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The Southern Uplands. – The northern margin of this wide division having already been defined, we may now proceed to examine the distribution of its mountain-masses. Before doing so, however, it may be as well to point out that considerable tracts in Tweeddale, Teviotdale, and Liddesdale, together with the Cheviot Hills, do not properly belong to the Southern Uplands. In fact, the Cheviots bear the same relation to those Uplands as the Northern Heights do to the Highlands. Like them they are separated by a broad hollow from the Uplands, which they face – a hollow that reaches its greatest extent in Tweeddale, and rapidly wedges out to south-west, where the Cheviots abut abruptly on the Uplands. Even where this abrupt contact takes place, however, the different configuration of the two regions would enable any geologist to separate the one set of mountains from the other. But for geographical purposes we may conveniently disregard these geological contrasts, and include within the Southern Uplands all the area lying between the Central Lowlands and the English Border.

If there are no mountains in the Highlands so grouped and arranged as to be properly termed “ranges,” this is not less true of the Southern Uplands. Perhaps it is the appearance which those Uplands present when viewed from the Central Lowlands that first suggested the notion that they were ranges. They seem to rise like a wall out of the low grounds at their base, and extend far as eye can reach in an approximately straight line. It seems more probable, however, that our earlier cartographers merely meant, by their conventional hill-shading, to mark out definitely the water-partings. But to do so in this manner now, when the large contour maps of the Ordnance Survey may be in any one’s hands, is inexcusable. A study of those maps, or, better still, a visit to the tops of a few of the dominant points in the area under review, will effectually dispel the idea that the Southern Uplands consist of a series of ridges zigzagging across the country. Like the Highlands, the area of the Southern Uplands is simply an old table-land, furrowed into ravine and valley by the operation of the various agents of erosion.

Beginning our survey of these Uplands in the east, we encounter first the Lammermoor Hills – a broad undulating plateau – the highest elevations of which do not reach 2000 feet. West of this come the Moorfoot Hills and the high grounds lying between the Gala and the Tweed – a tract which averages a somewhat higher elevation – two points exceeding 2000 feet in height. The next group of mountains we meet is that of the Moffat Hills, in which head a number of important rivers – the Tweed, the Yarrow, the Ettrick, and the Annan. Many points in this region exceed 2000 feet, others approach 2500 feet; and some reach nearly 3000 feet, such as Broad Law (2754 feet), and Dollar Law (2680 feet). In the south-west comes the group of the Lowthers, with dominant elevations of more than 2000 feet. Then follow the mountain-masses in which the Nith, the Ken, the Cree, the Doon, and the Girvan take their rise, many of the heights exceeding 2000 feet, and a number reaching and even passing 2500 feet, the dominant point being reached in the noble mountain-mass of the Merrick (2764 feet). In the extreme south-west the Uplands terminate in a broad undulating plateau, of which the highest point is but little over 1000 feet. All the mountain-groups now referred to are massed along the northern borders of the Southern Uplands. In the south-west the general surface falls more or less gradually away towards the Solway – the 500 feet contour line being reached at fifteen miles, upon an average, from the sea-coast. In the extreme north-east the high grounds descend in like manner into the rich low grounds of the Merse. Between these low grounds and Annandale, however, the Uplands merge, as it were, into the broad elevated moory tract that extends south-east, to unite with the Cheviots – a belt of hills rising along the English Border to heights of 1964 feet (Peel Fell), and 2676 feet (the Cheviot).

The general configuration of the main mass of the Southern Uplands – that is to say, the mountain-groups extending along the northern portion of the area under review, from Loch Ryan to the coast between Dunbar and St. Abb’s Head – is somewhat tame and monotonous. The mountains are flat-topped elevations, with broad, rounded shoulders and smooth grassy slopes. Standing on the summits of the Higher hills, one seems to be in the midst of a wide, gently undulating plain, the surface of which is not broken by the appearance of any isolated peaks or eminences. Struggling across the bogs and peat-mosses that cover so many of those flat-topped mountains, the wanderer ever and anon suddenly finds himself on the brink of a deep green dale. He discovers, in short, that he is traversing an elevated undulating table-land, intersected by narrow and broad trench-like valleys that radiate outwards in all directions from the dominant bosses and swellings of the plateau. The mountains, therefore, are merely broad ridges and banks separating contiguous valleys; in a word, they are, like the mountains of the Highlands, monuments of erosion, which do not run in linear directions, but form irregular groups and masses.

The rocks that enter into the formation of this portion of the Southern Uplands have much the same character throughout. Consequently there is less variety of contour and colour than in the Highlands. The hills are not only flatter atop, but are much smoother in outline, there being a general absence of those beetling crags and precipices which are so common in the Highland regions. Now and again, however, the mountains assume a rougher aspect. This is especially the case with those of Carrick and Galloway, amongst which we encounter a wildness and grandeur which are in striking contrast to the gentle pastoral character of the Lowthers and similar tracts extending along the northern and higher parts of the Southern Uplands. Descending to details, the geologist can observe also modifications of contour even among those monotonous rounded hills. Such modifications are due to differences in the character of the component rocks, but they are rarely so striking as the modifications that arise from the same cause in the Highlands. To the trained eye, however, they are sufficiently manifest, and upon a geologically coloured map, which shows the various belts of rock that traverse the Uplands from south-west to north-east, it will be found that the mountains occurring within each of those separate belts have certain distinctive features. Such features, however, cannot be depicted upon a small orographical map. The separation of those mountains into distinct ranges, by reference to their physical aspect, is even less possible here than in the Highlands. Now and again, bands of certain rocks, which are of a more durable character than the other strata in their neighbourhood, give rise to pronounced ridges and banks, while hollows and valleys occasionally coincide more or less closely with the outcrops of the more readily eroded strata; but such features are mere minor details in the general configuration of the country. The courses of brooks and streams may have been frequently determined by the nature and arrangement of the rocks, but the general slope of the Uplands and the direction of the main lines of water-flow are at right angles to the trend of the strata, and cannot therefore have been determined in that way. The strata generally are inclined at high angles – they occur, in short, as a series of great anticlinal arches and synclinal curves, but the tops of the grand folds have been planed off, and the axes of the synclinal troughs, so far from coinciding with valleys, very often run along the tops of the highest hills. The foldings and plications do not, in a word, produce any corresponding undulations of the surface.

Mention has been made of the elevated moory tracts that serve to connect the Cheviots with the loftier Uplands lying to north-west. The configuration of these moors is tamer even than that of the regions just described, but the same general form prevails from the neighbourhood of the Moffat Hills to the head-waters of the Teviot. There, however, other varieties of rock appear, and produce corresponding changes in the aspect of the high grounds. Not a few of the hills in this district stand out prominently. They are more or less pyramidal and conical in shape, being built up of sandstones often crowned atop with a capping of some crystalline igneous rock, such as basalt. The Maiden Paps, Leap Hill, Needs Law, and others are examples. The heights draining towards Liddesdale and lower reaches of Eskdale, composed chiefly of sandstones, with here and there intercalated sheets of harder igneous rock, frequently show escarpments and terraced outlines, but have a general undulating contour; and similar features are characteristic of the sandstone mountains that form the south-west portion of the Cheviots. Towards the north-east, however, the sandstones give place to various igneous rocks, so that the hills in the north-east section of the Cheviots differ very much in aspect and configuration from those at the other extremity of the belt. They have a more varied and broken outline, closely resembling many parts of the Ochils and other portions of the Northern and Southern Heights of the Central Lowlands.

The low-lying tracts of Roxburghshire and the Merse, in like manner, present features which are common to the inner region of the Central Lowlands. Occasional ridges of hills rise above the general level of the land, as at Smailholm and Stitchell to the north of Kelso, while isolated knolls and prominences – some bald and abrupt, others smooth and rounded – help to diversify the surface. Bonchester Hill, Rubers Law, the Dunian, Penielheugh, Minto Hills, and the Eildons may be mentioned as examples. All of these are of igneous origin, some being mere caps of basalt resting upon a foundation of sandstone, while others are the stumps of isolated volcanoes.

In the maritime tracts of Galloway the low grounds repeat, on a smaller scale, the configuration of the lofty Uplands behind, for they are composed of the same kinds of rock. Their most remarkable feature is the heavy mountain-mass of Criffel, rising near the mouth of the Nith to a height of 1800 feet.

Everywhere, therefore, throughout the region of the Southern Uplands, in hilly and low-lying tracts alike, we see that the land has been modelled and contoured by the agents of erosion. We are dealing, as in the Highlands, with an old table-land, in which valleys have been excavated by running water and its helpmates. Nowhere do we encounter any linear banks, ridges, or ranges as we find described in the class-books, and represented upon many general maps of the country. In one of those manuals we read that in the southern district “the principal range of mountains is that known as the Lowther Hills, which springs off from the Cheviots, and, running in a zigzag direction to the south-west, terminates on the west coast near Loch Ryan.” This is quite true, according to many common maps, but unfortunately the “range” exists upon those maps and nowhere else. The zigzag line described is not a range of mountains, but a water-parting, which is quite another matter.

The table-land of the Southern Uplands, like that of the Highlands, is of immense antiquity. Long before the Old Red Sandstone period, it had been furrowed and trenched by running water. Of the original contour of its surface, all we can say is that it formed an undulating plateau, the general slope of which was towards south-east. This is shown by the trend of the more important rivers, such as the Nith and the Annan, the Gala and the Leader; and by the distribution of the various strata pertaining to the Old Red Sandstone and later geological periods. Thus, strata of Old Red Sandstone and Carboniferous age occupy the Merse and the lower reaches of Teviotdale, and extend up the valleys of the Whiteadder and the Leader into the heart of the Silurian Uplands. In like manner Permian sandstones are well developed in the ancient hollows of Annandale and Nithsdale. Along the northern borders of the Southern Uplands we meet with similar evidence to show that even as early as Old Red Sandstone times the old plateau, along what is now its northern margin, was penetrated by valleys that drained towards the north. The main drainage, however, then as now, was directed towards south-east.

Many geological facts conspire to show that the Silurian table-land of these Uplands has been submerged, like the Highlands, in whole or in part. This happened at various periods, and each time the land went down it received a covering of newer accumulations – patches of which still remain to testify to the former extent of the submergences. From the higher portions of the Uplands those accumulations have been almost wholly swept away, but they have not been entirely cleared out of the ancient valleys. They still mantle the borders of the Silurian area, particularly in the north-east, where they attain a great thickness in the moors of Liddesdale and the Cheviot Hills. The details of the evolution of the whole area of the Southern Uplands form an interesting study, but this pertains rather to Geology than to Physical Geography. It is enough, from our present point of view, to be assured that the main features of the country were chalked out, as it were, at a very distant geological period, and that all the infinite variety in the relief of our land has been brought about directly, not by titanic convulsions and earth-movements, but by the long-continued working of rain and rivers – of frost and snow and ice, supplemented from time to time by the action of the sea.

The physical features more particularly referred to in this paper are of course only the bolder and more prominent contours – those namely which can be expressed with sufficient accuracy upon sheets of such a size as the accompanying orographical map of Scotland (Plate I.). With larger maps considerably more detail can be added, and many characteristic and distinguishing features will appear according to the care with which such maps are drawn. In the case of the Ordnance Survey map, on the scale of 1 inch to a mile, the varying forms of the surface are so faithfully delineated as frequently to indicate to a trained observer the nature of the rocks and the geological structure of the ground. The artists who sketched the hills must indeed have had good eyes for form. So carefully has their work been done, that it is often not difficult to distinguish upon their maps hills formed of such rocks as sandstone from those that are composed of more durable kinds. The individual characteristics of mountains of schist, of granite, of quartz-rock, of slate, are often well depicted: nay, even the varieties of igneous rock which enter into the formation of the numerous hills and knolls of the Lowlands can frequently be detected by the features which the artists have so intelligently caught. Another set of features which their maps display are those due to glaciation. These are admirably brought out, even down to the smallest details. A glance at such maps as those of Teviotdale and the Merse, for example, shows at once the direction taken by the old mer de glace. The long parallel flutings of the hill-slopes, roches moutonnées, projecting knolls and hills with their “tails,” the great series of banks and ridges of stony clay which trend down the valley of the Tweed – these, and many more details of interest to specialists, are shown upon the maps. All over Scotland similar phenomena are common, and have been reproduced with marvellous skill on the shaded sheets issued by the Ordnance Survey. And yet the artists were not geologists. The present writer is glad of this opportunity of recording his obligations to those gentlemen. Their faithful delineations of physical features have given him many valuable suggestions, and have led up to certain observations which might otherwise not have been made.

III.
Mountains: Their Origin, Growth, and Decay. ⁴

Mountains have long had a fascination for lovers of nature. Time was, however, when most civilised folk looked upon them with feelings akin to horror; and good people, indeed, have written books to show that they are the cursed places of the earth – the ruin and desolation of their gorges and defiles affording indubitable proof of the evils which befell the world when man lapsed from his primitive state of innocence and purity. All this has changed. It is the fashion now to offer a kind of worship to mountains; and every year their solitudes are invaded by devotees – some, according to worthy Meg Dods, “rinning up hill and down dale, knapping the chuckie-stanes to pieces wi’ hammers, like sae mony roadmakers run daft – to see, as they say, how the warld was made” – others trying to transfer some of the beauty around them to paper or canvas – yet others, and these perhaps not the least wise, content, as old Sir Thomas Browne has it, “to stare about with a gross rusticity,” and humbly thankful that they are beyond the reach of telegrams, and see nothing to remind them of the fumun et opes strepitumque Romæ. But if the sentiment with which mountains are regarded has greatly changed, so likewise have the views of scientific men as to their origin and history. Years ago no one doubted that all mountains were simply the result of titanic convulsions. The crust of the earth had been pushed up from below, tossed into great billows, shivered and shattered – the mountains corresponding to the crests of huge earth-waves, the valleys to the intervening depressions, or to gaping fractures and dislocations. This view of the origin of mountains has always appeared reasonable to those who do not know what is meant by geological structure, and in some cases it is pretty near the truth. A true mountain-chain, like that of the Alps, does indeed owe its origin to gigantic disturbances of the earth’s crust, and in such a region the larger features of the surface often correspond more or less closely with the inclination of the underlying rocks. But in many elevated tracts, composed of highly disturbed and convoluted strata, no such coincidence of surface-features and underground structure can be traced. The mountains do not correspond to great swellings of the crust – the valleys neither lie in trough-shaped strata, nor do they coincide with gaping fractures. Again, many considerable mountains are built up of rocks which have not been convoluted at all, but occur in approximately horizontal beds. Evidently, therefore, some force other than subterranean action must be called upon to explain the origin of many of the most striking surface-features of the land.

Every geologist admits – it is one of the truisms of his science – that corrugations and plications are the result of subterranean action. Nor does any one deny that when a true mountain-chain was first upheaved the greater undulations of the folded strata probably gave rise to similar undulations at the surface. Some of the larger fractures and dislocations might also have appeared at the surface and produced mural precipices. So long a time, however, has elapsed since the elevation of even the youngest mountain-chains of the globe that the sub-aërial agents of erosion – rain, frost, rivers, glaciers, etc. – have been enabled greatly to modify their primeval features. For these mountains, therefore, it is only partially true that their present slopes coincide with those of the underlying strata. Such being the case with so young a chain as the Alps, we need not be surprised to meet with modifications on a still grander scale in mountain-regions of much greater antiquity. In many such tracts the primeval configuration due to subterranean action has been entirely remodelled, so that hills now stand where deep hollows formerly existed, while valleys frequently have replaced mountains. And this newer configuration is the direct result of erosion, guided by the mineralogical composition and structural peculiarities of the rocks.

It is difficult, or even impossible, for one who is ignorant of geological structure to realise that the apparently insignificant agents of erosion have played so important a rôle in the evolution of notable earth-features. It may be well, therefore, to illustrate the matter by reference to one or two regions where the geological structure is too simple to be misunderstood. The first examples I shall give are from tracts of horizontal strata. Many readers are doubtless aware of the fact that our rock-masses consist for the most part of the more or less indurated and compacted sediments of former rivers, lakes, and seas. Frequently those ancient water-formed rocks have been very much altered, so as even sometimes to acquire a crystalline character. But it is enough for us now to remember that the crust of the globe, so far as that is accessible to observation, is built up mostly of rocks which were originally accumulated as aqueous sediments. Such being the case, it is obvious that our strata of sandstone, conglomerate, shale, limestone, etc., must at first have been spread out in approximately horizontal or gently inclined sheets or layers. We judge so from what we know of sediments which are accumulating at present. The wide flats of our river valleys, the broad plains that occupy the sites of silted-up lakes, the extensive deltas of such rivers as the Nile and the Po, the narrow and wide belts of low-lying land which within a recent period have been gained from the sea, are all made up of various kinds of sediment arranged in approximately horizontal layers. Now, over wide regions of the earth’s surface the sedimentary strata still lie horizontally, and we can often tell at what geological period they became converted into dry land. Thus, for example, we know that the elevated plateau through which the river Colorado flows is built up of a great series of nearly horizontal beds of various sedimentary deposits, which reach a thickness of many thousand feet. It is self-evident that the youngest strata must be those which occur at the surface of the plateau, and they, as we know, are of lacustrine origin and belong to the Tertiary period. Now, American geologists have shown that since that period several thousands of feet of rock-materials have been removed from the surface of that plateau – the thickness of rock so carried away amounting in some places to nearly 10,000 feet. Yet all that prodigious erosion has been effected since early Tertiary times. Indeed, it can be proved that the excavation of the Grand Ca¤on of the Colorado, probably the most remarkable river-trench in the world, has been accomplished since the close of the Tertiary period, and is therefore a work of more recent date than the last great upheaval of the Swiss Alps. The origin of the ca¤on is self-evident – it is a magnificent example of river-erosion, and the mere statement of its dimensions gives one a forcible impression of the potency of sub-aërial denudation. The river-cutting is about 300 miles long, 11 or 12 miles broad, and varies from 3000 to 6000 feet in depth.

Take another example of what denuding agents have done within a recent geological period. The Faröe Islands, some twenty in number, extend over an area measuring about 70 miles from south to north, and nearly 50 miles from west to east. These islands are composed of volcanic rocks – beds of basalt with intervening layers of fine fragmental materials, and are obviously the relics of what formerly was one continuous plateau, deeply trenched by valleys running in various directions. Subsequent depression of the land introduced the sea to these valleys, and the plateau was then converted into a group of islands, separated from each other by narrow sounds and fiords. Were the great plateau through which the Colorado flows to be partially submerged, it would reproduce on a larger scale the general phenomena presented by this lonely island-group of the North Atlantic. The flat-topped “buttes” and “mesas,” and the pyramidal mountains of the Colorado district would form islands comparable to those of the Faröes. Most of the latter attain a considerable elevation above the sea – heights of 1700, 2000, 2500, and 2850 feet being met with in several of the islands. Indeed, the average elevation of the land in this northern archipelago can hardly be less than 900 feet. The deep trench-like valleys are evidently only the upper reaches of valleys which began to be excavated when the islands formed part and parcel of one and the same plateau – the lower reaches being now occupied by fiords and sounds. It is quite certain that all these valleys are the work of erosion. One can trace the beds of basalt continuously across the bottoms, and be quite sure that the valleys are not gaping cracks or fractures. Now, as the strata are approximately horizontal, it is obvious that the hollows of the surface have nothing whatever to do with undulations produced by earth-movements. The sub-aërial erosion of the islands has resulted in the development of massive flat-topped and pyramidal mountains. These stand up as eminences simply because the rock-material which once surrounded them has been gradually broken up and carried away. Nothing can well be more impressive to the student of physical geology than the aspect presented by these relics of an ancient plateau. Standing on some commanding elevation, such as Nakkin in Suderöe, one sees rising before him great truncated pyramids – built up of horizontal beds of basalt rising tier above tier – the mountains being separated from each other by wide and profound hollows, across which the basalt-beds were once continuous. Owing to the parallel and undisturbed position of the strata, it is not hard to form an estimate of the amount of material which has been removed during the gradual excavation of the valleys. In order to do so we have simply to measure the width, depth, and length of the valleys. Thus in Suderöe, which is 19 miles long and 6 miles broad, the bottoms of the valleys are 1000 feet at least below the tops of the mountains, and some of the hollows in question are a mile in width. Now, the amount of rock worn away from this one little island by sub-aërial erosion cannot be less than that of a mass measuring 10 miles in length by 6 miles in breadth, and 800 feet in thickness. And yet the Faröe Islands are composed of rocks which had no existence when the soft clays, etc., of the London Basin were being accumulated. All the erosion referred to has taken place since the great upheaval of the Eocene strata of the Swiss Alps.

But if the evidence of erosion be so conspicuous in regions composed of horizontal strata, it is not less so in countries where the rocks are inclined at various angles to the horizon. Indeed, the very fact that inclined strata crop out at the surface is sufficient evidence of erosion. For it is obvious that these outcrops are merely the truncated ends of beds which must formerly have had a wider extension. But while the effects produced by the erosion of horizontal strata are readily perceived by the least-informed observer, it requires some knowledge of geological structure to appreciate the denudation of curved or undulating strata. And yet there is really no mystery in the matter. All we have to do is by careful observation to ascertain the mode of arrangement of the rocks – this accomplished, we have no difficulty in estimating the minimum erosion which any set of strata may have experienced. An illustration may serve to make this plain. Here, for example, is a section across a region of undulating strata. Let the line A B represent the surface of the ground, and C D be any datum line – say, the sea-level. An observer at A, who should walk in the direction of B, would cross successively eight outcrops of coal; and, were he incapable of reading the geological structure of the ground, he might imagine that he had come upon eight separate coal-seams. A glance at the section, however, shows that in reality he had met with only two coals, and that the deceptive appearances, which might be misread by an incautious observer, are simply the result of denudation. In this case the tops of a series of curved or arched beds have been removed (as at E), and, by protracting the lines of the truncated beds until they meet, we can estimate the minimum amount of erosion they have sustained. Thus, if the strata between o and p be 300 feet thick, it is self-evident that a somewhat greater thickness of rock must have been removed from the top of the anticlinal arch or “saddleback” at E.

Again, let us draw a section across strata which have been fractured and dislocated, and we shall see how such fractures likewise enable us to estimate the minimum amount of erosion which certain regions have experienced. In we have a series of strata containing a bed of limestone L, and a coal-seam a. The present surface of the ground is represented by the line A B. At F the strata are traversed by a fault or dislocation – the beds being thrown down for say 500 feet on the low side of the fault – so that the coal at a² occurs now at a depth of 500 feet below its continuation at a¹. At the surface of the ground there is no inequality of level – the beds overlying the coal (a²) having been removed by denudation. Were the missing rocks to be replaced, they would occupy the space contained within the dotted lines above the present surface A B. Such dislocations are of common occurrence in our coal-fields, and it is not often that they give rise to any features at the surface. We may thus traverse many level or gently-undulating tracts, and be quite unconscious of the fact that geologically we have frequently leaped up or dropped down for hundreds of feet in a single step. Nay, some Scottish streams and rivers flow across dislocations by which the strata have been shifted up or down for thousands of feet, and in some places one can have the satisfaction of sitting upon rocks which are geologically 3000 yards below or above those on which he rests his feet. In other words, thousands of feet of strata have been removed by denudation from the high sides of faults. These, as I have said, often give rise to no feature at the surface; but, occasionally, when “soft” rocks have been shifted by dislocations, and brought against “hard” rocks, the latter, by better resisting denudation than the former, cause a more or less well-marked feature at the surface, and thus betray the presence of a fault to the geologist. The phenomena presented by faults, therefore, are just as eloquent of denudation as is the truncated appearance of our strata; and only after we have carefully examined the present extension and mutual relations of our rock-masses, their varied inclination, and the size of the dislocations by which they are traversed, can we properly appreciate the degree of erosion which they have sustained. Before we are entitled to express any opinion as to the origin of the surface-features of a country, we must first know its geological structure. Until we have attained such knowledge, all our views as to the origin of mountains are of less value than the paper they are written upon.