It is well known that some years are wetter than others; but to persons living in tolerably flat countries an unusually wet season causes no great inconvenience. It interferes, it is true, with outdoor employments, but people seldom apprehend any danger from the long continuance of rain. It is not so, however, in hilly or mountainous regions; an unusual fall of rain swells the rivers to such an extent, that they often overflow their banks, and occasion much damage to the surrounding districts; or, where the river’s banks are defended on both sides by perpendicular rocks, the waters sometimes rise so fast as to attain a height of forty or fifty feet above their natural level, and from this
height they pour with destructive violence over the face of the country. Such was the case in the great floods of Moray, which happened in the year 1829, of which the following is a brief abstract, derived chiefly from Sir Thomas Dick Lauder’s interesting volume on this subject, published soon after the calamity for the benefit of the sufferers.
The province of Moray, or Murray, is a large district in the north-east of Scotland, bounded by the Moray Frith on the north-east and north. The eastern half of the province is lower than the western; in which the mountains render the whole country characteristically highland. On the north is a long belt of lowlands, about 240 square miles in extent: this is greatly diversified with ridgy swells and low hilly ranges, lying parallel to the frith, and intersected by the rivers Ness, Nairn, Findhorn, Lossie, and Spey running across it to the sea. The grounds behind the lowlands appear, as seen from the coast, to be only a narrow ridge of bold alpine heights, rising like a rampart to guard the orchards, and woods, and fields: but these really form long and broad mountain masses, receding, in all the wildness and intricacy of highland
arrangement, to a distant summit line. Some of the broad clifts and long narrow vales of these mountains form beautiful and romantic pictures; while many of their declivities are practicable to the plough or other instruments of cultivation; so that the bottoms and the reclaimed or reclaimable sides of the valleys are estimated to comprehend about one-third of the entire area. The lowlands of Moray have long been celebrated for mildness and luxuriousness of climate, and also for a certain dryness of atmosphere, which seems to have some intimate connexion with the mournful calamity about to be described. The high broad range of mountains on the south-west shelter the lowlands from the prevailing winds of the country, and exhaust many light vapours and thinly-charged clouds, which might otherwise produce gentle rains; but, for just the same reason, they powerfully attract whatever long broad streams of heavy clouds are sailing through the sky, and, among the gullies and the upland glens, amass their discharged contents with amazing rapidity, and in singular largeness of volume. The rivers of the country are, in consequence, peculiarly liable to become flooded. One general and tremendous outbreak,
in 1829, “afforded an awful exhibition of the peculiarities of the climate, and will long be remembered, in connexion with the boasted luxuriousness of Moray, as an illustration of how chastisement and comfort are blended in a state of things which is benignly adjusted for the moral discipline of man, and the correction of moral evil.”
The heat in the province of Moray during the summer of 1829 was unusually great. In May the drought was so excessive, as to kill many of the recently planted shrubs and trees. As the season advanced, the variations in the barometer became so remarkable, that observers began to lose all confidence in this instrument.
The deluge of rain, which produced the flood of the 3d and 4th of August, fell chiefly on the Monadhlradh mountains, rising between the south-east part of Lochness and Kingussie, in Badenoch, and on that part of the Grampian range forming the somewhat independent groups of the Cairngorums. The westerly winds, which prevailed for some time previously, seem to have produced a gradual accumulation of vapour to the north of our island, and the column, being suddenly impelled by a strong north-easterly blast, was driven
towards the south-west, its right flank almost sweeping the Caithness and Sutherland coasts, until rushing up and across the Moray Frith it was attracted by the lofty mountains just mentioned, and discharged in fearful torrents. There fell at a great distance from the mountains, within twenty-four hours, about one-sixth of the annual allowance of rain; on the mountains themselves the deluge that descended, must have been so enormous as to occasion surprise that a flood, even yet more tremendous in its magnitude and consequences, did not result from it.
The mouth of the Findhorn is described as the most important scene of action. The banks of this river are well defended by rocks on either side, and its whole course is distinguished by the most romantic scenery. At the part where it is crossed by the old military bridge of Dulsie, the scenery is of the wildest character. The flood was most tremendous at this bridge, for the water was so confined that it filled the smaller arch altogether, and rose in the great arch to within three feet of the key-stone, that is to say, forty feet above the usual level. This fine old bridge sustained but little damage, while many of the modern buildings
were entirely swept away. At another part of the river, it is stated, as a curious illustration of the height to which the stream had risen, that a gardener waded into the water as it had begun to ebb on the haugh, and with his umbrella drove ashore and captured a fine salmon, at an elevation of fifty feet above the ordinary level of the Findhorn.