Sixth in size of the Scottish counties, with a coastline of sixty-two miles, two major rivers, each extending over more than eighty miles, and valleys leading to many of Scotland’s grandest mountains, Aberdeenshire offers a vast variety of scenery, together with numerous sites and memorials of historic and prehistoric interest.
The coast has some fine sandy stretches, but it is mainly savage and perilous, with rock formations terrible, spectacular and fantastic. Famous are the Bullers of Buchan, those granite cliffs with the great rocky cauldron wherein the surge, entering by a natural tunnel, roars and boils. They are not far from Cruden Bay, and six miles farther up the coasty stands Peterhead, Scotland’s most easterly town, its bleak look mitigated by its red granite, its brave fisher folk familiar with the fury of the North Sea, its giant breakwater built by convicts from the neighbouring prison. Another commodious haven is that of Fraserburgh on the north coast. In 1576, Alexander Fraser of Philorth built a little harbour, and a town grew up beside it. His castle, a square four-storied tower, stands on Kinnaird Head. Upon it, in 1787, was established one of Scotland’s earliest lighthouses. Near by, on a sea-crag, is the strange, massive “Wine Tower”; but nobody can say how it got its name.
Southwards the rugged coast runs from Girdleness, by the seaboard of Kincardine, by Stonehaven, the old fishing port now a popular seaside resort, and on by the great stronghold of Dunottar Castle, built by Sir William Keith near the end of the 14th century on the site of an earlier structure which Wallace wrested from the English forces in 1297.
Inland, the country, noted for its cattle, is dotted with small towns and villages, each with a history. None is more pleasant to visit than Huntly on the Deveron, a neatly built town, charmingly environed, its chief ancient possession the stately ruin of Strathbogie Castle, built in 1602, but retaining the vaults of a 13th century stronghold.
The Valley of the Dee, familiarly known as Deeside, is to the east what the Trossachs and Loch Lomond are to the west. In its natural aspects alone the valley presents the traveller with a memorable experience – a crescendo in mountain splendour culminating in the Cairngorms. From Aberdeen the opening is quiet: some miles of sylvan residential places, blessed with lovely vistas of the river, whose waters are of crystalline clarity by reason of their long passage over granite; but soon appear the pine-clad uplands of Banchory, where the turbulent Feugh joins the Dee. Thence the way goes, by the fine old bridge of Potarch, through Kincardine O’Neil and Aboyne, with its spacious village green, and over the Moor of Dinnet, all purple in August, to Ballater, airiest of little towns, 7000 feet above sea-level. Almost within it rises over 1200 feet woody Craigendarroch; just across the river stands Pannanich Hill; northward looms mighty Morven; southward waits “dark Lochnagar”; while around lie noble estates, mansions, green farm-lands, heathery moors and sombre expanses of deer forests. The road continues by the Royal Estate of Balmoral, to Braemar, passing Invercauld House on its green terrace, its oldest part built in the 15th century.
A few miles out of Aberdeen is the Elizabethan Drum Castle, and adjoining it the more ancient Tower of Drum, a three-storied granite Keep given by King Robert the Bruce to his armour-bearer Sir William de Irvine, whose descendants have held the estate ever since. Crathes owns a chateau-like castle founded in the 16th century. Banchory parish possesses stone circles and what may have been a Roman Camp. At Corrichie, among the hills, in 1562, Queen Mary’s troops defeated those of the rebellious Earl of Huntly, who was suffocated in his armour.
From Banchory we might take the “Slug” road over the hills to Stonehaven, pausing at the highest point of the road to admire the Cairngorms to the north before we descend and turn aside to see the Roman Camp at Raedykes.
In the opposite direction, nine miles to the north-west of Banchory, at Lumphanan, is a great cairn, where Macbeth, in flight from his army’s rout, was slain – not according to Shakespeare. At Loch Dava, by the Moor of Dinnet, are relics of a very ancient “town,” perhaps the Devana of Ptolemy. Its near neighbour, Loch Kinnord, was a crannog, an ancient lake-dwelling. Ruined Coull Castle, in the parish of the mane, reminds us of the Durwards who in the 13th century were so powerful that when a member of the family was dying the Kirk bell tolled of its own accord.
In contrast to the Dee the Don is a gentle river, wandering for most of its length through glens and by plains and meadows. It passes by many fair scenes, but none fairer than that at Monymusk, twenty miles from Aberdeen, where, at the opening of the valley, it emerges from a woody gorge, known as “My Lord’s Throat.” The prospect is dominated by Bennachie, with its many peaks, the , the shapely easterly one familiarly called the “Mither Tap” (“Mother Top”), though it is not the highest. Monymusk’s is one of the few Norman churches left in the north, and is still a place of worship. In the district are splendid and picturesque castles, inhabited or in ruins.
Between the rivers extends the City of Aberdeen, which includes Old Aberdeen, until some forty years ago an independent burgh. Its origin is misty, but at least we know it was a Bishopric early in the 12th century. Today it is a distinctly modern city. With its many towers and spires it presents to the traveller approaching from the south an impressively attractive prospect. Built of granite, standing on granite, it owns granite as one of its main industries. Through its midst runs Union Street, straight and spacious, nearly a mile long. In dull weather the grey granite buildings wear a rather severe look; under sunshine, which is the rule, they appear cheerfully dignified, sometimes beautiful.
Near the Town House stands the Mercat Cross, a hexagonal, open-arched structure in the Renaissance style, surmounted by a unicorn bearing an escutcheon exhibiting the Scottish Lion, and ornamented with medallion portraits of the seven kings who bore the name of James. The oldest possession in daily use is the Bridge of Dee, projected and endowed by Bishop Elphinstone, and built by Bishop Dunbar, four hundred years ago, and still retaining a venerable air.
Marischal (pronounced Marshal) College, the most notable piece of modern architecture, occupies the place of the original college of the name, founded in the 16th century by George Keith, fifth Earl Marischal of Scotland. In the Gothic Perpendicular style, of very pale granite, which acquires a silvery hue under sunshine or a tint less cold and as lovely in the clear twilight, it is a thing of rare grace and beauty, but set unfortunately in a somewhat drab situation.
There is no gap between “New” and Old Aberdeen, which was once known as Old Machar, and which begins in the street known as the Spital (i.e. Hospital or Hostel), beyond the dingy Gallowgate. Thence, having descended College Bounds, very steep and narrow, passing at the foot the curious Oriental gateway of Powis House, built in the day of Lord Byron, you find yourself beside the lawns and in the shadow of King’s College. Founded by Bishop Elphinstone in 1494, it had originally three towers. The remaining tower, very massive, carrying a lantern of crossed rib arches surmounted by an imperial crown and finial cross, was raised twenty years later, and rebuilt in the following century. The adjoining chapel, the choir of the early church, contains the only perfectly preserved screen and canopied stalls left to Scotland.
Just beyond the College, the thoroughfare becomes a High Street, though speed and noise do not deeply disturb its serenity.
High Street Ends at the Town House, built in 1702. Beyond it lies the Chanonry, in a hush of high-walled gardens and ancient trees.
At the foot of the road, in the open, you come upon the Cathedral of SS. Mary and Machar, beautifully situated, whose austerity is its charm. There is something unforgettable about those weather-beaten, sturdy granite towers, with their solid-looking spiky steeples, between them the tall seven-lighted window above the doorway. Of the original building, begun about 1370 and all but completed a few years before the Reformation, only these towers and the nave remain intact. Of St Machar we have the legend that he was charged by St Columba to journey northwards until he came to a river which had a bend like a crozier, and there to found a church. I have heard it averred that there was “never no such person,” yet if you will turn and go a little way up Tillydrone Road, track of the old pack-horse days, and peep over the wall, you will be looking down on a veritable crozier in the Don.
On the other side of the Chanonry, Don Street, with its antique
dwelling-houses, goes wandering down towards the river and the Brig o’
Balgownie, perhaps Scotland’s most ancient bridge, since it is said to
have been built by a bishop as a sort of peace-offering to Robert the
Bruce. With its single arch spanning a deep pool in a richly wooded
setting, it affords one of the prettiest of placid scenes in
Aberdeenshire.