Memoirs of the Life of Sir Walter Scott, Bart.
Walter Scott, Island Journal, 12-16 August 1814
“12th August, 1814.—With a
good breeze and calm sea we weighed at two in the morning, and worked by short
tacks up to Kirkwall bay, and find ourselves in that fine basin upon rising in
the morning. The town looks well from the sea, but is chiefly indebted to the
huge old cathedral that rises out of the centre. Upon landing we find it but a
poor and dirty place, especially towards the harbour. Farther up the town are
seen some decent old-fashioned houses, and the Sheriff’s interest secures
us good lodgings. Marchie goes to hunt for
a pointer. The morning, which was rainy, clears up pleasantly, and Hamilton, Erskine, Duff, and I walk
to Malcolm Laing’s, who has a
pleasant house about half a-mile from the town. Our old acquaintance, though an
invalid, received us kindly; he looks very poorly, and cannot walk without
assistance, but seems to retain all the quick, earnest, and vivacious
intelligence of his character and manner. After this visit the antiquities of
the place, viz.: the Bishop’s palace, the Earl of Orkney’s castle,
and the cathedral, all situated within a stonecast of each other. The two
former are ruinous. The most prominent part of the ruins of the Bishop’s
palace is a large round tower, similar to that
| DIARY—KIRKWALL, AUG. 12, 1814. | 185 |
of Bothwell in architecture, but not
equal to it in size. This was built by Bishop
Reid, tempore Jacobi V., and there is a rude
statue of him in a niche in the front. At the north-east corner of the building
is a square tower of greater antiquity, called the Mense or Mass Tower; but, as
well as a second and smaller round tower, it is quite ruinous. A suite of
apartments of different sizes fill up the space between these towers, all now
ruinous. The building is said to have been of great antiquity, but was
certainly in a great measure re-edified in the sixteenth century. Fronting this
castle or palace of the Bishop, and about a gun-shot distant, is that of the
Earl of Orkney. The Earl’s palace was built by Patrick Stewart, Earl of Orkney, the same who erected that of
Scalloway, in Shetland. It is an elegant structure, partaking at once of the
character of a palace and castle. The building forms three sides of an oblong
square, but one of the sides extends considerably beyond the others. The great
hall must have been remarkably handsome, opening into two or three huge rounds
or turrets, the lower part of which is divided by stone shafts into three
windows. It has two immense chimneys, the arches or lintels of which are formed
by a flat arch, as at Crichton Castle. There is another very handsome apartment
communicating with the hall like a modern drawingroom, and which has, like the
former, its projecting turrets. The hall is lighted by a fine Gothic-shafted
window at one end, and by others on the sides. It is approached by a spacious
and elegant staircase of three flights of steps. The dimensions may be sixty
feet long, twenty broad, and fourteen high, but doubtless an arched roof sprung
from the side walls, so that fourteen feet was only the height from the ground
to the arches. Any modern architect, wishing to emulate the real Gothic
architecture, and 186 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
apply it to the purposes of modern
splendour, might derive excellent hints from this room. The exterior ornaments
are also extremely elegant. The ruins, once the residence of this haughty and
oppressive Earl, are now so disgustingly nasty, that it required all the zeal
of an antiquary to prosecute the above investigation. Architecture seems to
have been Earl Patrick’s prevailing taste. Besides
this castle and that of Scalloway, he added to or enlarged the old castle of
Bressay. To accomplish these objects, he oppressed the people with severities
unheard-of even in that oppressive age, drew down on himself a shameful though
deserved punishment, and left these dishonoured ruins to hand down to posterity
the tale of his crimes and of his fall. We may adopt, though in another sense,
his own presumptuous motto—Sic Fuit, Est, et
Erit.
“We visit the cathedral, dedicated to St Magnus, which greeted the sheriff’s
approach with a merry peal. Like that of Glasgow, this church has escaped the
blind fury of Reformation. It was founded in 1138, by Ronald, Earl of
Orkney, nephew of the Saint. It is of great size, being 260 feet
long, or thereabout, and supported by twenty-eight Saxon pillars, of good
workmanship. The round arch predominates in the building, but I think not
exclusively. The steeple (once a very high spire) rises upon four pillars of
great strength, which occupy each angle of the nave. Being destroyed by
lightning, it was rebuilt upon a low and curtailed plan. The appearance of the
building is rather massive and gloomy than elegant, and many of the exterior
ornaments, carving around the door-ways, &c., have been injured by time. We
entered the cathedral, the whole of which is kept locked, swept, and in good
order, although only the eastern end is used for divine worship. We walked some
time in the nave and west-
ern end,
which is left unoccupied, and has a very solemn effect as the avenue to the
place of worship. There were many tombstones on the floor and elsewhere, some,
doubtless, of high antiquity. One, I remarked, had the shield of arms hung by
the corner, with a helmet above it of a large proportion, such as I have seen
on the most ancient seals. But we had neither time nor skill to decipher what
noble Orcadian lay beneath. The church is as well fitted up as could be
expected; much of the old carved oak remains, but with a motley mixture of
modern deal pews. All, however, is neat and clean, and does great honour to the
kirk-session who maintain its decency. I remarked particularly Earl Patrick’s seat, adjoining to that of
the magistrates, but surmounting it and every other in the church; it is
surrounded with a carved screen of oak, rather elegant, and bears his arms and
initials, and the motto I have noticed. He bears the royal arms without any
mark of bastardy (his father was a natural son of James
V.) quarterly, with a lymphad or galley, the ancient arms of the
county. This circumstance was charged against him on his trial.* I understand
the late Mr Gilbert * “This noted oppressor was finally
brought to trial, and beheaded at the Cross of Edinburgh [6th
February, 1614.] It is said that the King’s mood was
considerably heated against him by some ill-chosen and worse
written Latin inscriptions with which his father and himself had
been unlucky enough to decorate some of their insular palaces. In
one of these, Earl Robert, the father, had
given his own designation thus: ‘Orcadiæ Comes Rex Jacobi
quinti filius.’ In this case he was not,
perhaps, guilty of any thing worse than bad Latin. But James VI. who had a keen nose for
puzzling out treason, and with whom an assault and battery upon
Priscian ranked in nearly
the same degree of crime, had little doubt that the use of the
nominative Rex, instead of the genitive Regis, had a treasonable savour.”
Scott’s Miscellaneous Prose Works, vol. xxiii. p. 232.
|
188 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
Laing Meason left the interest of L.1000
to keep up this cathedral.
“There are in the street facing the cathedral the
ruins of a much more ancient castle; a proper feudal fortress belonging to the
Earls of Orkney, but called the King’s Castle. It appears to have been
very strong, being situated near the harbour, and having, as appears from the
fragments, very massive walls. While the wicked Earl
Patrick was in confinement, one of his natural sons defended
this castle to extremity against the King’s troops, and only surrendered
when it was nearly a heap of ruins, and then under condition he should not be
brought in evidence against his father.
“We dine at the inn, and drink the Prince Regent’s health, being that of the
day—Mr Baikie of Tankerness dines
with us.
“13th August, 1814.—A bad
morning, but clears up. No letters from Edinburgh. The country about Kirkwall
is flat, and tolerably cultivated. We see oxen generally wrought in the small
country carts, though they have a race of ponies, like those of Shetland, but
larger. Marchie goes to shoot on a hill
called Whiteford, which slopes away about two or three miles from Kirkwall. The
grouse is abundant, for the gentleman who chaperons
Marchie killed thirteen brace and a half, with a
snipe. There are no partridges nor hares. The soil of Orkney is better, and its
air more genial than Shetland; but it is far less interesting, and possesses
none of the wild and peculiar character of the more northern archipelago. All
vegetables grow here freely in the gardens, and there are one or two attempts
at trees where they are sheltered by walls. How ill they succeed may be
conjectured from our bringing with us a quantity of brushwood, commissioned by
Malcolm Laing from Aberhrothock, to
be sticks
to his pease. This trash
we brought two hundred miles. I have little to add, except that the Orkney
people have some odd superstitions about a stone on which they take oaths to
Odin. Lovers often perform this
ceremony in pledge of mutual faith, and are said to account it a sacred
engagement. It is agreed that we go on board after dinner, and sail with the
next tide. The magistrates of Kirkwall present us with the freedom of their
ancient burgh; and Erskine, instead of
being cumbered with drunken sailors, as at Lerwick, or a drunken schoolmaster,
as at Fair Isle, is annoyed by his own substitute. This will occasion his
remaining two days at Kirkwall, during which time it is proposed we shall visit
the lighthouse upon the dangerous rocks called the Skerries, in the Pentland
Firth; and then, returning to the eastern side of Pomona, take up the
counsellor at Stromness. It is further settled that we leave
Marchie with Erskine to get
another day’s shooting. On board at ten o’clock, after a little
bustle in expediting our domestics, washerwomen, &c.
“14th August, 1814.—Sail
about four, and in rounding the main land of Orkney, called Pomona, encounter a
very heavy sea; about ten o’clock, get into the Sound of Holm or Ham, a
fine smooth current meandering away between two low green islands, which have
little to characterise them. On the right of the Sound is the mainland, and a
deep bay called Scalpa Flow indents it up to within two miles of Kirkwall. A
canal through this neck of the island would be of great consequence to the
burgh. We see the steeple and church of Kirkwall across the island very
distinctly. Getting out of the Sound of Holm, we stand into the harbour or
roadstead of Widewall, where we find seven or eight foreign vessels bound for
Ireland, and a sloop belonging to the lighthouse service. These roadsteads are
common all through
190 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
the Orkneys, and afford excellent
shelter for small vessels. The day is pleasant and sunny, but the breeze is too
high to permit landing at the Skerries. Agree, therefore, to stand over for the
mainland of Scotland, and visit Thurso. Enter the Pentland Frith, so celebrated
for the strength and fury of its tides, which is boiling even in this pleasant
weather; we see a large ship battling with this heavy current, and though with
all her canvass set and a breeze, getting more and more involved. See the two
Capes of Dungsby or Duncansby, and Dunnet-head, between which lies the
celebrated John o’ Groat’s house, on the north-eastern extremity of
Scotland. The shores of Caithness rise bold and rocky before us, a contrast to
the Orkneys, which are all low, excepting the Island of Hoy. On Duncansby-head
appear some remarkable rocks, like towers, called the stacks of Duncansby; near
this shore runs the remarkable breaking tide called the Merry
Men of Mey, whence Mackenzie
takes the scenery of a poem— ‘Where the dancing men of Mey, Speed the current to the land.’ |
Here, according to his locality, the Caithness man witnessed the vision,
in which was introduced the song translated by Gray, under the title of the Fatal Sisters. On this subject, Mr Baikie told me the following remarkable
circumstance: A clergyman told him that while some remnants of the Norse were
yet spoken in North Ronaldsha, he carried thither the translation of
Mr Gray, then newly published, and read it to some of
the old people as referring to the ancient history of their islands. But so
soon as he had proceeded a little way, they exclaimed they knew it very well in
the original, and had often sung it to himself when he asked them for an old
Norse song; they called it The
Enchantresses. The breeze dies away between two wicked little
islands called Swona and Stroma, the latter belonging to Caithness, the former
to Orkney. Nota Bene.—The inhabitants
of the rest of the Orcades despise those of Swona for eating limpets, as being
the last of human meannesses. Every land has its fashions. The Fair-Islesmen
disdain Orkney-men for eating dog-fish. Both islands have dangerous reefs and
whirlpools, where, even, in this fine day, the tide rages furiously. Indeed,
the large high unbroken billows, which at every swell hide from our deck each
distant object, plainly intimate what a dreadful current this must be when
vexed by high or adverse winds. Finding ourselves losing ground in the tide,
and unwilling to waste time, we give up Thurso—run back into the roadstead or
bay of Long-Hope, and anchor under the fort. The bay has four entrances and
safe anchorage in most winds, and having become a great rendezvous for shipping
(there are nine vessels lying here at present), has been an object of attention
with Government.
“Went ashore after dinner, and visited the fort,
which is only partly completed; it is a flêche to the sea, with eight guns, twenty-four
pounders, but without any land defences; the guns are mounted en barbette, without embrasures, each upon
a kind of movable stage, which stage wheeling upon a pivot in front, and
traversing by means of wheels behind, can be pointed in any direction that may
be thought necessary. Upon this stage, the gun-carriage moves forward and
recoils, and the depth of the parapet shelters the men even better than an
embrasure; at a little distance from this battery they are building a Martello
tower, which is to cross the fire of the battery, and also that of another
projected tower upon the opposite point of the bay. The expedience of these
towers seems excessively problematical. Suppo-
192 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
sing them
impregnable, or nearly so, a garrison of fourteen or fifteen men may be always
blockaded by a very trifling number, while the enemy dispose of all in the
vicinity at their pleasure. In the case of Long-Hope, for instance, a frigate
might disembark 100 men, take the fort in the rear, where it is undefended even
by a palisade, destroy the magazines, spike and dismount the cannon, carry off
or cut out any vessels in the roadstead, and accomplish all the purposes that
could bring them to so remote a spot, in spite of a sergeant’s party in
the Martello tower, and without troubling themselves about them at all.
Meanwhile, Long-Hope will one day turn out a flourishing place; there will soon
be taverns and slop-shops, where sailors rendezvous in such numbers; then will
come quays, docks, and warehouses; and then a thriving town. Amen, so be it.
This is the first fine day we have enjoyed to an end since Sunday, 31st ult.
Rainy, cold, and hazy, have been our voyages around these wild islands; I hope
the weather begins to mend, though Mr Wilson, our master,
threatens a breeze to-morrow. We are to attempt the Skerries, if possible; if
not, we will, I believe, go to Stromness.
“15th August, 1814.—Fine
morning; we get again into the Pentland Frith, and with the aid of a pilot-boat
belonging to the lighthouse service, from South Ronaldshaw, we attempt the
Skerries. Notwithstanding the fair weather, we have a specimen of the violence
of the flood-tide, which forms whirlpools on the shallow sunken rocks by the
islands of Swona and Stroma, and. in the deep water makes strange, smooth,
whirling, and swelling eddies, called by the sailors, wells. We run through the wells of Tuftile in
particular, which, in the least stress of weather, wheel a large ship round and
round, without respect either to helm or sails. Hence the
distinction of wells and
waves in old English: the well being that smooth, glassy, oily-looking eddy, the force of which
seems to the eye almost resistless. The bursting of the waves in foam around
these strange eddies has a bewildering and confused appearance, which it is
impossible to describe. Get off the Skerries about ten o’clock, and land
easily; it is the first time a boat has got there for several days. The Skerries* is an island about 60 acres, of fine short
herbage, belonging to Lord Dundas; it is
surrounded by a reef of precipitous rocks, not very high, but inaccessible,
unless where the ocean has made ravines among them, and where stairs have been
cut down to the water for the lighthouse service. Those inlets have a romantic
appearance, and have been christened by the sailors, the Parliament House, the
Seals’ Lying-in-Hospital, &c. The last inlet, after rushing through a
deep chasm, which is open overhead, is continued under ground, and then again
opens to the sky in the middle of the island: in this hole the seals bring out
their whelps; when the tide is high, the waves rise up through this aperture in
the middle of the isle—like the blowing of a whale in noise and appearance.
There is another round cauldron of solid rock, to which the waves have access
through a natural arch in the rock, having another and lesser arch rising just
above it; in hard weather, the waves rush through both apertures with a horrid
noise; the workmen called it the Carron Blast, and indeed, the variety of
noises, which issued from the abyss, somewhat reminded me of that engine. Take
my rifle and walk round the cliffs in search of seals, but see none, and only
disturb the digestion of certain aldermen-cormorants, who were sit-
194 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
ting on the points of the crags after a good fish
breakfast; only made one good shot out of four. The lighthouse is too low, and
on the old construction, yet it is of the last importance. The keeper is an old
man-of-war’s-man, of whom Mr
Stevenson observed, that he was a great swearer when he first
came; but after a year or two’s residence in this solitary abode, became
a changed man. There are about fifty head of cattle on the island; they must be
got in and off with great danger and difficulty. There is no water upon the
isle except what remains after rain in some pools; these sometimes dry in
summer, and the cattle are reduced to great straits. Leave the isle about one;
and the wind and tide being favourable, crowd all sail, and get on at the rate
of fourteen miles an hour. Soon reach our old anchorage at the Long-Hope, and
passing, stand to the north-westward, up the sound of Hoy for Stromness.
“I should have mentioned, that in going down the
Pentland Firth this morning we saw Johnnie
Groat’s house, or rather the place where it stood, now
occupied by a storehouse. Our pilot opines there was no such man as Johnnie Groat, for, he says, he cannot hear that
any body ever saw him. This reasoning would put down
most facts of antiquity; they gather shells on the shore called Johnnie Groat’s
buckies, but I cannot procure any at present. I may also add, that the
interpretation given to wells may apply to the Wells of Slain, in the fine ballad of Clerk Colvin; such eddies in the romantic vicinity of Slains Castle
would be a fine place for a mermaid.
“Our wind fails us, and what is worse, becomes
westerly; the Sound has now the appearance of a fine landlocked bay, the
passages between the several islands being scarce visible. We have a superb
view of Kirkwall Cathedral, with a strong gleam of sunshine upon it.
Gloomy weather begins to
collect around us, particularly on the island of Hoy, which, covered with gloom
and vapour, now assumes a majestic mountainous character. On Pomona we pass the
Hill of Orphir, which reminds me of the clergyman of that parish, who was
called to account for some of his inaccuracies to the General Assembly; one
charge he held particularly cheap, viz., that of drunkenness.
‘Reverend Moderator,’ said he, in reply, ‘I do drink, as other gentlemen do.’ This
Orphir of the north must not be confounded with the Ophir of the south. From
the latter came gold, silver, and precious stones; the former seems to produce
little except peats. Yet these are precious commodities, which some of the
Orkney Isles altogether want, and lay waste and burn the turf of their land
instead of importing coal from Newcastle. The Orcadians seem by no means an
alert or active race; they neglect the excellent fisheries which lie under
their very noses, and in their mode of managing their boats, as well as in the
general tone of urbanity and intelligence, are excelled by the less favoured
Zetlanders. I observe they always crowd their boat with people in the bows,
being the ready way to send her down in any awkward circumstance. There are
remains of their Norwegian descent and language in North Ronaldshaw, an isle I
regret we did not see. A missionary preacher came ashore there a year or two
since, but being a very little black-bearded unshaved man, the seniors of the
isle suspected him of being an ancient Pecht or Pict, and no
canny, of course. The schoolmaster came down to entreat our worthy
Mr Stevenson, then about to leave
the island, to come up and verify whether the preacher was an ancient Pecht,
yea or no. Finding apologies were in vain, he rode up to the house where the
unfortunate preacher, after three 196 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
nights’
watching, had got to bed, little conceiving under what odious suspicion he had
fallen. As Mr S. declined disturbing him, his boots were
produced, which being a little,—little—very little pair,
confirmed, in the opinion of all the bystanders, the suspicion of Pechtism.
Mr S. therefore found it necessary to go into the poor
man’s sleeping apartment, where he recognised one
Campbell, heretofore an ironmonger in Edinburgh, but
who had put his hand for some years to the missionary plough; of course he
warranted his quondam acquaintance to be no ancient Pecht. Mr
Stevenson carried the same schoolmaster who figured in the
adventure of the Pecht to the mainland of Scotland, to be examined for his
office. He was extremely desirous to see a tree; and, on seeing one, desired to
know what girss it was that grew at the top
on’t—the leaves appearing to him to be grass. They still speak a little
Norse, and indeed I hear every day words of that language; for instance,
Ja kul, for ‘Yes, sir.’ We creep slowly up Hoy Sound, working
under the Pomona shore; but there is no hope of reaching Stromness till we have
the assistance of the evening tide. The channel now seems like a Highland loch;
not the least ripple on the waves. The passage is narrowed, and (to the eye)
blocked up by the interposition of the green and apparently fertile isle of
Graemsay, the property of Lord
Armadale.* Hoy looks yet grander, from comparing its black and steep
mountains with this verdant isle. To add to the beauty of the Sound, it is
rendered lively by the successive appearance of seven or eight whaling vessels
from Davies’ Straits; large strong ships, which pass successively, with
all their sails set,
enjoying the little wind that
is. Many of these vessels display the garland; that is, a wreath of ribbons
which the young fellows on board have got from their sweethearts, or come by
otherwise, and which hangs between the foremast and mainmast, surmounted
sometimes by a small model of the vessel. This garland is hung up upon the 1st
May, and remains till they come into port. I believe we shall dodge here till
the tide makes about nine, and then get into Stromness; no boatman or sailor in
Orkney thinks of the wind in comparison of the tides and currents. We must not
complain, though the night gets rainy, and the Hill of Hoy is now completely
invested with vapour and mist. In the forepart of the day we executed very
cleverly a task of considerable difficulty and even danger.
“16th August, 1814.—Get into
Stromness bay, and anchor before the party are up. A most decided rain all
night. The bay is formed by a deep indention in the mainland, or Pomona; on one
side of which stands Stromness a fishing village and harbour of call for the
Davies’ Straits whalers, as Lerwick is for the Greenlanders. Betwixt the
vessels we met yesterday, seven or eight which passed us this morning, and
several others still lying in the bay, we have seen between twenty and thirty
of these large ships in this remote place. The opposite side of Stromness bay
is protected by Hoy, and Græmsay lies between them; so that the bay seems
quite land-locked, and the contrast between the mountains of Hoy, the soft
verdure of Græmsay, and the swelling hill of Orphir on the mainland, has a
beautiful effect. The day clears up, and Mr Rae, Lord Armadale’s factor, comes off from
his house, called Clestrom, upon the shore opposite to Stromness, to breakfast
with us. We go ashore with him. His farm is well cultivated, and he has
procured an excellent breed of horses from
198 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
Lanarkshire,
of which county he is a native; strong hardy Galloways, fit for labour or
hacks. By this we profited, as Mr Rae mounted us all, and
we set off to visit the Standing Stones of Stenhouse or Stennis.
“At the upper end of the bay, about half way
between Clestrom and Stromness, there extends a loch of considerable size, of
fresh water, but communicating with the sea by apertures left in a long bridge
or causeway which divides them. After riding about two miles along this lake,
we open another called the Loch of Harray, of about the same dimensions, and
communicating with the lower lake, as the former does with the sea, by a
stream, over which is constructed a causeway, with openings to suffer the flow
and reflux of the water, as both lakes are affected by the tide. Upon the
tongues of land which, approaching each other, divide the lakes of Stennis and
Harray, are situated the Standing Stones. The isthmus on the eastern side
exhibits a semicircle of immensely large upright pillars of unhewn stone,
surrounded by a mound of earth. As the mound is discontinued, it does not seem
that the circle was ever completed. The flat or open part of the semicircle
looks up a plain, where, at a distance, is seen a large tumulus. The highest of
these stones may be about sixteen or seventeen feet, and I think there are none
so low as twelve feet. At irregular distances are pointed out other unhewn
pillars of the same kind. One, a little to the westward, is perforated with a
round hole, perhaps to bind a victim; or rather, I conjecture, for the purpose
of solemnly attesting the deity, which the Scandinavians did by passing their
head through a ring, vide Eyrbiggia Saga. Several barrows are scattered around this strange
monument. Upon the opposite isthmus is a complete circle, of ninety-five paces
in diameter, surrounded by standing stones, less in size than the others,
| THE STANDING STONES OF STENNIS. | 199 |
being only from ten
or twelve to fourteen feet in height, and four in breadth. A deep trench is
drawn around this circle on the outside of the pillars, and four tumuli, or
mounds of earth, are regularly placed, two on each side.
“Stonehenge excels these monuments, but I fancy
they are otherwise unparalleled in Britain. The idea that such circles were
exclusively Druidical is now justly exploded. The northern nations all used
such erections to mark their places of meeting, whether for religious purposes
or civil policy; and there is repeated mention of them in the Sagas. See the Eyrbiggia Saga, for
the establishment of the Helga-fels, or holy mount, where the people held their
Comitia, and where sacrifices were offered to Thor and Woden. About the
centre of the semicircle is a broad flat stone, probably once the altar on
which human victims were sacrificed.—Mr Rae seems to think
the common people have no tradition of the purpose of these stones, but
probably he has not enquired particularly. He admits they look upon them with
superstitious reverence; and it is evident that those which have fallen down
(about half the original number) have been wasted by time, and not demolished.
The materials of these monuments lay near, for the shores and bottom of the
lake are of the same kind of rock. How they were raised, transported, and
placed upright, is a puzzling question. In our ride back, noticed a round
entrenchment, or tumulus, called the Hollow of Tongue.
“The hospitality of Mrs Rae
detained us to an early, dinner at Clestrom. About four o’clock took our
longboat and rowed down the bay to visit the Dwarfie Stone of Hoy. We have all
day been pleased with the romantic appearance of that island, for though the
Hill of Hoy is not very high, perhaps about 1200 feet, yet rising per-
200 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
pendicularly (almost) from the sea, and being very steep
and furrowed with ravines, and catching all the mists from the western ocean,
it has a noble and picturesque effect in every point of view. We land upon the
island, and proceed up a long and very swampy valley broken into peatbogs. The
one side of this valley is formed by the Mountain of Hoy, the other by another
steep hill, having at the top a circular, belt of rock; upon the slope of this
last hill, and just where the principal mountain opens into a wide and
precipitous and circular corrie or hollow, lies the
Dwarfie Stone. It is a huge sandstone rock, of one solid stone, being about
seven feet high, twenty-two feet long, and seventeen feet broad. The upper end
of this stone is hewn into a sort of apartment containing two beds of stone and
a passage between them. The uppermost and largest is five feet eight inches
long, by two feet broad, and is furnished with a stone pillow. The lower,
supposed for the Dwarf’s Wife, is shorter, and rounded off, instead of
being square at the corners. The entrance may be about three feet and a-half
square, Before it lies a huge stone, apparently intended to serve the purpose
of a door, and shaped accordingly. In the top, over the passage which divides
the beds, there is a hole to serve for a window or chimney, which was doubtless
originally wrought square with irons, like the rest of the work, but has been
broken out by violence into a shapeless hole. Opposite to this stone, and
proceeding from it in a line down the valley, are several small barrows, and
there is a very large one on the same line, at the spot where we landed. This
seems to indicate that the monument is of heathen times, and probably was meant
as the temple of some northern edition of the Dii
Manes. There are no symbols of Christian devotion and
the door is to the westward; it therefore does not seem | THE DWARFIE STONE OF HOY. | 201 |
to have been the abode of a hermit, as
Dr Barry* has conjectured. The
Orcadians have no tradition on the subject, excepting that they believe it to
be the work of a dwarf, to whom, like their ancestors, they attribute
supernatural powers and malevolent disposition. They conceive he may be seen
sometimes sitting at the door of his abode, but he vanishes on a nearer
approach. Whoever inhabited this den, certainly enjoyed ‘Pillow cold and sheets not warm.’ |
“Duff,
Stevenson, and I now walk along the
skirts of the Hill of Hoy, to rejoin Robert
Hamilton, who in the mean while had rode down to the
clergyman’s house, the wet and boggy walk not suiting his gout. Arrive at
the manse completely wet, and drink tea there. The clergyman (Mr Hamilton) has procured some curious
specimens of natural history for Bullock’s Museum, particularly a pair of fine eaglets. He
has just got another of the golden, or white kind, which he intends to send
him. The eagle, with every other ravenous bird, abounds among the almost
inaccessible precipices of Hoy, which afford them shelter, while the moors,
abounding with grouse, and the small uninhabited islands and holms, where sheep
and lambs are necessarily left unwatched, as well as the all-sustaining ocean,
give these birds of prey the means of support. The clergyman told us, that a
man was very lately alive in the Island of , who,
when an infant, was transported from thence by an eagle over a broad sound, or
arm of the sea, to the bird’s nest in Hoy. Pursuit being instantly made,
and the eagle’s nest being known, the infant was found there playing with
the young eaglets. A more ludicrous instance of
202 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
transportation he himself witnessed. Walking in the
fields, he heard the squeaking of a pig for some time, without being able to
discern whence it proceeded, until looking up, he beheld the unfortunate
grunter in the talons of an eagle, who soared away with him towards the summit
of Hoy. From this it may be conjectured, that the island is very thinly
inhabited. In fact, we only saw two or three little wigwams. After tea we
walked a mile farther, to a point where the boat was lying, in order to secure
the advantage of the flood-tide. We rowed with toil across one stream of tide,
which set strongly up between Græmsay and Hoy; but, on turning the point
of Græmsay, the other branch of the same flood-tide carried us with great
velocity alongside our yacht, which we reached about nine o’clock.
Between riding, walking, and running, we have spent a very active and
entertaining day.
“Domestic Memoranda—The eggs
on Zetland and Orkney are very indifferent, having an earthy taste and being
very small. But the hogs are an excellent breed—queer wild-looking creatures,
with heads like wild-boars, but making capital bacon.”
Robert Baikie (d. 1817)
Of Tankerville, in the Orkneys, the son of James Baikie, provost of Kirkwall; he was MP
for Orkney and Shetland (1780-81).
George Barry (1748-1805)
Educated at Edinburgh University, he was minister of Shapinsay in Orkney and author of
The History of the Orkney Islands (1805).
William Bullock (1780 c.-1849)
Naturalist and antiquary who in 1795 opened a museum in Liverpool; in 1809 his
collections opened in London as the Liverpool Museum.
Adam Duff of Findon (d. 1840)
Son of Admiral Robert Duff of Logie; he was a Scottish Advocate (1799), a political Tory.
and Sheriff of Forfar (1807-19) and Midlothian (1819-40).
Thomas Dundas, first Baron Dundas (1741-1820)
Educated at Eton and St Andrews, he was a Whig MP for Richmond (1763-68) and
Stirlinghsire (1768-94), a friend of Charles James Fox and the Prince of Wales.
Arthur Edmondston (1775-1841)
Physician in Lerwick; he published
A View of the Ancient and Present
State of the Zetland Isles (1809).
William Erskine, Lord Kinneder (1768-1822)
The son of an episcopal clergyman of the same name, he was a Scottish advocate and a
close friend and literary advisor to Sir Walter Scott.
Thomas Gray (1716-1771)
English poet, author of “Ode on a Distant Prospect of Eton College,” “Elegy written in a
Country Churchyard,” and “The Bard”; he was professor of history at Cambridge
(1768).
Gavin Hamilton (d. 1846)
Minister of Hoy and Graemsay in Orkney; in 1796 he married Penelope Macaulay (d. 1806),
the sister of Zachary Macaulay who was the father of the historian.
Robert Hamilton (1763-1831)
Scottish advocate (1788) and regius professor of public law at Edinburgh (1796); he was a
friend of Walter Scott.
James V, king of Scotland (1512-1542)
He was king of Scotland from 1513 and father of Mary Queen of Scots; he died following
the Scottish defeat at Solway Moss.
Malcolm Laing (1762-1818)
Scottish advocate and historian, educated at Edinburgh University; he was Whig MP for
Orkney and Shetland (1807-12). In 1805 he published
The Poems of Ossian,
containing the Poetical Works of James Macpherson in Prose and Verse.
Gilbert Laing Meason (1769-1832)
The younger brother of the antiquary Malcolm Laing; he published
On The
Landscape Architecture of the Great Painters of Italy (1828) and was a member of
the Bannatyne Club.
Henry Mackenzie (1745-1831)
Scottish man of letters, author of
The Man of Feeling (1770) and
editor of
The Mirror (1779-80) and
The
Lounger (1785-87).
Priscian (500 fl.)
Latin grammarian, author of
Institutiones grammaticae in eighteen
books.
Robert Stevenson (1772-1850)
Civil engineer and chief executive to the Northern Lighthouse Board (1808-43); he
designed bridges and railways.