‘Sir, he had, upon the alledgeance foresaid, been transported, at Lochiel’s desire, to France, to gratify the M’Martins, and upon his return home, about five years ago, married: But now he is so much threatened by the M’Martins, that he is not secure enough to stay where he is, being Ardmurchan, which occasions this trouble to you. Wishing prosperity and happiness to attend still yourself, worthy Lady, and good family, we are, in the most affectionate manner,
‘Dear Sir,
‘Your most obliged, affectionate,
‘And most humble Servants,
‘DUGALL CAMERON, of Strone.
DUGALL CAMERON, of Barr.
DUGALL CAMERON, of Inveriskvouilline.
DUGALL CAMERON, of Invinvalie.’
‘Strone, 11th March, 1737.’
Ewen Cameron was protected, and his son has now a farm from the Laird of Col, in Mull.
The family of Col was very loyal in the time of the great Montrose, from whom I found two letters in his own handwriting. The first is as follows: —
FOR MY VERY LOVING FRIEND THE LAIRD OF COALL.
‘Sir,
‘I must heartily thank you for all your willingness and good affection to his Majesty’s service, and particularly the sending alongs of your son, to who I will heave ane particular respect, hopeing also that you will still continue ane goode instrument for the advanceing ther of the King’s service, for which, and all your former loyal carriages, be confident you shall find the effects of his Ma’s favour, as they can be witnessed you by
‘Your very faithful friende,
‘MONTROSE.’
‘Strethearne, 20 Jan. 1646.’
The other is: —
‘FOR THE LAIRD OF COL.
‘SIR,
‘Having occasion to write to your fields, I cannot be forgetful of your willingness and good affection to his Majesty’s service. I acknowledge to you, and thank you heartily for it, assuring, that in what lies in my power, you shall find the good. Meanwhile, I shall expect that you will continue your loyal endeavours, in wishing those slack people that are about you, to appear more obedient than they do, and loyal in their prince’s service; whereby I assure you, you shall find me ever
‘Your faithful friend,
‘MONTROSE.’
‘Petty, 17 April, 1646.’
I found some uncouth lines on the death of the present laird’s father, intituled ‘Nature’s Elegy upon the death of Donald Maclean of Col.’ They are not worth insertion. I shall only give what is called his Epitaph, which Dr. Johnson said, ‘was not so very bad.’
‘Nature’s minion, Virtue’s wonder,
Art’s corrective here lyes under.’
I asked, what ‘Art’s corrective’ meant. ‘Why, Sir, (said he,) that the laird was so exquisite, that he set art right, when she was wrong.’
I found several letters to the late Col, from my father’s old companion at Paris, Sir Hector M’Lean, one of which was written at the time of settling the colony in Georgia. It dissuades Col from letting people go there, and assures him there will soon be an opportunity of employing them better at home. Hence it appears that emigration from the Highlands, though not in such numbers at a time as of late, has always been practised. Dr. Johnson observed that ‘the Lairds, instead of improving their country, diminished their people.’
There are several districts of sandy desart in Col. There are forty-eight lochs of fresh water; but many of them are very small, — meer pools. About one half of them, however, have trout and eel. There is a great number of horses in the island, mostly of a small size. Being over-stocked, they sell some in Tir-yi, and on the main land. Their black cattle, which are chiefly rough-haired, are reckoned remarkably good. The climate being very mild in winter, they never put their beasts in any house. The lakes are never frozen so as to bear a man; and snow never lies above a few hours. They have a good many sheep, which they eat mostly themselves, and sell but a few. They have goats in several places. There are no foxes; no serpents, toads, or frogs, nor any venomous creature. They have otters and mice here; but had no rats till lately that an American vessel brought them. There is a rabbit-warren on the north-east of the island, belonging to the Duke of Argyle. Young Col intends to get some hares, of which there are none at present. There are no black-cock, muir-fowl, nor partridges; but there are snipe, wild-duck, wild-geese, and swans, in winter; wild-pidgeons, plover, and great number of starlings; of which I shot some, and found them pretty good eating. Woodcocks come hither, though there is not a tree upon the island. There are no rivers in Col; but only some brooks, in which there is a great variety of fish. In the whole isle there are but three hills, and none of them considerable for a Highland country. The people are very industrious. Every man can tan. They get oak, and birch-bark, and lime, from the main land. Some have pits; but they commonly use tubs. I saw brogues very well tanned; and every man can make them. They all make candles of the tallow of their beasts, both moulded and dipped; and they all make oil of the livers of fish. The little fish called Cuddies produce a great deal. They sell some oil out of the island, and they use it much for light in their houses, in little iron lamps, most of which they have from England; but of late their own blacksmith makes them. He is a good workman; but he has no employment in shoeing horses, for they all go unshod here, except some of a better kind belonging to young Col, which were now in Mull. There are two carpenters in Col; but most of the inhabitants can do something as boat-carpenters. They can all dye. Heath is used for yellow; and for red, a moss which grows on stones. They make broad-cloth, and tartan, and linen, of their own wool and flax, sufficient for their own use; as also stockings. Their bonnets come from the mainland. Hard-ware and several small articles are brought annually from Greenock, and sold in the only shop in the island, which is kept near the house, or rather hut, used for publick worship, there being no church in the island. The inhabitants of Col have increased considerably within these thirty years, as appears from the parish registers. There are but three considerable tacksmen on Col’s part of the island: the rest is let to small tenants, some of whom pay so low a rent as four, three, or even two guineas. The highest is seven pounds, paid by a farmer, whose son goes yearly on foot to Aberdeen for education, and in summer returns, and acts as a schoolmaster in Col. Dr. Johnson said, ‘There is something noble in a young man’s walking two hundred miles and back again, every year, for the sake of learning.’
This day a number of people came to Col, with complaints of each others’ trespasses. Corneck, to prevent their being troublesome, told them, that the lawyer from Edinburgh was here, and if they did not agree, he would take them to task. They were alarmed at this; said, they had never been used to go to law, and hoped Col would settle matters himself. In the evening Corneck left us.
As, in our present confinement, any thing that had even the name of curious was an object of attention, I proposed that Col should shew me the great stone, mentioned in a former page, as having been thrown by a giant to the top of a mountain. Dr. Johnson, who did not like to be left alone, said he would accompany us as far as riding was practicable. We ascended a part of the hill on horseback, and Col and I scrambled up the rest. A servant held our horses, and Dr. Johnson placed himself on the ground, with his back against a large fragment of rock. The wind being high, he let down the cocks of his hat, and tied it with his handkerchief under his chin. While we were employed in examining the stone, which did not repay our trouble in getting to it, he amused himself with reading Gataker on Lots and on the Christian Watch, a very learned book, of the last age, which had been found in the garret of Col’s house, and which he said was a treasure here. When we descried him from above, he had a most eremitical appearance; and on our return told us, he had been so much engaged by Gataker, that he had never missed us. His avidity for variety of books, while we were in Col, was frequently expressed; and he often complained that so few were within his reach. Upon which I observed to him, that it was strange he should complain of want of books
, when he could at any time make such good ones.
We next proceeded to the lead mine. In our way we came to a strand of some extent, where we were glad to take a gallop, in which my learned friend joined with great alacrity. Dr. Johnson, mounted on a large bay mare without shoes, and followed by a foal, which had some difficulty in keeping up with him, was a singular spectacle.
After examining the mine, we returned through a very uncouth district, full of sand hills; down which, though apparent precipices, our horses carried us with safety, the sand always gently sliding away from their feet. Vestiges of houses were pointed out to us, which Col, and two others who had joined us, asserted had been overwhelmed with sand blown over them. But, on going close to one of them, Dr. Johnson shewed the absurdity of the notion, by remarking, that ‘it was evidently only a house abandoned, the stones of which had been taken away for other purposes; for the large stones, which form the lower part of the walls, were still standing higher than the sand. If they were not blown over, it was clear nothing higher than they could be blown over.’ This was quite convincing to me; but it made not the least impression on Col and the others, who were not to be argued out of a Highland tradition.
We did not sit down to dinner till between six and seven. We lived plentifully here, and had a true welcome. In such a season good firing was of no small importance. The peats were excellent, and burned cheerfully. Those at Dunvegan, which were damp, Dr. Johnson called ‘a sullen fuel.’ Here a Scottish phrase was singularly applied to him. One of the company having remarked that he had gone out on a stormy evening, and brought in a supply of peats from the stack, old Mr. M’Sweyn said, ‘that was main honest!’
Blenheim being occasionally mentioned, he told me he had never seen it: he had not gone formerly; and he would not go now, just as a common spectator, for his money: he would not put it in the power of some man about the Duke of Marlborough to say, ‘Johnson was here; I knew him, but I took no notice of him.’ He said, he should be very glad to see it, if properly invited, which in all probability would never be the case, as it was not worth his while to seek for it. I observed, that he might be easily introduced there by a common friend of ours, nearly related to the duke. He answered, with an uncommon attention to delicacy of feeling, ‘I doubt whether our friend be on such a footing with the duke as to carry any body there; and I would not give him the uneasiness of seeing that I knew he was not, or even of being himself reminded of it.’
SUNDAY, OCTOBER 10.
There was this day the most terrible storm of wind and rain that I ever remember. It made such an awful impression on us all, as to produce, for some time, a kind of dismal quietness in the house. The day was passed without much conversation: only, upon my observing that there must be something bad in a man’s mind, who does not like to give leases to his tenants, but wishes to keep them in a perpetual wretched dependance on his will, Dr. Johnson said, ‘You are right: it is a man’s duty to extend comfort and security among as many people as he can. He should not wish to have his tenants mere Ephemerae, — mere beings of an hour.’ BOSWELL. ‘But, Sir, if they have leases is there not some danger that they may grow insolent? I remember you yourself once told me, an English tenant was so independent, that, if provoked, he would throw his rent at his landlord.’ JOHNSON. ‘Depend upon it, Sir, it is the landlord’s own fault, if it is thrown at him. A man may always keep his tenants in dependence enough, though they have leases. He must be a good tenant indeed, who will not fall behind in his rent, if his landlord will let him; and if he does fall behind, his landlord has him at his mercy. Indeed, the poor man is always much at the mercy of the rich; no matter whether landlord or tenant. If the tenant lets his landlord have a little rent beforehand, or has lent him money, then the landlord is in his power. There cannot be a greater man than a tenant who has lent money to his landlord; for he has under subjection the very man to whom he should be subjected.’
MONDAY, OCTOBER II.
We had some days ago engaged the Campbelltown vessel to carry us to Mull, from the harbour where she lay. The morning was fine, and the wind fair and moderate; so we hoped at length to get away.
Mrs. M’Sweyn, who officiated as our landlady here, had never been on the main land. On hearing this, Dr. Johnson said to me, before her, ‘That is rather being behind-hand with life. I would at least go and see Glenelg.’ BOSWELL. ‘You yourself, Sir, have never seen, till now, any thing but your native island.’ JOHNSON. ‘But, Sir, by seeing London, I have seen as much of life as the world can shew.’ BOSWELL. ‘You have not seen Pekin.’ JOHNSON. ‘What is Pekin? Ten thousand Londoners would drive all the people of Pekin: they would drive them like deer.’
We set out about eleven for the harbour; but, before we reached it, so violent a storm came on, that we were obliged again to take shelter in the house of Captain M’Lean, where we dined, and passed the night.
TUESDAY, OCTOBER 12.
After breakfast, we made a second attempt to get to the harbour; but another storm soon convinced us that it would be in vain. Captain M’Lean’s house being in some confusion, on account of Mrs. M’Lean being expected to lie-in, we resolved to go to Mr. M’Sweyn’s, where we arrived very wet, fatigued, and hungry. In this situation, we were somewhat disconcerted by being told that we should have no dinner till late in the evening, but should have tea in the mean time. Dr. Johnson opposed this arrangement; but they persisted, and he took the tea very readily. He said to me afterwards, ‘You must consider, Sir, a dinner here is a matter of great consequence. It is a thing to be first planned, and then executed. I suppose the mutton was brought some miles off, from some place where they knew there was a sheep killed.’
Talking of the good people with whom we were, he said, ‘Life has not got at all forward by a generation in M’Sweyn’s family; for the son is exactly formed upon the father. What the father says, the son says; and what the father looks, the son looks.’
There being little conversation to-night, I must endeavour to recollect what I may have omitted on former occasions. When I boasted, at Rasay, of my independency of spirit, and that I could not be bribed, he said, ‘Yes, you may be bribed by flattery.’ At the Reverend Mr. M’Lean’s, Dr. Johnson asked him, if the people of Col had any superstitions. He said, ‘No.’ The cutting peats at the increase of the moon was mentioned as one; but he would not allow it, saying, it was not a superstition, but a whim. Dr. Johnson would not admit the distinction. There were many superstitions, he maintained, not connected with religion; and this was one of them. On Monday we had a dispute at the Captain’s, whether sand-hills could be fixed down by art. Dr. Johnson said, ‘How the devil can you do it?’ but instantly corrected himself, ‘How can you do it?’ I never before heard him use a phrase of that nature.
He has particularities which it is impossible to explain. He never wears a night-cap, as I have already mentioned; but he puts a handkerchief on his head in the night. The day that we left Talisker, he bade us ride on. He then turned the head of his horse back towards Talisker, stopped for some time; then wheeled round to the same direction with ours, and then came briskly after us. He sets open a window in the coldest day or night, and stands before it. It may do with his constitution; but most people, amongst whom I am one, would say, with the frogs in the fable, ‘This may be sport to you; but it is death to us.’ It is in vain to try to find a meaning in every one of his particularities, which, I suppose, are mere habits, contracted by chance; of which every man has some that are more or less remarkable. His speaking to himself, or rather repeating, is a common habit with studious men accustomed to deep thinking; and, in consequence of their being thus rapt, they will even laugh by themselves, if the subject which they are musing on is a merry one. Dr. Johnson is often uttering pious ejaculations, when he appears to be talking to himself; for sometimes his voice grows stronger, and parts of the Lord’s Prayer are heard. I have sat beside him with more than ordinary reverence on such occasions.
In our Tour, I observed that he was disgus
ted whenever he met with coarse manners. He said to me, ‘I know not how it is, but I cannot bear low life: and I find others, who have as good a right as I to be fastidious, bear it better, by having mixed more with different sorts of men. You would think that I have mixed pretty well too.’
He read this day a good deal of my Journal, written in a small book with which he had supplied me, and was pleased, for he said, ‘I wish thy books were twice as big.’ He helped me to fill up blanks which I had left in first writing it, when I was not quite sure of what he had said, and he corrected any mistakes that I had made. ‘They call me a scholar, (said he,) and yet how very little literature is there in my conversation.’ BOSWELL. ‘That, Sir, must be according to your company. You would not give literature to those who cannot taste it. Stay till we meet Lord Elibank.’
We had at last a good dinner, or rather supper, and were very well satisfied with our entertainment.
WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 13.
Col called me up, with intelligence that it was a good day for a passage to Mull; and just as we rose, a sailor from the vessel arrived for us. We got all ready with dispatch. Dr. Johnson was displeased at my bustling, and walking quickly up and down. He said, ‘It does not hasten us a bit. It is getting on horseback in a ship. All boys do it; and you are longer a boy than others.’ He himself has no alertness, or whatever it may be called; so he may dislike it, as Oderunt hilarem tristes.
Before we reached the harbour, the wind grew high again. However, the small boat was waiting and took us on board. We remained for some time in uncertainty what to do: at last it was determined, that, as a good part of the day was over, and it was dangerous to be at sea at night, in such a vessel, and such weather, we should not sail till the morning tide, when the wind would probably be more gentle. We resolved not to go ashore again, but lie here in readiness. Dr. Johnson and I had each a bed in the cabin. Col sat at the fire in the fore-castle, with the captain, and Joseph, and the rest. I eat some dry oatmeal, of which I found a barrel in the cabin. I had not done this since I was a boy. Dr. Johnson owned that he too was fond of it when a boy; a circumstance which I was highly pleased to hear from him, as it gave me an opportunity of observing that, notwithstanding his joke on the article of OATS, he was himself a proof that this kind of food was not peculiar to the people of Scotland.
Complete Works of Samuel Johnson Page 849
