The laird of Raarsa has sometimes disputed the chieftainry of the clan with Macleod of Skie, but, being much inferiour in extent of possessions, has, I suppose, been forced to desist.  Raarsa, and its provinces, have descended to its present possessour, through a succession of four hundred years, without any increase or diminution.  It was, indeed, lately in danger of forfeiture, but the old laird joined some prudence with his zeal, and when prince Charles landed in Scotland, made over his estate to this son, the present laird, and led one hundred men of Raarsa into the field, with officers of his own family.  Eighty-six only came back after the last battle.  The prince was hidden, in his distress, two nights at Raarsa, and the king’s troops burnt the whole country, and killed some of the cattle.

You may guess at the opinions that prevail in this country; they are, however, content with fighting for their king; they do not drink for him.  We had no foolish healths.  At night, unexpectedly to us, who were strangers, the carpet was taken up; the fiddler of the family came up, and a very vigorous and general dance was begun.  As I told you, we were two and thirty at supper; there were full as many dancers; for, though all who supped did not dance, some danced of the young people who did not sup.  Raarsa himself danced with his children, and old Malcolm, in his fillibeg, was as nimble, as when he led the prince over the mountains.  When they had danced themselves weary, two tables were spread, and, I suppose, at least twenty dishes were upon them.  In this country, some preparations of milk are always served up at supper, and sometimes, in the place of tarts, at dinner.  The table was not coarsely heaped, but, at once, plentiful and elegant.  They do not pretend to make a loaf; there are only cakes, commonly of oats or barley, but they made me very nice cakes of wheat flour.  I always sat at the left hand of lady Raarsa; and young Macleod of Skie, the chieftain of the clan, sat on the right.

After supper, a young lady, who was visiting, sung Erse songs, in which lady Raarsa joined, prettily enough, but not gracefully; the young ladies sustained the chorus better.  They are very little used to be asked questions, and not well prepared with answers.  When one of the songs was over, I asked the princess, that sat next to me, “What is that about?” I question if she conceived that I did not understand it.  “For the entertainment of the company,” said she.  “But, madam, what is the meaning of it?” “It is a love song.”  This was all the intelligence that I could obtain; nor have I been able to procure the translation of a single line of Erse.

At twelve it was bed-time.  I had a chamber to myself, which, in eleven rooms to forty people, was more than my share.  How the company and the family were distributed, is not easy to tell.  Macleod, the chieftain, and Boswell, and I, had all single chambers, on the first floor.  There remained eight rooms only, for, at least, seven and thirty lodgers.  I suppose they put up temporary beds in the dining-room, where they stowed all the young ladies.  There was a room above stairs with six beds, in which they put ten men.  The rest in my next.