The youthful blood of the present generation boils with indignation at the arrogance of the ancients in assuming, as your correspondent 'Jehu' does that highway horse traveling is more delightful and instructive than traveling by rail. But it must be confessed that, when balloon voyages became the order of the day, we who admire and enjoy railways may in our turn be looked back upon as bigoted believers in what is useless, or at best insignificant. Yet the time was, about thirty years ago, when the very best engineers in Britain gave evidence before Parliament that seven or eight miles an hour was the highest rate of speed they expected on railways; and then they were not sure of what sort of propelling power was best. A horse trotting on a revolving wheel (after the manner of a squirrel in its cage wheel) was considered a reasonable locomotive power. This and other similar projects were all consigned to oblivion after Stephenson's steam engine for railways was produced, and successful in competition as the propelling power for the Manchester and Liverpool Railway. This was the first railway of any importance constructed in Britain. The great statesman, Mr Huskison, was killed on its opening day, and a monument is erected where a carriage ran over him. The whole of Great Britain is now a network of railways, and Kilmarnock has more than its share. Now for a trip to Glasgow. Starting from the Kilmarnock Station - sixty feet above the level of the town - we move gently past the road into the Troon branch and the entrance to the extensive buildings recently constructed for carrying on all departments of work necessary for making and mending machinery on and connected with the Glasgow and South Western Railway. In a deep cut of half a mile in length we pass through what, for many a year, was a curling pond on Bonnyton Bog. Gaining speed we dash away through Woodhill and Greenhill Farms into the beautiful narrow valley of Busby. Here on our left on the left bank of Kilmaurs Water, is seen the beautiful ruin of Busby Castle. Like many other monuments of antiquity little seems to be known about it. It appears from its architectural structure to be about three hundred years old or less. Far more ancient were erections and excavations on the bank of the adjacent stream. Nearly two thousand years ago a Roman encampment stood on the very ground through which we pass, proofs of which have been discovered within later times. About thirty years ago an immense elephant's tusk was found in the earth above the celebrated Woodhill Stone Quarry, then the property of the late Baillie John Fulton of Kilmarnock. It is supposed that the Romans brought the elephants into this country along with their armies; but this, I think exceedingly improbable. We may therefore conclude that Scotland at one time had elephants of its own perhaps antediluvians. In a recently opened quarry at this place, a circular coal pit, about three feet in diameter, I was discovered in the solid rock; but although carefully explored no implements working it could be seen. The Kilmaurs Water which runs down this beautiful glen is a stream of much historical importance. At Rowallan, on its banks, the beautiful queen of King Robert II was born*; and at the village of Kilmaurs, the Earls of Glencairn occasionally resided. One of these gentlemen was so delighted with the industry and ingenuity of the artisans of Kilmaurs that he granted to many families a respectable piece of land, gratis, to encore them to continue and increase their exertions. But alas, this kindness had the contrary effect. The self-sustaining principle evaporated when session of the soil was obtained, and gradually their manufactory of cutlery and useful implements of metal, horn and bone, declined until only one family of hornspoon makers still exists. That most beautiful and rare of all British birds - the kingfisher - nestles on the banks of this stream between our railway and Kilmaurs. The stream itself, incredible but true, has its principle source in the Kilmarnock Water, about 1 miles above Fenwick, where a very old dam or offset, sends the current into a very narrow artificial canal that carries it to Gardrum Mill, from whence it runs down the little valley to the north of Fenwick and joins a more northern branch at Rowallan Castle. From the upper part of this northern bank the Kilmarnock Water Company obtains its supply. Onward, about a mile, and we cross a wimp-ling stream named Carreer. On our right, on its banks, about half a mile off is the celebrated farm of Kilmaurs Mains. There, forty or fifty of the finest Ayrshire cows may be daily seen - pure in breed and splendid in condition. Four miles from home we reach Cunningham Head Station, close to the high road between Irvine and Stewarton - a fine agricultural country, stretching far to the right and left. The dark woods of Lainshaw, near Stewarton, form the horizon to the north. Now we reach the Annick, a capital trout rivulet on the south bank is erected for the artificial hatching and rearing of poultry, not amazingly successful I guess. The Annick rises on the high ground between Stewarton and Glasgow - about nine or ten miles from where we cross it. It has many tributaries - the most important of which is the Glazart, which, running near the village of Dunlop, joins the Annick about a mile to the south of Kennox, the seat of Colonel McAllister. The Glazart produces a fine little trout, supposed to be the same fish as the celebrated char of the Westmoreland lakes. It is quite impossible for the language to depict the beautiful dells, glens and shrubby slopes on the banks of the Annick. Yet its praise has not been sung as it should be. On our right is the mansion-house of Cunningham Head, on our left Annick Lodge - both concealed by trees. On the southern bank of the river coal pits in great numbers have been seen, on our left, all the way from Kilmarnock. They still continue with very little interruption. Pressing forward, the prominent buildings of the town of Irvine appear about three miles distant on our left; and about one mile to our right a lofty, minaret sort of tower, erected a good many years ago by the late Captain Cheap of Girgenti. Captain Cheap was a most eccentric and wonderfully well-informed gentleman. He visited every capital city in Europe, and on his last foreign troop, crossed the Mediterranean, explored Cairo and many parts of lower Egypt, and returned home by way of Constantinople. Although then about seventy years of age, he managed to reach the top of the highest pyramid - unassisted of course, by the pushing's and pulling of the sons of the desert. He left about £1O,OOO for the benefit of (I think) three public hospitals or infirmaries, in Scotland. A little further to the north of Girgenti stands the bulky ruin of Auchenharvey Castle. It must have been a residence of some branch of the ancient and powerful family of Cunningham, still represented by descendants at Skeldon, on the banks of the Doon. Now the lofty woods of Eglington, and the flagstaff of the castle rise on our left, little more than a mile off; and two or three fields on our right, embowered on a slop stands the large and handsome mansion of Montgreenan. This house was built about forty years ago by a Doctor Glasgow, who made a fortune in the West Indies, but died soon after its erection. It is now used as a seminary for the education of youth, on a large scale. Its gardens were manured when first laid out with the remains of a large whale which was captured near Troon, and carted at great expense to Montgreenan. There, about fifty years ago a splendid eagle enjoyed and out-of-door sort of household establishment, but he did not "renew his youth" we suspect. At least, since boyhood, we have not seen or heard of him. 

29 July 1857

* This King died in Dundonald Castle