Richmond dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1884-1903, 1895-10-27
TOURING SCOTLAND.
A VISIT TO THE CANTERBURY OF
THE LAND.
A Glimpse of 81. Andrews-The
Cathedral and Its Mcmortes-Arch-
bishop Sharp-The Scene or HIS
Murder.

Tribune)
| As we speed through the green ana
yellow autumn fields, northward and west
out OF Edinburgh, the huge Pentland Hills
show black in the. morning mist, and the
sombre Corstorphine looms stately and
splendid beneath a rainy sky. There
are portents of storm, but in the capri
cious cline Of Scotland the smile is close
to the tear, and we are retoiced rather
than surprised, when rolling across the
Forth Bridge, to see riffs OF blue In the
sullen clouds, and a CLINT of golden sun
shine on the smooth, dark river far be-
| low. Upon the beaches Of Burnt-island
the tide is flowing softly. in long. thin,
foamless waves that idly lapse and seem
to make no sound. Southwark. looking
across the steel-gray water OF the Forth,
we can discern the receding spires and
.domes of beautiful Edinburgh. with Ar
thurs Seat and the Pentland Mass.-like
watchful lions couched confronting In the
mist Soon We fit through gray Kirk
caldy-a name grimly famous IN Scot
fish history-gazing. as we pass. on It's
quaint church among the graves, ana
marking, far at sea, the lighthouse on
the lonely Isle OF Mary.
At Dysart we leave the coast and trend
northward, through meadows that are
fresh with verdure and among graceful
hills, crowned with green copses, and
now beginning TO glitter in the brilliant
autumn sun. No part OF Scotland Is more
carefully and tastefully cultivated and
adorned than this section OF Fife, where
every prospect eloquently denotes the gra-
cious result of many years OF industry
and thrift. Stately villas peep forth from
the woods. Low, redroofed cot'ages-the
simple and cosey abodes OF comfort-nes-
tie in the wales. Lazy cattle, many-col-
ored and picturesque, stray in the pas
lures or couch beside the dark. cool shin
Ing streams Not even In finished War
wickshire can the wanderer find gentler
pictures OF rural peace than may be
seen in Fife. At Ladybank we are almost
within the shadow OF that singular noun
tan--evldently the inspiration OF the
name--whch. With its symmetrical double
peaks, suggests a virgin bosom barred TO
The benedlction OF the sky. Next we dash
past opulent Cupar, and presently, from
busy Leuchars. where myriads of scream
ing seabirds fill the grassy moors, we
look across the bay TO the sand dures and
the crags OF st. Andrews, the gray tower
OF its ancient and famous church, and
the desolate pinnacles OF its ruined Ca
thedral. once so beautiful, always re-
nowned and still august and reverend
among the shrines OF Scotland.
A SMALL TOWN.
ST. Andrews of the present is a small
gray town, built mostly OF stone, perched
on a promontory overlooking heNnorthern
ocean, and devoted in part TO learning
and in part 10 sport. Its four principal
streets, like the ribs OF an outspread fan,
~. of a rfffnG1 q
and cathedral on It's eastern shore, and
those streets are interlaced with lateral
causeways, and diversified with occasional
squares. Upon one side Of the promon-
tory the surges OF q wild sea break in
stormy music on beach and crag. Upon
the other rising from the bed of tiny
river, O moorland shelves away, TO a
circle OF low hills. Northward, across
the broad waste of sparkling water rises
the shore OF Forfarshire. stretching from
Buddon Ness toward Montrose. while far
to the eastward CLEANS the lighthouse
on the lonely Bell Rock.
The living sights OF the town are the
colleges and the Golf Links. Ii is not,
however, for living sights that the pilgrim
seeks ST. Andrews, but for the associa-
lions that cluster round its ruins. and
for the thoughts that are prompted by
remembrance of its past. ST. Andrews
IS to Scotland what Canterbury is to
England-the emblem OF q vast civic con-
fict and a national tragedy-and as you
stand I'm the roohess nave OF its once
glorious, now desolate Cathedral, and see
the moss and the trembling wild flowers
on its broken walls, and hear the moan
of the wind, through its lofty null
lioned easements and around It's crumb-
ling turrets, so softly restful to your eyes,
you forget the present. and remember
only the princes and prelates OF by
gone age the zealots who fought, and
the martyrs who persisted, and all tina
misery and all the pathos of the ancient
battle--long over and done with now
for liberty Of conscience and of faith.
St Andrews was the centre OF that
contention, and IL is replete with It's
relies.
In the dreadful dungeon. stu visible,
I'm the sea-tower OF its Castle. Wishart
WAS held a captive, until burned-for
heresy--in front OF the Castle gates, while
Cardinal Beaton and HIS companions or
the Church looked on, eNultant, at
martyrs death. The old guide VINO now
lowers his lighted candle into that foul
abyss and garrulously prattles OF It's hor-
rors might make a tanner theme gro
tesque: but his is wholly tragic, and not
even comic volubllity can dlssipate itS
gloom. Into that bottle-shaped pit kirk-
caldy, OF Grange. and his fierce ccnteder-
ates cast the body OF Beaton, and Tapped
II with sat, after they had murdered MIN
in his bedroom OF the Castle, and dam
gled his dead corpse from the battle
ments. The windows OF the Cardinals
rooms, in the great tower, still look Upon
the town. From that Castle. when taken
by the French. John Knox was carried
away into his captivity In the gllleys.
Not much remains Of the grim old struc-
ture now. but. perched as IL was upon a
PERCEPTIONS crag. jutting into the sea, WIN
broad, deep moat around It's landWard
sides, ii must have been citadel or
prodigious fortitude: and IL Is formidable
even in its ruin. The waves were break
ing angriy at its base, and all the sea,
for many miles around. was white with
wreaths OF foam, as l looked down upon
II from the windy height OF st. Ruhe's
Tower and in the oifing q single snip,
with her sails ciose-reefed, was heavily
tossing on the surge. Just such spec
tacle may often have been seen from us
battlements by Edward Ballot, or Queen
Mary Stuart. or the Regent Murray. 1t
was long the abode OF princes before
IL became the home of priests. Beaton.
as he trod its ramparts, looked forth TO
many a balefu! blaze OF the fagots kin
died By his cruelty for the burning OF
men whose faith was not as his. Knox
gazed from IL upon the Cathedral that
he hated, and that he was destined TO
destroy. II was in the Town Church OF
st. Andrews-still extant and still noble
and most characteristic and interesting
ecclesiastical building-tnat Knox preach
ed the renowned sermon upon Reforma-
ton which presently caused the destruc-
ton of the Cathedral, and OF the beat
tiful churches of the Black and Gray
Frlars; and the pulpit in which he preach