Memoirs of the Life of Sir Walter Scott, Volume 4 (of 10)Lockhart, J. G. (John Gibson)
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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
"The wrecks on this coast were numerous before the erection of the
lighthouse. It was not uncommon to see five or six vessels on shore at
once. The goods and chattels of the inhabitants are all said to savor
of _Flotsome_ and _Jetsome_, as the floating wreck and that which is
driven ashore are severally called. Mr. Stevenson happened to observe
that the boat of a Sanda farmer had bad sails--'If it had been His
(_i. e._, God's) will that you hadna built sae many lighthouses
hereabout'--answered the Orcadian, with great composure--'I would have
had new sails last winter.' Thus do they talk and think upon these
subjects; and so talking and thinking, I fear the poor mariner has
little chance of any very anxious attempt to assist him. There is one
wreck, a Danish vessel, now aground under our lee. These Danes are the
stupidest seamen, by all accounts, that sail the sea. When this light
upon the Start of Sanda was established, the Commissioners, with
laudable anxiety to extend its utility, had its description and
bearings translated into Danish and sent to Copenhagen. But they
never attend to such trifles. The Norwegians are much better liked, as
a clever, hardy, sensible people. I forgot to notice there was a
Norwegian prize lying in the Sound of Lerwick, sent in by one of our
cruisers. This was a queer-looking, half-decked vessel, all tattered
and torn, and shaken to pieces, looking like Coleridge's Spectre Ship.
It was pitiable to see such a prize. Our servants went aboard, and got
one of their loaves, and gave a dreadful account of its composition. I
got and cut a crust of it; it was rye-bread, with a slight mixture of
pine-fir bark or sawings of deal. It was not good, but (as Charles
XII. said) might be eaten. But after all, if the people can be
satisfied with such bread as this, it seems hard to interdict it to
them. What would a Londoner say if, instead of his roll and muffins,
this black bread, relishing of tar and turpentine, were presented for
his breakfast? I would to God there could be a Jehovah-jireh, 'a ram
caught in the thicket,' to prevent the sacrifice of that people.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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