We set out, accompanied by Mr Donald M'Leod (late of Canna) as our
guide. We rode for some time along the district of Slate, near the
shore. The houses in general are made of turf, covered with grass. The
country seemed well peopled. We came into the district of Strath, and
passed along a wild moorish tract of land till we arrived at the
shore. There we found good verdure, and some curious whin-rocks, or
collections of stones like the ruins of the foundations of old
buildings. We saw also three cairns of considerable size.
About a mile beyond Broadfoot, is Corrichatachin, a farm of Sir
Alexander Macdonald's, possessed by Mr M'Kinnon, [Footnote: That my
readers may have my narrative in the style of the country through
which I am travelling, it is proper to inform them, that the chief of
a clan is denominated by his SURNAME alone, as M'Leod, M'Kinnon.
M'Intosh. To prefix MR to it would be a degradation from THE M'Leod,
&c. My old friend, the Laird of M'Farlane, the great antiquary, took
it highly amiss, when General Wade called him Mr M'Farlane. Dr Johnson
said, he could not bring himself to use this mode of address: it
seemed to him to be too familiar, as it is the way in which, in all
other places, intimates or inferiors are addressed. When the chiefs
have TITLES, they are denominated by them, as SIR JAMES GRANT. SIR
ALLAN M'LEAN. The other Highland gentlemen, of landed property, are
denominated by their ESTATES, as RASAY, BOISDALE; and the wives of all
of them have the title of ladies. The TACKSMEN, or principal tenants,
are named by their farms, as KINGSBURGH, CORRICHATACHIN; and their
wives are called the MISTRESS of Kingsburgh, the MISTRESS of
Corrichatachin. Having given this explanation, I am at liberty to use
that mode of speech which generally prevails in the Highlands and the
Hebrides.] who received us with a hearty welcome, as did his wife, who
was what we call in Scotland a LADY-LIKE woman. Mr Pennant, in the
course of his tour to the Hebrides, passed two nights at this
gentleman's house. On its being mentioned, that a present had here
been made to him of a curious specimen of Highland antiquity, Dr
Johnson said, 'Sir, it was more than he deserved: the dog is a Whig.'
We here enjoyed the comfort of a table plentifully furnished, the
satisfaction of which was heightened by a numerous and cheerful
company; and we for the first time had a specimen of the joyous social
manners of the inhabitants of the Highlands. They talked in their own
ancient language, with fluent vivacity, and sung many Erse songs with
such spirit, that, though Dr Johnson was treated with the greatest
respect and attention, there were moments in which he seemed to be
forgotten. For myself, though but a lowlander, having picked up a few
words of the language, I presumed to mingle in their mirth, and joined
in the choruses with as much glee as any of the company. Dr Johnson
being fatigued with his journey, retired early to his chamber, where
he composed the following Ode, addressed to Mrs Thrale: