There has been much rather bitter discussion between the advocates of the two sides of the Highland question; often more recrimination and calling of names than telling argument. This question, we think, is no exception to the general rule which governs most disputed matters; there is truth, we believe, on both sides. We fear the facts already adduced in this part of the book comprise many of the assertions made by the advocates of change. As to the wretched social condition of the Highlanders, for long before and after 1745, there can be no doubt, if we can place any reliance on the evidence of contemporaries, and we have already said enough to show that the common system of farming, if worthy of the name, was ruinous and inefficient; while their small lean cattle were so badly managed that about one half died yearly. That the population was very much greater than the land, even if used to the best advantage, could support, is testified to by every candid writer from the Gartmore paper[63] down almost to the present day. The author of the Gartmore paper, written about 1747, estimated that the population of the Highlands at that time amounted to about 230,000; “but,” he says, “according to the present economy of the Highlands, there is not business for more than one half of that number of people.... The other half, then, must be idle and beggars while in the country.” “The produce of the crops,” says Pennant,[64] “very rarely are in any degree proportioned to the wants of the inhabitants; golden seasons have happened, when they have had superfluity, but the years of famine are as ten to one.” It is probable, from a comparison with the statistics of Dr Webster, taken in 1755,[65] that the estimate of the author of the Gartmore paper was not far from being correct; indeed, if anything, it must have been under the mark, as in 1755 the population of the Highlands and Islands amounted, according to Webster, to about 290,000, which, in 1795, had increased to 325,566,[66] in spite of the many thousands who had emigrated. This great increase in the population during the latter part of the 18th century is amply confirmed by the writers of the Statistical Accounts of the various Highland parishes, and none had better opportunities of knowing the real state of matters than they. The great majority of these writers likewise assert that the population was far too large in proportion to the produce of the land and means of employment, and that some such outlet as emigration was absolutely necessary. Those who condemn emigration and depopulation, generally do so for some merely sentimental reason, and seldom seek to show that it is quite possible to maintain the large population without disastrous results. It is a pity, they say, that the Highlander, possessing so many noble qualities, and so strongly attached to his native soil, should be compelled to seek a home in a foreign land, and bestow upon it the services which might be profitably employed by his mother country. By permitting, they say, these loyal and brave Highlanders to leave the country, Britain is throwing away some of the finest recruiting material in the world, for—and it is quite true—the Highland soldier has not his match for bravery, moral character, and patriotism.
These statements are no doubt true; it certainly is a pity that an inoffensive, brave, and moral people should be compelled to leave their native land, and devote to the cultivation of a foreign soil those energies which might be used to the benefit of their own country. It would also be very bad policy in government to lose the chance of filling up the ranks of the army with some of the best men obtainable anywhere. But then, if there was nothing for the people to do in the country, if their condition was one of chronic famine, as was undoubtedly the case with the Highlanders, if the whole productions of the country were insufficient even to keep them in bare life, if every few years the country had to contribute thousands of pounds to keep these people alive, if, in short, the majority of them were little else than miserable beggars, an encumbrance on the progress of their country, a continual source of sadness to all feeling men, gradually becoming more and more demoralised by the increasingly wretched condition in which they lived, and by the ever-recurring necessity of bestowing upon them charity to keep them alive,—if such were the case, the advocates for a thinning of the population urge, whom would it profit to keep such a rabble of half-starved creatures huddled together in a corner of the country, reaping for themselves nothing but misery and degradation, and worse than useless to everybody else. Moreover, as to the military argument, it is an almost universal statement made by the writers of the Old Statistical Account (about 1790), that, at that time, in almost all the Highland parishes it was scarcely possible to get a single recruit, so great was the aversion of the people both to a naval and military life. Besides, though the whole of the surplus population had been willing to volunteer into the army, of what value would it have been if the country had no use for them; and surely it would be very questionable policy to keep thousands of men in idleness on the bare chance that they might be required as soldiers.
The sentimental and military arguments are no doubt very touching and very convincing to men in whom impulse and imagination predominate over reason and clearness of vision, and are fitting subjects for a certain kind of poetry, which has made much of them; but they cannot for one moment stand the test of facts, and become selfishly cruel, impracticable, and disastrous, when contrasted with the teachings of genuine humanity and the best interests of the Highlanders. On this subject, the writer of the Old Statistical Account of the parish of Lochgoilhead makes some remarks so sensible, and so much to the point, that we are tempted to quote them here. “It is frequent,” he says, “with people who wish well to their country, to inveigh against the practice of turning several small farms into one extensive grazing, and dispossessing the former tenants. If the strength of a country depends upon the number of its inhabitants, it appears a pernicious measure to drive away the people by depriving them of their possessions. This complaint is very just with regard to some places in Scotland; for it must be greatly against the interest of the nation to turn rich arable land, which is capable at the same time of supporting a number of people, and of producing much grain, into pasture ground. But the complaint does not seem to apply to this country. The strength of a nation cannot surely consist in the number of idle people which it maintains; that the inhabitants of this part of the country were formerly sunk in indolence, and contributed very little to the wealth, or to the support of the state, cannot be denied. The produce of this parish, since sheep have become the principal commodity, is at least double the intrinsic value of what it was formerly, so that half the number of hands produce more than double the quantity of provisions, for the support of our large towns, and the supply of our tradesmen and manufacturers; and the system by which land returns the most valuable produce, and in the greatest abundance, seems to be the most beneficial for the country at large. Still, however, if the people who are dispossessed of this land emigrated into other nations, the present system might be justly condemned, as diminishing the strength of the country. But this is far from being the case; of the great number of people who have been deprived of their farms in this parish, for thirty years past, few or none have settled out of the kingdom; they generally went to sea, or to the populous towns upon the Clyde. In these places, they have an easy opportunity, which they generally embrace, of training up their children to useful and profitable employments, and of rendering them valuable members of society. So that the former inhabitants of this country have been taken from a situation in which they contributed nothing to the wealth, and very little to the support of the state, to a situation in which their labour is of the greatest public utility. Nor has the present system contributed to make the condition of the inhabitants of the country worse than it was before; on the contrary, the change is greatly in their favour. The partiality in favour of former times, and the attachment to the place of their nativity, which is natural to old people, together with the indolence in which they indulged themselves in this country, mislead them in drawing a comparison between their past and their present situations. But indolence was almost the only comfort which they enjoyed. There was scarcely any variety of wretchedness with which they were not obliged to struggle, or rather to which they were not obliged to submit. They often felt what it was to want food; the scanty crops which they raised were consumed by their cattle in winter and spring; for a great part of the year they lived wholly on milk, and even that in the end of spring and beginning of winter was very scarce. To such extremity were they frequently reduced, that they were obliged to bleed their cattle in order to subsist for some time upon the blood; and even the inhabitants of the glens and valleys repaired in crowds to the shore, at the distance of three or four miles, to pick up the scanty provision which the shell-fish afforded them. They were miserably ill clothed, and the huts in which they lived were dirty and mean beyond expression. How different from their present situation? They now enjoy the necessaries, and many of the comforts of life in abundance: even those who are supported by the charity of the parish feel no real want. Much of the wretchedness which formerly prevailed in this and in other parishes in the Highlands, was owing to the indolence of the people, and to their want of management; but a country which is neither adapted for agriculture nor for rearing black cattle, can never maintain any great number of people comfortably.”
No doubt the very men who deplore what they call the depopulation of the Highlands would advocate the advisability of emigration in the case of the unemployed surplus population of any other part of the country. If their arguments against the emigration of the Highlanders to another country, and in favour of their being retained in their own district were logically carried out, to what absurd and disastrous consequences would they lead? Supposing that all the people who have emigrated from this country to America, Australia, and elsewhere, had been kept at home, where would this country have been? There would scarcely have been standing room for the population, the great majority of whom must have been in a state of indescribable misery. The country would have been ruined. The same arguments might also be used against the emigration of the natives of other countries, many of whom are no doubt as attached to their native soil as the Highlanders; and if the principle had been rigidly carried out, what direful consequences to the world at large would have been the result. In fact, there would have been little else but universal barbarism. It seems to be admitted by all thoughtful men that the best outlet for a redundant or idle population is emigration; it is beneficial to the mother country, beneficial to the emigrants, and beneficial to the new country in which they take up their abode. Only thus can the earth be subdued, and made the most of.
Why then should there be any lamentation over the Highlanders leaving their country more than over any other class of respectable willing men? Anything more hopelessly wretched than their position at various times from 1745 down to the present day it would be impossible to imagine. If one, however, trusted the descriptions of some poets and sentimentalists, a happier or more comfortably situated people than the Highlanders at one time were could not be found on the face of the globe. They were always clean, and tidy, and well dressed, lived in model cottages, surrounded by model gardens, had always abundance of plain wholesome food and drink, were exuberant in their hospitality, doated on their chiefs, carefully cultivated their lands and tended their flocks, but had plenty of time to dance and sing, and narrate round the cheerful winter hearth the legends of their people, and above all, feared God and honoured the king. Now, these statements have no foundation in fact, at least within the historical period; but generally the writers on this side of the question refer generally to the period previous to 1745, and often, in some cases, to a time subsequent to that. Every writer who pretends to record facts, the result of observation, and not to draw imaginary Arcadian pictures, concurs in describing the country as being sunk in the lowest state of wretchedness. The description we have already given of the condition of the people before 1745, applies with intensified force to the greater part of the Highlands for long after that year. Instead of improving, and often there were favourable opportunities for improvement, the people seemed to be retrograding, getting more and more demoralised, more and more miserable, more and more numerous, and more and more famine-struck. In proof of what we say, we refer to all the writers on and travellers in the Highlands of last century, to Pennant, Boswell, Johnson, Newte, Buchanan,[67] and especially the Old Statistical Account. To let the reader judge for himself as to the value of the statements we make as to the condition of the Highlands during the latter part of last century, we quote below a longish extract from a pamphlet written by one who had visited and enquired into the state of the Highlands about the year 1780.[68] It is written by one who deplores the extensive emigration which was going on, but yet who, we are inclined to believe, has slightly exaggerated the misery of the Highlanders in order to make the sin of absentee chiefs, who engross farms, and raise enormously the rents, as great as possible. Still, when compared with the statements made by other contemporary authorities, the exaggeration seems by no means great, and making allowances, the picture presented is a mocking, weird contrast to the fancies of the sentimentalist. That such a woful state of things required radical and uncompromising measures of relief, no one can possibly deny. Yet this same writer laments most pitiably that 20,000 of these wretched people had to leave their wretched homes and famine-struck condition, and the oppression of their lairds, for lands and houses of their own in a fairer and more fertile land, where independence and affluence were at the command of all who cared to bend their backs to labour. What good purpose, divine or human, could be served by keeping an increasing population in a land that cannot produce enough to keep the life in one-half of its people? Nothing but misery, and degradation, and oppression here; happiness, advancement, riches, and freedom on the other side of the water. Is there more than one conclusion?
In spite of all the emigration that has taken place from this country, no one has, we daresay, any real dread of depopulation; the population is increasing over all the land every year, not excepting the Highlands. As for soldiers, no doubt plenty will be forthcoming when wanted; if not so, it is not for want of men well enough fitted for the occupation. As every one knows, there is seldom a want of willing workers in this country, but far more frequently a great want of work to do.
That by far the larger part of the surface of the Highland districts is suited only for the pasturage of sheep, is the testimony of every one who knows anything about the subject. Those who speak otherwise must either ignore facts or speak of what they do not know, urged merely by impulse and sentimentalism. True, there are many spots consisting of excellent soil suited for arable purposes, but generally where such do occur the climate is so unfavourable to successful agriculture that no expenditure will ever produce an adequate return.[69] Other patches again, not, however, of frequent occurrence, have everything in their favour, and are as capable of producing luxuriant crops as the most fertile district of the lowlands. But nearly all these arable spots, say those who advocate the laying of the whole country under sheep, it is absolutely necessary to retain as winter pasturage, if sheep-farming is to be carried on successfully. The mountainous districts, comprising nearly the whole of the Highlands, are admirably suited for sheep pasturage when the weather is mild; but in winter are so bleak and cold, and exposed to destructive storms, that unless the sheep during winter can be brought down to the low and sheltered grounds, the loss of a great part of the flocks would inevitably be the consequence. Hence, it is maintained, unless nearly the whole of the country is allowed to lie waste, or unless a sheep farmer makes up his mind to carry on an unprofitable business, the arable spots in the valleys and elsewhere must, as a rule, be retained as pasture. And this seems to be the case in most districts. It must not be imagined, however, that the surface of the Highlands is one universal expanse of green and brown fragrant heather; every tourist knows that in almost every glen, by the side of many lochs, streams, and bogs, patches of cultivated land are to be met with, bearing good crops of oats, barley, potatoes, and turnips. These productions chiefly belong to the large sheep farmers, and are intended for the use of themselves, their servants, and cattle, and but seldom have they any to dispose of. Others of these arable spots belong to small farmers, the race of whom is happily not yet extinct. But, on the whole, it would seem that so far as agricultural products are concerned, the Highlands seldom, if ever, produce sufficient to supply the wants of the inhabitants, importation being thus necessary.
A curious and interesting point connected with the introduction of sheep into the Highlands may be mentioned here:—By means of this innovation, the whole aspect of the country seems to have been changed. Previous to that, the whole country seems to have borne a universal aspect of blackness, rarely relieved by a spot of green, arising from the fact that almost the only product of the mountains was dark-brown heath. Captain Burt and others who visited the Highlands previous to the extensive introduction of sheep, indulge in none of the raptures over Highland scenery, that the most common-place and prosy tourist thinks it his duty to get into at the present day. They speak of the country almost with horror, as a black howling wilderness, full of bogs and big boulders, and almost unfit for human habitation. They could see no beauty in the country that it should be desired; it was a place to get out of as soon as possible. How far these sentiments may have been justified by facts it is impossible now to say; but it is the almost universal assertion by the writers in the Old Statistical Account, that the appearance of the Highland hills was rapidly changing, and that instead of the universal dark-brown heath which previously covered them, there was springing up the light-brown heath and short green bent or strong grass so well known to all modern tourists. If the Highland hills formerly bore anything like the aspect presented at the present day by the dreary black wet hills of Shetland, the remarks of Burt and others need not cause astonishment. But as the great outlines and peculiar features of the country must have been the same then as now, we suspect that these early English adventurers into the Highlands wanted training in scenery or were determined to see nothing to admire. But, indeed, admiration of and hunting for fine scenery seem to be quite a modern fashion, and were quite unknown to our ancestors in the beginning of last century, or were confined to a few crazy poets. Men require to be trained to use their eyes in this as in many other respects. There can be no doubt that the first impulse to the admiration of the Highlands and Highlanders was given by the poems and novels of Sir Walter Scott; it was he who set the sheepish stream of tourists agoing, and indirectly to him many a Highland hotel-keeper owes a handsome fortune. The fact at all events seems unquestionable, that the extensive introduction of sheep has to a large extent changed the external aspect of the Highlands.
It must not be imagined that, previous to the changes we are speaking of, there were no sheep in the Highlands; there were always a few of a very small native breed, but the staple stock of the Highland farmer was, as we previously mentioned, black cattle. The sheep, however, have also to a very large extent superseded them, a fact which is deplored by those who lament the many innovations which have been introduced since 1745. But by all accounts much of the country is unsuited to the pasturage of black cattle, and as cattle and sheep do not thrive well together, the only alternative seems to be the introduction of sheep alone into those districts unsuited for cattle. “More than one-third of the country consists of mountains and declivities too steep and abrupt for black cattle, and the grass they produce too short and fine to afford them a tolerable pasture except in the height of summer. The greater part of the pasture is therefore lost, though it might all be beneficially consumed with sheep. A flock of sheep will thrive where cows and oxen would starve, and will go at all seasons of the year to such heights as are inaccessible to black cattle.... In a situation of this kind the very wool of a flock would amount to more than the whole profit to be obtained by black cattle.”[70] The only conclusion to be drawn from these statements is, that the wisest thing that could be done was to introduce sheep into those districts which were being wasted on black cattle.
Along with the introduction of sheep, indeed, to a great extent caused by that, was the enlargement of farms, which with the raising of rents led to the depopulation of many districts. The old system of letting farms in the Highlands has already been sufficiently explained, and the introduction of sheep seems to have rendered it necessary that this old system should be abolished, and that a large extent of country should be taken by one man. The question between large and small farms does not appear to us to be the same as between the old and new system of letting land. Under the old system, a farm of no great extent was often let to a large number of tenants, who frequently subdivided it still more, by either sub-letting part, or by sharing their respective portions with their newly-married sons and daughters. The testimony as to the perniciousness of this old system is universal; it was, and until recently continued to be, the chief source of all the misfortunes that have afflicted the Highlands. As to whether, however, this old system should have been entirely abolished, or whether some modification of it might not have been retained, has been a matter of dispute. Some maintain that the Highlands can be profitably managed only on the large farm system, and only thus can sheep be made to pay, while others assert that, though many districts are suitable for large farms, still there are others that might with great profit be divided into small holdings. By this latter method, it is said, a fair proportion of all classes would be maintained in the Highlands, noblemen, gentlemen, farmers large and small, cottars, labourers, and that only when there is such a mixture can a country be said to be prosperous. Moreover, it is held a proprietor, who in this country should be considered as a steward rather than the absolute owner of his estate, has no right to exclude the small farmer from having a chance of making a respectable living by the occupation for which he is suited; that he stands in the way of his own and his country’s interests when he discourages the small farmer, for only by a mixture of the two systems can the land be made the most of; and that, to say the least of it, it is selfish and wrong in proprietors not to consider the case of the poor as well as the rich.