Memoirs of the Life of Sir Walter Scott, Volume 4 (of 10)Lockhart, J. G. (John Gibson)
General
Memoirs of the Life of Sir Walter Scott, Volume 4 (of 10)
Lockhart, J. G. (John Gibson)
Authors, Scottish -- 19th century -- Biography; Scott, Walter, 1771-1832
eastward of the island. It was not till he had spent some weeks in this
miserable abode, that he got off to Norway. Independently of the moral
consideration, that, from the pitch of power in which he stood a few
days before, the proudest peer of the proudest nation in Europe found
himself dependent on the jealous and scanty charity of these secluded
islanders, it is scarce possible not to reflect with compassion on the
change of situation from the palaces of Estremadura to the hamlet of the
Fair Isle--
'Dost thou wish for thy deserts, O Son of Hodeirah?
Dost thou long for the gales of Arabia?'[73]
"Mr. Strong gave me a curious old chair belonging to Quendale, a
former proprietor of the Fair Isle, and which a more zealous antiquary
would have dubbed 'the Duke's chair.' I will have it refitted for
Abbotsford, however. About eight o'clock we take boat, amid the cheers
of the inhabitants, whose minds, subdued by our splendor, had been
secured by our munificence, which consisted in a moderate benefaction
of whiskey and tobacco, and a few shillings laid out on their staple
commodities. They agreed no such day had been seen in the isle. The
signal-post displayed its flags, and to recompense these distinguished
marks of honor, we hung out our colors, stood into the bay, and
saluted with three guns,
'Echoing from a thousand caves."
and then bear away for Orkney, leaving, if our vanity does not deceive
us, a very favorable impression on the mind of the inhabitants of the
Fair Isle. The tradition of the Fair Isle is unfavorable to those
shipwrecked strangers, who are said to have committed several acts of
violence to extort the supplies of provision, given them sparingly and
with reluctance by the islanders, who were probably themselves very
far from being well supplied.
"I omitted to say we were attended in the morning by two very sportive
whales, but of a kind, as some of our crew who had been on board
Greenland-men assured us, which it was very dangerous to attack. There
were two Gravesend smacks fishing off the isle. Lord, what a long
draught London makes!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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