Joseph reported that the wind was still against us. Dr. Johnson said, 'A
wind, or not a wind? that is the question[765];' for he can amuse
himself at times with a little play of words, or rather sentences. I
remember when he turned his cup at Aberbrothick, where we drank tea, he
muttered _Claudite jam rivos, pueri'_[766]. I must again and again
apologize to fastidious readers, for recording such minute particulars.
They prove the scrupulous fidelity of my _Journal_. Dr. Johnson said it
was a very exact picture of a portion of his life.
While we were chatting in the indolent stile of men who were to stay
here all this day at least, we were suddenly roused at being told that
the wind was fair, that a little fleet of herring-busses was passing by
for Mull, and that Mr. Simpson's vessel was about to sail. Hugh
M'Donald, the skipper, came to us, and was impatient that we should get
ready, which we soon did. Dr. Johnson, with composure and solemnity,
repeated the observation of Epictetus, that, 'as man has the voyage of
death before him,--whatever may be his employment, he should be ready at
the master's call; and an old man should never be far from the shore,
lest he should not be able to get himself ready.' He rode, and I and the
other gentlemen walked, about an English mile to the shore, where the
vessel lay. Dr. Johnson said, he should never forget Sky, and returned
thanks for all civilities. We were carried to the vessel in a small boat
which she had, and we set sail very briskly about one o'clock. I was
much pleased with the motion for many hours. Dr. Johnson grew sick, and
retired under cover, as it rained a good deal. I kept above, that I
might have fresh air, and finding myself not affected by the motion of
the vessel, I exulted in being a stout seaman, while Dr. Johnson was
quite in a state of annihilation. But I was soon humbled; for after
imagining that I could go with ease to America or the East-Indies, I
became very sick, but kept above board, though it rained hard.
As we had been detained so long in Sky by bad weather, we gave up the
scheme that Col had planned for us of visiting several islands, and
contented ourselves with the prospect of seeing Mull, and Icolmkill and
Inchkenneth, which lie near to it.
Mr. Simpson was sanguine in his hopes for awhile, the wind being fair
for us. He said, he would land us at Icolmkill that night. But when the
wind failed, it was resolved we should make for the sound of Mull, and
land in the harbour of Tobermorie. We kept near the five herring vessels
for some time; but afterwards four of them got before us, and one little
wherry fell behind us. When we got in full view of the point of
Ardnamurchan, the wind changed, and was directly against our getting
into the Sound. We were then obliged to tack, and get forward in that
tedious manner. As we advanced, the storm grew greater, and the sea very
rough. Col then began to talk of making for Egg, or Canna, or his own
island. Our skipper said, he would get us into the Sound. Having
struggled for this a good while in vain, he said, he would push forward
till we were near the land of Mull, where we might cast anchor, and lie
till the morning; for although, before this, there had been a good moon,
and I had pretty distinctly seen not only the land of Mull, but up the
Sound, and the country of Morven as at one end of it, the night was now
grown very dark. Our crew consisted of one M'Donald, our skipper, and
two sailors, one of whom had but one eye: Mr. Simpson himself, Col, and
Hugh M'Donald his servant, all helped. Simpson said, he would willingly
go for Col, if young Col or his servant would undertake to pilot us to
a harbour; but, as the island is low land, it was dangerous to run upon
it in the dark. Col and his servant appeared a little dubious. The
scheme of running for Canna seemed then to be embraced; but Canna was
ten leagues off, all out of our way; and they were afraid to attempt the
harbour of Egg. All these different plans were successively in
agitation. The old skipper still tried to make for the land of Mull; but
then it was considered that there was no place there where we could
anchor in safety. Much time was lost in striving against the storm. At
last it became so rough, and threatened to be so much worse, that Col
and his servant took more courage, and said they would undertake to hit
one of the harbours in Col. 'Then let us run for it in GOD'S name,' said
the skipper; and instantly we turned towards it. The little wherry which
had fallen behind us had hard work. The master begged that, if we made
for Col, we should put out a light to him. Accordingly one of the
sailors waved a glowing peat for some time. The various difficulties
that were started, gave me a good deal of apprehension, from which I was
relieved, when I found we were to run for a harbour before the wind. But
my relief was but of short duration: for I soon heard that our sails
were very bad, and were in danger of being torn in pieces, in which case
we should be driven upon the rocky shore of Col. It was very dark, and
there was a heavy and incessant rain. The sparks of the burning peat
flew so much about, that I dreaded the vessel might take fire. Then, as
Col was a sportsman, and had powder on board, I figured that we might be
blown up. Simpson and he appeared a little frightened, which made me
more so; and the perpetual talking, or rather shouting, which was
carried on in Erse, alarmed me still more. A man is always suspicious of
what is saying in an unknown tongue; and, if fear be his passion at the
time, he grows more afraid. Our vessel often lay so much on one side,
that I trembled lest she should be overset, and indeed they told me
afterwards, that they had run her sometimes to within an inch of the
water, so anxious were they to make what haste they could before the
night should be worse. I now saw what I never saw before, a prodigious
sea, with immense billows coming upon a vessel, so as that it seemed
hardly possible to escape. There was something grandly horrible in the
sight. I am glad I have seen it once. Amidst all these terrifying
circumstances, I endeavoured to compose my mind. It was not easy to do
it; for all the stories that I had heard of the dangerous sailing among
the Hebrides, which is proverbial[767], came full upon my recollection.
When I thought of those who were dearest to me, and would suffer
severely, should I be lost, I upbraided myself, as not having a
sufficient cause for putting myself in such danger. Piety afforded me
comfort; yet I was disturbed by the objections that have been made
against a particular providence, and by the arguments of those who
maintain that it is in vain to hope that the petitions of an individual,
or even of congregations, can have any influence with the Deity;
objections which have been often made, and which Dr. Hawkesworth has
lately revived, in his Preface to the _Voyages to the South Seas_[768];
but Dr. Ogden's excellent doctrine on the efficacy of intercession
prevailed.
It was half an hour after eleven before we set ourselves in the course
for Col. As I saw them all busy doing something, I asked Col, with much
earnestness, what I could do. He, with a happy readiness, put into my
hand a rope, which was fixed to the top of one of the masts, and told me
to hold it till he bade me pull. If I had considered the matter, I might
have seen that this could not be of the least service; but his object
was to keep me out of the way of those who were busy working the vessel,
and at the same time to divert my fear, by employing me, and making me
think that I was of use. Thus did I stand firm to my post, while the
wind and rain beat upon me, always expecting a call to pull my rope.
The man with one eye steered; old M'Donald, and Col and his servant, lay
upon the fore-castle, looking sharp out for the harbour. It was
necessary to carry much _cloth_, as they termed it, that is to say, much
sail, in order to keep the vessel off the shore of Col. This made
violent plunging in a rough sea. At last they spied the harbour of
Lochiern, and Col cried, 'Thank GOD, we are safe!' We ran up till we
were opposite to it, and soon afterwards we got into it, and
cast anchor.
Dr. Johnson had all this time been quiet and unconcerned. He had lain
down on one of the beds, and having got free from sickness, was
satisfied. The truth is, he knew nothing of the danger we were in[769]
but, fearless and unconcerned, might have said, in the words which he
has chosen for the motto to his _Rambler_,
'Quo me cunque rapit tempestas, deferor hospes.[770]'
Once, during the doubtful consultations, he asked whither we were going;
and upon being told that it was not certain whether to Mull or Col, he
cried, 'Col for my money!' I now went down, with Col and Mr. Simpson, to
visit him. He was lying in philosophick tranquillity with a greyhound of
Col's at his back, keeping him warm. Col is quite the _Juvenis qui
gaudet canibus_[771]. He had, when we left Talisker, two greyhounds,
two terriers, a pointer, and a large Newfoundland water-dog. He lost one
of his terriers by the road, but had still five dogs with him. I was
very ill, and very desirous to get to shore. When I was told that we
could not land that night, as the storm had now increased, I looked so
miserably, as Col afterwards informed me, that what Shakspeare has made
the Frenchman say of the English soldiers, when scantily dieted,
_'Piteous they will look, like drowned mice!'_[772] might, I believe,
have been well applied to me. There was in the harbour, before us, a
Campbelltown vessel, the Betty, Kenneth Morrison master, taking in
kelp, and bound for Ireland. We sent our boat to beg beds for two
gentlemen, and that the master would send his boat, which was larger
than ours. He accordingly did so, and Col and I were accommodated in his
vessel till the morning.