In the morning, September the second, we found ourselves on the edge of
the sea. Having procured a boat, we dismissed our Highlanders, whom I
would recommend to the service of any future travellers, and were ferried
over to the Isle of Sky. We landed at Armidel, where we were met on the
sands by Sir Alexander Macdonald, who was at that time there with his
lady, preparing to leave the island and reside at Edinburgh.
Armidel is a neat house, built where the Macdonalds had once a seat,
which was burnt in the commotions that followed the Revolution. The
walled orchard, which belonged to the former house, still remains. It is
well shaded by tall ash trees, of a species, as Mr. Janes the fossilist
informed me, uncommonly valuable. This plantation is very properly
mentioned by Dr. Campbell, in his new account of the state of Britain,
and deserves attention; because it proves that the present nakedness of
the Hebrides is not wholly the fault of Nature.
As we sat at Sir Alexander's table, we were entertained, according to the
ancient usage of the North, with the melody of the bagpipe. Everything
in those countries has its history. As the bagpiper was playing, an
elderly Gentleman informed us, that in some remote time, the Macdonalds
of Glengary having been injured, or offended by the inhabitants of
Culloden, and resolving to have justice or vengeance, came to Culloden on
a Sunday, where finding their enemies at worship, they shut them up in
the church, which they set on fire; and this, said he, is the tune that
the piper played while they were burning.
Narrations like this, however uncertain, deserve the notice of the
traveller, because they are the only records of a nation that has no
historians, and afford the most genuine representation of the life and
character of the ancient Highlanders.
Under the denomination of Highlander are comprehended in Scotland all
that now speak the Erse language, or retain the primitive manners,
whether they live among the mountains or in the islands; and in that
sense I use the name, when there is not some apparent reason for making a
distinction.
In Sky I first observed the use of Brogues, a kind of artless shoes,
stitched with thongs so loosely, that though they defend the foot from
stones, they do not exclude water. Brogues were formerly made of raw
hides, with the hair inwards, and such are perhaps still used in rude and
remote parts; but they are said not to last above two days. Where life
is somewhat improved, they are now made of leather tanned with oak bark,
as in other places, or with the bark of birch, or roots of tormentil, a
substance recommended in defect of bark, about forty years ago, to the
Irish tanners, by one to whom the parliament of that kingdom voted a
reward. The leather of Sky is not completely penetrated by vegetable
matter, and therefore cannot be very durable.
My inquiries about brogues, gave me an early specimen of Highland
information. One day I was told, that to make brogues was a domestick
art, which every man practised for himself, and that a pair of brogues
was the work of an hour. I supposed that the husband made brogues as the
wife made an apron, till next day it was told me, that a brogue-maker was
a trade, and that a pair would cost half a crown. It will easily occur
that these representations may both be true, and that, in some places,
men may buy them, and in others, make them for themselves; but I had both
the accounts in the same house within two days.
Many of my subsequent inquiries upon more interesting topicks ended in
the like uncertainty. He that travels in the Highlands may easily
saturate his soul with intelligence, if he will acquiesce in the first
account. The Highlander gives to every question an answer so prompt and
peremptory, that skepticism itself is dared into silence, and the mind
sinks before the bold reporter in unresisting credulity; but, if a second
question be ventured, it breaks the enchantment; for it is immediately
discovered, that what was told so confidently was told at hazard, and
that such fearlessness of assertion was either the sport of negligence,
or the refuge of ignorance.
If individuals are thus at variance with themselves, it can be no wonder
that the accounts of different men are contradictory. The traditions of
an ignorant and savage people have been for ages negligently heard, and
unskilfully related. Distant events must have been mingled together, and
the actions of one man given to another. These, however, are
deficiencies in story, for which no man is now to be censured. It were
enough, if what there is yet opportunity of examining were accurately
inspected, and justly represented; but such is the laxity of Highland
conversation, that the inquirer is kept in continual suspense, and by a
kind of intellectual retrogradation, knows less as he hears more.
In the islands the plaid is rarely worn. The law by which the
Highlanders have been obliged to change the form of their dress, has, in
all the places that we have visited, been universally obeyed. I have
seen only one gentleman completely clothed in the ancient habit, and by
him it was worn only occasionally and wantonly. The common people do not
think themselves under any legal necessity of having coats; for they say
that the law against plaids was made by Lord Hardwicke, and was in force
only for his life: but the same poverty that made it then difficult for
them to change their clothing, hinders them now from changing it again.
The fillibeg, or lower garment, is still very common, and the bonnet
almost universal; but their attire is such as produces, in a sufficient
degree, the effect intended by the law, of abolishing the dissimilitude
of appearance between the Highlanders and the other inhabitants of
Britain; and, if dress be supposed to have much influence, facilitates
their coalition with their fellow-subjects.
What we have long used we naturally like, and therefore the Highlanders
were unwilling to lay aside their plaid, which yet to an unprejudiced
spectator must appear an incommodious and cumbersome dress; for hanging
loose upon the body, it must flutter in a quick motion, or require one of
the hands to keep it close. The Romans always laid aside the gown when
they had anything to do. It was a dress so unsuitable to war, that the
same word which signified a gown signified peace. The chief use of a
plaid seems to be this, that they could commodiously wrap themselves in
it, when they were obliged to sleep without a better cover.
In our passage from Scotland to Sky, we were wet for the first time with
a shower. This was the beginning of the Highland winter, after which we
were told that a succession of three dry days was not to be expected for
many months. The winter of the Hebrides consists of little more than
rain and wind. As they are surrounded by an ocean never frozen, the
blasts that come to them over the water are too much softened to have the
power of congelation. The salt loughs, or inlets of the sea, which shoot
very far into the island, never have any ice upon them, and the pools of
fresh water will never bear the walker. The snow that sometimes falls,
is soon dissolved by the air, or the rain.
This is not the description of a cruel climate, yet the dark months are
here a time of great distress; because the summer can do little more than
feed itself, and winter comes with its cold and its scarcity upon
families very slenderly provided.