddell.

FTER a short railway drive we arrive in Miln- gavie about three, and walk up-hill to the Mugdock waterworks and reservoir (which we visited in the month of May last year). We are very much interested in the progress that is being made in the new works and reservoir at Craigmaddie, and so have a tour of inspection around all, and find that a great deal has been done since our last visit, and they are beginning to assume some shape, giving us now an idea of their vastness. These works cover an area of about 70 acres, and, as the whole work is in a strict sense artificial, a visit to them is of exceeding interest. The first sod of the new reservoir at Craigmaddie was cut on the 1st of May, 1886, by ex-Lord Provost M'Onie. We understand that the present Mugdock reservoir contains 550 million gallons, or 11 days’ supply of 50 million gallons a day, and is drawn from a MUGDOCK AND CUA1GMADDIE RESEEVOIRS. 195

storage reservoir at Locli Katrine of 5,600,000,000 gallons, or 110 days’ supply. By the Water Act of 1885 the Corporation were empowered to raise the level of Loch Katrine over five feet, which would increase the storage to 9,850,000,000 gallons, or nearly 200 days’ supply. Besides this, they had purchased Loch Achray, and they proposed raising its level 25 feet, so that it would contain over 2,000,000,000 galls. The new reservoir being constructed at present will contain 700 million gallons, or 14 days’ supply at the rate mentioned—in all, 25 days. The new tunnel will pass daily 70 millions of gallons, as against 42 millions by the old one. The distance from Loch Katrine to the reservoirs is 25J miles—Ilf miles being tunnelled through the mountains, lOf miles open cutting, and 3f miles of pipes through the valleys; so, counting 8f miles of . pipes additional from the reservoirs to the city, there is a distance traversed by the water of 34| miles. The outlay of the original works was about £1,500,000 up to 1860, and time occupied was about three years. It will be three or four years before the new reservoirs will be in a complete state for use; and the total cost of the tunnel, pipes, grand reservoirs, etc., will not be much short of £1,000,000. The yearly revenue at the beginning was £62,335; but some two years ago (1886-7) it had reached the high figure of £163,000. This Craigmaddie service reser- 196 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

voir, when completed, will be one of the largest works of the kind in Scotland, and amongst the most extensive in the British islands. Having made a thorough. and complete inspection of the works, we walk around the side of Mugdock dam to the outlet from the new tunnels, and from there stroll leisurely up the hill to the village of Old Mugdock, where in the little “ Sun ” (as on a former visit),we expect to find a few minutes’ rest and refreshments. But, alas! for our expectations! O, bitter disappointment and blighted hope! Never more will the Sylvan Ramblers or any other weary and footsore travellers enjoy the comforts of this modest rural establishment. The house truly remains, but to many is now shorn of its charms; the old signboard is removed, the license is taken away, but the reason thereof no one telleth us. As a solatium to our injured feelings, an attempt is made to obtain milk at an adjoining farm; but the effort is fruitless. There is no other resource but to push onward to “ Mulguy.” With quickened pace and swinging steps we pursue our way to the Strathblane Road, only halting for a short time to look at the immense rock-cutting operations that are being carried on alongside the main road, the excavated gorge being almost 20 feet wide and 140 feet deep, it being absolutely necessary to go down this great depth to get a bottom or floor JIUGDOCK AM) CRAIGMADDIE RESERVOIRS. 197

of rock sufficiently impervious to the percolation of water before the saving clay is puddled into final position. The blasting for this puddled trench has proved a very protracted, tedious, and uncertain operation. The old turnpike road here has also been diverted for about half a mile. Milngavie is reached about seven o’clock, where our recent disappointments are forgotten and drowned in a hearty, refreshing tea. An hour of songs and speeches is then enjoyed—our friend Mr. Sanderson treating us to a song of his own composition, entitled “Tig,” which tickled our risible faculties—by which time we are compelled to hasten to the railway station, and soon taking a train arrive safely in Glasgow at 9.30, our memories pleasant on the whole, and our anticipations bouyant in regard to the final ramble of the session. 198 SYLVAN KAMBLERS.

Ramble XI.—3rd October, 1889.

Sallander, Bracklinn Bridge, and

Loch Katrine. Guides, - - Messrs. Adam and Currie.

T^ANY anxious and gloomy forebodings as to the weather must have filled the hearts of the Ramblers, as at an early hour this morning (the Autumn Holiday) they left their homes, well wrapped up in waterproofs and armed with stout umbrellas, fully equipped and prepared for the worst, and wended their way to the place of meeting— Buchanan Street Railway Station. This was to be the last ramble for the session, and we had looked forward to this day with bright hopes and joyous anticipations, cherishing the thought that this trip to Callander and through the Trossachs would be our crowning triumph. But it seemed as if the elements were against us on this occasion, and that the “ weather clerk ” had forecast, for this time, that there should be an exception to our usual luck. Indeed, we could hardly have experienced CALLANDER AND LOCH KATRINE. 199 a more miserable morning for leaving the city on a holiday, as cold, misty, drizzling rain fell steadily from a dull, leaden sky, casting a gloom on all surrounding objects, and our spirits fell like the barometer, leaving us sadly and hopelessly despon- dent. There appeared to be something prophetic in the heading of our programme—

“ Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness.”

At the station we were greatly astonished and cheered to find such a large turnout of the members, ladies, and friends; and as each arrival is greeted with happy, smiling faces and best wishes, we are encouraged by the fond hope, which is very generally entertained, that the prospect will yet brighten up, the mists roll away, and a glorious day be in store for us. We leave the city at 7.30 a.m. and are soon whirling on our way to the north. The weather and our former despondency are forgotten amidst the cheerful conversation and hearty laugh that is elicited now and again from some well-told joke, and the agreeable banter carried on one with another. Not till we have passed Larbert, the first stop made, do we discover, to our no small astonishment and pleasure, that no rain has fallen in this neighbourhood this morning. Joy animates every heart, the scene has changed, and, as if by the magician’s hand, becomes 200 SYLVAN RAMBLERS. one of grandeur and beauty. The field of Bannock- burn is passed on our left, and we are awakened to a new and deeper interest in the place and its surroundings, after having witnessed that wonderfully realistic picture that has been exhibited for the past year in the panorama of that name, and which has deservedly become one of the sights of our city. Our train now rushes through Stirling without stopping, and we get merely a passing glimpse of the Wallace monument on the Abbey Craig as we cross

the Forth. From this point we run through a most charming country for about sixteen miles, passing Bridge of Allan, on the banks of Allan Water, rendered famous in song; Dunblane, with its old Cathedral; and Doune, with its old Castle, the latter of which we had the pleasure of visiting at this time CALLANDER AND LOCH KATRINE. 201 last year; and arrive in Callander at 9.30. A short walk from the station brings us to the Macgregor Hotel, where mine host awaits our arrival, and conducts us to the large dining-room, where our wants are immediately supplied with the particular refreshments most suited to our taste. There is no delay or time lost in doing the sights of the town. A large and varied programme of scenery, the grandest in our land, has this day to be viewed, and we have no reluctance in leaving the comforts which the hotel affords. Besides, the day is now bright and warm, and we feel exhilarated with the freshness and splendour of the air and glorious scenery, as we drink in the beauty of this autumn morning. To quote the lines on our programme—

“ Gorgeous are thy woods, October, Clad in glowing mantles green ; Brightest tints in beauty blending, Like the west when day’s descending— Thou’rt the sunset of the year.”

The village of Callander is situated on the river Teith, 16 J miles north-west of Stirling, and 14 miles south of Lochearnhead. It is literally hemmed in by mountains, conspicious among which is Ben Ledi (which signifies the Mountain of God, and is supposed to have been formerly a Druidical altar), rising on the south-west to a height of 2380 feet. Two mountain streams, the one flowing from Loch Lubnaig by the o 202 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

Pass of Leny, the other from Loch Katrine, by Loch Achray and Loch Yennacher, unite at Callander and the river thus formed takes the name of Teith. Hence the designation of the territory of Monteith. The village is of considerable size, the houses being neat and clean-looking, although they have a rough and rugged appearance. Our walk takes us through the east part of it, at the extremity of which we climb up the hill to the north, and proceed leisurely along the moor, through tangled broom, and bracken and heather. The scenery around is mingled in its character, partaking to some extent of the soft grace and beauty of the Lowlands, and the rugged character of the Highlands, on the confines of which two districts the village lies. We soon arrive at Bracklinn Palls, a distance of about a mile and a half from Callander, and standing upon the narrow alpine bridge, constructed rudely of planks and branches, which spans the tempestuous mountain stream, formed by the western branch of the Keltic burn, just above a magnificent cataract, the falls are viewed to great advantage. The Keltic is a good specimen of a wild Highland stream. It does not flow through a valley, but tumbles wild and brawling, and speckled with foam, down a narrow, rocky gorge, roaring and leaping as it goes on a succession of short falls and green linns, as if indignant at the many rebuffs it meets with CALLANDER AND LOCH KATRINE. 203 in its course to the grand satisfactory leap over the cliffs at Bracklinn, where it plunges over a height of fifty feet. The name, Bracklinn, signifies speckled, or a white foaming pool. The grandeur of the falls of Bracklinn depends very much on the state of the weather (and to-day they are not seen at their best), for, like all streams in mountain regions, its waters rise rapidly, and swell into a turbulent, thundering torrent after heavy rains, and, when these are past, fall again almost as quickly into their original narrow channel.

“ Thou shakest, good friend, thy tresses grey, That pleading look, what can it say But what I own ? I grant him brave. But wild as Bracklinn’s thundering wave.”

Resting ourselves awhile on the grassy bank, there is produced and opened in our midst a bag, which our guides have carried in turn with the most con- siderate care and tenderness, and we are delighted to find from the contents that we are to be refreshed after our recent exertions. Leaving the falls, we retrace our steps back to the hotel by the road we came. Here are two brakes in readiness to convey our party in the famous drive to the Trossachs. Taking our seats, we are soon on the road. A mile and a half from Callander, and the little Highland hamlet of Kilmahog is reached ; a mile further on to the left is the ford of Coilantogle, 204 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

where Roderick Dhu guided Fitz-James, and fought that terrible combat. It is situated at the point where Loch Vennacher narrows into the river. But soon the loch itself bursts upon our view. Scott writes of the scenery in the following strains:— “ Here Vennacher in silver flows; There ridge on ridge Ben Ledi rose; Ever the hollow path turned on Beneath steep bank and thundering stone; A hundred men might hold the post With hardihood against a host.”

Loch Vennacher is five miles long and one and a half broad. Two islands rest upon its bosom; one of them is named the “ Island of Lamentation.” The scenery around is soft and verdant, contrasting well with the more distant heights. To-day there is enchantment in the view; the leaves have changed their greenness for the russet brown and red, and are now falling thickly on the wayside, telling of a summer that is passing away. At the upper end of the loch is the spot which Sir Walter peoples so suddenly with armed men at the whistle of the chief of Clan Alpine:— “ Instant through cope and heath arose Bonnets and spears and bended bows; On right, on left, above, below, Sprung up at once the lurking foe.” Lannrick Mead, also at the head of the loch, used to be the mustering-place of Clan Alpine. It is a level piece of ground in the midst of wild mountain CALLANDER AND LOCH KATRINE. 205

scenery; and a short distance beyond it is Dun- craggen, where “ Angus, the heir of Duncan’s line,’' was mourning by the side of his father’s bier when he was rudely interrupted by the bearer of the “fiery cross” in his terrible progress through the country. But no human power, not even the “ fiery cross” could arouse the lifeless form of him who should have carried the warlike symbol forward to its next stage. His young son, however, dashing the tears from his eyes, belts on his father’s sword and dirk, and bears it onward. Having now travelled a distance of seven miles, we arrive at the Brig o’ Turk. It was here Fitz- James lost sight of his attendants, and a lonely enough place it was in those days. At the bridge there is a road that leads to Glenfinlas, a deer forest belonging to the Earl of Moray. It is a wild, desolate tract of country, about ten miles in extent, enclosed by lofty mountains, whose dark sides are clothed with forests and seamed with rivulets. As we ascend the road from the Brig o’ Turk, the narrow strait or river gradually widens into Loch Achray, which name signifies “level field.” The first part of the scenery on which we enter is of a soft, gentle character; but one or two glimpses are obtained which prepare us a little for the grandeur of the Trossachs, now not far distant. From a point or headland jutting into the loch we obtain a partial 206 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

view of Ben Yenue and Ben A’an, and soon after the whole of the former is visible. The loch is two miles long, by one and a half broad. Near the western extremity stands the Trossachs church, a pretty little Gothic building of small dimensions; and a little further on is the Trossachs hotel, a good specimen of Scotch baronial architecture, with its turreted towers and crow-stepped gables. We notice it has recently been considerably enlarged by the addition of another wing, this owing, no doubt, to the in- creased flow of tourists into these romantic scenes during the summer and autumn of each year. At last we have reached the pass of the Trossachs. It is utterly impossible to convey a correct idea of it by means of description. Even Scott’s magic pen fails to do full justice to the magnificent spot. It is a scene of unparalleled grandeur, and raised within us a feeling of the deepest awe. The thick, tangled bushes, trees, and creeping plants give a rich effect to the scenery, while in other places the eye in vain attempts to penetrate the gloomy shades of crags and dells and deep ravines. “ Where twined the path in shadows hid, Round many a rocky pyramid, Shooting abruptly from the dell Its thunder-splintered pinnacle; Round many an insulated mass, The native bulwarks of the pass, Huge as the tower which builders vain Presumptuous piled on Shinar’s plain.” CALLANDER AND LOCH KATRINE. 207

A short distance beyond the pass we come upon a deep, clear pool, which, after winding gradually among rocky points, at length opens out into the broad, clear sheet of Loch Katrine. The loch is 400 feet above the level of the sea, and is about ten miles in length. On the left are the rugged masses of the Trossachs, and on the opposite side of the loch rises the magnificent form of Benvenue, with its wild

LOCH KATRINE. crags and crevasses and luxuriant herbage. To quote the lines on our programme— “ What a scene was here For princely pomp or churchman’s pride! On that bold brow, a lordly tower; In that soft vale, a lady’s bower! ’Tis the scenery of a ‘poet’s dream.’” The hour is two p.m., and we have now arrived at the end of our journey, and gladly descend from our elevated position on the brakes to terra firma. The little fairy steamer lies at the end of the rustic pier awaiting passengers who wish to take a trip to the 508 SYLVAN RAMBLERS. other end of the loch and back. Time, however, will not permit us to avail ourselves of this mode of conveyance, and we must be content with 'walking for a short distance along the road which skirts the northern margin of the loch, winding around the foot of rugged and stupendous cliffs. Arriving at the Silver Strand, we make our way on to an elevated promontory and almost island, facing Ellen’s Isle, and, throwing ourselves down amongst the heather, are soon engaged in the most delightful of pic-nics, feasting our eyes all the time on the beauty and grandeur that surrounded us. This truly romantic and beautiful islet before us has been made famous by Scott’s poem, and is the spot to which King James was conducted by Ellen, the daughter of Douglas. It was formerly the haunt of some of the most desperate of the Macgregor clan, who ravaged the neighbouring plains of the Lowlands, driving the cattle of the farmers through the wild passes of the fastnesses, and conveying them, along with other booty, to Helen’s Isle. Here they were safe from the laws of their country, for the only way in which their glens could be reached were through the formidable pass of the Trossachs, which a mere handful of resolute men might have kept against a host, and by the head of Loch Lomond, through a country which might easily be defended by such desperadoes as held sway in this region. CALLANDER AND LOCH KATRINE. 209

We would fain linger yet awhile on this enchanting spot, of which no description can do justice, for it must be seen to be appreciated. But we retrace our steps again by the side of the loch, and soon find our seats on the brake, and, leaving this scene of enchantment, return to Callander. The sun has gone down behind the lofty mountains, the air has changed, and we feel somewhat cold and stiff after the long drive, and the sight of the hotel brings welcome visions of food and warmth. We find that every accommodation has been made for our “ tousie tea” in the capacious dining-room, and a gay, brilliant scene soon effaces all memory of discomfort. After the hearty and refreshing meal, we spend two hours in the usual way—speeches, songs, and sentiments making the time fly on golden wings. Then we reluctantly leave the hotel, proceed to the station, and, scattering ourselves to meet the exigencies of the case, we finally are all seated in the train, and reach Glasgow safely a little after 11 p.m. “ 0! the longest, longest summer day Seem’d too, too much in haste To pass away—but we must part.” As we speak the parting words and go to our homes, we refer in enthusiastic terms to the day’s outing, realising that it was one of the grandest on record, and a beautiful memory with which to close up the fifth session. 210 SYLVAN RAMULERS.

iri Outing in the Highlands,

WITH THE SYEVAN RAMBLERS.

By Rev. CAROLINE A. SOULE.

•o^o»*

go or not to go? That was the question, as I opened my sleepy eyes at four o’clock 'of a dull, dreary morning in May, 1890, the day set apart by the Corpoi'ation of Glasgow to be celebrated as the Queen’s birthday. I had not been pleasuring for ten months, and as all work and no play makes even those who have reached or passed maturity dull creatures, I felt that I ought to go, and that I wanted to go, for we were to see Glen Ogle and sail on Loch Awe. The early morning was dull and dreary, and with rain falling; but Glas- wegians never stay at home because it rains. . . . I find my party of forty-one all assembled, and our guides soon usher us into saloon carriages, which have been reserved for the “Sylvan Ramblers j” so there is not the usual rushing and squeezing of a holiday trip. Soon we reach Bannockburn, and in the distance we see the flag floating proudly over the famous battlefield. Then Stirling, the key of the Highlands, with its old castle, from the battlements AN OUTING IN THE HIGHLANDS. 211 of which is one, if not the finest view, landscape and waterscape, in Europe. Here, too, you get an ad- mirable view of Abbey Craig, with Wallace’s monument, which is becoming, indeed, the Valhalla of Scotland, so many busts now adorning one of its rooms—busts of the noble and the valiant, as well as the novelist and the poet. Then we reach Allan Water, famous in Scottish song, and run close to the Bridge-of-Allan, a picturesque little health resort, at the foot of the Ochils On we speed till Callander is reached. We have all been longing to- reach Callander, for 0! there we are promised a cup of tea—breakfast indeed; and to a Scotch-American, or American-Scotch (which am I ?) a cup of tea is a foretaste of all manner of sweet comfort. And listen to the arrangements. One of of the guides, Mr. Dow —his name is enshrined in my heart—has planned everything to perfection. He has made a genuine soiree table, one that will fold itself up and seem a modest bit of a narrow plank, but which, at a magical touch, will rise up and stand steadily on its many feet. This table is shoved into the saloon carriage; it rises on its feet; it drapes itself with a snowy cloth ; and plates, cups and saucers, knives, forks, and spoons issue out of a bag, also the work of this Crusoe of a guide. And then sandwiches and biscuits (crackers, a I’Americaine), cheese and cakes appear. And then pot after pot of tea, at the boiling 212 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

point. The latter was prepared by the station restaurant people, who had received their orders the day before, and were “wired” at Dunblane the minute of our arrival. It was really a sort of Aladdin’s lamp affair. And how we ladies did enjoy it all! And how refreshed we felt as again the steam horse puffed away and hurried us on. The character of the scenery changes as soon as the train leaves Callander, and we now begin to watch for some of the finest specimens of Highland landscape. At least so says our other guide—not the never-to-be-forgotten one who refreshed and inspirited us with the hot tea, but the guide with the name which suggests hot East Indian dishes (Mr. Currie); one of the few delightful men who can tell you everything about every place, and yet never forces the knowledge upon you. I attach myself to him just now, and I learn that we are in the Pass of Deny, a romantic mountain gorge, whence we emerge on Loch Lubnaig. And these quiet mountain lochs— how wondrously beautiful they are ! At once mirrors for weird scenery, and suggestive of thoughts too subtle to be put into words; those that I saw to-day seemed fit bathing-pools for mermaids, if they ever live in fresh water; or miniature seas for the fairies to sail over. Yet I learn that they can be very terrible at times, when the mountain storms rush down the gorges bringing their eerie spirits with AN ODTING IN THE HIGHLANDS. 213 them. If you can remember the opening scene of the Legend of Montrose you will realise that Sir Walter well describes it, though we saw it in the noonday instead of in “the crimson beams of the western sun.” The ancient birches and oak trees are all there, and the fragments of huge rock, too. Then we view Loch Earn, whose simplicity and grandeur, whose rare loveliness, I could never make you understand, even if I quoted a whole page of description. It is one of those spots which must be seen before it can be appreciated; mountains all around, of which Benvoirlech is the loftiest; water so transparent that you get everywhere the reversed pictures; water, too, that never freezes ! What a home for mermaids ! And fringed with wood which makes the shore scenery full of beauty, aside from the mountain boundaries On we go, and then we reach Loch Awe, and find ourselves in the shadow of Ben Cruachan, one of the magnificent mountains of Argyllshire, 3390 feet high, with a base of twenty miles in circuit. Loch Awe I I try to remember what lovely lady in one of Black’s novels wants to see Loch Awe, and whose queer old husband—grand fellow, too, if I remember right—will not consent; but before my hazy memory clears up, I find myself, with the forty others, and some strangers too, aboard of the “steam-launch”— that is what they call it in the programme—a curious 214 SYLVAN RAMBLERS. affair, that looks half boat, half raft, and so little that it seems to me a giant of the olden time could have picked it up and tucked it in his pocket, as a toy for the young giants. But assured that it is safe, I seat myself where I can reach the water with my hand, and then, and then ! Oh ! for an artist’s brush and easel, with paints dyed by the heavens in summer time ! Oh ! for a poet’s pen, or the magician’s pencil! I cannot, will not, try to describe the beauties of Loch Awe; but I say to a fair young lassie beside me, “ When you are a bride come here to spend your honeymoon.” There is everything to make the picture perfect, and last, not least, the lovely islands, full from shore to shore with legends, and some with ruins that make me wild for explora- tions. How often have I said since softly to myself, “ My soul to-day is far away— Sailing Loch Awe in the sun of May.’’ The sunshine is now radiant, golden and warm, and the water is like a mirror, and the landscapes are magnificent, grey and green and gold, and old Ben Cruachan puts off his hood and shows us his noble head. Thank God for memory, when memory can picture in her walls a scene like this ! And, ere we are weary of fasting, the little creature that holds us is moored to a pier, and we land at Port- Sonnachan. We now somewhat hurry for the day is wasting AN OUTING IN THE HIGHLANDS. 215 fast, though lovely as one could ever hope for a day in May. We hasten to our “touzie tea;” and I sup- pose I must explain a “touzie tea.” Well, it is what I would call a high tea, or a tea dinner. We seat ourselves, after due preparations, in the dining-hall, which looks out on the lake, and which is beautiful and fragrant with fresh flowers—I mean the tables. We did not think we were hungry, we have been having such a feast of vision; but now we feel our appetite awakening. This is the menu of a “ touzie

UJLCHURN CASTLE. tea”:—We have roast beef, roast mutton, veal and ham pie, beefsteak pie, potatoes shaken through a sieve and looking like—I don’t know what—but really poetic; bread, butter, and what I never saw before in Scotland, American biscuits, the like of which I have made dozens of times for breakfast; and three kinds of game, and tea—strong, fragrant, hot. We revel in two delights at once, appetite and vision, and find the meal over quite too soon. And then 216 SYLVAN RAMBLERS. comes the president’s (Mr. Gibb) speech—a jewel of a speech too, a great deal in a few words, as after- dinner speeches should be. Then we adjourn to the lawn, seat ourselves in picturesque attitudes—no other adjective will be expressive enough—and our photographer’—the “ Sylvan Ramblers ” have one of their own—“takes us” in that magical, mystical second. Then away to the steam-launch, and another poetic sail amongst the romantic islands; and then away to Loch Awe pier to await our train. We have plenty of time, and we wander off and gather spring flow'ers — blue hyacinths, yellow primroses, golden whin, and “wee, modest, crimson - tipped go wans”—and my “ Man Friday” (Mr. Allan)—friend of a dozen years—gets me a rare spray of ivy; while the station-master makes me up a bouquet of garden flowers from his bounteous beds. The train comes back from Oban, and we step into our reserved carriages and are whirled away, the gloaming adding to the weird scenery an element that is half realistic and half ghostly; and we reach Callander, which has been “wired” also, for after the table and cloth and dishes and food have disap- peared, lo! the hot tea comes in, and we are refreshed and made ready for the long ride that we must yet take ere we reach our city homes. The ride is not dull or dismal, for the tea has raised up a world of merriment, and wit and humour flash about in lively AN OUTING IN THE HIGHLANDS. 217 rays. And then the songs! Oh, the dear, blessed Scotch lays ! Who can get sleepy where such quaint words and such sweet melodies ring in your ears ! And so we go on and on and on, till St. Rollox is reached, where tickets are given up. Then a rush, then a halt, then a full stop, and we are in the station, and we call out “ guid nicht.” ..... How much one can see and enjoy in sixteen hours and a half! Why, I feel as if I had been travelling for weeks, I have drank in so much ! Verily, to-day I have laid up treasures in heaven ! Wonder not that I say again and again, for I cannot sing—“ My heart’s in the Highlands.” And if you will come, bonnie lassie, or gallant laddie, we will go to the Highlands, we will sail on Loch Awe !—From the Chicago Universalist.

HOLYROOD PALACE. OBITUARY

the 17th of April, 1890, the remains of Thomas Napier were borne to their final resting-place in Sighthill Cemetery, who finally succumbed to a paralytic stroke on the 14th of February, aged seventy-two years. He was one of the originators of the Club at its formation on 7th February, 1885, and was president during the first two years. None were more enthusiastic or more regular in their attendance at the various rambles. He devoted himself to the interests of the Club, was highly respected by all who knew him, and loved and valued as a companion. A large deputation of the Ramblers attended at the funeral, aud laid a memorial wreath upon his grave. On 23rd March, 1891, Hugh Riddell passed suddenly away from amongst us, in the fifty-sixth year of his age. He was a loyal member, whose ever cheerful face inspired all who associated with him, and was justly held in esteem by his brother Ramblers, who mourn his loss. The Ramblers attended his funeral to Sighthill Cemetery on the 26th March, and placed (as they are wont to do) a memorial wreath upon his grave.

. SYLVAN KAMBLERS. 219

On the 7th June, 1891, after a painful, lingering, but patient illness, Samuel Fleming passed peace- fully over to the great majority, in the forty-seventh year of his age, in the full prime of manhood. He occupied the position of president at the time of his decease, and his loss has been keenly felt by his fellow Ramblers. The best tribute to the memory of him whose life thus sadly closed is written in the hearts of those who knew him best. He was interred in Cathcart Cemetery on the 10th June, the Ramblers attending the funeral in a body and placing the customary wreath upon the grave. The Ramblers have also to record the loss by death of the following members:—John M'Kenzie, Henry Moore, and Hugh M'Millan, who also took a warm interest in our outings. Menfberslup, •o^o»* 1885. President, - - - Thomas Napier, 207 Bath Street. Secretary, - - - William Cullen, 4 Catherine Street. Treasurer, - - - Archibald Black, 16 Minerva Street. Robert Black, 136 Holland Street. Alexander Bryson, 2 Grafton Square. Thomas Dow, 69 Stirling Road. Robert Gibb, 39 Old Dumbarton Road. James Hart, 111 John Knox Street. Thomas Hill, 110 Woodlands Road. Andrew Jordan, 139 West Graham Street. Hugh Macbeth, 26 North Portland Street. David Martin, 86 Ardgowan Street. Andrew Meiklejohn, 52 Cromwell Street- Robert M‘Donald, 148 Trongate. John M'Dougall, 70 St. Vincent Crescent. Robert Napier, Langside Road. James Robertson, 22 Melville Street. J. M. Tevindale, 148 Trongate. Thomas C. Watson, 16 Minerva Street, W. James White, 56 Rose Street, Garnethill.

1886. President, - - Thomas Napier, 207 Bath Street. Secretary, - - William Cullen, 4 Catherine Street. Treasurer, - - Andrew Meiklejohn, 52 Cromwell Street. New Members—John Adam, 14 Shamrock Street. Andrew Brown, 104 George Street. Frederick Connor, 37 Bentinck Street. John Currie, I.M., 39 Hope Street. Samuel Fleming, 39 Warwick Street. R. S. Fyfe, 10 Lilybank Road. William Gilchrist,. Mulberry House, Dumbarton Road. John Millar, 13 Garden Street. J. R. W. Stewart, M,A., 23 South Portland Street. MEMBERSHIP. 221

1887. President, . - - Thomas Hill, 110 Woodlands Road. Secretary, - - - John Currie, I.M., 39 Hope Street. Treasurer, - _ - Archibald Black, 16 Minerva Street. New Members—Colin M‘Kenzie, 7 Moore Street. John Fletcher, 3 Houldsworth Street. Robert Mitchell, 24 Howard Street, Bridgeton. James Miller, 24 Main Street, Anderston.

1888. President, - - - Alexander Bryson, 2 Grafton Square. Secretary, - - - John Currie, I.M., 39 Hope Street. Treasurer, - - - Samuel Fleming, 39 Warwick Street. New Members—Hugh Riddell, 8 Terrace Street, W. John Allan, 85 Canning Street, Calton. Edward J. Garraway, 13 Rutland Place, Govan Road.

1889. President, - - - John Adam, 14 Shamrock Street. Secretary, - - - John Currie, I.M., 39 Hope Street. Treasurer, - - . Samuel Fleming, 39 Warwick Street. New Members—Edward M‘Menemy, 1 West Street, Calton. Hugh M'Millan, 345 Pollokshaws Road. Charles Marshall. 1 Lome Terrace, Paisley Road.

1890. President, - - Robert Gibb 39 Old Dalmarnock Road. Secretary, - - John Currie, I.M., 39 Hope Street. Treasurer, - - John Allan, 85 Canning Street, Calton. New Members—John M-Kenzie, 339 Crown Street. John S. Wilson, 101 Cowcaddens Street. James Mulholland, 40 Marquis Street, E. Peter Brock, 742 Gallowgate, E. John Duncan, 129 Renfrew Street. 222 SYLVAN RAMBLERS.

1891. President, - - Samuel Fleming, 20 Maxwell Road. Secretary, - - John Currie, 102 Bath Street. Treasurer, - - Edward M‘Menemy, 21 West St., Calton. Xen< Members—Thomas Muir, 137 Dundas Street, JST. Henry Moore, 2 Whitehill Gardens, Dennistoun. William Black, 158 Garthland Drive, Dennistoun. John Hall, 791 Gallowgate. John M‘Bride, 379 Dumbarton Road.

1892. President, - - James Miller, 24 Main Street, Anderston. Secretary, - - John Currie, 102 Bath Street. Treasurer, - - Thomas C. Watson, 16 Minerva Street, W. New Members—David Riddell, 8 Terrace Street, W. John Stevenson, James Street, Bridgeton. Robert Frame, North Wallace Street. Malcolm Watson, 79 North Street. Alexander T. Donaldson, 633 Duke Street. David Legg-at, 9 Dale Street, Bridgeton. Dugald Leitch, 8 Finnieston Street, W.

A. BRYSON A CO., GLASGOW.