Whether it is now inhabited we
could not stay to inquire.
At last we came to Icolmkill, but found no convenience for landing.
Our boat could not be forced very near the dry ground, and our
Highlanders carried us over the water.
We were now treading that illustrious Island, which was once the
luminary of the Caledonian regions, whence savage clans and roving
barbarians derived the benefits of knowledge, and the blessings of
religion. To abstract the mind from all local emotion would be
impossible, if it were endeavoured, and would be foolish, if it
were possible. Whatever withdraws us from the power of our senses;
whatever makes the past, the distant, or the future predominate
over the present, advances us in the dignity of thinking beings.
Far from me and from my friends, be such frigid philosophy as may
conduct us indifferent and unmoved over any ground which has been
dignified by wisdom, bravery, or virtue. That man is little to be
envied, whose patriotism would not gain force upon the plain of
Marathon, or whose piety would not grow warmer among the ruins of
Iona!
We came too late to visit monuments: some care was necessary for
ourselves. Whatever was in the Island, Sir Allan could command,
for the inhabitants were Macleans; but having little they could not
give us much. He went to the headman of the Island, whom Fame, but
Fame delights in amplifying, represents as worth no less than fifty
pounds. He was perhaps proud enough of his guests, but ill
prepared for our entertainment; however, he soon produced more
provision than men not luxurious require. Our lodging was next to
be provided. We found a barn well stocked with hay, and made our
beds as soft as we could.
In the morning we rose and surveyed the place. The churches of the
two convents are both standing, though unroofed. They were built
of unhewn stone, but solid, and not inelegant. I brought away rude
measures of the buildings, such as I cannot much trust myself,
inaccurately taken, and obscurely noted. Mr. Pennant's
delineations, which are doubtless exact, have made my unskilful
description less necessary.
The episcopal church consists of two parts, separated by the
belfry, and built at different times. The original church had,
like others, the altar at one end, and tower at the other: but as
it grew too small, another building of equal dimension was added,
and the tower then was necessarily in the middle.
That these edifices are of different ages seems evident. The arch
of the first church is Roman, being part of a circle; that of the
additional building is pointed, and therefore Gothick, or
Saracenical; the tower is firm, and wants only to be floored and
covered.
Of the chambers or cells belonging to the monks, there are some
walls remaining, but nothing approaching to a complete apartment.
The bottom of the church is so incumbered with mud and rubbish,
that we could make no discoveries of curious inscriptions, and what
there are have been already published. The place is said to be
known where the black stones lie concealed, on which the old
Highland Chiefs, when they made contracts and alliances, used to
take the oath, which was considered as more sacred than any other
obligation, and which could not be violated without the blackest
infamy. In those days of violence and rapine, it was of great
importance to impress upon savage minds the sanctity of an oath, by
some particular and extraordinary circumstances. They would not
have recourse to the black stones, upon small or common occasions,
and when they had established their faith by this tremendous
sanction, inconstancy and treachery were no longer feared.
The chapel of the nunnery is now used by the inhabitants as a kind
of general cow-house, and the bottom is consequently too miry for
examination. Some of the stones which covered the later abbesses
have inscriptions, which might yet be read, if the chapel were
cleansed. The roof of this, as of all the other buildings, is
totally destroyed, not only because timber quickly decays when it
is neglected, but because in an island utterly destitute of wood,
it was wanted for use, and was consequently the first plunder of
needy rapacity.
The chancel of the nuns' chapel is covered with an arch of stone,
to which time has done no injury; and a small apartment
communicating with the choir, on the north side, like the chapter-
house in cathedrals, roofed with stone in the same manner, is
likewise entire.
In one of the churches was a marble altar, which the superstition
of the inhabitants has destroyed. Their opinion was, that a
fragment of this stone was a defence against shipwrecks, fire, and
miscarriages. In one corner of the church the bason for holy water
is yet unbroken.
The cemetery of the nunnery was, till very lately, regarded with
such reverence, that only women were buried in it. These reliques
of veneration always produce some mournful pleasure. I could have
forgiven a great injury more easily than the violation of this
imaginary sanctity.
South of the chapel stand the walls of a large room, which was
probably the hall, or refectory of the nunnery. This apartment is
capable of repair. Of the rest of the convent there are only
fragments.
Besides the two principal churches, there are, I think, five
chapels yet standing, and three more remembered. There are also
crosses, of which two bear the names of St. John and St. Matthew.
A large space of ground about these consecrated edifices is covered
with gravestones, few of which have any inscription. He that
surveys it, attended by an insular antiquary, may be told where the
Kings of many nations are buried, and if he loves to sooth his
imagination with the thoughts that naturally rise in places where
the great and the powerful lie mingled with the dust, let him
listen in submissive silence; for if he asks any questions, his
delight is at an end.
