Books: The Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides with Samuel Johnson, LL.D.

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Dr Johnson was now wishing to move. There was not enough of
intellectual entertainment for him, after he had satisfyed his
curiosity, which he did, by asking questions, till he had exhausted
the island; and where there was so numerous a company, mostly young
people, there was such a flow of familiar talk, so much noise, and so
much singing and dancing, that little opportunity was left for his
energetick conversation. He seemed sensible of this; for when I told
him how happy they were at having him there, he said, 'Yet we have not
been able to entertain them much.' I was fretted, from irritability of
nerves, by M'Cruslick's too obstreperous mirth. I complained of it to
my friend, observing we should be better if he was gone. 'No, sir,'
said he. 'He puts something into our society, and takes nothing out of
it.' Dr Johnson, however, had several opportunities of instructing the
company; but I am sorry to say, that I did not pay sufficient
attention to what passed, as his discourse now turned chiefly on
mechanicks, agriculture and such subjects, rather than on science and
wit. Last night Lady Rasay shewed him the operation of wawking cloth,
that is, thickening it in the same manner as is done by a mill. Here
it is performed by women, who kneel upon the ground, and rub it with
both their hands, singing an Erse song all the time. He was asking
questions while they were performing this operation, and, amidst their
loud and wild howl, his voice was heard even in the room above.

They dance here every night. The queen of our ball was the eldest Miss
Macleod, of Rasay, an elegant well-bred woman, and celebrated for her
beauty over all those regions, by the name of Miss Flora Rasay.
[Footnote: She had been some time at Edinburgh, to which she again
went, and was married to my worthy neighbour, Colonel Mure Campbell,
now Earl of Loudoun; but she died soon afterwards, leaving one
daughter.] There seemed to be no jealousy, no discontent among them;
and the gaiety of the scene was such, that I for a moment doubted
whether unhappiness had any place in Rasay. But my delusion was soon
dispelled, by recollecting the following lines of my fellow-traveller:

Yet hope not life from grief or danger free,
Nor think the doom of man revers'd for thee!

Sunday, 12th September

It was a beautiful day, and although we did not approve of travelling
on Sunday, we resolved to set out, as we were in an island from whence
one must take occasion as it serves. Macleod and Talisker sailed in a
boat of Rasay's for Sconser, to take the shortest way to Dunvegan.
M'Cruslick went with them to Sconser, from whence he was to go to
Slate, and so to the main land. We were resolved to pay a visit at
Kingsburgh, and see the celebrated Miss Flora Macdonald, who is
married to the present Mr Macdonald of Kingsburgh; so took that road,
though not so near. All the family, but Lady Rasay, walked down to the
shore to see us depart. Rasay himself went with us in a large boat,
with eight oars, built in his island; as did Mr Malcolm M'Cleod, Mr
Donald M'Queen, Dr Macleod, and some others. We had a most pleasant
sail between Rasay and Sky; and passed by a cave, where Martin says
fowls were caught by lighting fire in the mouth of it. Malcolm
remembers this. But it is not now practised, as few fowls come into
it.

We spoke of death. Dr Johnson on this subject observed, that the
boastings of some men, as to dying easily, were idle talk, proceeding
from partial views. I mentioned Hawthornden's Cypress Grove, where it
is said that the world is a mere show; and that it is unreasonable for
a man to wish to continue in the show-room, after he has seen it. Let
him go cheerfully out, and give place to other spectators. JOHNSON.
'Yes, sir, if he is sure he is to be well, after he goes out of it.
But if he is to grow blind after he goes out of the show-room, and
never to see any thing again; or if he does not know whither he is to
go next, a man will not go cheerfully out of a show-room. No wise man
will be contented to die, if he thinks he is to go into a state of
punishment. Nay, no wise man will be contented to die, if he thinks he
is to fall into annihilation: for however unhappy any man's existence
may be, he yet would rather have it, than not exist at all. No; there
is no rational principle by which a man can die contented, but a trust
in the mercy of God, through the merits of Jesus Christ.' This short
sermon, delivered with an earnest tone, in a boat upon the sea, which
was perfectly calm, on a day appropriated to religious worship, while
every one listened with an air of satisfaction, had a most pleasing
effect upon my mind.

Pursuing the same train of serious reflection, he added, that it
seemed certain that happiness could not be found in this life, because
so many had tried to find it, in such a variety of ways, and had not
found it.

We reached the harbour of Portree, in Sky, which is a large and good
one. There was lying in it a vessel to carry off the emigrants, called
the Nestor. It made a short settlement of the differences between a
chief and his clan:

... Nestor componere lites
Inter Peleiden festinat & inter Atriden.

We approached her, and she hoisted her colours. Dr Johnson and Mr
M'Queen remained in the boat: Rasay and I, and the rest went on board
of her. She was a very pretty vessel, and, as we were told, the
largest in Clyde. Mr Harrison, the captain shewed her to us. The cabin
was commodious, and even elegant. There was a little library, finely
bound. Portree has its name from King James the Fifth having landed
there in his tour through the Western Isles, Ree in Erse being King,
as Re is in Italian; so it is Port-Royal. There was here a tolerable
inn. On our landing, I had the pleasure of finding a letter from home;
and there were also letters to Dr Johnson and me, from Lord Elibank,
which had been sent after us from Edinburgh. His lordship's letter to
me was as follows:

Dear Boswell,

I flew to Edinburgh the moment I heard of Mr Johnson's arrival; but so
defective was my intelligence, that I came too late. It is but justice
to believe, that I could never forgive myself, nor deserve to be
forgiven by others, if I was to foil in any mark of respect to that
very great genius.--I hold him in the highest veneration: for that
very reason I was resolved to take no share in the merit, perhaps
guilt, of inticing him to honour this country with a visit.--I could
not persuade myself there was any thing in Scotland worthy to have a
Summer of Samuel Johnson bestowed on it; but since he has done us that
compliment, for heaven's sake inform me of your motions. I will attend
them most religiously; and though I should regret to let Mr Johnson go
a mile out of his way on my account, old as I am, I shall be glad to
go five hundred miles to enjoy a day of his company. Have the charity
to send a council-post [Footnote: A term in Scotland for a special
messenger, such as was formerly sent with dispatches by the lords of
the council.] with intelligence; the post does not suit us in the
country. At any rate write to me. I will attend you in the north, when
I shall know where to find you.

I am,
My dear Boswell,
Your sincerely
Obedient humble servant,
ELIBANK.
August 21st, 1773.

The letter to Dr Johnson was in these words:

Dear Sir,

I was to have kissed your hands at Edinburgh, the moment I heard of
you; but you were gone.

I hope my friend Boswell will inform me of your motions. It will be
cruel to deprive me an instant of the honour of attending you. As I
value you more than any King in Christendom, I will perform that duty
with infinitely greater alacrity than any courtier. I can contribute
but little to your entertainment; but, my sincere esteem for you gives
me some tide to the opportunity of expressing it.

I dare say you are by this time sensible that things are pretty much
the same, as when Buchanan complained of being born solo et seculo
inerudito. Let me hear of you, and be persuaded that none of your
admirers is more sincerely devoted to you, than,

Dear Sir,
Your most obedient,
And most humble servant,
ELIBANK.

Dr Johnson, on the following Tuesday, answered for both of us, thus:

My Lord,

On the rugged shore of Skie, I had the honour of your lordship's
letter, and can with great truth declare, that no place is so gloomy
but that it would be cheered by such a testimony of regard, from a
mind so well qualified to estimate characters, and to deal out
approbation in its due proportions. If I have more than my share, it
is your lordship's fault; for I have always reverenced your judgment
too much, to exalt myself in your presence by any false pretensions.

Mr Boswell and I are at present at the disposal of the winds, and
therefore cannot fix the time at which we shall have the honour of
seeing your lordship. But we should either of us think ourselves
injured by the supposition that we would miss your lordship's
conversation, when we could enjoy it; for I have often declared that I
never met you without going away a wiser man.

I am, my Lord,
Your lordship's most obedient
And most humble servant,
SAM. JOHNSON.

At Portree, Mr Donald M'Queen went to church and officiated in Erse,
and then came to dinner. Dr Johnson and I resolved that we should
treat the company, so I played the landlord, or master of the feast,
having previously ordered Joseph to pay the bill.

Sir James Macdonald intended to have built a village here, which would
have done great good. A village is like a heart to a country. It
produces a perpetual circulation, and gives the people an opportunity
to make profit of many little articles, which would otherwise be in a
good measure lost. We had here a dinner, et praeterea nihil. Dr
Johnson did not talk. When we were about to depart, we found that
Rasay had been before-hand with us, and that all was paid: I would
fain have contested this matter with him, but seeing him resolved, I
declined it. We parted with cordial embraces from him and worthy
Malcolm. In the evening Dr Johnson and I remounted our horses,
accompanied by Mr M'Queen and Dr Macleod. It rained very hard. We rode
what they call six miles, upon Rasay's lands in Sky, to Dr Macleod's
house. On the road Dr Johnson appeared to be somewhat out of spirits.
When I talked of our meeting Lord Elibank, he said, 'I cannot be with
him much. I long to be again in civilized life; but can stay but for a
short while' (he meant at Edinburgh). He said, 'Let us go to Dunvegan
to-morrow.' 'Yes,' said I, 'if it is not a deluge.' 'At any rate,' he
replied. This shewed a kind of fretful impatience; nor was it to be
wondered at, considering our disagreeable ride. I feared he would give
up Mull and Icolmkill, for he said something of his apprehensions of
being detained by bad weather in going to Mull and Iona. However I
hoped well. We had a dish of tea at Dr Macleod's, who had a pretty
good house, where was his brother, a half-pay officer. His lady was a
polite, agreeable woman. Dr Johnson said, he was glad to see that he
was so well married, for he had an esteem for physicians. The doctor
accompanied us to Kingsburgh, which is called a mile farther; but the
computation of Sky has no connection whatever with real distance.

I was highly pleased to see Dr Johnson safely arrived at Kingsburgh,
and received by the hospitable Mr Macdonald, who, with a most
respectful attention, supported him into the house. Kingsburgh was
completely the figure of a gallant highlander, exhibiting 'the
graceful mien and manly looks', which our popular Scotch song has
justly attributed to that character. He had his tartan plaid thrown
about him, a large blue bonnet with a knot of black ribband like a
cockade, a brown short coat of a kind of duffil, a tartan waistoat
with gold buttons and gold button-holes, a bluish philibeg, and tartan
hose. He had jet black hair tied behind, and was a large stately man,
with a steady sensible countenance.

There was a comfortable parlour with a good fire, and a dram went
round. By and by supper was served, at which there appeared the lady
of the house, the celebrated Miss Flora Macdonald. She is a little
woman, of a genteel appearance, and uncommonly mild and well bred. To
see Dr Samuel Johnson, the great champion of the English Tories,
salute Miss Flora Macdonald in the isle of Sky, was a striking sight;
for though somewhat congenial in their notions, it was very improbable
they should meet here.

Miss Flora Macdonald (for so I shall call her) told me, she heard upon
the main land, as she was returning home about a fortnight before,
that Mr Boswell was coming to Sky, and one Mr Johnson, a young English
buck, with him. He was highly entertained with this fancy. Giving an
account of the afternoon which we passed at Anock, he said, 'I, being
a BUCK, had miss in to make tea.' He was rather quiescent tonight, and
went early to bed. I was in a cordial humour, and promoted a cheerful
glass. The punch was excellent. Honest Mr M'Queen observed that I was
in high glee, 'my governour being gone to bed'. Yet in reality my
heart was grieved, when I recollected that Kingsburgh was embarrassed
in his affairs, and intended to go to America. However, nothing but
what was good was present, and I pleased myself in thinking that so
spirited a man should be well every where. I slept in the same room
with Dr Johnson. Each had a neat bed, with tartan curtains, in an
upper chamber.

Monday, 13th September

The room where we lay was a celebrated one. Dr Johnson's bed was the
very bed in which the grandson of the unfortunate King James the
Second [Footnote: I do not call him the Prince of Wales, or the
Prince, because I am quite satisfied that the right which the House of
Stuart had to the throne is extinguished. I do not call him the
Pretender, because it appears to me as an insult to one who is still
alive, and, I suppose, thinks very differently. It may be a
parliamentary expression; but it is not a gentlemanly expression. I
KNOW, and I exult in having it in my power to tell, that the ONLY
PERSON in the world who is intitled to be offended at this delicacy,
thinks and feels as I do; and has liberality of mind and generosity of
sentiment enough to approve of my tenderness for what even HAS BEEN
Blood Royal. That he is A PRINCE by COURTESY, cannot be denied;
because his mother was the daughter of Sobiesky, king of Poland. I
shall, therefore, ON THAT ACCOUNT ALONE, distinguish him by the name
of PRINCE CHARLES EDWARD.] lay, on one of the nights after the failure
of his rash attempt in 1745-6, while he was eluding the pursuit of the
emissaries of government, which had offered thirty thousand pounds as
a reward for apprehending him. To see Dr Samuel Johnson lying in that
bed, in the isle of Sky, in the house of Miss Flora Macdonald, struck
me with such a group of ideas as it is not easy for words to describe,
as they passed through the mind. He smiled and said, 'I have had no
ambitious thoughts in it.' [Footnote: This perhaps, was said in
allusion to some lines ascribed to Pope, on his lying, at John Duke of
Argyle's, at Adderbury, in the same bed in which Wilmot, Earl of
Rochester, had slept.

With no poetick ardour fir'd,
I press the bed where Wilmot lay.
That here he liv'd; or here expir'd.
Begets no numbers, grave or gay.]

The room was decorated with a great variety of maps and prints. Among
others, was Hogarth's print of Wilkes grinning, with the cap of
liberty on a pole by him. That too was a curious circumstance in the
scene this morning; such a contrast was Wilkes to the above group. It
reminded me of Sir William Chambers's Account of Oriental Gardening,
in which we are told all odd, strange, ugly, and even terrible
objects, are introduced, for the sake of variety; a wild extravagance
of taste which is so well ridiculed in the celebrated Epistle to him.
The following lines of that poem immediately occurred to me;

Here too, O king of vengeance! in thy fane,
Tremendous Wilkes shall rattle his gold chain.

Upon the table in our room I found in the morning a slip of paper, on
which Dr Johnson had written with his pencil these words:

Quantum cedat virtutibus aurum.
[Footnote: With virtue weigh'd, what worthless trash is gold!]

What he meant by writing them I could not tell. [Footnote: Since the
first edition of this book, an ingenious friend has observed to me,
that Dr Johnson had probably been thinking on the reward which was
offered by government for the apprehension of the grandson of King
James II and that he meant by these words to express his admiration of
the Highlanders, whose fidelity and attachment had resisted the golden
temptation that had been held out to them.] He had caught cold a day
or two ago, and the rain yesterday having made it worse, he was become
very deaf. At breakfast he said, he would have given a good deal
rather than not have lain in that bed. I owned he was the lucky man;
and observed, that without doubt it had been contrived between Mrs
Macdonald and him. She seemed to acquiesce; adding, 'You know young
BUCKS are always favourites of the ladies.' He spoke of Prince Charles
being here, and asked Mrs Macdonald, 'WHO was with him? We were told,
madam, in England, there was one Miss Flora Macdonald with him.' She
said, 'they were very right'; and perceiving Dr Johnson's curiosity,
though he had delicacy enough not to question her, very obligingly
entertained him with a recital of the particulars which she herself
knew of that escape, which does so much honour to the humanity,
fidelity, and generosity, of the Highlanders. Dr Johnson listened to
her with placid attention, and said, 'All this should be written
down.'

From what she told us, and from what I was told by others personally
concerned, and from a paper of information which Rasay was so good as
to send me, at my desire, I have compiled the following abstract,
which, as it contains some curious anecdotes, will, I imagine not be
uninteresting to my readers, and even, perhaps, be of some use to
future historians.

Prince Charles Edward, after the battle of Culloden, was conveyed to
what is called the Long Island, where he lay for some time concealed.
But intelligence having been obtained where he was, and a number of
troops having come in quest of him, it became absolutely necessary for
him to quit that country without delay. Miss Flora Macdonald, then a
young lady, animated by what she thought the sacred principle of
loyalty, offered, with the magnanimity of a heroine, to accompany him
in an open boat to Sky, though the coast they were to quit was guarded
by ships. He dressed himself in women's clothes, and passed as her
supposed maid, by the name of Betty Bourke, an Irish girl. They got
off undiscovered, though several shots were fired to bring them to,
and landed at Mugstot, the seat of Sir Alexander Macdonald. Sir
Alexander was then at Fort Augustus, with the Duke of Cumberland; but
his lady was at home. Prince Charles took his post upon a hill near
the house. Flora Macdonald waited on Lady Margaret, and acquainted her
of the enterprise in which she was engaged. Her ladyship, whose active
benevolence was ever seconded by superior talents, shewed a perfect
presence of mind, and readiness of invention, and at once settled that
Prince Charles should be conducted to old Rasay, who was himself
concealed with some select friends. The plan was instantly
communicated to Kingsburgh, who was dispatched to the hill to inform
the Wanderer, and carry him refreshments. When Kingsburgh approached,
he started up, and advanced, holding a large knotted stick, and in
appearance ready to knock him down, till he said, 'I am Macdonald of
Kingsburgh, come to serve your highness.' The Wanderer answered, 'It
is well,' and was satisfied with the plan.

Flora Macdonald dined with Lady Margaret, at whose table there sat an
officer of the army, stationed here with a party of soldiers, to watch
for Prince Charles in case of his flying to the isle of Sky. She
afterwards often laughed in good humour with this gentleman, on her
having so well deceived him.

After dinner, Flora Macdonald on horseback, and her supposed maid, and
Kingsburgh, with a servant carrying some linen, all on foot, proceeded
towards that gentleman's house. Upon the road was a small rivulet
which they were obliged to cross. The Wanderer, forgetting his assumed
sex, that his clothes might not be wet, held them up a great deal too
high. Kingsburgh mentioned this to him, observing, it might make a
discovery. He said he would be more careful for the future. He was as
good as his word; for the next brook they crossed, he did not hold up
his clothes at all, but let them float upon the water. He was very
awkward in his female dress. His size was so large, and his strides so
great, that some women whom they met reported that they had seen a
very big woman, who looked like a man in woman's clothes, and that
perhaps it was (as they expressed themselves) the PRINCE, after whom
so much search was making.

At Kingsburgh he met with a most cordial reception; seemed gay at
supper, and after it indulged himself in a cheerful glass with his
worthy host. As he had not had his clothes off for a long time, the
comfort of a good bed was highly relished by him, and he slept soundly
till next day at one o'clock.

The mistress of Corrichatachin told me, that in the forenoon she went
into her father's room, who was also in bed, and suggested to him her
apprehensions that a party of the military might come up, and that his
guest had better not remain here too long. Her father said, 'Let the
poor man repose himself after his fatigues; and as for me, I care not,
though they take off this old grey head ten or eleven years sooner
than I should die in the course of nature.' He then wrapped himself in
the bed-clothes, and again fell fast asleep.

On the afternoon of that day, the Wanderer, still in the same dress,
set out for Portree, with Flora Macdonald and a man servant. His shoes
being very bad, Kingsburgh provided him with a new pair, and taking up
the old ones, said, 'I will faithfully keep them till you are safely
settled at St James's. I will then introduce myself by shaking them at
you, to put you in mind of your night's entertainment and protection
under my roof.' He smiled, and said, 'Be as good as your word!'
Kingsburgh kept the shoes as long as he lived. After his death, a
zealous Jacobite gentleman gave twenty guineas for them. Old Mrs
Macdonald, after her guest had left the house, took the sheets in
which he had lain, folded them carefully, and charged her daughter
that they should be kept unwashed, and that, when she died, her body
should be wrapped in them as a winding sheet. Her will was religiously
observed.

Upon the road to Portree, Prince Charles changed his dress, and put on
man's clothes again; a tartan short coat and a waistcoat, with
philibeg and short hose, a plaid, and a wig and bonnet.

Mr Donald M'Donald, called Donald Roy, had been sent express to the
present Rasay, then the young laird, who was at that time at his
sister's house, about three miles from Portree, attending his brother,
Dr Macleod, who was recovering of a wound he had received at the
battle of Culloden. Mr M'Donald communicated to young Rasay the plan
of conveying the Wanderer to where old Rasay was; but was told that
old Rasay had fled to Knoidart, a part of Glengary's estate. There was
then a dilemma what should be done. Donald Roy proposed that he should
conduct the Wanderer to the main land; but young Rasay thought it too
dangerous at that time, and said it would be better to conceal him in
the island of Rasay, till old Rasay could be informed where he was,
and give his advice what was best. But the difficulty was, how to get
him to Rasay. They could not trust a Portree crew, and all the Rasay
boats had been destroyed, or carried off by the military except two
belonging to Malcolm M'Leod, which he had concealed somewhere.

Dr Macleod being informed of this difficulty, said he would risk his
life once more for Prince Charles; and it having occurred, that there
was a little boat upon a fresh water lake in the neighbourhood, young
Rasay and Dr Macleod, with the help of some women, brought it to the
sea, by extraordinary exertion, across a Highland mile of land, one
half of which was bog, and the other a steep precipice.

These gallant brothers, with the assistance of one little boy, rowed
the small boat to Rasay, where they were to endeavour to find Captain
M'Leod, as Malcolm was then called, and get one of his good boats,
with which they might return to Portree, and receive the Wanderer; or,
in case of not finding him, they were to make the small boat serve,
though the danger was considerable.

Fortunately, on their first landing, they found their cousin Malcolm,
who, with the utmost alacrity, got ready one of his boats, with two
strong men. John M'Kenzie, and Donald M'Friar. Malcolm, being the
oldest man, and most cautious, said, that as young Rasay had not
hitherto appeared in the unfortunate business, he ought not to run any
risk; but that Dr Macleod and himself, who were already publickly
engaged, should go on this expedition. Young Rasay answered, with an
oath, that he would go, at the risk of his life and fortune. 'In God's
name then,' said Malcolm, 'let us proceed.' The two boatmen, however,
now stopped short, till they should be informed of their destination;
and M'Kenzie declared he would not move an oar till he knew where they
were going. Upon which they were both sworn to secrecy; and the
business being imparted to them, they were eager to put off to sea
without loss of time. The boat soon landed about half a mile from the
inn at Portree.

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