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Recording manuscript material imported into the Royal Society’s archives is always an interesting experience, and you never quite know what new areas of knowledge you’ll be exposed to. We expect period science of course – but ? Not on my bingo card for this year, but I’m up for it.

The Society holds the largest collection of manuscripts relating to the Herschel family of astronomers, particularly the correspondence of (1792-1871). A little while ago, we acquired at auction a supplementary collection of original content which opened up information on (1810-1884), Sir John’s wife, and her side of the family tree. That’s where the Scottish connection comes in: Margaret’s father, Alexander Stewart (1764-1821) was a Church of Scotland minister, and an expert on the Gaelic language. His , which I’m cataloguing at present, belongs to a network of Highland clergymen, academics and clan chieftains, intent on collecting regional Gaelic vocabulary and systematising it into dictionaries, grammars and song collections. Their intention was to guarantee Gaelic’s long-term future as a living language, and of course to instruct their Scottish-speaking flocks.

A definition of 'abhsadh', from Alexander Stewart’s correspondence, 1804 ()

The preservation of such material should come as no surprise to anyone familiar with the polyglot Herschels. Sir John Herschel himself was inclined to translate Greek, Italian and German verse classics, while the Stewart connection was celebrated into the next generation by the christening of (1836-1907), who became an astronomer specialising in meteor observations. Although it may seem a little left-field, Margaret’s father’s interests fit neatly into the wider archive.

One name among Alexander Stewart’s contacts caught my eye, that of another Scottish minister, John Stuart (1743-1821) of Luss. Stuart was one of the founding members of our North-of-the-Border sister institution, the , a botanist, and a co-translator of the Bible into Scottish Gaelic. Both Alexander and John were interested in publishing a Gaelic dictionary, and their letters contain a polite but wary circling around the topic of deciding who got to go first. John Stuart’s varied expertise made him invaluable to one important Fellow of the Royal Society, the Welsh naturalist (1726-1798). Stuart would become Pennant’s travelling companion, fellow plant collector, and advisor on Scottish language and customs.

Owl, from Thomas Pennant’s Indian zoology, 1790

Pennant’s natural history books were an influential and comprehensive series of taxonomic and descriptive texts, commencing with his (smaller edition 1768), the (1781), (1790) and others. The travel writings, including his embarkation on a first Scottish tour in 1769, were more general, but also intended to investigate the country’s natural history.

Pennant is an amusingly disgruntled travelling companion. Despite his many early works of natural history, and his later tours to many parts, you quickly get the idea from (1771) that journeying wasn’t his favourite pursuit. The book has him setting off from Chester en route to Macclesfield (‘flat, rich, but unpleasant country’) and then reaching Buxton, where the waters temporarily revived his spirits: ‘I recollect with rapture … the flight of pain, and re-animation of my long, long crippled rheumatic limbs’. Next, cross-country to Chesterfield (‘an ugly town’), Lincoln (‘an ancient but ill-built city’), Hornsea (‘remarkable only for its mere’), Newcastle (‘a large disagreeable town’) and Alnwick (‘the traveller is disappointed’).

Happily, Pennant cheered up a little by the time he entered Scotland, particularly at Edinburgh, which possessed ‘a boldness and grandeur of situation beyond any I have ever seen … a look of magnificence not to be found in any other part of Great Britain’. His remarks on antiquarian matters, local customs, geology and natural history populate the Scottish journey; but in publishing the account he realised he was dissatisfied with it, considering the book to be incomplete. This resulted in a second volume, (1774) which was dedicated to , soon to be President of the Royal Society. John Stuart of Luss is acknowledged too, as an agreeable and worthy companion.

The Island of Staffa, by , from Thomas Pennant’s 1772 tour

To the average English gentleman of the mid-eighteenth century, the Highlands of Scotland were as much terra incognita as Banks’s South Seas. Pennant’s books served to promote the idea of exploring Scotland, although one or two travellers may have taken the voyaging comparison a little too literally. Inspired by Pennant’s first tour, the intrepid (1709-1784) and his aide and biographer (1740-1795) followed with their own journey, writing the well-known complementary accounts of their adventures.

There is a famous anecdote of Dr Johnson entertaining his Scottish hosts in August 1773 by referring to Joseph Banks’s Endeavour voyage and imitating a kangaroo by hopping across the room. But I like to think of the great dictionary writer as one of a host of eighteenth century ‘harmless drudges’ (Johnson’s own definition of a lexicographer) – including Alexander Stewart, John Stuart, Thomas Pennant and many more – enjoying a little time off, blinking in the light and fresh air of the Highlands.