Diary of Charles Francis Adams, 1861
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1861-09-26
Shortly after breakfast I took my leave of the friendly family, and as the tower clock struck ten, the carriage rolled from the porch before the door. Lord Amberley predicted cold and rain and every discomfort during the long drive, but such proved not to be the case. The clouds parted, and the sun shone as I went along the stages, one of the eleven miles, the second of fifteen and the third of twenty, to Blair Gowrie, a station of a side railroad244 which runs into the main track between Aberdeen and Edinburgh. Of those stages the second was far the most interesting, as it embraced the pass over the highlands. The road lady along the bank of a small stream that forms the Dee narrowing into a brook as we went and at last coming to the head, where are no habitations, and with the exceptions of a few sheep not a sign of life. It was plain that there had been dwellings in earlier days, but nothing was left of them but a few stones of the foundations. The land was rocky and barren, but picturesque from the diversity of valley and mountain. It reminded me a little of my lovely trip to the Dixville notch, which is far more striking, on a vastly worse road. Having at last reached the highest level we stopped at a neat and comfortable looking inn to change horses, and I obtained a species of refreshment peculiar to the country, which Lady Russell charged me not to forget to ask for. It is called Athelbrose, and consists of a mixture of Milk, honey and whiskey rather cloying than agreeable. We