These islands, with those of the Orkneys, make one of the counties of Scotland, which send a representative to the British Parliament.
The climate of these, as of all other isles of like size, is far from being settled. The atmosphere is, in general moist. They have also heavy snows, but not much frost; and are often visited by dreadful storms of wind, rain, and thunder, in so much that the water is agitated even to the bottom of these comparatively shallow seas.
Owing to the great refraction of northern latitudes, for about three months in summer they enjoy the sight of the sun almost without intermission; but for the same space in winter, (especially in December,) that luminary hardly rises above the horizon, and is commonly obscured by clouds and mists.
“The sun from far shows with a sickly face,
Too weak the fogs and mighty dews to chase.”
In this gloomy season, the absence of day is supplied partly by moon-light, and partly by the radiance of the aurora borealis, or merry-dancers, as they are called in these islands. These are the constant attendants of clear evenings, and prove great reliefs, amidst the gloom of the dark winter night. They commonly appear at twilight, near the horizon, of a dun colour, approaching to yellow; sometimes continuing in that state for several hours without any apparent motion, after which they break out into streams of stronger light, spreading into columns, and altering slowly into ten thousand different shapes, varying their colours from all the lines of yellow to the most obscure russet. They often cover the whole hemisphere, and then make the most brilliant appearance. Their motions at these times are amazingly quick; and they astonish the spectator with the rapid change of their form. They break out in places where none were seen before, skimming briskly along the heavens: are suddenly extinguished, and leave behind an uniform dusky tract. This again is brilliantly illuminated in the same manner, and as suddenly left a dull blank. In certain nights they assume the appearance of vast columns, on one side of the deepest yellow, on the other declining away, till it become undistinguished from the sky.
They have generally a strong tremulous motion from end to end, which continues till the whole vanish. According to the state of the atmosphere, they differ in colours. They often assume the colour of blood, and make a most dreadful appearance. The rustic sages represent these phenomena as prognosticative of future events, and thereby affright the gaping multitude with dread of war, famine, and pestilential devastations. Vid. Pen. Arct. Zool. vol. i. p. 27.
The ebb tides here run north, and the flood tides to the southward, unless on the north and south extremities of the country, where they run east and west; but their rapidity is inconsiderable when compared to that of the firths of Orkney.
The shores are generally lofty, and rise almost perpendicular from the ocean.
I went out with the captain in one of the ship’s boats, and sailed round some of the headlands of Unst. The scene was truly sublime:—fogs immured their summits; the noise of the sea dashing against the rocks;[2] and the screams of the eagles and other birds of prey, which there enjoy perfect security; combined with the sombre and terrific appearance exhibited by these bulwarks of nature, impressed us with awe and a pleasing kind of astonishment. The prospect to me was quite novel. I had formerly been familiar only with champaign countries; but I had no difficulty in declaring, that it was from some such scene as this only, that one could form an adequate conception of natural magnificence.