instead of
‘I will speak daggers to her; but use none.’
We had a dinner of two complete courses, variety of wines, and the regimental band of musick playing in the square, before the windows, after it. I enjoyed this day much. We were quite easy and cheerful. Dr. Johnson said, ‘I shall always remember this fort with gratitude.’ I could not help being struck with some admiration, at finding upon this barren sandy point, such buildings, — such a dinner, — such company: it was like enchantment. Dr. Johnson, on the other hand, said to me more rationally, that ‘it did not strike him as any thing extraordinary; because he knew, here was a large sum of money expended in building a fort; here was a regiment. If there had been less than what we found, it would have surprised him.’ He looked coolly and deliberately through all the gradations: my warm imagination jumped from the barren sands to the splendid dinner and brilliant company, to borrow the expression of an absurd poet,
‘Without ands or ifs,
I leapt from off the sands upon the cliffs.’
The whole scene gave me a strong impression of the power and excellence of human art.
We left the fort between six and seven o’clock: Sir Eyre Coote, Colonel Pennington, and several more accompanied us down stairs, and saw us into our chaise. There could not be greater attention paid to any visitors. Sir Eyre spoke of the hardships which Dr. Johnson had before him. BOSWELL. ‘Considering what he has said of us, we must make him feel something rough in Scotland.’ Sir Eyre said to him, ‘You must change your name, Sir.’ BOSWELL. ‘Ay, to Dr. M’Gregor.’ We got safely to Inverness, and put up at Mackenzie’s inn. Mr. Keith, the collector of Excise here, my old acquaintance at Ayr, who had seen us at the Fort, visited us in the evening, and engaged us to dine with him next day, promising to breakfast with us, and take us to the English chapel; so that we were at once commodiously arranged.
Not finding a letter here that I expected, I felt a momentary impatience to be at home. Transient clouds darkened my imagination, and in those clouds I saw events from which I shrunk; but a sentence or two of the Rambler’s conversation gave me firmness, and I considered that I was upon an expedition for which I had wished for years, and the recollection of which would be a treasure to me for life.
SUNDAY, AUGUST 29.
Mr. Keith breakfasted with us. Dr. Johnson expatiated rather too strongly upon the benefits derived to Scotland from the Union, and the bad state of our people before it. I am entertained with his copious exaggeration upon that subject; but I am uneasy when people are by, who do not know him as well as I do, and may be apt to think him narrow-minded. I therefore diverted the subject.
The English chapel, to which we went this morning, was but mean. The altar was a bare fir table, with a coarse stool for kneeling on, covered with a piece of thick sail-cloth doubled, by way of cushion. The congregation was small. Mr. Tait, the clergyman, read prayers very well, though with much of the Scotch accent. He preached on ‘Love your Enemies.’ It was remarkable that, when talking of the connections amongst men, he said, that some connected themselves with men of distinguished talents, and since they could not equal them, tried to deck themselves with their merit, by being their companions. The sentence was to this purpose. It had an odd coincidence with what might be said of my connecting myself with Dr. Johnson.
After church we walked down to the Quay. We then went to Macbeth’s castle. I had a romantick satisfaction in seeing Dr. Johnson actually in it. It perfectly corresponds with Shakspear’s description, which Sir Joshua Reynolds has so happily illustrated, in one of his notes on our immortal poet:
‘This castle hath a pleasant seat: the air
Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself
Unto our gentle sense,’ &c.
Just as we came out of it, a raven perched on one of the chimney-tops, and croaked. Then I repeated
‘ —— The raven himself is hoarse,
That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan
Under my battlements.’
We dined at Mr. Keith’s. Mrs. Keith was rather too attentive to Dr. Johnson, asking him many questions about his drinking only water. He repressed that observation, by saying to me, ‘You may remember that Lady Errol took no notice of this.’
Dr. Johnson has the happy art (for which I have heard my father praise the old Earl of Aberdeen) of instructing himself, by making every man he meets tell him something of what he knows best. He led Keith to talk to him of the Excise in Scotland, and, in the course of conversation, mentioned that his friend Mr. Thrale, the great brewer, paid twenty thousand pounds a year to the revenue; and that he had four casks, each of which holds sixteen hundred barrels, — above a thousand hogsheads.
After this there was little conversation that deserves to be remembered.
I shall therefore here again glean what I have omitted on former days.
Dr. Gerrard, at Aberdeen, told us, that when he was in Wales, he was
shewn a valley inhabited by Danes, who still retain their own language,
and are quite a distinct people. Dr. Johnson thought it could not be
true, or all the kingdom must have heard of it. He said to me, as we
travelled, ‘these people, Sir, that Gerrard talks of, may have somewhat
of a peregrinity in their dialect, which relation has augmented to a
different language.’ I asked him if peregrinity was an English word:
he laughed, and said, ‘No.’ I told him this was the second time that I
had heard him coin a word. When Foote broke his leg, I observed
that it would make him fitter for taking off George Faulkner as Peter
Paragraph, poor George having a wooden leg. Dr. Johnson at that
time said, ‘George will rejoice at the depeditation of Foote;’ and
when I challenged that word, laughed, and owned he had made it, and
added that he had not made above three or four in his Dictionary.
Having conducted Dr. Johnson to our inn, I begged permission to leave
him for a little, that I might run about and pay some short visits to
several good people of Inverness. He said to me ‘You have all the
old-fashioned principles, good and bad’ I acknowledge I have. That of
attention to relations in the remotest degree, or to worthy persons, in
every state whom I have once known, I inherit from my father. It gave me
much satisfaction to hear every body at Inverness speak of him with
uncommon regard. Mr. Keith and Mr. Grant, whom we had seen at Mr.
M’Aulay’s, supped with us at the inn. We had roasted kid, which Dr.
Johnson had never tasted before. He relished it much.
MONDAY, AUGUST 30.
This day we were to begin our equitation, as I said; for I would needs make a word too. It is remarkable, that my noble, and to me most constant friend, the Earl of Pembroke, (who, if there is too much ease on my part, will please to pardon what his benevolent, gay, social intercourse, and lively correspondence have insensibly produced,) has since hit upon the very same word. The title of the first edition of his lordship’s very useful book was, in simple terms, A Method of breaking Horses and teaching Soldiers to ride. The title of the second edition is, ‘MILITARY EQUITATION.’
We might have taken a chaise to Fort Augustus, but, had we not hired horses at Inverness, we should not have found them afterwards: so we resolved to begin here to ride. We had three horses, for Dr. Johnson, myself, and Joseph, and one which carried our portmanteaus, and two Highlanders who walked along with us, John Hay and Lauchland Vass, whom Dr. Johnson has remembered with credit in his JOURNEY, though he has omitted their names. Dr. Johnson rode very well. About three miles beyond Inverness, we saw, just by the road, a very complete specimen of what is called a Druid’s temple. There was a double circle, one of very large, the other of smaller stones. Dr. Johnson justly observed, that ‘to go and see one druidical temple is only to see
that it is nothing, for there is neither art nor power in it; and seeing one is quite enough.’
It was a delightful day. Lochness, and the road upon the side of it, shaded with birch trees, and the hills above it, pleased us much. The scene was as sequestered and agreeably wild as could be desired, and for a time engrossed all our attention.
To see Dr. Johnson in any new situation is always an interesting object to me; and, as I saw him now for the first time on horseback, jaunting about at his ease in quest of pleasure and novelty, the very different occupations of his former laborious life, his admirable productions, his London, his Rambler, &c. &c., immediately presented themselves to my mind, and the contrast made a strong impression on my imagination.
When we had advanced a good way by the side of Lochness, I perceived a little hut, with an old-looking woman at the door of it. I thought here might be a scene that would amuse Dr. Johnson; so I mentioned it to him. ‘Let’s go in,’ said he. We dismounted, and we and our guides entered the hut. It was a wretched little hovel of earth only, I think, and for a window had only a small hole, which was stopped with a piece of turf, that was taken out occasionally to let in light. In the middle of the room or space which we entered, was a fire of peat, the smoke going out at a hole in the roof. She had a pot upon it, with goat’s flesh, boiling. There was at one end under the same roof, but divided by a kind of partition made of wattles, a pen or fold in which we saw a good many kids.
Dr. Johnson was curious to know where she slept. I asked one of the guides, who questioned her in Erse. She answered with a tone of emotion, saying, (as he told us,) she was afraid we wanted to go to bed to her. This coquetry, or whatever it may be called, of so wretched a being, was truly ludicrous. Dr. Johnson and I afterwards were merry upon it. I said it was he who alarmed the poor woman’s virtue. ‘No, Sir, (said he,) she’ll say “there came a wicked young fellow, a wild dog, who I believe would have ravished me, had there not been with him a grave old gentleman, who repressed him: but when he gets out of the sight of his tutor, I’ll warrant you he’ll spare no woman he meets, young or old.”’ ‘No, Sir, (I replied,) she’ll say, “There was a terrible ruffian who would have forced me, had it not been for a civil decent young man who, I take it, was an angel sent from heaven to protect me.”’
Dr. Johnson would not hurt her delicacy, by insisting on ‘seeing her bed-chamber,’ like Archer in the Beaux Stratagem. But my curiosity was more ardent; I lighted a piece of paper, and went into the place where the bed was. There was a little partition of wicker, rather more neatly done than that for the fold, and close by the wall was a kind of bedstead of wood with heath upon it by way of bed! at the foot of which I saw some sort of blankets or covering rolled up in a heap. The woman’s name was Fraser; so was her husband’s. He was a man of eighty. Mr. Fraser of Balnain allows him to live in this hut, and keep sixty goats, for taking care of his woods, where he then was. They had five children, the eldest only thirteen. Two were gone to Inverness to buy meal; the rest were looking after the goats. This contented family had four stacks of barley, twenty-four sheaves in each. They had a few fowls. We were informed that they lived all the spring without meal, upon milk and curds and whey alone. What they get for their goats, kids, and fowls, maintains them during the rest of the year. She asked us to sit down and take a dram. I saw one chair. She said she was as happy as any woman in Scotland. She could hardly speak any English except a few detached words. Dr. Johnson was pleased at seeing, for the first time, such a state of human life. She asked for snuff. It is her luxury, and she uses a great deal. We had none; but gave her sixpence a piece. She then brought out her whiskey bottle. I tasted it; as did Joseph and our guides, so I gave her sixpence more. She sent us away with many prayers in Erse.
We dined at a publick house called the General’s Hut, from General Wade, who was lodged there when he commanded in the North. Near it is the meanest parish Kirk I ever saw. It is a shame it should be on a high road. After dinner, we passed through a good deal of mountainous country. I had known Mr. Trapaud, the deputy governour of Fort Augustus, twelve years ago, at a circuit at Inverness, where my father was judge. I sent forward one of our guides, and Joseph, with a card to him, that he might know Dr. Johnson and I were coming up, leaving it to him to invite us or not. It was dark when we arrived. The inn was wretched. Government ought to build one, or give the resident governour an additional salary; as in the present state of things, he must necessarily be put to a great expence in entertaining travellers. Joseph announced to us, when we alighted, that the governour waited for us at the gate of the fort. We walked to it. He met us, and with much civility conducted us to his house. It was comfortable to find ourselves in a well-built little square, and a neatly furnished house, in good company, and with a good supper before us; in short, with all the conveniences of civilised life in the midst of rude mountains. Mrs. Trapaud, and the governour’s daughter, and her husband, Captain Newmarsh, were all most obliging and polite. The governour had excellent animal spirits, the conversation of a soldier, and somewhat of a Frenchman, to which his extraction entitles him. He is brother to General Cyrus Trapaud. We passed a very agreeable evening.
TUESDAY, AUGUST 31.
The governour has a very good garden. We looked at it, and at the rest of the fort, which is but small, and may be commanded from a variety of hills around. We also looked at the galley or sloop belonging to the fort, which sails upon the Loch, and brings what is wanted for the garrison. Captains Urie and Darippe, of the 15th regiment of foot, breakfasted with us. They had served in America, and entertained Dr. Johnson much with an account of the Indians. He said, he could make a very pretty book out of them, were he to stay there. Governour Trapaud was much struck with Dr. Johnson. ‘I like to hear him, (said he,) it is so majestick. I should be glad to hear him speak in your court.’ He pressed us to stay dinner; but I considered that we had a rude road before us, which we could more easily encounter in the morning, and that it was hard to say when we might get up, were we to sit down to good entertainment, in good company: I therefore begged the governour would excuse us. Here too, I had another very pleasing proof how much my father is regarded. The governour expressed the highest respect for him, and bade me tell him, that, if he would come that way on the Northern circuit, he would do him all the honours of the garrison.
Between twelve and one we set out, and travelled eleven miles, through a wild country, till we came to a house in Glenmorison, called Anoch, kept by a McQueen. Our landlord was a sensible fellow; he had learned his grammar, and Dr. Johnson justly observed, that ‘a man is the better for that as long as he lives.’ There were some books here: a Treatise against Drunkenness, translated from the French; a volume of The Spectator; a volume of Prideaux’s Connection, and Cyrus’s Travels. McQueen said he had more volumes; and his pride seemed to be much piqued that we were surprised at his having books.
Near to this place we had passed a party of soldiers, under a serjeant’s command, at work upon the road. We gave them two shillings to drink. They came to our inn, and made merry in the barn. We went and paid them a visit, Dr. Johnson saying, ‘Come, let’s go and give ’em another shilling a-piece.’ We did so; and he was saluted ‘MY LORD’ by all of them. He is really generous, loves influence, and has the way of gaining it. He said, ‘I am quite feudal, Sir.’ Here I agree with him. I said, I regretted I was not the head of a clan; however, though not possessed of such an hereditary advantage, I would always endeavour to make my tenants follow me. I could not be a patriarchal chief, but I would be a feudal chief.
The poor soldiers got too much liquor. Some of them fought, and left blood upon the spot, and cursed whiskey next morning. The house here was built of thick turfs, and thatched with thinner turfs and heath. It had three rooms in length, and a little room which projected. Where we sat, the side-walls were wainscotted, as Dr. Johnson said, with wicker, very neatly plaited. Our landlord had made the whole with his own hands.
After dinner, McQueen sat by us a
while, and talked with us. He said, all the Laird of Glenmorison’s people would bleed for him if they were well used; but that seventy men had gone out of the Glen to America. That he himself intended to go next year; for that the rent of his farm, which twenty years ago was only five pounds, was now raised to twenty pounds. That he could pay ten pounds and live; but no more. Dr. Johnson said, he wished M’Queen laird of Glenmorison, and the laird to go to America. M’Queen very generously answered, he should be sorry for it; for the laird could not shift for himself in America as he could do.
I talked of the officers whom we had left to-day; how much service they had seen, and how little they got for it, even of fame. JOHNSON. ‘Sir, a soldier gets as little as any man can get.’ BOSWELL. ‘Goldsmith has acquired more fame than all the officers last war, who were not Generals.’ JOHNSON. ‘Why, Sir, you will find ten thousand fit to do what they did, before you find one who does what Goldsmith has done. You must consider, that a thing is valued according to its rarity. A pebble that paves the street is in itself more useful than the diamond upon a lady’s finger.’ I wish our friend Goldsmith had heard this.
I yesterday expressed my wonder that John Hay, one of our guides, who had been pressed aboard a man of war, did not choose to continue in it longer than nine months, after which time he got off. JOHNSON. ‘Why, Sir, no man will be a sailor, who has contrivance enough to get himself into a jail; for, being in a ship is being in a jail, with the chance of being drowned.’ We had tea in the afternoon, and our landlord’s daughter, a modest civil girl, very neatly drest, made it for us. She told us, she had been a year at Inverness, and learnt reading and writing, sewing, knotting, working lace, and pastry. Dr. Johnson made her a present of a book which he had bought at Inverness.
The room had some deals laid across the joists, as a kind of ceiling. There were two beds in the room, and a woman’s gown was hung on a rope to make a curtain of separation between them. Joseph had sheets, which my wife had sent with us, laid on them. We had much hesitation, whether to undress, or lie down with our clothes on. I said at last, ‘I’ll plunge in! There will be less harbour for vermin about me, when I am stripped!’ Dr. Johnson said, he was like one hesitating whether to go into the cold bath. At last he resolved too. I observed he might serve a campaign. JOHNSON. ‘I could do all that can be done by patience: whether I should have strength enough, I know not.’ He was in excellent humour. To see the Rambler as I saw him to-night, was really an amusement. I yesterday told him, I was thinking of writing a poetical letter to him, on his return from Scotland, in the style of Swift’s humorous epistle in the character of Mary Gulliver to her husband, Captain Lemuel Gulliver, on his return to England from the country of the HOUYHNHUMS: —
Complete Works of Samuel Johnson Page 834
