Sammy Johnson's thoughts on the island of Ulva
Curmudgeon, patronising, intellectual snob - just a few of Sammy Johnson's faults are displayed in his all-too-brief note on the island and people of Ulva in his 1773 book Journey To The Western Isles of Scotland:
While we stood deliberating, we were happily espied from an Irish ship, that lay at anchor in the strait. The master saw that we wanted a passage, and with great civility sent us his boat, which quickly conveyed us to Ulva, where we were very liberally entertained by Mr. Macquarry.
To Ulva we came in the dark, and left it before noon the next day. A very exact description therefore will not be expected. We were told, that it is an Island of no great extent, rough and barren, inhabited by the Macquarrys; a clan not powerful nor numerous, but of antiquity, which most other families are content to reverence. The name is supposed to be a depravation of some other; for the Earse language does not afford it any etymology. Macquarry is proprietor both of Ulva and some adjacent Islands, among which is Staffa, so lately raised to renown by Mr. Banks*.
When the Islanders were reproached with their ignorance, or insensibility of the wonders of Staffa, they had not much to reply. They had indeed considered it little, because they had always seen it; and none but philosophers, nor they always, are struck with wonder, otherwise than by novelty. How would it surprise an unenlightened ploughman, to hear a company of sober men, inquiring by what power the hand tosses a stone, or why the stone, when it is tossed, falls to the ground!
Of the ancestors of Macquarry, who thus lies hid in his unfrequented Island, I have found memorials in all places where they could be expected.
Inquiring after the reliques of former manners, I found that in Ulva, and, I think, no where else, is continued the payment of the Mercheta Mulierum; a fine in old times due to the Laird at the marriage of a virgin. The original of this claim, as of our tenure of Borough English, is variously delivered. It is pleasant to find ancient customs in old families. This payment, like others, was, for want of money, made anciently in the produce of the land. Macquarry was used to demand a sheep, for which he now takes a crown, by that inattention to the uncertain proportion between the value and the denomination of money, which has brought much disorder into Europe. A sheep has always the same power of supplying human wants, but a crown will bring at one time more, at another less.
Ulva was not neglected by the piety of ardent times: it has still to show what was once a church.
* In 1772, Jimbo Banks was on his way to Iceland with a couple of other blokes, including a bishop and a painter. While on Mull for a spot of the rest and recreation to which he was much enamoured, Jimmy Boy was told about the island of Staffa, and headed off to check it out, turning up in the dark:
It was too dark [Jimbo wrote] to see anything, so we carried our tent and baggage near the only house on the island, and began to cook our suppers, in order to be prepared for the earliest dawn, and to enjoy that which, from the conversation of the gentlemen we had, now raised the highest expectations of.
The daylight brought Jimbo the opportunity to carry out a close inspection of the lice of Staffa as he scratched himself more silly. But when he finally managed to raise his eyes to the view he announces he was:
... forced to acknowledge that this piece of architecture, formed by nature, far surpasses that of the Louvre, that of St. Peter at Rome, all that remains of Palmyra and Paestum, and all that the genius, the taste and the luxury of the Greeks were capable of inventing.
[Keay, J. & Keay, J. (1994) Collins Encyclopaedia of Scotland. London. HarperCollins]
One only hopes all the tourists who followed his recommended visit brought whatever was useful against lice in those days and found his florid descriptions to be much more accurate than the almost deadly inaccuracy of his descriptions of Botany Bay.