One
of the birds that frequent this rock has, as we were told, its body
not larger than a duck's, and yet lays eggs as large as those of a
goose. This bird is by the inhabitants named a Coot. That which
is called Coot in England, is here a Cooter.
Upon these rocks there was nothing that could long detain
attention, and we soon turned our eyes to the Buller, or Bouilloir
of Buchan, which no man can see with indifference, who has either
sense of danger or delight in rarity. It is a rock perpendicularly
tubulated, united on one side with a high shore, and on the other
rising steep to a great height, above the main sea. The top is
open, from which may be seen a dark gulf of water which flows into
the cavity, through a breach made in the lower part of the
inclosing rock. It has the appearance of a vast well bordered with
a wall. The edge of the Buller is not wide, and to those that walk
round, appears very narrow. He that ventures to look downward
sees, that if his foot should slip, he must fall from his dreadful
elevation upon stones on one side, or into water on the other. We
however went round, and were glad when the circuit was completed.
When we came down to the sea, we saw some boats, and rowers, and
resolved to explore the Buller at the bottom. We entered the arch,
which the water had made, and found ourselves in a place, which,
though we could not think ourselves in danger, we could scarcely
survey without some recoil of the mind. The bason in which we
floated was nearly circular, perhaps thirty yards in diameter. We
were inclosed by a natural wall, rising steep on every side to a
height which produced the idea of insurmountable confinement. The
interception of all lateral light caused a dismal gloom. Round us
was a perpendicular rock, above us the distant sky, and below an
unknown profundity of water. If I had any malice against a walking
spirit, instead of laying him in the Red-sea, I would condemn him
to reside in the Buller of Buchan.
But terrour without danger is only one of the sports of fancy, a
voluntary agitation of the mind that is permitted no longer than it
pleases. We were soon at leisure to examine the place with minute
inspection, and found many cavities which, as the waterman told us,
went backward to a depth which they had never explored. Their
extent we had not time to try; they are said to serve different
purposes. Ladies come hither sometimes in the summer with
collations, and smugglers make them storehouses for clandestine
merchandise. It is hardly to be doubted but the pirates of ancient
times often used them as magazines of arms, or repositories of
plunder.
To the little vessels used by the northern rovers, the Buller may
have served as a shelter from storms, and perhaps as a retreat from
enemies; the entrance might have been stopped, or guarded with
little difficulty, and though the vessels that were stationed
within would have been battered with stones showered on them from
above, yet the crews would have lain safe in the caverns.
Next morning we continued our journey, pleased with our reception
at Slanes Castle, of which we had now leisure to recount the
grandeur and the elegance; for our way afforded us few topics of
conversation. The ground was neither uncultivated nor unfruitful;
but it was still all arable. Of flocks or herds there was no
appearance. I had now travelled two hundred miles in Scotland, and
seen only one tree not younger than myself.
BAMFF
We dined this day at the house of Mr. Frazer of Streichton, who
shewed us in his grounds some stones yet standing of a druidical
circle, and what I began to think more worthy of notice, some
forest trees of full growth.
At night we came to Bamff, where I remember nothing that
particularly claimed my attention. The ancient towns of Scotland
have generally an appearance unusual to Englishmen. The houses,
whether great or small, are for the most part built of stones.
Their ends are now and then next the streets, and the entrance into
them is very often by a flight of steps, which reaches up to the
second story, the floor which is level with the ground being
entered only by stairs descending within the house.
The art of joining squares of glass with lead is little used in
Scotland, and in some places is totally forgotten. The frames of
their windows are all of wood. They are more frugal of their glass
than the English, and will often, in houses not otherwise mean,
compose a square of two pieces, not joining like cracked glass, but
with one edge laid perhaps half an inch over the other. Their
windows do not move upon hinges, but are pushed up and drawn down
in grooves, yet they are seldom accommodated with weights and
pullies. He that would have his window open must hold it with his
hand, unless what may be sometimes found among good contrivers,
there be a nail which he may stick into a hole, to keep it from
falling.
What cannot be done without some uncommon trouble or particular
expedient, will not often be done at all. The incommodiousness of
the Scotch windows keeps them very closely shut. The necessity of
ventilating human habitations has not yet been found by our
northern neighbours; and even in houses well built and elegantly
furnished, a stranger may be sometimes forgiven, if he allows
himself to wish for fresher air.
