I HAVE already referred
to the tempestuous gales— chiefly from the south - west — which
occasionally sweep across the island. Speaking generally, however, the
climate of St Kilda is by no means rigorous—in consequence, no doubt, of
the beneficial influences of the Gulf Stream, in the midst of which the
island is situated. Martin describes the air as “ sharp and wholesome.”
“The hills,” he says, “are often covered with ambient white mists, which
in winter are forerunners of snow, if they continue on the tops of the
hills; and in summer, if only on the tops, they prognosticate rain, and
when they descend to the valleys, excessive heat. The night here, about
the time of the summer solstice, exceeds not an hour in length,
especially if the season is fair; then the sun disappears but for a
short space, the reflex from the sea being all the time visible. The
harvest and winter are liable to great winds and rain, the south-west v
wind annoying them more than any other; it is commonly observed to blow
from the west, for the most part of, if not all July.” He elsewhere
gives an elaborate account of wind and weather prognostics, connected
with the appearance of the sky and the character of the waves ; and
mentions that the sea between St Kilda and the Long Island is most
boisterous during the prevalence of a north wind. A terrific gale took
place at St Kilda in January 1866; and Dr Macdonald refers to a
hurricane that occurred on the 8th of July 1827, during his last visit
to the island, when “ the billows rose mountains high, and dashed with
fury against the lofty rocks.” He also states that when the sun happens
to be obscured, the natives determine the time of day by the ebb and
flow of the sea —“their knowledge of the tides depending upon the
changes of the moon, which they likewise observe, and are very nice in
it.” Mr Wilson pronounces the climate of St Kilda to be “extremely
mild”—adding that the ice which is formed during the coldest winter
night is scarcely thicker than a penny, and usually melts away, under
the influence of the sun, in the course of the following day. Mr
Macdiarmid, however, was told that snow sometimes falls so heavily as to
bury the sheep, and that frost is occasionally severe.
The soil, according to
Martin, is “very grateful to the labourer,” producing from sixteen to
twenty fold. “Their grain,” he says, “is only bere and some oats; the
barley is the largest produced in all the Western Isles. They use no
plough, but a kind of crooked spade; their harrows are of wood, as are
the teeth in front also, and all the rest supplied only with long
tangles of sea-ware tied to the harrow by the small ends. . . . The
chief ingredient in their composts is ashes of turf mixed with straw and
urine. . . . They join also the bones, wings, and entrails of the
sea-fowl to their straw. They sow very thick, and have a proportionable
growth. They pluck all their bere by the roots in handfuls, both for the
sake of their houses, which they thatch with it, and their cows, which
they take in during the winter."
It appears from
Macaulay’s account of the island that about eighty acres were under
cultivation in 1758, in the immediate neighbourhood of the village. He
refers to the fact of the soil being well manured and carefully
pulverised, in accordance with the advice of Virgil, whose opinions he
frequently quotes. He describes the quality of barley as excellent, and
mentions that the harvest is usually over by the beginning of September.
At the time of Mr Wilson’s visit, the arable land, fronting the village
and within a large enclosure, was chiefly laid out in small rigs of
barley, subdivided into about twenty portions, and belonging to a
corresponding number of families. Besides these, there were eight
smaller families not so portioned. In ordinary years, they were then
believed to raise sufficient grain for their own consumption. The hill
pastures were common—seven shillings being paid for each cow’s grazing,
and one shilling for each sheep, above ten, annually. The caschrom, or
spade-plough (referred to by Martin), was in ordinary use on Mr
Mackenzie’s arrival in 1830,1 but he contrived to render the use of the
English spade almost universal; and the introduction of drains nearly
doubled the produce of the arable land. Mr Wilson further informs us
that a few cabbages and potatoes grew in smaller enclosures, by courtesy
called gardens, and that the minister had tried both carrots and onions
with some success. “Turnips,” he says, “seem to thrive well for a time,
but are speedily cut off by some kind of destructive insect; and peas
and beans blossom, but produce no pods.”
In proportion to the
number of inhabitants, the present quantity of arable land seems to be
considerably less than at the middle of last century. Probably the total
extent enclosed and under cultivation does not amount to forty
acres—about an acre and a half for each family—but it could easily be
doubled. The devotion of the islanders to the more profitable pursuit of
fowling induces them to neglect farming operations. Mr Sands, however,
makes special mention of the industry of the islanders in the matter of
agriculture. “Every little spot of earth,” he says, “on the stony hills
that will yield a crop is enclosed with a stone fence, and cultivated.
And even where the soil is too thin to be productive in itself, it is
artificially deepened, by shovelling on it the thin soil adjacent They
preserve (he adds) the ashes of their turf fires for manure, mixing it
with the entrails and carcases of fowls; . . . but they have not yet
learned the value of fish-offal.” The crops which Mr Grigor saw in July
1861 consisted of bere, oats, and potatoes, and looked exceedingly well,
having been much improved by the application of guano, which had been
supplied to the inhabitants after the ravages of the storm of 3d October
1860, already referred to. A few drills of turnips came up well in the
plot occupied by the catechist and registrar; and in other plots there
were a few cabbages. A proper supply of vegetables would be a desirable
addition to the diet of the inhabitants. The land under cultivation is
enclosed by a stone fence, and occupies a gentle slope between the
village and the foot of the hills. The rest of the island produces good
green pasture, there being little or no heather or moss. The implements
of husbandry are few and simple—spades, hoes, and picks being now in
use; but there does not seem to be any desire on the part of the
inhabitants to extend cultivation. In one of his recent letters in the
‘Scotsman,’ Mr Sands asserted, on the authority of some of the older
inhabitants, that there had been no change of seed-corn for at least
sixty years, and that the crops had greatly deteriorated. This, however,
was distinctly contradicted, at a subsequent meeting relative to St
Kilda, by one of the speakers, who mentioned that he had been the means
of sending a fresh supply of seed about fifteen years ago; and further,
that he was aware of potatoes having been supplied last year.
The plants enumerated by
Martin as growing on the island are the following: dock, scurvy-grass,
milfoil, shepherd’s purse, silverweed or argentine, plantain, sage,
chick-weed, sorrel, all - hail or siderites (star-wort?), sea-pink, and
tormentil or "scurf upon the stones,” which (he says) “has a drying and
healing quality, and is likewise used for dyeing.” He adds that the St
Kildans are “ignorant of the virtues of these herbs,” being thus
unconscious of the truth announced by the Franciscan friar in “Romeo and
Juliet”—
“O, mickle is the
powerful grace that lies In herbs, plants, stones, and their true
qualities!”
As in many other parts of
the Western Islands, large tracts of ground are carpeted with the
delicately coloured sea-pink. Martin elsewhere states that “no sort of
trees, no, not the least shrub, grows here, nor is ever a bee seen at
any time.” Mr Mackenzie induced the inhabitants to plant two
willow-trees in the churchyard; but if they still exist, I have no
recollection of seeing them.
Mr Macdiarmid gives the
following circumstantial account of the tillage and pastoral operations:
“The soil is a fine black loam, resting on granite, and, by continued
careful manuring and cleaning, looks quite like a garden. Yet with all
this fine fertile appearance, the return it gives is miserable; and this
can only be accounted for from the land never being allowed any rest
under grass. The only crops grown are potatoes and oats, with a little
bere. Within the remembrance of some of the older men, the returns were
double, or nearly treble, of what they now are. . . . From a barrel of
potatoes (about 2 cwt.), scarcely three barrels will be lifted. They
require to sow the oats very thick—at the rate of from ten to twelve
bushels to the acre—and the return is never above three times the
quantity of seed sown; formerly it used to be six or seven times. I was
shown some of the oats, but they were very small and thin, and thick in
the husk. If possible, they avoid sowing home-grown seed, as it never
gives a good return. Flails are the instruments used for separating the
grain from the straw. The ground is all turned over with the spade, of
which they have a number in very good order. . . . The land is harrowed
with a sort of strong, roughly-made wooden hand-rake. They have iron
‘grapes’ for spreading their manure. The dung-pits are situated
generally a few yards in front of the house, at the end of the patch of
land, sunk a few feet in the ground,—rather convenient for being
conveyed to the land, which is done by wooden creels or baskets. Saw no
wheelbarrows; but there are one or two hand-barrows. They have
sufficient manure for their land. Sometimes they gather a little
sea-ware for manure; but there being no beach, it is not to be got in
any great quantity. . . . Noticed one or two small enclosures planted
with cabbages—not this year’s plants. Turnips were once grown rather
successfully, but of late years they have not thriven. . . . The
pasture-land is excellent, and forms as fine a sheep-run of its size as
can be seen anywhere. ... I should say the grazing extent would be about
one and a half times the size of Arthur’s Seat and the Queen’s Park,
Edinburgh.. . . . Nothing is to be seen growing naturally on the island
but grass, which I believe to be very nutritive. In some parts, last
year’s grass was lying quite thick where it had not been eaten.”
Every visitor to St Kilda
must have been struck by the large number of little dome-shaped stone
buildings, resembling ovens, scattered all over the island and the
adjacent islets, eight or ten feet in diameter, and from four to five
feet in height, with a small doorway capable of admitting an ordinary
person on all-fours. Their form is round when they occupy a level
position on the summit of a hill, and oval when placed on a hillside.
They are ingeniously constructed by gradually diminishing the courses of
dry stone; affording a free current to the air at the sides, the top
being closed by heavy stones, and protected from wet by a covering of
turf. These are the “pyramids,” or cleits, referred to by Martin as
being five hundred in number, and used for preserving various kinds of
produce—sea-fowl, eggs, turf, hay, and corn. No attempt is made by the
St Kildans to dry their grass or grain outside. Immediately after being
cut, both are thrown loosely into these receptacles, and thus secured
against all risk of injury from the weather—an example which might be
prudently followed by many other Highland farmers.
It appears from Martin’s
account that, at the end of the seventeenth century, the number of sheep
in St Kilda and the adjacent islands amounted to about two thousand.
“Generally,” he says, “they are speckled, some white, some philamort
(dun ?), and of an ordinary size. They do not resemble goats in
anything, as Buchanan was informed, except in their horns, which are
extraordinarily large, particularly those in the lesser isles.” About
one-fourth of the sheep were then fed on the island of Soa, “each of
them having generally two or three lambs at a birth, and every lamb
being so fruitful that it brings forth . a lamb before itself is a year
old; ”thus reminding us of the flock referred to in the Song of Solomon,
whereof every one bears twins, and none is barren among them.” These
sheep, Martin further informs us, are never milked, “which disposes them
to be the more prolific.” At the same period, the island of Borrera fed
about four hundred sheep, and “would feed more, did not the solan geese
pluck a large share of the grass for their nests." Macaulay also refers
to the remarkable fecundity of the St Kilda sheep. He was informed that,
in the course of thirteen months, a single sheep had been the means of
adding nine to the flock. “She had brought three lambs in the month of
March, three more in the same month the year after, and each of the
first three had a young one before they had been thirteen months old.”
Dean Monro describes the sheep of Hirta as “fairer and greater and
larger-tailled than in any uther ile about;” while the Lord Register
(Sir George M'Kenzie) says that they are “far different from all others,
having long legs, long horns, and, instead of wool, a blewish hair upon
them; for the figure and description they seem to approach in
resemblance to the Ovis Chilensis."
According to Macculloch,
“the breed of sheep is exclusively the Norwegian (now nearly extirpated
elsewhere), distinguished by the extreme shortness of their tails; and
the wool is both thin and coarse. They are occasionally of a dun colour;
and are subject here, as well as in Iceland, to produce an additional
number of horns. The mutton is peculiarly delicate, and highly flavoured.
The cattle are small, and both the ewes and the cows are milked. The
cheese, which is made of a mixture of these milks, is much esteemed,
forming one of the prevailing articles of export to the Long Island, the
mart in which all their little commerce centres.”
In Martin’s time, the
number of horses did not exceed eighteen, “all of a red colour, very low
and smooth skinned, being only employed in carrying their turf and corn,
and at the anniversary cavalcade. The cows, which are about ninety head,
small and great, all of them having their foreheads white and black, are
of a low stature, but fat and sweet beef. The dogs, cats, and all the
sea-fowl of this isle are speckled.” When Mr Wilson visited St Kilda in
1841, two or three small horses—originally imported to carry turf—still
existed in St Kilda, but practically they were found to be of little
use. The number of cows was then about fifty, of small size, but
“yielding a delicious milk, which in the making of cheese is mingled
with that of ewes.” The sheep, including those on Soa and Borrera, were
about the same number as in Martin’s time, the Soa sheep being “chiefly
of the Danish breed, with brown and black wool, and one or two more
horns than the usual complement.” About twenty-five years ago, some
specimens of sheep resembling those of St Kilda were to be seen at the
home-farm of Abercairney, near Crieff. The Abercairney breed, which the
proprietor procured in 1822, has generally been known by the name of
“Barbary sheep;” and if not identical with those of St Kilda, they bore
a striking resemblance to them.
In 1861, there were
forty-three head of cattle and fifteen hundred sheep in the group of
islands, of which all the cattle and nearly half of the sheep were in St
Kilda. About five hundred sheep found pasture in Borrera, and three
hundred in Soa. The latter of these islands was grazed by the families
who emigrated to Australia in 1856; and when they left St Kilda, the
stock was purchased by the proprietor, and was held in “steel-bow” by
the other tenants—that is, they had to return their equivalent in
quantity and quality at the end of the lease.
Mr Macdiarmid was unable
to ascertain the number of sheep on the island at the time of his visit
in May last, and estimates it at not less than four hundred. Mr
Mackenzie, the factor for the proprietor, recently informed me at
Dunvegan that the islanders are entitled to keep twelve hundred sheep
and fifty head of cattle, and that, at present, they actually possess
between a thousand and twelve hundred, but only admit having about the
half of that number. The same tendency to conceal the actual number
appears to have prevailed in the middle of last century. “The St Kildans,”
says Macaulay, “have their own mysteries of state. In proportion to the
number of sheep he possesses, every man must pay a certain heavy tax to
the steward; . . . and, according to the laws of their land, every Hirta
householder must pay to the person he calls his master every second
he-lamb, every seventh fleece, and every seventh she-lamb.” The
proprietor’s charge for a sheep’s grass on St Kilda is ninepence per
head, and sixpence on the adjacent islands; and for a cow’s grass, seven
shillings —the rates at Dunvegan being Jive shillings and three pounds
respectively. The breed of sheep has already been improved by crossing;
and Mr Mackenzie considers that, with good management, a much greater
improvement might take place. Most of the sheep on St Kilda are white;
the dun or native breed, which run wild, and are only caught at plucking
time, being chiefly on the smaller islands. In appearance, the latter
are something between sheep and fallow deer, with light-brown wool, long
necks and legs, and short tails. It would appear that the sheep receive
very little attention, and many of them are blown over the cliffs in
seeking shelter from the storms. A system of mutual insurance, however,
has long existed on the island, the owners of the lost sheep being
indemnified by their neighbours in proportion to the number which the
latter themselves possess. The smallest number owned by one man is
eleven, and the largest one hundred and fifty. Mr Macdiarmid strongly
condemns the present system of sheep-farming, under which every man has
his own, and no two tenants the same number, instead of the flock being
held in common, and the wool and carcases equally divided. He states
that “the yeld sheep are plucked about the beginning of June, and the
ewes about the middle of summer. They sell neither sheep nor wool. From
two to five sheep are killed by each family for the winter’s supply, and
the wool is made into blanketing and tweed, which they sell. They keep
about twelve tups. . . . The breed of sheep may be called a cross
between the old St Kilda breed and the blackfaced. . . . Nothing is
applied to the sheep by way of smearing; and, so far as could be
ascertained, they are quite free from scab and other skin diseases
common to the class. The St Kildan should be initiated in the art of
clipping his sheep; for plucking must be a sort of cruelty to the
animals.” He considers that, by proper management, the number might be
doubled; and that, instead of levying a payment on each head, the
proprietor ought to receive a fixed rent for pasturage. The sheep are
said to be very fat in autumn when killed, in consequence of the fine
quality of the pasture; and the mutton that was presented to Mr
Macdiarmid and his friends for dinner “would favourably compare, in
flavour and quality, with the best-fed blackfaced.” The islanders
consume a great deal of mutton at certain periods, as no sheep are
exported.
The total number of cows
and other cattle—including a brindled bull—at present on the island is
about fifty, of the West Highland breed, chiefly black, or red and black
in colour, and all in very good condition. Mr Macdiarmid estimates the
average value of the young cattle, on the mainland, at £5, 15s. per
head,—and about £3 per head—the rate paid by the factor in 1875—if
purchased on the island. There are now no horses within its bounds. The
older inhabitants, however, remember when some of the crofters had as
many as four or five ponies. It is reported that a lessee of the island,
about thirty years ago, shipped them all away, on the pretext of their
being destructive to the grass! There are numerous dogs—a mongrel breed
of collie—used for fowling purposes, as well as by the shepherds. A cat
is to be seen in almost every cottage, the mouse being the only wild
animal on the island, and rats are still unknown. According to Mr
Macdiarmid, there are only two hens in St Kilda. It has been suggested
that a few goats might be appropriately introduced; and perhaps the
rabbit also might form a useful addition to the fare of the St Kildan.
The experience of the inhabitants of Barra, however, is not very
encouraging—the destruction of the crops having been the result of the
importation of rabbits into that island.
At the date of Dr
Macculloch’s visit (1815), the rental of St Kilda appears to have
amounted to only ^40. In 1841, Mr Wilson was told that it was about £60;
and twenty years later, the three islands were entered in the Valuation
Roll of Inverness-shire at £100. From £90 to £ 100 is stated to be the
annual revenue derived by the present proprietor; but, in some quarters,
an impression appears to prevail that he receives a considerably larger
return. The rents are paid in kind, consisting chiefly of feathers, oil,
cloth, cattle, cheese, and barley. The oil is extracted from the stomach
of the fulmar, and is eagerly purchased by the farmers of Skye for
smearing purposes.
When Mr Wilson visited St
Kilda, each family was bound to furnish about twenty-three pecks of
barley annually; which failing, an additional supply of feathers. The
quantity of the latter which the entire nation required to supply was
240 stones (of 24 lb. each?)—the rugged cliffs, in the language of the
poet, thus “ turning to beds of down.” Sixteen families, constituting
the present “crofters,” pay rent, while the rest of the inhabitants are
only “cottars,” each possessing a few sheep. The annual charge for each
croft and cottage is £2. The present rents were fixed by Mr Norman
M'Raild, the factor for the late proprietor, each tenant being credited
with a certain number of sheep; and they have not been altered since the
change in the ownership. Accordingly, in some cases tenants may be
paying for too many, and in others for too few sheep. Mr Macdiarmid
states that “it is impossible to arrive at the actual value given to the
proprietor. None of the men keep an account of the quantity of produce
they give to the factor, and the amount of goods they take in return.
They have great confidence in Mr Mackenzie, who, they say, is just and
generous, and easy to deal with. . . . They are never pressed for
arrears; and, so far as could be made out, they are contented with their
lot, and consider that they are very fairly dealt with. They are very
much attached to their island home ; and there is no inclination to
emigrate. They speak of their landlord, Macleod, in the very best terms,
and consider themselves very fortunate in being under his guardianship;
and I must say that I did not hear one single word or expression
implying want of confidence or distrust in his dealings with them.” Mr
Macdiarmid refers to the unsuccessful attempt made by a recent visitor—I
presume Mr Sands—to induce the islanders to carry their produce to the
Long Island or the mainland, and to discontinue the system of barter
which has so long prevailed. It appears that the minister (Mr M'Kay)
strongly objected to the proposed change, reminding his flock that, in
dispensing with Macleod’s assistance, they might expose themselves to
risk and danger. A document was sent to the island by the proprietor
calling upon all who wished to adhere to the exist-ing system to give in
their names; and ultimately, the minister succeeded in getting a clause
inserted in a formal agreement between the owner and his tenants,
granting them permission, if they thought proper, to go to the mainland,
with the view of selling their produce and buying such commodities as
they might wish. This fair and reasonable arrangement appears to have
given perfect satisfaction to all the islanders.
As already indicated, the
principal exports are feathers, oil, cloth, catde, cheese, and barley.
The price paid by the present factor for feathers is, per stone of 24
lb., five shillings for grey, and six shillings for black feathers,
which it appears can be sold in Edinburgh or Glasgow at from seven to
eight shillings per stone. For fulmar-oil the islanders receive one
shilling per Scotch pint, or about two shillings per imperial gallon.4
On a recent occasion, the factor brought away fourteen barrels of oil,
each containing about thirty gallons. The quantity of cloth—tweeds and
blanketing—sold by each family ranges between 12 and 80 yards. For the
former, they receive two shillings and sixpence; and for the latter,
about two shillings and threepence per Scotch ell or “ big yard ” = 4
feet 1 inch. The tweed, which is of a natural, drab colour, is sold by
the factor at four shillings per English yard, which certainly appears
to constitute a liberal profit. The price paid for cattle has already
been indicated. The islanders are able annually to dispose of not more
than four stones (24 lb. each) of cheese, of a fair quality, chiefly
made from sheep’s milk, for which they receive six shillings and
sixpence per stone. As they have no churns, butter is very rarely made
by them. In Mr Mackenzie’s time, they sometimes attempted the process by
placing the milk in a wooden dish, or “ noggin,” and shaking the vessel
up and down until butter was produced. Another plan is to pour the milk
into a pail, and put it in motion by the use of the hands. I have no
information as to the price paid to them for barley. Tallow and salted
ling are among their other occasional exports—the former bringing from
seven to eight shillings per stone, and the latter sevenpence each, the
proprietor supplying the salt free.
In 1875, the factor paid
the islanders upwards of £40 for fish, last year about £6, and in the
current year nothing at all, which he regards as an indication of their
now being comparatively independent, and unwilling to undergo the labour
and hardship which fishing involves.
Mr Macdiarmid gives the
following list of imports, with the respective prices charged during the
last few years:—
The following have been
the highest and lowest prices of some of the above-mentioned articles,
in the Edinburgh market, during the last two years :—
During each of the past
three years, the proprietor’s smack, the “Robert Hadden,” a craft of 62
tons, has made from one to three trips to the island. She went thrice in
1875; only once in 1876, in consequence of unfavourable weather; and at
the time of my visit in the beginning of July, she had been twice since
the spring, with a third trip in prospect. Mr Mackenzie, the factor,
resides at Dunvegan, in Skye, and generally goes only once a-year to St
Kilda. This year he accompanied the smack on her second voyage, and
remained for about a week on the island. One of the inhabitants acts as
his local representative in the capacity of sub-factor, his designation
in Gaelic being maor, or ground - officer. The present functionary is
Neil Ferguson, who, by the way, has a handsome profile and otherwise a
good physique. The factor for the late proprietor, Sir John Macpherson
Macleod, who also resided in Skye, paid a yearly visit to St Kilda, in
May or June, and remained for a good many weeks, receiving the feathers
and other articles already specified. He usually took with him meal,
tea, sugar, salt, clothing, etc., for the use of the inhabitants, in
fulfilment of commissions given the preceding year. In 1853, he was
obliged to spend several months on the island, in consequence of the
vessel which was sent for him not having been able to accomplish the
voyage; and it was only in April of the following year that he succeeded
in reaching Skye. Seven years later (i860), the expected craft was lost,
with its entire cargo, in the east bay; and Mr M'Raild would have been
again detained on the island but for the arrival of H.M.S. “Porcupine,”
which conveyed him to his home.
It appears from Dean
Monro’s brief notice of Hirta that a similar visitation took place
towards the end of the sixteenth century. He states that “the
inhabitants thereof ar simple poor people, scarce learnit in aney
religion; bot M'Cloyd of Herray, his stewart, sailes anes in the zeir
ther at midsummer, with some chaplaine to baptize bairnes ther, and if
they want a chaplaine, they baptize ther bairnes themselfes. The said
stewart, as he himself tauld me, uses to take ane maske of malt ther
with a masking fatt, and makes his malt, and ere the fatt be ready, the
commons of the town, baith men, weemen, and bairns, puts their hands in
the fatt, and findis it sweeit, and eets the greyns after the sweeitness
thereof, quhilk they leave nather wirt or draff unsuppit out ther,
quharwith baith men, weemen, and bairns were deid drunken, sua that they
could not stand upon their feet The said stewart receives their dewties
in miell and reisted (salted) mutton, wyld foullis reisted, and selchis
” (seals).
At the time of Martin’s
visit, the factor or “steward” was one Alexander Macleod. “Upon his
arrival,” says our author, “he and his retinue—consisting of about fifty
persons—have all the milk of the isle bestowed upon them in a treat,”—a
second such treat, in which Martin himself participated, taking place on
St Columba’s Day, the 15th of June. After stating that “the steward
lives upon the charge of the inhabitants until the time that the solan
geese are ready to fly, which the inhabitants think long enough,” Martin
gives some detailed information relative to the daily allowance made by
the inhabitants in proportion to their respective holdings, and also
regarding their rigid adherence to ancient laws and measures. At that
period, in the absence of the steward, the St Kildans were governed by a
meijre, or officer, nominated by the former, of whose duties and
jurisdiction Martin furnishes a curious account. Besides some acres of
land in return for his services, the steward gave the officer “the
bonnet worn by himself on his going out of the island;” while the
steward’s wife left with the officer’s wife her kerch, or head-dress,
and also an ounce of indigo. On the other hand, the officer was bound to
present to the steward, at every meal, a large cake of barley,
“sufficient to satisfy three men at a time,” and also to furnish him
with mutton or beef for dinner “every Sunday during his residence in the
island.”
When Macaulay visited St
Kilda in 1758, the proprietor had given a lease of the island to a cadet
of his own family, at a yearly rent of about £11; and the predecessors
of that lessee had enjoyed the same privilege for three generations.
This steward, he states, required to be “at the annual expense of
fitting out a large Highland boat to bring his grain, feathers, or any
commodities he bought from the people to Harris, where he generally
resided. It must be confessed that the voyages made by him thither were
attended with some danger. In former times,” he adds, “the principal
persons of this little commonwealth came yearly in their own boat to
Dunvegan, the proprietor’s chief seat, and brought the small taxes they
had to pay.”
From Lord Brougham’s
‘Autobiography’ it appears that, forty years later, the steward, or
tacksman, paid two visits yearly to the island, “ to plunder, under the
name of Macleod's factor. He pays only £20 sterling to Macleod, and
makes above twice as much himself. For this purpose, all the milk of
cows is brought into his dairy from May-day to Michaelmas, and all the
ewes’ milk together for the whole year. Every second lamb-ram and every
seventh ewe go to the same quarter,—and this sanctified to his use under
the name of a tenth. The rest of the rent is made up in feathers, at the
rate of 3s. per stone, and the tacksman sells them in the Long Island
for 10s. He is quite absolute in dispensing justice; punishes crimes by
fines, and makes statutes of his own account, which are implicitly
obeyed. . . . There is no money current here—nothing like barter— and
the rate of assessing the rent to Macleod is the only criterion of the
prices of articles. According to this, we found that a fat sheep is
valued at 3s. 6d., a cow at 30s., a horse at 20s., barley at 16s. per
boll, and potatoes at 3s. per barrel, which may contain about eight
pecks.” In referring to the purchase of St Kilda by Colonel Macleod from
the heir of the ancient owners, a few years after Lord Brougham’s visit,
Macdonald, in his *Agriculture of the Hebrides,’ indirectly alludes to
the same system of pillage, describing the transference as “a blessing
to the inhabitants, who are no longer fleeced to the skin, but
encouraged to industry.” In a subsequent chapter I shall venture to make
a few remarks on the relative position of the islanders and their
present lord. |