BALLOCH AND AROUND By JAMES BARR Part 1 It may be asked, what have I got to say regarding Balloch, farther than can be found in the already published histories? I may say that I intend to encroach very little on what has transpired before my day, but events have occurred since, and I am loath to think of them drifting to the oblivious gulf without any attempt being made to effect at least a temporary rescue. I was born and lived about a quarter of a century, in the neighbourhood of Balloch, and my memory reaches back to a point some years beyond the allotted three-score-and-ten. The world of these days may be regarded as, in some respects, centuries behind that known to the present generation. James Watt was then living, consequently that marvellous innovator, the steam engine was only in its infancy. Henry Bell was still in the vigour of manhood, and steamboats were just beginning to paddle about the shores of the Clyde. Stephenson was not heard of for many years afterwards, and such a thing as a public railway had no existence. The only means by which we could see our way through the winter darkness was by the aid of the tallow candles and oil lamps; gas and electric lights being held in reserve for later generations. Photography being then unknown, the great mass of the people went their way without leaving any other memorial of their personal lineaments than that impressed on the memories of those soon to follow them to the realms of forgetfulness. America was then about two months from our shores, news from India was always at least three months old, and China may be said to have been out of ken altogether. Recent inventions have, as it were, caused the earth to shrink greatly in size; as formerly to go round it was a rare achievement of two or three years. Now it is a frequent holiday excursion of two or three months. The nations have been, as it were, drawn together, so as to be virtually within earshot of each other. The idea of such a thing as the present newspaper had not then come within the day-dreams of the most sanguine progressionists. The powers that rules banished poachers, hanged for offences which would now be considered sufficiently punished by a fortnight's imprisonment, and dealt with rebellious Radicals by first hanging them, and then chopping off their heads. To show how narrow our escape had been from barbarism itself, it may be noted that there were then living amongst us, some who had not only heard the firing of Prince Charlie's army while on its way to Culloden, but had lived in the days of Rob Roy, and may have seen him in the flesh. Even in a historical point of view, we inherited a special and most important record, coming down through at least eight centuries. During much of that time, the titular Earls of Lennox held a first position in the government of the country, and gallantly led the .Men of Lennox. to innumerable battlefields, among others to Bannockburn, where their valour exorted admiration from the great King Robert himself.
OUR CENTRAL POINT In commencing our narrative we cannot do better than take our stand at the Balloch Hotel, the white walls of which then, as now, partially veiled by the shadows of three large ash trees, give it a very inviting appearance. With some additions it is still the same house, then known as Balloch Inn, which words were conspicuously blazoned on a swinging sign board at the southern corner. The term “hotel” was not then imported from France, at least had not found its way so far north as Dunbartonshire till a quarter of a century later. The probability is that, judging from its architectural aspect, this house must have been built about the beginning of , the present century; but from the fact, that a ferry being there from time immemorial, there must also have been a ferry house, and, as usual, a hostelry. From this elevated sight we have a comprehensive and highly interesting prospect, embracing a portion of the lower end of Loch Lomond, with the River Leven .devolving from the parent lake., where, as the poet characteristically describes it, “A charming maze its waters make” It soon, however, settles into a deep and placid sheet, gliding majestically on in unruffled, graceful sweep, round the small island, passing the hotel, and at a distance of fully half-a-mile is lost to view amid an attractive mingling of fields and woods. After this it has a long course of devious windings over its pebbly bed ere it loses itself in the Clyde at Dumbarton Castle.
At the period we refer to there was no bridge over the Leven save at Dumbarton, passage across, both at Bonhill and Balloch being by boat, and at the latter only for vehicles and cattle. At Bonhill the current was sufficiently strong to propel a boat held by, and swinging from, a chain fastened in the middle of the river, some distance further up; which arrangement was not suitable for heavy traffic. At Balloch the comparative stillness of the water admitted of a small rowboat for passengers. Another consisted of a broad flat platform, with high perpendicular sides, in which more than one vehicle could at the same time be accommodated. Its propulsion was effected by means of a heavy chain stretching across, and lying at the bottom of the river, save at the point where it was raised to pass over small iron cylinders at each end of the upper gunwhale; motion being given by men walking from end to end, and pulling at this chain. If we can imagine the bridge, together with the railway station, and all other buildings on the west side (with the exception of one long, low house, called Ferryhill) swept away, we fairly restore the Balloch of seventy or eighty years ago. South of this, on the west bank of the river, there has been little change,
the towing-path and the wood of Tullichewan remaining much as they were.
The mansion-house, or castle, so pleasantly situated behind these woods,
was there so far back as my memory serves, but some still live who can
remember the building of it. In the year 1792, Mr. John stirling, of Cordale,
purchased the estate from the Colquhouns of Luss. At a later date the
Stirlings proceeded with the erection of the castle, but business misfortunes
prevented them from carrying it to completion. The first occupant was
an English gentleman named Harrocks, who had no business connections in
that part of the country, but he and his family remained in it many years.
In 1”43 the estate and castle were purchased by Mr. William Campbell,
father of the present proprietor, one of the most liberal minded and philanthropic
citizens Glasgow ever possessed. On the east bank the buildings nearest the Inn were the smith and joiner works of Mr. Jas. Nairn, father of the present occupant, Mr. John Nairn. The neat and substantial villa of Bankhead was not then in existence. Lennoxbank House, which, from its mature and venerable aspect, leads many to regard as a relic of the dead ages, was also a thing of the future; but a short distance south of it stood a small, single storey cottage, which accommodated two families, each having a 'but and a ben”. In this house the writer of these lines was born, consequently this forms the pivot on which, for at least the first decade of his life, experiences turned. In those days the road to Balloch Ferry passed close by this cottage, and onward through the site of the existing mansion, the new or present road being afterwards formed some distance behind, as to give sufficient space for the proposed erection, and the adjoining planting. After the new road was completed, part of the old one was for some time left open without any barrier raised to prevent travellers or vehicles from being precipitated into the excavations, which were of considerable depth. One dark night we were alarmed by the sound of a passing carriage, which
had, by mistake, got upon the old road. There was The situation of this little house was in every respect well fitted for
our juvenile enjoyment. Among other items, it afforded us practical lessons
in natural history, which we could learn at first hand. From our back
window we looked down a lengthy slope of garden ground to an extensive
bog or bay, which now forms the gardens between Lennoxbank House and the
river. This bog was prolific of rushes, reeds, and a profusion of aquatic
vegetation.
Whatever may have been his success as a fisher of men we know not, but at all events he, on one occasion, brought home with him a considerable quantity of old fishing hooks, took undisputed permission to set them in the bog, and the result was an important accession to the family larder in the commodity of pike. That this fresh-water shark is valuable as an article of diet may be argued from the fact that most of James' seven or eight sons attained to a stature of six feet, and the four daughters to a proportionate height. In winter, when the lake and river were swollen by rains and the melting of snow on the mountains, the bog was overflowed so as to leave no perceptible distinction between it and the ordinary channel. There was thus a considerable expanse of water, and I can well remember that, in windy, winter weather, the waves rose so high as to swish in white foam along the foot of our garden. During these seasons flocks of wild ducks and other water fowls ventured down from the loch, and there wheeled and dived in pursuit, no doubt, of their own interests; but at the same time to our high gratification while watching them. They were, however, shy and jealous, as well as they might, for there were firearms about, and men who could use them. The result was that many of these interesting, industrious and quick-winged creatures never returned to their fishing grounds among the isles.
The Ford Dalvait and Levenbank Looking North Taking our stand as before, and looking up the river, we have, as has been already said, a glimpse of the lower portion of the lake, with the mansion houses of Cameron and Arden in the middle distance, and the opening to Glen Fruin in the not very remote distance. The first mentioned of these is, and has been, the seat of the Smollett family since 1762, and has a special interest attached to it from the fact that Tobias Smollett poet, novelist, and historian, was one of its members. His birthplace, however, was near the village of Renton, not far from
the monument there erected to his memory, but the particular house has
long disappeared. Tobias, as may be learned from his celebrated “Humphrey
Clinker”, visited Cameron House in the year 1766, while on a tour
north in search of health. Seven years afterwards Dr. Samuel Johnson,
and his future biographer, Boswell, on their return from the Highlands,
stayed a night, and the surly pedant was pleased to say that “here
they had more solid conversation than at any other place where they had
been.” They had been at Rossdhu some day or days previously, had
been provided with a boat, and weLe much pleased in sailing among the
isles. When they reached any green spots, however, Johnson was disgusted
to find them rough, when he, no doubt, expected them to be smooth and
level as a London park. Sir James Colquhoun had them conveyed in his coach
to cameron, and it is added, “our satisfaction was very great, and
we were delighted that we had returned to civilisation.” By this
time the celebrated novelist had been about two years dead. His cousin,
proprietor of Cameron, had just erected to his memory the monument at
Renton and had procured an inscription in English to be put on it. Johnson
got angry at the thought of an English inscription. “Surely, he
said, “it was not meant for Highland drovers, or other such people
as pass and repass that way.” He then at once sat down and composed
one in Latin, which, with some alterations was adopted, and may still
be seen on the monument. He had served in the Navy during the days of Nelson, but how far he ma¥
have shared in, or been associated with, the memorable achievements of
that great hero, we never learned. One story then current enough, was
to the effect that he served on board the same ship with the Duke of Clarence,
afterwards King William IV., that they quarrelled and fought, and that
Smollett had the best of it. PART II I may here say that, many years ago, there appeared in the Scotsman newspaper, a dissertation on piscatorial literature, in which it was asserted that poets and novelists seldom'wrote from personal experience and in order to substantiate this, the .Ode to Leven was specially instanced. It was there said that Smollett knew little or nothing about the various species of the finny tribe, but had his information from a particular dictionary, the name of which was given. The truth is, if Tobias Smollett required to have recourse to a dictionary to aid him in describing the salmon, the trout, the par, or any other of the fishes referred to in his poem, he must have been the dullest boy that every roved on Levens banks, or laved his limbs in the transparent wave. I hesitate not to say that there was not another boy of six or seven years of age then, or long after, living on the banks of the Leven who could not have, from personal observation, supplied the poet with all the information made use of, and a great deal more than he considered necessary for his purpose. Indeed, this little poem gives evidence in every line that its author know the river thoroughly in all its characteristics along its entire course, and is as perfect an example of the .realistic. as can be found in native poesy. No doubt great changes have taken place since his day. There was at least one bleachfield (Dalquhurn) then by the river, but no printfield till some years afterwards. “The milkmaids chanting oer the pail, have long been silent and unseen. The rivers bed, with white, round, polished pebbles spread, is now in great part laid with a carpet of turkey red, and the scaly brood, which still occasionally attempt to make their way to the lake, are frequently poisoned by the chemical compounds that escape from the factories. What made this house specially noteworthy was the circumstance of its containing the only authentic portrait of Rob Roy; Historians and other writers, while speaking of “Honest Rab”, have seldom failed to mention this as an undoubted fact. As Rob is one of the most popular heroes Scotland ever produced, I, at an early age felt an ardent desire to see the invaluable work of art. Learning from the late Mr. George Douglas, watchmaker, then in Bonhill, that, he required to go professionally to Arden on a certain day, I was happy to find there was no reason why I should not accompany him. To Arden we went, the occupant then being Mr. George Buchanan, son and successor of Herbert. On the picture being mentioned, Mr. Buchanan was pleased not merely to show it, but took it from the wall that we might be better able to make a thorough examination. At the same time, he seemed to have no faith in its authenticity as a bona fide portrait from the life. He characterised it as “a thing his father had picked up in some Glasgow saleroom”, but there was no guarantee whatever that the artist had ever seen the bold outlaw. It was a small picture in water colour representing a kilted Highlander in fighting attitude, with his sword raised, and in the background some cottages in flames. A flat front view showing “length of arm and strength of limb”
enough and, so far as I was then able to judge, not badly drawn. The idea
of it being only a fancy picture was a great disappointment, as I expected
to have had undoubted confirmation of what I had often before read, and
have since seen frequently repeated in print. Arden is situated almost
at the entrance to Glen Fruin, where occurred the dreadful slaughter of
Colquhouns by the MacGregors in the year 1592. Rossdhu is about two miles
farther on, but not visible from Balloch. Dumbartonshire representatives. At a much later date Mr. Buchanan's neighbour across the loch, the late Alexander Smollett, was M.P. for the county. He, too, was a Tory of the most pronounced type.It is on record that he also made a speech and moved a resolution, but with less success. A member following him expressed his inability to understand what the hon. gentleman meant. Mr. Disraeli, afterwards Lord Beaconsfield, next rose and said he was not surprised at the remark of the last speaker, as it was evident the hon. member who moved “the resolution did not himself know what he meant.” It is surely an act of cold-blooded cruelty on the part of “Dizzy” to treat one of his staunchest supporters so unhandsomely. But that was perhaps a necessary step in his method of educating his party, which he said he required to do. At all events, he “dishedw our respected M.P. from making further efforts in the House. PART III The late Sir James Colquhoun had his turn of the position of member of
Parliament for the county, and sat for a short time; but although he voted
Liberal there is no reason to suppose that he ever gave the House an opportunity
of judging whether he had a voice at all. What has occurred lately does
not materially modify our assertion, but Dumbartonshire may take comfort
from the adage that silence is golden. We must not forget, however, that
on one occasion, Dumbartonshire had 4 real orator for its representative,
and, at the same time, the most deceptive that ever was entrusted with
the honour. That one was a Mr. Colquhoun of Killermont. The hospitality of the laird was unbounded. Visitors of distinction were many, and among these the world-renowned author of .Waverley. then in the full blaze of his fame. He enjoyed in Mr. Buchanan's barge an excursion on the lake, and the oarsmen used afterwards to astonish their friends by saying that Sir walter knew far more about the loch than they did, although they had been about it all their days. No person acquainted with the biography of Scott can be astonished at this. The White Dyke By many this was considered an infringement of a public right. demonstration, however, took place, but one morning it was discovered that a wide gap had been made in the wall, and the dislodged stones hurled into the water. Who the perpetrators were was never publicly known, but it was supposed to have been the work of the salmon fishers engaged farther down the river. They considered they had, and probably they really had, a legal right to passage by the shore, but the matter never was contested in a law court. At all events, an opening in the dyke was afterwards made, and a gate placed it, by which access to the grounds was allowed, but this has long been withdrawn. The Old Castle of Balloch It must here be mentioned that in the wood, a short distance beyond the
wall, stood the old castle of Balloch, for many centuries the residence
of the Earls and Dukes of Lennox, who figure so prominently in Scottish
history. Indeed, as already said, all the monarchs who have occupied the
throne of Britain for the last three hundred years have had Lennox blood
in their veins. It was brought about in this wise. A Duke of Lennox, who
was Governor of Dumbarton Castle, was detected in a treasonable conspiracy
to place Scotland under the sway of the English monarch Henry VIII, of
infamous memory. He took refuge in England, and as a reward for his treacherous
efforts was allowed to marry a niece of that monarch. He remained in exile
about twenty years. Being recalled by Mary Queen of Scots, he was soon
after followed by his son, Lord Darnley, whom Mary subsequently married,
and the story of their lives and deaths forms the most thrilling and tragic
episode in British history. It will thus be seen that Lord Darnley was
nephew to The Cairn One version was that eleven ladies connected with the Lennox family had gone to bathe at this point. One went beyond her depth, another attempted rescue, she in turn was followed by another, and so on until the whole eleven went in, and all were drowned. To commemorate this sad event the cairn was said to have been raised. It was also said that this circumstance conferred the name Leven upon the river, but this must be a mistake. Another version was due to the effect that the cairn had some connection with salmon fishing, a strong post being placed upon it to which one end of a net was attached, and from the other end a rope was carried to the castle and connected with a bell, so that when large fish got entangled in the net their struggles rang the bell, and, of course, their own doom. Whether these legends are purely mythic, or have some foundation in fact, it is now impossible to know, but in earlier days they were seriously credited, and had been transmitted from sire to son through many generations. Another, and apparently a more favoured residence of the Lennox family
was Inchmurrin, from which many of the Lennox charters have been dated.
Of this we may have something to say farther on. Boturich Castle I, and many of my compeers, turned aside when on stealthy visits to the surrounding woods at nutting season, or when our projected destination was Mount Misery. What afforded us a great amount of pleasure was the ample kitchen, with its arched roof entire, and th4 huge fireplace, on which our imaginations revelled when conjuring the glorious roasts that must, in the good old times, have crackled there. This castle and grounds at that period formed part of the Balloch estate, but Mr. Findlay, grandfather of the present proprietor, married a daughter of Mr. Buchanan, and by him the castle was restored and occupied. Mount Misery How this little hill, rising immediately behind Boturich castle, should have been dubbed Mount Misery, has been a puzzle to all scribes who have had occasion to refer to it. But whatever the origin of its name from its summit may be enjoyed one of the most enchanting this kingdom prospects that can be met within this kingdom Indeed it would appear that nature had placed it there as the grand stand-point
from which the lake can be viewed in all its extent and magnificence.
As seen from it the lake is of triangular shape, the base extending from
Glen Fruin on the west bank, to Balmaha on the east, a distance of seven
or eight miles. About mid-way on this line stands Mount Misery, and directly
in front of the spectator the water stretches out to the apex, more than
twenty miles distant; the two converging sides being formed by ranges
of mountains Within this grand mountain frame are enchantingly grouped no fewer than twenty islands, some of them more than a mile in length, all varying in size and form; some flat, others hilly, some thickly studded with trees and shrubs, and all delightfully variegated with brown and purple heath, and patches of green sward, with here and there long streaks of shining shore. In autumn especially there are to be seen effects of colour which mortal palette never has nor ever will approach. Balloch Inn Balloch Inn had for its host and hostess in those early days the well known Adam Walker and his better known wife. She was the ruling spirit, and in may respects well qualified for the position. From the circumstance of Adam being her husband she was usually designated Eve, and had her primogenitor been morally as stern and unyielding, a great catastrophe might have been prevented. She was rather short in stature, but of considerable beam; in facial aspect full, but not rubicund, as those similarly situated are apt to be; of active, bustling gait and manner, and possessed of a temper which made her somewhat more feared than loved. The house was kept in scrupulous order, and as she had in early days been cook in a family of note, was quite capable of providing appropriately the creature Comforts for whatever greatness might find its way thither. Adam, who was personally of spare habit and wiry, had the good sense to refrain from interfering in any matters apart from the stables. He had, however, occasional transactions in sheep, regarding which he was considered an authority of the first rank. Like everybody else in those days he had no aversion to what is called the “national beverage”, but not to any unusual extent. A rather free indulgence was so common in those days as to prevent any stigma from being publicly attached to an occasional aberration. The bottle was considered an indispensable adjunct in every house, from the highest to the lowest. An idea prevailed to the effect that as a safeguard against fevers, a person should be intoxicated at least twice a year. It was told of a former host of the same Inn that being seized with a severe internal inflammation, a doctor was summoned from Dumbarton; the patient was freely bled, and afterwards doctor and patient drank together till both got oblivious. Adam's freaks under such circumstances were sometimes amusing enough. On one occasion, while I and others were sauntering in the neighbourhood,
our attention was arrested by some peculiar sounds, and on looking towards
the Inn there was Adam in shirt sleeves, arms akimbo, stalking hurriedly
backwards and forwards, and in his irony Highland accents bewailing his
hard fate, of which we were enabled to judge by his oft repeated phrase
–“Aye, ay! that's the way my money's spent.. He evidently
felt himself a deeply injured, if not an utterly ruined man, and the word
'my' was most emphatically pronounced. At the same time his better half
issued from the front door, walked smartly past him towards a carriage
standing at the corner, handed coachee a very thick sandwich, and tendered
her instructions. When the vehicle was driven off, she leisurely returned,
and while passing her still bewailing husband, she faced towards us and
burst into a hearty laugh. We all understood that laugh quite well as
if she had ironically repeated the words, his money We knew that whatever
pile there might be to her chiefly the credit was due. It is only justice
to both to say that during their long possession the Inn was most respectable
and efficiency conducted. They had a family of a son and two daughters.
The son died when young. The daughters were married, and for aught I know
may still be living. Having accumulated a competency and when age was
beginning to assert itself in the usual way, the widely-respected host
and hostess retired to a sheep farm called Glenmolochan, in the glen of
Luss, where, in that quiet and secluded retreat their mortal span was
extended to a ripe age. A notable feature in connection with the district was the annual fair. As a market for horses, Balloch Fair was almost a national institution, and still retains considerable importance. Horses were brought to it from all parts of the country; buyers gravitated from an equally wide area, and, consequently, large sums of money there changed hands. Locally, the Fair was one of the three permanent annual holidays, the Bonhill Sacramental Fast Day and New Year’s Day being the other two. As there were then no railways, the Fair was not altogether an affair of one day. “Gangrel bodies”, such as “sweetie wives” and other small dealers, from Glasgow and paisley, arrived a day or two previously, and contrived to find shelter for the night in houses of the poorer classes of the neighbourhood. But the great heterogeneous mass of stall keepers, to be in time, required to travel during the night. There was no means of conveyance from Glasgow but by a morning steamer to Dumbarton, and as five miles still required to be compassed on foot, a valuable portion of the day was lost before the ground could be reached. The show caravans arrived the previous day, and so numerous were they that, on being ranged and rigged out, they made a display of scenic grandeur which would have done no discredit to Glasgow Fair in its palmy days at the foot of the Saltmarket. In front and around the shows the ground was studded over with tents
for the sale of beer and whisky. There was, on that day, no enforced excise
prohibition; therefore, a few poles, a plank or two for seats, an old
blanket, a jar of whisky and a few glasses, were all one required to become
a spirit dealer for the day. Thus it was that on the previous evening
a clank of busy hammers, nailing up rafters, could be heard far into the
night.
Almost all the inhabitants of the Vale were there; lads with their lasses,
husbands with their wives and children, old and young, masters and servants,
all in Sunday garb, and all prepared to give and receive treat in a spirit
of liberality worthy of the age and of
To add to the visual attractions of the Fair, the oratory was overwhelming, each vendor behind his stall, basket, or pack, or from his cart, expatiating at the utmost pitch of his voice on the transcendent merits and cheapness of his wares. The shows, also, in addition to their scenic glories, had their nymph dancers, their stenterian orators of the .walk up: just about to commence. type, with drumming and brass band stormings in ceaseless energy. If effort and earnest endeavour are deserving of success, the claims of these various professionals were very high indeed. The horse dealing was all done quietly in the field behind the shows, the multitude of recreation and sight seekers taking little interest in the matter.
The smith was, however, considerably the worse of liquor, and bystanders interfered to prevent further action. Although not a little fighting was done within my recollection, accounts by people much older represented a still more animated state of matters in their young days. Colquhouns, MacGregors, MacFarlanes, and co. came down from their native mountains, and although not there purposely to quarrel, they often did, and several encounters were sometimes the result. It is possible that Rob Roy may have made his presence seen and felt there, but of that there is no record. The perils of the Fair were, it might have been supposed, sufficiently imminent to, in a great measure, neutralised the pleasure. Douce and decent men, with their wives and children, might be seen struggling in consternation through the crowd, and making continual efforts to avoid horses and vehicles. “0. there's a horse”. “Whar's Maggy?” “Maggy, whars Kristy?” “Kirsty, wharfs patty?” and such like shouting by the anxious and excited mothers, as they ran from spot to spot, dragging their candyrock-chewing progeny after them into corners of safety, there to abide till an opportunity offered for renewed attempts at progress. Scenes of this nature were common during the greater part of the day, and even on the highway, after leaving the Fair, such fears haunted them till they found themselves safely at home. How such experiences had not the effect of preventing parents from taking their children thither is difficult to conceive; but to face difficulties and risk dangers were secondary matters compared with not being at the Fair. Such, then, was the Balloch Fair, or Moss 0' Balloch, as locally termed, of my early remembrance. It is probable that the bridge and the railway may have modified the conditions, but having been a stranger to it these fifty years, I cannot speak from personal observation. Apart altogether from the sale of horses, there must have been a large amount of money carried away by the showmen and the numerous stall keepers who considered it worth their while to come so far for a single day's transactions in a sparsely peopled country district. The Fair has been in existence for centuries, as old charters testify. From the most recent newspaper reports it appears to still retain its prestige of first-class importance as a horse market, buyers and sellers in considerable numbers, from all parts of the country, being present. A Common Lounge In ordinary days the ferry shore was a common lounge for work people in the evenings, and for idlers at all hours of the day, as there was always a chance of seeing something out of the usual routine, and abundant opportunities for loitering on the grassy banks; adults to smoke and chat, and juveniles like myself to wade, skip stones, and do any little bit of mischief that might conveniently come in the way. very little custom was, however, given to Mrs. walker, who did not encourage common tippling, and gained her point by charging a higher price for her liquors than in the ordinary public houses. One feature of special interest to such parties was the starting and returning, morning and evening, of the steamer for Loch Lomond. The First Steamer At this period the first and. for eight or ten years, the only steamer on the Loch was the Marion. I was her senior by a year or so, but she was on the station as far back as my recollection serves. She was among the first steamers built, and much in accord with the model of Henry Bell's comet, which may be seen in the Glasgow Museum in the West-End Park. Broad and flat, with roof of cabin raised considerably higher than the deck, and her squat appearance being considerably increased by a projecting gangway on each side, extending from the paddle-box to the stern, and protected by strong wooden railing outside. The steering was effected by means of a long iron tiller, the wheel now universally in use not being then invented. She had an engine of twenty horse power, with walking beam oscillating from the centre, like the usual land engine. Her original owner was Mr. David Napier, but in my remotest remembrance she was owned, or, perhaps, only partly owned by Mr. John Stuart, proprietor of Levenbank Print Works. When the sailing season was ended she’ was moored for the winter months in the lade leading to the works, where most of her crew were during the interval employed. Balloch was the usual starting place, but in times of drought, when the river fell, it was necessary to keep her constantly in the loch; that portion of the route, fully half a mile, being effected by means of a lighter or scow, propelled by the use of long poles. Tourists from Glasgow were conveyed by a steamer to Dumbarton, thence by coaches on the west side of the river to Balloch. Fare from this for the days sailing was 7s 6d, and frequently the Marion was taxed to the full extent of her carrying capacity. As may well be surmised, the company was for the most part very select. Speed in those days was not the all important matter it has now become, nor had it been a special consideration in the steamers construction. All she could accomplish in one day was from Balloch to Rob Roy'S cave and back, holding her course by the west end of Inchmurrin, and thus avoiding the long detour by Balmaha. PART V Regard to Rob Roy's Cave, I heard an old man who knew the loch long before
its waters were disturbed by a paddle wheel, affirm Rob had never been
in it, and that it was doubtful if he knew even of its existence. The
account he gave of it was; when~he steamer was about to commence plying,
the captain and other interested parties proceeded up the loch in a small
boat for the purpose of exploring the shores, in expectation of finding
some spot where the vessel could be laid alongside and a landing effected
without the aid of ferry boats. Having come accidentally upon the opening,
it occurred to them that it might be a good ruse to associate it with
the
Some of our greatest men, such as Tobias Smollett, Sir Walter Scott,
Professor Wilson, Dr. Thomas Chalmers, and Lord Francis Jeffrey were frequent
sojourners on its banks, and while writing about it have carried their
admiration to the borders of rhapsody itself. In bleak and stormy weather,
however, the effects were far from inspiring celestial ideas. No doubt,
in clear, breezy weather, the ever varying effects of sun and shade upon
the hills and islands, which the late Horatio McCulloch could so well
simulate with his brush, afford intense pleasure to all who have any capacity
for the enjoyment of the beautiful in nature. But in gloomy and boisterous
days, when only great black ridges or mountain shoulders were bare and
there seen as if forcing their way from the midst of whirling, misty billows,
the suggestions were of openings from the nether regions, rather than
anything of a pleasurable nature. In such cases the strong, white-crested
waves on the lake rushed to a considerable height, and made it dangerous
to venture, especially with sailing boats, among the islands. Consequently, in my youthful days, sails in pleasure boats were rarely
used. On one occasion the prospect was so threatening that the new steamer,
Lady of the Lake, would not venture from her
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