In the morning we went again into the boat, and were landed on Inch
Kenneth, an Island about a mile long, and perhaps half a mile broad,
remarkable for pleasantness and fertility. It is verdant and grassy, and
fit both for pasture and tillage; but it has no trees. Its only
inhabitants were Sir Allan Maclean and two young ladies, his daughters,
with their servants.
Romance does not often exhibit a scene that strikes the imagination more
than this little desert in these depths of Western obscurity, occupied
not by a gross herdsman, or amphibious fisherman, but by a gentleman and
two ladies, of high birth, polished manners and elegant conversation,
who, in a habitation raised not very far above the ground, but furnished
with unexpected neatness and convenience, practised all the kindness of
hospitality, and refinement of courtesy.
Sir Allan is the Chieftain of the great clan of Maclean, which is said to
claim the second place among the Highland families, yielding only to
Macdonald. Though by the misconduct of his ancestors, most of the
extensive territory, which would have descended to him, has been
alienated, he still retains much of the dignity and authority of his
birth. When soldiers were lately wanting for the American war,
application was made to Sir Allan, and he nominated a hundred men for the
service, who obeyed the summons, and bore arms under his command.
He had then, for some time, resided with the young ladies in Inch
Kenneth, where he lives not only with plenty, but with elegance, having
conveyed to his cottage a collection of books, and what else is necessary
to make his hours pleasant.
When we landed, we were met by Sir Allan and the Ladies, accompanied by
Miss Macquarry, who had passed some time with them, and now returned to
Ulva with her father.
We all walked together to the mansion, where we found one cottage for Sir
Allan, and I think two more for the domesticks and the offices. We
entered, and wanted little that palaces afford. Our room was neatly
floored, and well lighted; and our dinner, which was dressed in one of
the other huts, was plentiful and delicate.
In the afternoon Sir Allan reminded us, that the day was Sunday, which he
never suffered to pass without some religious distinction, and invited us
to partake in his acts of domestick worship; which I hope neither Mr.
Boswell nor myself will be suspected of a disposition to refuse. The
elder of the Ladies read the English service.
Inch Kenneth was once a seminary of ecclesiasticks, subordinate, I
suppose, to Icolmkill. Sir Allan had a mind to trace the foundations of
the college, but neither I nor Mr. Boswell, who bends a keener eye on
vacancy, were able to perceive them.
Our attention, however, was sufficiently engaged by a venerable chapel,
which stands yet entire, except that the roof is gone. It is about sixty
feet in length, and thirty in breadth. On one side of the altar is a bas
relief of the blessed Virgin, and by it lies a little bell; which, though
cracked, and without a clapper, has remained there for ages, guarded only
by the venerableness of the place. The ground round the chapel is
covered with gravestones of Chiefs and ladies; and still continues to be
a place of sepulture.
Inch Kenneth is a proper prelude to Icolmkill. It was not without some
mournful emotion that we contemplated the ruins of religious structures
and the monuments of the dead.
On the next day we took a more distinct view of the place, and went with
the boat to see oysters in the bed, out of which the boatmen forced up as
many as were wanted. Even Inch Kenneth has a subordinate Island, named
Sandiland, I suppose in contempt, where we landed, and found a rock, with
a surface of perhaps four acres, of which one is naked stone, another
spread with sand and shells, some of which I picked up for their glossy
beauty, and two covered with a little earth and grass, on which Sir Allan
has a few sheep. I doubt not but when there was a college at Inch
Kenneth, there was a hermitage upon Sandiland.
Having wandered over those extensive plains, we committed ourselves again
to the winds and waters; and after a voyage of about ten minutes, in
which we met with nothing very observable, were again safe upon dry
ground.
We told Sir Allan our desire of visiting Icolmkill, and entreated him to
give us his protection, and his company. He thought proper to hesitate a
little, but the Ladies hinted, that as they knew he would not finally
refuse, he would do better if he preserved the grace of ready compliance.
He took their advice, and promised to carry us on the morrow in his boat.
We passed the remaining part of the day in such amusements as were in our
power. Sir Allan related the American campaign, and at evening one of
the Ladies played on her harpsichord, while Col and Mr. Boswell danced a
Scottish reel with the other.
We could have been easily persuaded to a longer stay upon Inch Kenneth,
but life will not be all passed in delight. The session at Edinburgh was
approaching, from which Mr. Boswell could not be absent.
In the morning our boat was ready: it was high and strong. Sir Allan
victualled it for the day, and provided able rowers. We now parted from
the young Laird of Col, who had treated us with so much kindness, and
concluded his favours by consigning us to Sir Allan. Here we had the
last embrace of this amiable man, who, while these pages were preparing
to attest his virtues, perished in the passage between Ulva and Inch
Kenneth.
Sir Allan, to whom the whole region was well known, told us of a very
remarkable cave, to which he would show us the way. We had been
disappointed already by one cave, and were not much elevated by the
expectation of another.
It was yet better to see it, and we stopped at some rocks on the coast of
Mull. The mouth is fortified by vast fragments of stone, over which we
made our way, neither very nimbly, nor very securely. The place,
however, well repaid our trouble. The bottom, as far as the flood rushes
in, was encumbered with large pebbles, but as we advanced was spread over
with smooth sand. The breadth is about forty-five feet: the roof rises
in an arch, almost regular, to a height which we could not measure; but I
think it about thirty feet.
This part of our curiosity was nearly frustrated; for though we went to
see a cave, and knew that caves are dark, we forgot to carry tapers, and
did not discover our omission till we were wakened by our wants. Sir
Allan then sent one of the boatmen into the country, who soon returned
with one little candle. We were thus enabled to go forward, but could
not venture far. Having passed inward from the sea to a great depth, we
found on the right hand a narrow passage, perhaps not more than six feet
wide, obstructed by great stones, over which we climbed and came into a
second cave, in breadth twenty-five feet. The air in this apartment was
very warm, but not oppressive, nor loaded with vapours. Our light showed
no tokens of a feculent or corrupted atmosphere. Here was a square
stone, called, as we are told, Fingal's Table.
If we had been provided with torches, we should have proceeded in our
search, though we had already gone as far as any former adventurer,
except some who are reported never to have returned; and, measuring our
way back, we found it more than a hundred and sixty yards, the eleventh
part of a mile.
Our measures were not critically exact, having been made with a walking
pole, such as it is convenient to carry in these rocky countries, of
which I guessed the length by standing against it. In this there could
be no great errour, nor do I much doubt but the Highlander, whom we
employed, reported the number right. More nicety however is better, and
no man should travel unprovided with instruments for taking heights and
distances.
There is yet another cause of errour not always easily surmounted, though
more dangerous to the veracity of itinerary narratives, than imperfect
mensuration. An observer deeply impressed by any remarkable spectacle,
does not suppose, that the traces will soon vanish from his mind, and
having commonly no great convenience for writing, defers the description
to a time of more leisure, and better accommodation.
He who has not made the experiment, or who is not accustomed to require
rigorous accuracy from himself, will scarcely believe how much a few
hours take from certainty of knowledge, and distinctness of imagery; how
the succession of objects will be broken, how separate parts will be
confused, and how many particular features and discriminations will be
compressed and conglobated into one gross and general idea.
To this dilatory notation must be imputed the false relations of
travellers, where there is no imaginable motive to deceive. They trusted
to memory, what cannot be trusted safely but to the eye, and told by
guess what a few hours before they had known with certainty. Thus it was
that Wheeler and Spon described with irreconcilable contrariety things
which they surveyed together, and which both undoubtedly designed to show
as they saw them.
When we had satisfied our curiosity in the cave, so far as our penury of
light permitted us, we clambered again to our boat, and proceeded along
the coast of Mull to a headland, called Atun, remarkable for the columnar
form of the rocks, which rise in a series of pilasters, with a degree of
regularity, which Sir Allan thinks not less worthy of curiosity than the
shore of Staffa.
Not long after we came to another range of black rocks, which had the
appearance of broken pilasters, set one behind another to a great depth.
This place was chosen by Sir Allan for our dinner. We were easily
accommodated with seats, for the stones were of all heights, and
refreshed ourselves and our boatmen, who could have no other rest till we
were at Icolmkill.
The evening was now approaching, and we were yet at a considerable
distance from the end of our expedition. We could therefore stop no more
to make remarks in the way, but set forward with some degree of
eagerness. The day soon failed us, and the moon presented a very solemn
and pleasing scene. The sky was clear, so that the eye commanded a wide
circle: the sea was neither still nor turbulent: the wind neither silent
nor loud. We were never far from one coast or another, on which, if the
weather had become violent, we could have found shelter, and therefore
contemplated at ease the region through which we glided in the
tranquillity of the night, and saw now a rock and now an island grow
gradually conspicuous and gradually obscure. I committed the fault which
I have just been censuring, in neglecting, as we passed, to note the
series of this placid navigation.
We were very near an Island, called Nun's Island, perhaps from an ancient
convent. Here is said to have been dug the stone that was used in the
buildings of Icolmkill. Whether it is now inhabited we could not stay to
inquire.
At last we came to Icolmkill, but found no convenience for landing. Our
boat could not be forced very near the dry ground, and our Highlanders
carried us over the water.
We were now treading that illustrious Island, which was once the luminary
of the Caledonian regions, whence savage clans and roving barbarians
derived the benefits of knowledge, and the blessings of religion. To
abstract the mind from all local emotion would be impossible, if it were
endeavoured, and would be foolish, if it were possible. Whatever
withdraws us from the power of our senses; whatever makes the past, the
distant, or the future predominate over the present, advances us in the
dignity of thinking beings. Far from me and from my friends, be such
frigid philosophy as may conduct us indifferent and unmoved over any
ground which has been dignified by wisdom, bravery, or virtue. That man
is little to be envied, whose patriotism would not gain force upon the
plain of Marathon, or whose piety would not grow warmer among the ruins
of Iona!
We came too late to visit monuments: some care was necessary for
ourselves. Whatever was in the Island, Sir Allan could command, for the
inhabitants were Macleans; but having little they could not give us much.
He went to the headman of the Island, whom Fame, but Fame delights in
amplifying, represents as worth no less than fifty pounds. He was
perhaps proud enough of his guests, but ill prepared for our
entertainment; however, he soon produced more provision than men not
luxurious require. Our lodging was next to be provided. We found a barn
well stocked with hay, and made our beds as soft as we could.
In the morning we rose and surveyed the place. The churches of the two
convents are both standing, though unroofed. They were built of unhewn
stone, but solid, and not inelegant. I brought away rude measures of the
buildings, such as I cannot much trust myself, inaccurately taken, and
obscurely noted. Mr. Pennant's delineations, which are doubtless exact,
have made my unskilful description less necessary.
The episcopal church consists of two parts, separated by the belfry, and
built at different times. The original church had, like others, the
altar at one end, and tower at the other: but as it grew too small,
another building of equal dimension was added, and the tower then was
necessarily in the middle.
That these edifices are of different ages seems evident. The arch of the
first church is Roman, being part of a circle; that of the additional
building is pointed, and therefore Gothick, or Saracenical; the tower is
firm, and wants only to be floored and covered.
Of the chambers or cells belonging to the monks, there are some walls
remaining, but nothing approaching to a complete apartment.
The bottom of the church is so incumbered with mud and rubbish, that we
could make no discoveries of curious inscriptions, and what there are
have been already published. The place is said to be known where the
black stones lie concealed, on which the old Highland Chiefs, when they
made contracts and alliances, used to take the oath, which was considered
as more sacred than any other obligation, and which could not be violated
without the blackest infamy. In those days of violence and rapine, it
was of great importance to impress upon savage minds the sanctity of an
oath, by some particular and extraordinary circumstances. They would not
have recourse to the black stones, upon small or common occasions, and
when they had established their faith by this tremendous sanction,
inconstancy and treachery were no longer feared.
The chapel of the nunnery is now used by the inhabitants as a kind of
general cow-house, and the bottom is consequently too miry for
examination. Some of the stones which covered the later abbesses have
inscriptions, which might yet be read, if the chapel were cleansed. The
roof of this, as of all the other buildings, is totally destroyed, not
only because timber quickly decays when it is neglected, but because in
an island utterly destitute of wood, it was wanted for use, and was
consequently the first plunder of needy rapacity.
The chancel of the nuns' chapel is covered with an arch of stone, to
which time has done no injury; and a small apartment communicating with
the choir, on the north side, like the chapter-house in cathedrals,
roofed with stone in the same manner, is likewise entire.
In one of the churches was a marble altar, which the superstition of the
inhabitants has destroyed. Their opinion was, that a fragment of this
stone was a defence against shipwrecks, fire, and miscarriages. In one
corner of the church the bason for holy water is yet unbroken.
The cemetery of the nunnery was, till very lately, regarded with such
reverence, that only women were buried in it. These reliques of
veneration always produce some mournful pleasure. I could have forgiven
a great injury more easily than the violation of this imaginary sanctity.
South of the chapel stand the walls of a large room, which was probably
the hall, or refectory of the nunnery. This apartment is capable of
repair. Of the rest of the convent there are only fragments.
Besides the two principal churches, there are, I think, five chapels yet
standing, and three more remembered. There are also crosses, of which
two bear the names of St. John and St. Matthew.
A large space of ground about these consecrated edifices is covered with
gravestones, few of which have any inscription. He that surveys it,
attended by an insular antiquary, may be told where the Kings of many
nations are buried, and if he loves to sooth his imagination with the
thoughts that naturally rise in places where the great and the powerful
lie mingled with the dust, let him listen in submissive silence; for if
he asks any questions, his delight is at an end.
Iona has long enjoyed, without any very credible attestation, the honour
of being reputed the cemetery of the Scottish Kings. It is not unlikely,
that, when the opinion of local sanctity was prevalent, the Chieftains of
the Isles, and perhaps some of the Norwegian or Irish princes were
reposited in this venerable enclosure. But by whom the subterraneous
vaults are peopled is now utterly unknown. The graves are very numerous,
and some of them undoubtedly contain the remains of men, who did not
expect to be so soon forgotten.
Not far from this awful ground, may be traced the garden of the
monastery: the fishponds are yet discernible, and the aqueduct, which
supplied them, is still in use.
There remains a broken building, which is called the Bishop's house, I
know not by what authority. It was once the residence of some man above
the common rank, for it has two stories and a chimney. We were shewn a
chimney at the other end, which was only a nich, without perforation, but
so much does antiquarian credulity, or patriotick vanity prevail, that it
was not much more safe to trust the eye of our instructor than the
memory.
There is in the Island one house more, and only one, that has a chimney:
we entered it, and found it neither wanting repair nor inhabitants; but
to the farmers, who now possess it, the chimney is of no great value; for
their fire was made on the floor, in the middle of the room, and
notwithstanding the dignity of their mansion, they rejoiced, like their
neighbours, in the comforts of smoke.
It is observed, that ecclesiastical colleges are always in the most
pleasant and fruitful places. While the world allowed the monks their
choice, it is surely no dishonour that they chose well. This Island is
remarkably fruitful. The village near the churches is said to contain
seventy families, which, at five in a family, is more than a hundred
inhabitants to a mile. There are perhaps other villages: yet both corn
and cattle are annually exported.
But the fruitfulness of Iona is now its whole prosperity. The
inhabitants are remarkably gross, and remarkably neglected: I know not if
they are visited by any Minister. The Island, which was once the
metropolis of learning and piety, has now no school for education, nor
temple for worship, only two inhabitants that can speak English, and not
one that can write or read.
The people are of the clan of Maclean; and though Sir Allan had not been
in the place for many years, he was received with all the reverence due
to their Chieftain. One of them being sharply reprehended by him, for
not sending him some rum, declared after his departure, in Mr. Boswell's
presence, that he had no design of disappointing him, 'for,' said he, 'I
would cut my bones for him; and if he had sent his dog for it, he should
have had it.'
When we were to depart, our boat was left by the ebb at a great distance
from the water, but no sooner did we wish it afloat, than the islanders
gathered round it, and, by the union of many hands, pushed it down the
beach; every man who could contribute his help seemed to think himself
happy in the opportunity of being, for a moment, useful to his Chief.
We now left those illustrious ruins, by which Mr. Boswell was much
affected, nor would I willingly be thought to have looked upon them
without some emotion. Perhaps, in the revolutions of the world, Iona may
be sometime again the instructress of the Western Regions.
It was no long voyage to Mull, where, under Sir Allan's protection, we
landed in the evening, and were entertained for the night by Mr. Maclean,
a Minister that lives upon the coast, whose elegance of conversation, and
strength of judgment, would make him conspicuous in places of greater
celebrity. Next day we dined with Dr. Maclean, another physician, and
then travelled on to the house of a very powerful Laird, Maclean of
Lochbuy; for in this country every man's name is Maclean.
Where races are thus numerous, and thus combined, none but the Chief of a
clan is addressed by his name. The Laird of Dunvegan is called Macleod,
but other gentlemen of the same family are denominated by the places
where they reside, as Raasa, or Talisker. The distinction of the meaner
people is made by their Christian names. In consequence of this
practice, the late Laird of Macfarlane, an eminent genealogist,
considered himself as disrespectfully treated, if the common addition was
applied to him. Mr. Macfarlane, said he, may with equal propriety be
said to many; but I, and I only, am Macfarlane.
Our afternoon journey was through a country of such gloomy desolation,
that Mr. Boswell thought no part of the Highlands equally terrifick, yet
we came without any difficulty, at evening, to Lochbuy, where we found a
true Highland Laird, rough and haughty, and tenacious of his dignity;
who, hearing my name, inquired whether I was of the Johnstons of
Glencroe, or of Ardnamurchan.
Lochbuy has, like the other insular Chieftains, quitted the castle that
sheltered his ancestors, and lives near it, in a mansion not very
spacious or splendid. I have seen no houses in the Islands much to be
envied for convenience or magnificence, yet they bare testimony to the
progress of arts and civility, as they shew that rapine and surprise are
no longer dreaded, and are much more commodious than the ancient
fortresses.
The castles of the Hebrides, many of which are standing, and many ruined,
were always built upon points of land, on the margin of the sea. For the
choice of this situation there must have been some general reason, which
the change of manners has left in obscurity. They were of no use in the
days of piracy, as defences of the coast; for it was equally accessible
in other places. Had they been sea-marks or light-houses, they would
have been of more use to the invader than the natives, who could want no
such directions of their own waters: for a watch-tower, a cottage on a
hill would have been better, as it would have commanded a wider view.
If they be considered merely as places of retreat, the situation seems
not well chosen; for the Laird of an Island is safest from foreign
enemies in the center; on the coast he might be more suddenly surprised
than in the inland parts; and the invaders, if their enterprise
miscarried, might more easily retreat. Some convenience, however,
whatever it was, their position on the shore afforded; for uniformity of
practice seldom continues long without good reason.
A castle in the Islands is only a single tower of three or four stories,
of which the walls are sometimes eight or nine feet thick, with narrow
windows, and close winding stairs of stone. The top rises in a cone, or
pyramid of stone, encompassed by battlements. The intermediate floors
are sometimes frames of timber, as in common houses, and sometimes arches
of stone, or alternately stone and timber; so that there was very little
danger from fire. In the center of every floor, from top to bottom, is
the chief room, of no great extent, round which there are narrow
cavities, or recesses, formed by small vacuities, or by a double wall. I
know not whether there be ever more than one fire-place. They had not
capacity to contain many people, or much provision; but their enemies
could seldom stay to blockade them; for if they failed in the first
attack, their next care was to escape.
The walls were always too strong to be shaken by such desultory
hostilities; the windows were too narrow to be entered, and the
battlements too high to be scaled. The only danger was at the gates,
over which the wall was built with a square cavity, not unlike a chimney,
continued to the top. Through this hollow the defendants let fall stones
upon those who attempted to break the gate, and poured down water,
perhaps scalding water, if the attack was made with fire. The castle of
Lochbuy was secured by double doors, of which the outer was an iron
grate.
In every castle is a well and a dungeon. The use of the well is evident.
The dungeon is a deep subterraneous cavity, walled on the sides, and
arched on the top, into which the descent is through a narrow door, by a
ladder or a rope, so that it seems impossible to escape, when the rope or
ladder is drawn up. The dungeon was, I suppose, in war, a prison for
such captives as were treated with severity, and, in peace, for such
delinquents as had committed crimes within the Laird's jurisdiction; for
the mansions of many Lairds were, till the late privation of their
privileges, the halls of justice to their own tenants.
As these fortifications were the productions of mere necessity, they are
built only for safety, with little regard to convenience, and with none
to elegance or pleasure. It was sufficient for a Laird of the Hebrides,
if he had a strong house, in which he could hide his wife and children
from the next clan. That they are not large nor splendid is no wonder.
It is not easy to find how they were raised, such as they are, by men who
had no money, in countries where the labourers and artificers could
scarcely be fed. The buildings in different parts of the Island shew
their degrees of wealth and power. I believe that for all the castles
which I have seen beyond the Tweed, the ruins yet remaining of some one
of those which the English built in Wales, would supply materials.
These castles afford another evidence that the fictions of romantick
chivalry had for their basis the real manners of the feudal times, when
every Lord of a seignory lived in his hold lawless and unaccountable,
with all the licentiousness and insolence of uncontested superiority and
unprincipled power. The traveller, whoever he might be, coming to the
fortified habitation of a Chieftain, would, probably, have been
interrogated from the battlements, admitted with caution at the gate,
introduced to a petty Monarch, fierce with habitual hostility, and
vigilant with ignorant suspicion; who, according to his general temper,
or accidental humour, would have seated a stranger as his guest at the
table, or as a spy confined him in the dungeon.
Lochbuy means the Yellow Lake, which is the name given to an inlet of the
sea, upon which the castle of Mr. Maclean stands. The reason of the
appellation we did not learn.
We were now to leave the Hebrides, where we had spent some weeks with
sufficient amusement, and where we had amplified our thoughts with new
scenes of nature, and new modes of life. More time would have given us a
more distinct view, but it was necessary that Mr. Boswell should return
before the courts of justice were opened; and it was not proper to live
too long upon hospitality, however liberally imparted.
Of these Islands it must be confessed, that they have not many
allurements, but to the mere lover of naked nature. The inhabitants are
thin, provisions are scarce, and desolation and penury give little
pleasure.
The people collectively considered are not few, though their numbers are
small in proportion to the space which they occupy. Mull is said to
contain six thousand, and Sky fifteen thousand. Of the computation
respecting Mull, I can give no account; but when I doubted the truth of
the numbers attributed to Sky, one of the Ministers exhibited such facts
as conquered my incredulity.
Of the proportion, which the product of any region bears to the people,
an estimate is commonly made according to the pecuniary price of the
necessaries of life; a principle of judgment which is never certain,
because it supposes what is far from truth, that the value of money is
always the same, and so measures an unknown quantity by an uncertain
standard. It is competent enough when the markets of the same country,
at different times, and those times not too distant, are to be compared;
but of very little use for the purpose of making one nation acquainted
with the state of another. Provisions, though plentiful, are sold in
places of great pecuniary opulence for nominal prices, to which, however
scarce, where gold and silver are yet scarcer, they can never be raised.
In the Western Islands there is so little internal commerce, that hardly
any thing has a known or settled rate. The price of things brought in,
or carried out, is to be considered as that of a foreign market; and even
this there is some difficulty in discovering, because their denominations
of quantity are different from ours; and when there is ignorance on both
sides, no appeal can be made to a common measure.
This, however, is not the only impediment. The Scots, with a vigilance
of jealousy which never goes to sleep, always suspect that an Englishman
despises them for their poverty, and to convince him that they are not
less rich than their neighbours, are sure to tell him a price higher than
the true. When Lesley, two hundred years ago, related so punctiliously,
that a hundred hen eggs, new laid, were sold in the Islands for a peny,
he supposed that no inference could possibly follow, but that eggs were
in great abundance. Posterity has since grown wiser; and having learned,
that nominal and real value may differ, they now tell no such stories,
lest the foreigner should happen to collect, not that eggs are many, but
that pence are few.
Money and wealth have by the use of commercial language been so long
confounded, that they are commonly supposed to be the same; and this
prejudice has spread so widely in Scotland, that I know not whether I
found man or woman, whom I interrogated concerning payments of money,
that could surmount the illiberal desire of deceiving me, by representing
every thing as dearer than it is.
From Lochbuy we rode a very few miles to the side of Mull, which faces
Scotland, where, having taken leave of our kind protector, Sir Allan, we
embarked in a boat, in which the seat provided for our accommodation was
a heap of rough brushwood; and on the twenty-second of October reposed at
a tolerable inn on the main land.
On the next day we began our journey southwards. The weather was
tempestuous. For half the day the ground was rough, and our horses were
still small. Had they required much restraint, we might have been
reduced to difficulties; for I think we had amongst us but one bridle. We
fed the poor animals liberally, and they performed their journey well. In
the latter part of the day, we came to a firm and smooth road, made by
the soldiers, on which we travelled with great security, busied with
contemplating the scene about us. The night came on while we had yet a
great part of the way to go, though not so dark, but that we could
discern the cataracts which poured down the hills, on one side, and fell
into one general channel that ran with great violence on the other. The
wind was loud, the rain was heavy, and the whistling of the blast, the
fall of the shower, the rush of the cataracts, and the roar of the
torrent, made a nobler chorus of the rough musick of nature than it had
ever been my chance to hear before. The streams, which ran cross the way
from the hills to the main current, were so frequent, that after a while
I began to count them; and, in ten miles, reckoned fifty-five, probably
missing some, and having let some pass before they forced themselves upon
my notice. At last we came to Inverary, where we found an inn, not only
commodious, but magnificent.
The difficulties of peregrination were now at an end. Mr. Boswell had
the honour of being known to the Duke of Argyle, by whom we were very
kindly entertained at his splendid seat, and supplied with conveniences
for surveying his spacious park and rising forests.
After two days stay at Inverary we proceeded Southward over Glencroe, a
black and dreary region, now made easily passable by a military road,
which rises from either end of the glen by an acclivity not dangerously
steep, but sufficiently laborious. In the middle, at the top of the
hill, is a seat with this inscription, 'Rest, and be thankful.' Stones
were placed to mark the distances, which the inhabitants have taken away,
resolved, they said, 'to have no new miles.'
In this rainy season the hills streamed with waterfalls, which, crossing
the way, formed currents on the other side, that ran in contrary
directions as they fell to the north or south of the summit. Being, by
the favour of the Duke, well mounted, I went up and down the hill with
great convenience.
From Glencroe we passed through a pleasant country to the banks of Loch
Lomond, and were received at the house of Sir James Colquhoun, who is
owner of almost all the thirty islands of the Loch, which we went in a
boat next morning to survey. The heaviness of the rain shortened our
voyage, but we landed on one island planted with yew, and stocked with
deer, and on another containing perhaps not more than half an acre,
remarkable for the ruins of an old castle, on which the osprey builds her
annual nest. Had Loch Lomond been in a happier climate, it would have
been the boast of wealth and vanity to own one of the little spots which
it incloses, and to have employed upon it all the arts of embellishment.
But as it is, the islets, which court the gazer at a distance, disgust
him at his approach, when he finds, instead of soft lawns; and shady
thickets, nothing more than uncultivated ruggedness.
Where the Loch discharges itself into a river, called the Leven, we
passed a night with Mr. Smollet, a relation of Doctor Smollet, to whose
memory he has raised an obelisk on the bank near the house in which he
was born. The civility and respect which we found at every place, it is
ungrateful to omit, and tedious to repeat. Here we were met by a post-
chaise, that conveyed us to Glasgow.
To describe a city so much frequented as Glasgow, is unnecessary. The
prosperity of its commerce appears by the greatness of many private
houses, and a general appearance of wealth. It is the only episcopal
city whose cathedral was left standing in the rage of Reformation. It is
now divided into many separate places of worship, which, taken all
together, compose a great pile, that had been some centuries in building,
but was never finished; for the change of religion intercepted its
progress, before the cross isle was added, which seems essential to a
Gothick cathedral.
The college has not had a sufficient share of the increasing magnificence
of the place. The session was begun; for it commences on the tenth of
October and continues to the tenth of June, but the students appeared not
numerous, being, I suppose, not yet returned from their several homes.
The division of the academical year into one session, and one recess,
seems to me better accommodated to the present state of life, than that
variegation of time by terms and vacations derived from distant
centuries, in which it was probably convenient, and still continued in
the English universities. So many solid months as the Scotch scheme of
education joins together, allow and encourage a plan for each part of the
year; but with us, he that has settled himself to study in the college is
soon tempted into the country, and he that has adjusted his life in the
country, is summoned back to his college.
Yet when I have allowed to the universities of Scotland a more rational
distribution of time, I have given them, so far as my inquiries have
informed me, all that they can claim. The students, for the most part,
go thither boys, and depart before they are men; they carry with them
little fundamental knowledge, and therefore the superstructure cannot be
lofty. The grammar schools are not generally well supplied; for the
character of a school-master being there less honourable than in England,
is seldom accepted by men who are capable to adorn it, and where the
school has been deficient, the college can effect little.
Men bred in the universities of Scotland cannot be expected to be often
decorated with the splendours of ornamental erudition, but they obtain a
mediocrity of knowledge, between learning and ignorance, not inadequate
to the purposes of common life, which is, I believe, very widely diffused
among them, and which countenanced in general by a national combination
so invidious, that their friends cannot defend it, and actuated in
particulars by a spirit of enterprise, so vigorous, that their enemies
are constrained to praise it, enables them to find, or to make their way
to employment, riches, and distinction.
From Glasgow we directed our course to Auchinleck, an estate devolved,
through a long series of ancestors, to Mr. Boswell's father, the present
possessor. In our way we found several places remarkable enough in
themselves, but already described by those who viewed them at more
leisure, or with much more skill; and stopped two days at Mr. Campbell's,
a gentleman married to Mr. Boswell's sister.
Auchinleck, which signifies a stony field, seems not now to have any
particular claim to its denomination. It is a district generally level,
and sufficiently fertile, but like all the Western side of Scotland,
incommoded by very frequent rain. It was, with the rest of the country,
generally naked, till the present possessor finding, by the growth of
some stately trees near his old castle, that the ground was favourable
enough to timber, adorned it very diligently with annual plantations.
Lord Auchinleck, who is one of the Judges of Scotland, and therefore not
wholly at leisure for domestick business or pleasure, has yet found time
to make improvements in his patrimony. He has built a house of hewn
stone, very stately, and durable, and has advanced the value of his lands
with great tenderness to his tenants.
I was, however, less delighted with the elegance of the modern mansion,
than with the sullen dignity of the old castle. I clambered with Mr.
Boswell among the ruins, which afford striking images of ancient life. It
is, like other castles, built upon a point of rock, and was, I believe,
anciently surrounded with a moat. There is another rock near it, to
which the drawbridge, when it was let down, is said to have reached.
Here, in the ages of tumult and rapine, the Laird was surprised and
killed by the neighbouring Chief, who perhaps might have extinguished the
family, had he not in a few days been seized and hanged, together with
his sons, by Douglas, who came with his forces to the relief of
Auchinleck.
At no great distance from the house runs a pleasing brook, by a red rock,
out of which has been hewn a very agreeable and commodious summer-house,
at less expence, as Lord Auchinleck told me, than would have been
required to build a room of the same dimensions. The rock seems to have
no more dampness than any other wall. Such opportunities of variety it
is judicious not to neglect.
We now returned to Edinburgh, where I passed some days with men of
learning, whose names want no advancement from my commemoration, or with
women of elegance, which perhaps disclaims a pedant's praise.
The conversation of the Scots grows every day less unpleasing to the
English; their peculiarities wear fast away; their dialect is likely to
become in half a century provincial and rustick, even to themselves. The
great, the learned, the ambitious, and the vain, all cultivate the
English phrase, and the English pronunciation, and in splendid companies
Scotch is not much heard, except now and then from an old Lady.
There is one subject of philosophical curiosity to be found in Edinburgh,
which no other city has to shew; a college of the deaf and dumb, who are
taught to speak, to read, to write, and to practice arithmetick, by a
gentleman, whose name is Braidwood. The number which attends him is, I
think, about twelve, which he brings together into a little school, and
instructs according to their several degrees of proficiency.
I do not mean to mention the instruction of the deaf as new. Having been
first practised upon the son of a constable of Spain, it was afterwards
cultivated with much emulation in England, by Wallis and Holder, and was
lately professed by Mr. Baker, who once flattered me with hopes of seeing
his method published. How far any former teachers have succeeded, it is
not easy to know; the improvement of Mr. Braidwood's pupils is wonderful.
They not only speak, write, and understand what is written, but if he
that speaks looks towards them, and modifies his organs by distinct and
full utterance, they know so well what is spoken, that it is an
expression scarcely figurative to say, they hear with the eye. That any
have attained to the power mentioned by Burnet, of feeling sounds, by
laying a hand on the speaker's mouth, I know not; but I have seen so
much, that I can believe more; a single word, or a short sentence, I
think, may possibly be so distinguished.
It will readily be supposed by those that consider this subject, that Mr.
Braidwood's scholars spell accurately. Orthography is vitiated among
such as learn first to speak, and then to write, by imperfect notions of
the relation between letters and vocal utterance; but to those students
every character is of equal importance; for letters are to them not
symbols of names, but of things; when they write they do not represent a
sound, but delineate a form.
This school I visited, and found some of the scholars waiting for their
master, whom they are said to receive at his entrance with smiling
countenances and sparkling eyes, delighted with the hope of new ideas.
One of the young Ladies had her slate before her, on which I wrote a
question consisting of three figures, to be multiplied by two figures.
She looked upon it, and quivering her fingers in a manner which I thought
very pretty, but of which I know not whether it was art or play,
multiplied the sum regularly in two lines, observing the decimal place;
but did not add the two lines together, probably disdaining so easy an
operation. I pointed at the place where the sum total should stand, and
she noted it with such expedition as seemed to shew that she had it only
to write.
It was pleasing to see one of the most desperate of human calamities
capable of so much help; whatever enlarges hope, will exalt courage;
after having seen the deaf taught arithmetick, who would be afraid to
cultivate the Hebrides?
Such are the things which this journey has given me an opportunity of
seeing, and such are the reflections which that sight has raised. Having
passed my time almost wholly in cities, I may have been surprised by
modes of life and appearances of nature, that are familiar to men of
wider survey and more varied conversation. Novelty and ignorance must
always be reciprocal, and I cannot but be conscious that my thoughts on
national manners, are the thoughts of one who has seen but little.