CHAPTER XXXVII.

A.D. 1746.

BRITISH SOVEREIGN:--George II., 1727-1760.

Charles leaves Benbecula and lands in the island of Glass--Proceeds to Harris--Iffurt--Glass--Benbecula--Removes to South Uist--Meets Miss Flora Macdonald--Charles proceeds to Skye--Goes to Kingsburgh House--Portree--Proceeds to Raasay--Returns to Skye--Goes to Ellagol--Interview with the Laird of Mackinnon, with whom he proceeds to the Mainland--Arrives in Loch Nevis in Moidart--Arrest of Malcolm Macleod, Macdonald of Kingsburgh, and Flora Macdonald--Pursuit of Charles--Proceeds to Morar--Borodale--Glen Morar--Narrow Escapes--Reaches Glenshiel--Entertained by robbers in a cave--Death of Roderick Mackenzie, who is mistaken for the Prince--Charles arrives in Strathglass--Braes of Glengarry--Cameron of Clunes--Auchnacarry--Narrow Escape of Charles--Benalder--Cage fitted for Charles’s reception--The Prince embarks at Borodale, and arrives safely in France.

The storm which drove Charles with such rapidity upon the distant shores of Benbecula continued for fourteen hours after he had landed. Accommodating himself to the new situation in which he was placed, he manifested no symptoms of dejection at his reverse of fortune, partook cheerfully along with his companions of the homely fare before him, and with an old sail for a bed, reposed upon the floor of his lowly dwelling. In Benbecula the prince was visited by old Clanranald, to whom the island belonged; and having afterwards had an interview in South Uist with Boisdale, Clanranald’s brother, Charles was advised by him to proceed to Stornoway, the principal seaport in the island of Lewis, and there give out that he and his company were the crew of a merchant ship belonging to the Orkneys, which had been wrecked on the isle of Tiree, and under the pretence of returning home, hire a vessel for that purpose, and escape to France.[1240] Accordingly, after passing two days in Benbecula, Charles and his party set sail for Stornoway on the 29th of April; but in consequence of a strong gale of wind from the south-west, they were obliged to put in next morning at the small isle of Scalpa or Glass, near Harris, about half way between Benbecula and Stornoway. They landed about two hours before daybreak, and were conducted by Donald Macleod to the house of Donald Campbell, a farmer, known to Macleod, to whom they were introduced as merchants shipwrecked on their voyage to the Orkneys. The prince and O’Sullivan took the name of Sinclair, and the latter passed off as Charles’ father. The whole party was hospitably entertained by Campbell, who lent Macleod a boat with which he proceeded next day, the 1st of May, to Stornoway to hire a vessel, leaving Charles and his friends behind.

Having succeeded in hiring a small vessel of forty tons, Macleod sent an express to Charles announcing his success, and requesting him to proceed to Stornoway. This message was received on the 3d of May, and the prince left the isle of Glass next day; but the wind proving contrary, he was obliged to land in Loch Seaforth, in the island of Lewis, a considerable distance from Stornoway. Here Allan Macdonald took his leave. Accompanied by O’Sullivan, O’Neil, and his guide, Charles set out on foot for Stornoway, over a wild and trackless waste, in a very dark and rainy night. The guide lost his way, and the party did not reach the neighbourhood of Stornoway till next day at noon. This mistake, on the part of the conductor, was a fortunate circumstance, as the advanced hour of the day prevented Charles from entering the town, where he might have been seized by the inhabitants, who having received information from the Presbyterian minister of South Uist, that the prince had landed in Lewis with 500 men, with a design of burning their town, carrying off their cattle, and forcing a vessel to carry him to France, afterwards rose in arms to oppose him. Charles stopped at the Point of Arynish, about half a mile from Stornoway, and sent in the guide to acquaint Macleod of his arrival, and to bring out some refreshment, as he and his fellow-travellers had been eighteen hours without food. Donald immediately repaired to the spot with some brandy, bread, and cheese, and found Charles and his two companions standing on a moor extremely fatigued and all wet to the skin. Donald then took them to the house of Mrs. Mackenzie of Kildun, at Arynish, where the prince went to bed. Returning to Stornoway, Macleod was quite amazed to find the town in commotion, and above 200 men under arms. Unable to comprehend the meaning of this sudden rising, Donald went directly into the room where the gentlemen who had taken upon them the rank of officers had assembled, and inquired the cause of such a strange proceeding. He was instantly assailed with abuse by every person present: they informed him of the intelligence they had received from Uist of Charles’s landing, and of his alleged intentions, and they accused Macleod as the cause of the calamity with which they were threatened. Unable to deny the fact of Charles’s arrival in Lewis, Macleod at once admitted it, and to allay their fears he informed them, that so far from having a body of 500 men along with him, as represented, he was attended by two companions only; “and yet,” said Donald, with an air of defiance, “let me tell you farther, gentlemen, if Seaforth himself were here, by G-- he durst not put a hand to the prince’s breast!”[1241] The gentlemen present then declared that they had no intention to do the prince the least harm, and the only thing they required of him was to leave the island. Donald offered instantly to comply, and requested them to give him a pilot, but they refused; and although he offered the most liberal payment he could not obtain one. Alarmed for the consequences of being privy to the prince’s escape, the master of the vessel which had been hired, either suspecting the object, or let, as is supposed, into the secret by Macleod, refused to implement his bargain.[1242]

Returning to the prince, Macleod informed him of these disagreeable occurrences. A proposal was made to fly to the moors; but Charles, thinking that such a step would encourage his enemies to pursue, he resolved to pass the night at Kildun. Here the party killed a cow, for which the lady refused payment, but being pressed by Macleod she at last took the money. Edward Burke performed the duties of cook; but the prince, on the present occasion, superintended the culinary department, and with his own hands prepared a cake of oatmeal, mixed with the brains of the cow, and baked it upon a stone before the fire. At daybreak next morning the party left the island, carrying along with them a small stock of beef, two pecks of meal, and abundance of brandy and sugar. At this time the prince, O’Sullivan, and O’Neil had only six shirts amongst them, and being often drenched with rain, they were frequently obliged to take off the wet ones before the others were half dry. Conceiving that he would be more secure on the mainland than among the islands, Charles resolved to return thither, and ordered the boatmen to carry him to Bollein in Kintail; but they refused on account of the length of the voyage, which they considered dangerous in an open boat. They, therefore, proceeded southwards along the coast; but they had not proceeded far when they observed two large vessels at a distance sailing northwards, and making towards them. To avoid these ships they put into the small isle called Euirn or Iffurt, near Harris, a little to the northward of the island of Glass. On landing, the prince and his attendants went to the summit of a little hill to observe the ships. Charles thought they were French, but his companions considered them English. He was desirous to ascertain the fact, but the boatmen could not be prevailed upon to go out and reconnoitre them. It is probable that these were the two frigates from Nantz, which arrived in Lochnanuagh the day after Charles’s departure from that place, and having landed the money, arms, and ammunition they had brought over for his service, were returning to France.[1243]

The little island on which Charles now was, was inhabited by a few fishermen, who, imagining the prince’s boat to be a press-boat belonging to one of the ships of war, ran away to conceal themselves, leaving their fish behind. Charles and his party fared upon some of the fish which they found drying upon the beach. Unwilling to deprive the poor fishermen of any part of their hard-earned spoils without an equivalent, the prince was about laying down some money on the place from which the fish were taken; but on one of his followers representing to him that by doing so the fishermen might suppose that some person of note had visited the island, and that such an idea might lead to bad consequences, he desisted. Charles remained in this desolate island four days, during all which time he and his party lay in a wretched hut, resembling a hog-sty, and so wretchedly roofed that they were obliged to spread the boat’s sail over the top of it. They lay upon the bare floor, without any covering, and to prevent surprise, kept watch by turns.

Resolving to return to Glass to pay Donald Campbell a visit, Charles left the little island of Iffurt on the 10th of May, and coursed along the shores of the Long Island till he arrived at the isle of Glass. Understanding that Campbell had absconded, from an apprehension that he would be seized for having entertained the prince,--a rumour to that effect having got abroad,--the prince left Glass the same day. There being no wind, the boatmen were obliged to row all night; but about daybreak, the wind began to rise, and hoisting sail, they scudded along the coast of Harris. Having no fresh water on board, they were forced, from lack of other provisions, to use oatmeal made up with salt water, of which Charles partook heartily. This salt water _drammach_, as this extraordinary preparation was called, was qualified with a dram of brandy, which the prince distributed from a bottle he held in his hand.

In coursing along Harris, Charles, while crossing the mouth of Finsbay, espied a ship of war, commanded by Captain Ferguson, lying in the bay, at the distance of about two musket shots, which immediately gave them chase. The ship followed them three leagues; but they escaped among the rocks at the point of Roudil in the Harris. They then kept close to the shore, and in passing along the coast of North Uist were observed by another war vessel lying in Lochmaddy, which also gave them chase. Charles reached Benbecula after a very close pursuit, and had scarcely landed when a storm arose, which drove the vessels that pursued him off the coast. After this escape, Charles could not help remarking, that Providence would not permit him to be taken at this time.

It being low water when Charles landed in Benbecula, one of the boatmen went among the rocks in quest of shell-fish, and found a crab, which he held up to the prince with an expression of joy. Taking up a pail which lay in the boat, Charles immediately proceeded to the spot where the boatman stood, and, in conjunction with him, soon filled the pail with crabs. The party then proceeded to a small hut which lay at the distance of two miles. Charles carried the pail, which Macleod insisted on relieving him of; but Charles refused to part with it, observing that he and the rest of the company might carry the baggage. The door of the hovel was so low, that the party could only enter by creeping in on their hands and knees; but to make the entry easier for the prince, Burke dug away part of the ground, and put heather below the prince’s knees. From this homely residence, Charles sent a message to old Clanranald, acquainting him of his return to Benbecula, and of the difficulties with which he was beset. Clanranald repaired without delay to the hut, and promised Charles all the assistance in his power to enable him to leave the kingdom. Lady Clanranald, at the same time, sent Charles half-a-dozen of shirts, some shoes and stockings, a supply of wine and brandy, and other articles, to make his situation as comfortable as circumstances would admit of. After passing several days in this miserable habitation, Charles, by the advice of Clanranald, removed to South Uist, and took up his abode near the hill of Coradale, in the centre of the island, which was considered a more secure place of retreat.

When on the eve of leaving Benbecula, Charles despatched Donald Macleod in Campbell’s boat, which he still retained, to the mainland, with letters to Lochiel and Secretary Murray, desiring to know how affairs stood, and requesting that a supply of cash and brandy might be sent to him. Donald met Lochiel and Murray at the head of Loch Arkaig; but Murray, from whom he was desired to obtain the money, informed him that he had none to spare, having only sixty louis-d’ors, which he meant to keep for his own necessities. Donald received letters from Lochiel and Murray to the prince, and, having found the means, he purchased two ankers of brandy, at a guinea each, for the use of the prince, with which he returned after an absence of eighteen days.[1244]

On his return he found the prince in a more comfortable dwelling than that in which he had left him. He had removed to South Uist on the 16th of May, and lived in the house of one of Clanranald’s tenants, situated upon Coradale. The house not being water-tight, two cow-hides were placed upon four sticks to prevent the rain from falling upon him when asleep. The house in which the prince lodged was called the Forest house of Glencoradale, and though the situation was remote, it was the best that could be devised for securing a retreat either to the hills or to the sea, according to circumstances. There being abundance of game in the island, the prince occupied himself almost daily in his favourite amusements of hunting and shooting. His dexterity in shooting birds upon the wing was particularly remarked. To vary his recreation, he frequently went down to the sea-shore, and going on board a small boat, caught, with hand-lines, some small fishes, called lyths by the inhabitants. Clanranald and his lady did every thing in their power to render his situation agreeable; and Clanranald placed twelve able men at his disposal to serve as guides through the island, and to execute any orders Charles might give them.

While Charles was thus passing his time in South Uist, his situation every day was becoming more and more critical. The Long island, as the principal group of the Hebrides is called, was surrounded on every side by cutters, sloops of war, and frigates. Upwards of fifteen hundred militia and some regular troops were landed in different parts of the island, and a guard was posted at every ferry in the archipelago to prevent any person from getting out of it without a passport. Charles was made aware of his danger; but he declined to leave the Long island till he should receive some farther intelligence, which Clanranald endeavoured to obtain by crossing over to the mainland. At length the peril of Charles became so imminent, that there appeared no possibility of an escape. He had already spent three weeks in South Uist; and though his residence was known to upwards of a hundred persons, all of whom were probably aware of the splendid reward which had been offered for his apprehension, yet such was the fidelity of these poor people, that not one of them betrayed their trust, by giving notice to the emissaries of the government of the place of his concealment. He lived in comparative security in South Uist till about the middle of June, when, in consequence of the presence of a body of militia in the island of Eriska, which lies between Barra and South Uist, he found it absolutely necessary to shift his quarters. He accordingly left South Uist in Campbell’s boat with his four companions, on the 14th of June, and landed in the small isle of Wia or Fovaya, between South Uist and Benbecula, in which he remained four nights; and on the 18th, the prince, O’Neil, and Burke, went to Rossinish, leaving O’Sullivan and Macleod in Wia. Charles passed two nights at Rossinish; but receiving information that some militia were approaching Benbecula, he resolved to return to Coradale. O’Sullivan and Macleod anticipated Charles’s design by bringing the boat to Rossinish during the night, and having set sail, they encountered a violent storm, accompanied with a heavy rain, which forced them to land upon the rock called Achkirside-allich at Uishinish Point, in a cleft of which they took up their quarters. At night, finding their enemies within two miles of them, they sailed again, and arrived safely at a place called Celiestiella, whence they steered towards Loch Boisdale; but, observing a boat in their way, they returned to their former place, where they passed the night. They proceeded to Loch Boisdale next day, where they were informed that Boisdale had been made a prisoner, a circumstance which perplexed Charles exceedingly, as Boisdale, from his perfect knowledge of the different places of concealment in the Long island, was the chief person on whom he relied for directions in his various movements. Charles skulked some days about Loch Boisdale, where he and his attendants received occasional supplies of food from Lady Boisdale.[1245]

During the time the prince remained in Loch Boisdale, he was kept in a perpetual state of alarm by the vessels of war which hovered off the coast of South Uist. At one time no less than fifteen sail were in sight; and two of them having entered the Loch, Charles and his companions abandoned the boat, and fled to the mountains. The vessels having gone out to sea, Charles and his party returned to the boat, in which they had left a small stock of provisions; and having taken out the sails for the purpose of covering them, they lay in the fields two nights on the south side of the Loch. Removing the third night farther up the inlet, they passed two other nights in the same way, suffering all the time the greatest privations. Hitherto the military had not visited South Uist; but information was brought on the last of these days to Charles, that a party, under Captain Caroline Scott, an officer celebrated, along with General Hawley, Major Lockhart, and others, for his cruelties, had just landed at the head of a body of 500 regulars and militia, within a mile and a half of the place where Charles then was. On receiving this alarming intelligence, Charles instantly resolved to separate his party; and leaving O’Sullivan, Macleod, and Burke, with the boatmen, to shift for themselves, he and O’Neil went off to the mountains, carrying only two shirts along with them. The faithful Macleod was so affected at parting that he shed tears.[1246]

Beset with dangers on every hand, Charles and his companion directed their steps towards Benbecula, and, about midnight, came to a hut into which O’Neil entered. Providentially for Charles, O’Neil here found Miss Flora Macdonald, with whom he had got lately acquainted at Ormaclade, the seat of Clanranald, in Benbecula, when on a visit to the chief, whose kinswoman she was. This lady, whose memory will ever be held in esteem by posterity, for her generous and noble disinterestedness in rescuing the prince from the imminent perils which surrounded him, was the daughter of Macdonald of Milton, in the island of South Uist. Her father left her an orphan when only a year old, and her mother had married Macdonald of Armadale, in the isle of Skye, who commanded one of the militia companies raised in that island by Sir Alexander Macdonald, and was now in South Uist at the head of his corps. Miss Macdonald was about twenty-four years of age, of the middle size, and to the attractions of a handsome figure and great vivacity, she added the more estimable mental qualities of good sense, blandness of temper, and humanity. The hut in which O’Neil now met Miss Macdonald belonged to her only brother, Angus Macdonald of Milton, in whose family she then resided.

As O’Neil recollected that Miss Macdonald had expressed, in his presence, an earnest desire to see the prince, and had offered to do any thing in her power to protect him, it occurred to O’Neil that, on the present occasion, she might render an essential service to the prince if, after dressing him in female attire, she would pass him off as her maid-servant, and carry him to Skye. O’Neil at once proposed his plan to the young lady; but she thought it fantastical and dangerous, and at first positively refused to engage in it. As parties of the Macdonald, Macleod, and Campbell militia were roaming over the island of South Uist in quest of Charles, as no person could leave the island without a passport, and as there was a guard posted at every ferry, and the channel between Uist and Skye covered with ships of war, the utter hopelessness of such an attempt appeared evident. Bent, however, upon his plan, O’Neil was resolved to try what effect Charles’s own presence would have upon the young lady in inducing her to yield, and he accordingly introduced her to the prince. Miss Macdonald was so strongly impressed with his critical and forlorn state, that, on seeing Charles, she almost instantly consented to conduct him to Skye. She describes the prince at this time as in a bad state of health; and though of a thin and weak habit of body, and greatly worn out by fatigue, yet exhibiting a cheerfulness, magnanimity, and fortitude, which those only who saw him could have credited.[1247]

Having thus given her consent to O’Neil’s proposal, Miss Macdonald instantly proceeded to Clanranald’s house to procure the necessary requisites for the intended voyage to Skye. In crossing one of the fords on her way to Ormaclade, she and her man-servant, Neil Mac Eachan,[1248] not having passports, were taken prisoners by a party of militia, and, being detained till next morning, were brought before the commanding officer, who luckily turned out to be her own step-father, Captain Hugh Macdonald. Having stated to him her intention of proceeding to Skye to her mother, she, without difficulty or suspicion, procured a passport from her stepfather, for herself, a manservant, and her maid, who, in the passport, was called Betty Burke, (the name the prince was to assume,) and who was recommended by Captain Macdonald to his wife as an excellent spinner of flax, and a faithful servant.[1249] Next day at four o’clock in the afternoon, Charles received a message from Miss Macdonald, who had reached Ormaclade, informing him that “all was well;” on receiving which, he and O’Neil resolved to join her immediately; but, to their great consternation, the messenger informed them that they could not pass either of the fords that separated South Uist from Benbecula as they were both guarded by the military. In their perplexity, an inhabitant offered to convey them in his boat to Benbecula; and they were accordingly landed on a promontory of that island. They dismissed the boat, after having given orders to the boatmen to meet them on the opposite side of the island, and proceeded on their journey; but they had not gone far when they observed that the land on which they stood was surrounded by water. Thinking that the pilot had made a mistake, they hallooed after the boat, but in vain, as it was already far from the shore. As it was high water, Charles and his companion imagined that they could obtain a dry passage on the subsiding of the tide; but they were disappointed. The situation of the prince now appeared dismal. After escaping so many dangers, he had at present no prospect but to starve upon a desert island. Nevertheless, he kept up his spirit; and, after a laborious search, he succeeded in finding a ford, by which he and his companion crossed.[1250] Charles and his companion arrived at Rossinish, the place of rendezvous, about midnight, wet to the skin, and exhausted with hunger and fatigue. Finding that a party of military was stationed at a short distance, they retired to another place, about four miles from Rossinish, whence O’Neil went to Ormaclade to ascertain the reason why Miss Macdonald had not kept her appointment. In explanation, she informed him, that conceiving the prince would be safer in North Uist than in Skye, she had engaged a cousin of her own in North Uist to receive him into his house. This gentleman, however, having afterwards declined to run the risk of harbouring the prince, Miss Macdonald made the necessary preparations for her voyage. Having hired a six-oared boat to carry her to Skye, which she ordered to be in readiness at an appointed place the following day, Miss Macdonald left Ormaclade on the 27th of June, along with Lady Clanranald, a Mrs. Macdonald and Mac Eachan, all of whom were conducted by O’Neil to the place where Charles lay concealed, about eight miles from Ormaclade. On entering the hovel, they found Charles employed in roasting, for dinner, the heart, liver, and kidneys of a sheep upon a wooden spit. The ladies began to compassionate the prince upon his unfortunate situation; but he diverted their attention from this melancholy subject by some facetious observations. He remarked that the wretched to-day may be happy to-morrow, and that all great men would be better by suffering as he was doing. The party dined in the hut, Miss Macdonald sitting on the right, and Lady Clanranald on the left hand of the prince.

After dinner, Charles put on the female attire, which had been provided for him by the ladies. It was coarse and homely, and consisted of a flowered linen gown, a light-coloured quilted petticoat, a white apron, and a mantle of dun camlet made after the Irish fashion, with a hood. Whilst Charles was putting on this extraordinary dress, several jokes were passed on the singularity of the prince’s appearance. The ladies and Neil Mac Eachan returned to Ormaclade, and in the evening again met Charles and his companion on the sea-shore, at a mile’s distance from that house. They sat down to supper on the sea-side; but before they had finished, a messenger arrived with information that General Campbell and Captain Ferguson had arrived at Ormaclade with a large party of soldiers and marines, in quest of Charles. Lady Clanranald went immediately home, and, on reaching her house, was interrogated very strictly by these officers as to the cause of her absence; but she excused herself by saying that she had been visiting a sick child.[1251]

After the departure of Lady Clanranald, Charles and his protectress went down to the beach, where their boat lay afloat, so as to be in readiness to embark in case the military should appear. They kindled a fire upon a rock; but they had scarcely warmed themselves, when they were thrown into a state of alarm by the appearance of four boats full of armed men, apparently making towards the shore. They instantly extinguished their fire, and concealed themselves behind some rocks. Fortunately they were not observed by the boats, which, instead of coming to land, sailed along the shore, within a gun-shot of the spot where Charles lay concealed. Judging it unwise to put to sea during the day, Charles deferred his voyage till the evening, and accordingly embarked, at eight o’clock on the 28th of June, for Skye, accompanied by Miss Macdonald and Neil Mac Eachan. The prince was extremely sorry to part with O’Neil, his only remaining companion, and entreated Miss Macdonald to allow him to accompany them; but, as she had only three passports, she absolutely refused to accede to the request.[1252]

When Charles left the shores of Benbecula the evening was clear and serene, and a gentle and favourable breeze rippled over the bosom of the deep; but as they proceeded to sea the sky began to lower, and they had not rowed above a league when the wind rose, the sea became rough, and a tempest ensued which seemed to threaten them with destruction. Miss Macdonald and the boatmen grew alarmed, but Charles showed the greatest composure, and, to revive their drooping spirits, alternately related some amusing stories and sang several songs, among which was an old spirited air composed on the occasion of the restoration of Charles II. In the passage Miss Macdonald fell asleep, and Charles took every precaution to prevent her being disturbed.

The wind having shifted several times during the night, the boatmen had not been able to keep a regular course, and when day-light appeared next morning, they found themselves out of sight of land without knowing where they were. Having no compass, they proceeded at random; but they had not sailed far when they perceived some of the headlands of Skye. Favoured by the wind, they soon gained the point of Waternish, on the west of the island. In passing along this point they were fired upon by a party of Macleod militia, who called upon them to land; but they continued their course, and, to prevent suspicion, plied their oars very slowly. Charles told the boatmen “not to fear the villains;” but they assured him that they did not care for themselves: their only fear was for him. “No fear of me!” was Charles’s reply. Encouraged by the undaunted bravery of the prince, the boat’s crew applied themselves with energy to their oars; on observing which the Macleods continued to fire at the boat till it got out of reach of their shot, but did no harm. Whilst the bullets were falling about the boat, Charles, it is said, requested Miss Macdonald to lie down in the bottom of the boat in order to avoid them; but she heroically declined the proposal, and declared that, as she was endeavouring to preserve the life of her prince, she would never degrade herself by attending to the safety of her own person while that of her master was in jeopardy. She even solicited Charles to occupy the place he had assigned for her. The prince, as the danger increased, became more urgent; but no entreaties could prevail upon Miss Macdonald to abandon her intrepid resolution, till Charles offered to lie down also. Both accordingly lay down in the bottom of the boat, till out of reach of the bullets of the militia.

After escaping this danger they entered a small creek, and the party, after taking a short rest, proceeded to Kilbride, and landed near Mugstot or Moydhstat, the seat of Sir Alexander Macdonald, near the northern extremity of Skye. Sir Alexander was at this time with the Duke of Cumberland at Fort Augustus; and, as his lady was known to be a warm friend of the prince, Flora resolved to proceed to Moydhstat and acquaint her of Charles’s arrival. Lady Margaret Macdonald had inherited the spirit of Jacobitism from her father Alexander, Earl of Eglintoun; and, as she knew that her husband was a Jacobite at heart, she was less scrupulous to assist the prince in his necessities. Knowing her good intentions, Charles had, about a week before his arrival in Skye, written her a letter, which was sent inclosed in one from Hugh Macdonald of Balishair, in North Uist, to his brother Donald Roy Macdonald, who was requested to deliver the letter into her ladyship’s own hand. Balishair announced in the letter to his brother, that, as a very strict search was making in the Long island for Charles, he intended to seek refuge upon a small grass island, called Fladdachuan, belonging to Sir Alexander Macdonald, lying to the north of Trotternish, with only one tenant upon it, and requesting him to keep a sharp look-out for the prince, to meet him upon Fladdachuan and provide him with necessaries. He was desired to show the letter to Lady Margaret, and after she had perused it to throw it into the fire; and he also requested that her ladyship should do the same with the letter sent her. The letter was accordingly delivered to Lady Margaret by Donald Roy, who burnt his own, as directed; but, on begging Lady Margaret to put hers into the fire, she rose up, and, kissing the letter, exclaimed, “No! I will not burn it. I will preserve it for the sake of him who wrote it to me. Although King George’s forces should come to the house, I hope I shall find a way to secure the letter.”[1253]

Leaving Charles in the boat, Miss Flora, accompanied by Neil Mac Eachan, set out for Mugstot, to apprise Lady Margaret of her arrival. It was a fortunate circumstance that Charles was left behind, as there was a militia officer of the name of Macleod in the house, who, on Miss Macdonald’s entering the room where he was sitting, questioned her very closely as to her journey; but she answered his interrogatories so readily, and with such apparent candour and simplicity, that he had not the least suspicion that she was any way concerned about the prince. Charles’s arrival was not altogether unexpected, as she had been informed the day before by Mrs. Macdonald, wife of John Macdonald of Kirkebost, in North Uist, who had come from the Long island, of the probability of his appearing speedily in Skye. Lady Margaret, on being informed of the prince’s arrival in her neighbourhood, was greatly alarmed for his safety. Her active benevolence was ever seconded by superior talents; and, on the present occasion, she displayed a presence of mind and readiness of invention, which corresponded with these high qualifications. Mr. Macdonald of Kingsburgh, Sir Alexander’s factor, being then in the house, she resolved to consult him in this emergency. Desirous also to avail herself of the services of Captain Roy Macdonald, who had visited Fladdachuan in quest of the prince, she sent an express to Trotternish, where he then resided, requesting his immediate attendance at Mugstot. Mounting his horse, he repaired to the spot, and found Lady Margaret and Kingsburgh walking together, in serious conversation. On dismounting, Lady Margaret came up to him and exclaimed, “O Donald Roy, we are ruined for ever!” After a long consultation, Lady Margaret proposed that, as the prince could not remain long in Skye without being discovered, he should be conducted to old Raasay, who was himself concealed with some select friends, and that, in the mean time, he should take up his residence in Kingsburgh house.

During the time this consultation lasted, Charles remained upon the shore, at a short distance from the foot of the garden. Kingsburgh proposed to go and acquaint him with their determination; but, lest he might be observed by some of the military about the house, Neil Mac Eachan was sent to inform him that Kingsburgh meant to visit him, and to request that he would retire behind a neighbouring hill to escape observation. Taking with him some wine and provisions, Kingsburgh repaired to the spot where Mac Eachan had left Charles. To his great surprise, however, Charles was not to be seen, and he in vain searched for him in the neighbourhood of the place where he expected to meet him. Despairing of finding the prince, Kingsburgh would have returned to Mugstot; but the bounding of a flock of sheep at a distance, indicating that some person was at hand, Kingsburgh went forward to the place whence the sheep had fled, where he found the prince sitting on the ground. Charles started up when he saw Kingsburgh approaching. He advanced cautiously towards him, holding a large knotted stick in his hand, as if intending to knock down the stranger. “I am Macdonald of Kingsburgh, come to serve your highness,” said the good Highlander, as he approached. “It is well,” answered Charles, who went forward to receive his friend. They then saluted each other, and the prince took some refreshment. Kingsburgh then mentioned Lady Macdonald’s plan, with which Charles having expressed himself satisfied, they both proceeded to Kingsburgh house.

Till the departure of Kingsburgh to meet Charles, the uneasiness of Lady Macdonald was extreme. Flora too, who had remarked her anxiety, had her misgivings lest the prince should be discovered; but with her wonted firmness she kept up the conversation with the commander of the detachment, till dinner was announced, by which time Charles was on his way to Kingsburgh. After dinner, Miss Macdonald rose to depart; but Lady Macdonald, in order to deceive the officer, pressed her to remain, and put her in mind that she had promised on a former occasion to make some stay the first time she should visit Moydhstat. Flora, however, excused herself, on the ground that she was anxious to be with her mother, who, in the absence of her husband, could not but feel uneasy in such troublesome times. With apparent reluctance Lady Margaret at length accepted her apology, under the condition that she should make amends for her sudden departure by making a longer stay at Moydhstat on her next visit.

Miss Macdonald accordingly proceeded on her journey, accompanied by Neil Mac Eachan, and by Mrs. Macdonald, the lady formerly mentioned, who was attended by a male and female servant. The whole party, who were on horseback, soon overtook the prince and Kingsburgh, who had gone so far by the common road. Mrs. Macdonald, who had never seen the prince before, was desirous of obtaining a view of his countenance, and made several attempts to look him in the face, but Charles always turned his head aside to avoid her gaze. Mrs. Macdonald’s maid observing this, and being struck with the uncouth appearance of the prince, remarked to Miss Flora, that she had never before seen such an impudent looking woman as the one with whom Kingsburgh was walking, and stated her impression, that the singular looking stranger was either an Irishwoman, or a man in woman’s clothes. Miss Macdonald informed the girl that she was quite right in her conjecture that the extraordinary looking female was an Irishwoman, for she knew her, having seen her before. The maid then exclaimed, “Bless me, what long strides the jade takes, and how awkwardly she manages her petticoats!” To put an end to the prying curiosity of Mrs. Macdonald’s maid, and to prevent the servants of that lady from observing the route which the prince and Kingsburgh were about to take across the hills, Miss Macdonald called upon the party to ride faster, as they had a long way to travel. They accordingly set off at the trot, and, when the party were out of sight, the two pedestrians, to avoid the militia, who were on all the public roads, went off by an unfrequented path, and arrived at Kingsburgh house about eleven o’clock at night, where they were almost immediately joined by Miss Macdonald and Neil Mac Eachan.

Not expecting her husband home at such a late hour, Mrs. Macdonald had undressed, and was just going into bed, when one of her maid servants entered her bed-room, and informed her that Kingsburgh had arrived, and had brought company with him, and that Miss Flora Macdonald was among the guests. Mrs. Macdonald sent down word to Flora, that being sleepy and undressed she hoped she would excuse her for not coming down stairs, but begged that she would use her freedom, and help herself to anything she might require. Immediately upon the departure of the servant down stairs, a young girl, a daughter of Kingsburgh, entered her mother’s apartment in a great hurry, and, with looks of surprise, informed her, that her father had brought to the house the most “odd muckle ill-shaken-up wife she had ever seen, and taken her into the hall too!” Before Mrs. Macdonald had time to form any conjecture on the subject, Kingsburgh himself entered his wife’s bed-chamber, and desired her to dress herself as fast as she could, and get some supper ready for his guests. Mrs. Macdonald asked the names of her visitors, but Kingsburgh said he had no time for explanation; and after telling her that she would know the whole matter in time, and urging her to make haste, he returned to his friends in the hall.

In compliance with her husband’s desire, Mrs. Macdonald proceeded to dress herself, and sent her daughter down for her keys, which she had left in the hall. The girl went, but she returned almost instantly in a state of alarm, and told her mother that she was afraid to venture into the hall, as the tall woman was walking up and down in it. Mrs. Macdonald then went down herself; but on observing the prince striding through the hall she hesitated to enter, and calling to her husband requested him to go in and bring her the keys. Kingsburgh, however, refused to humour the pusillanimity of his wife, and she was at length obliged to enter.

When Mrs. Macdonald entered the hall, Charles, who, during the altercation between her and her husband, had taken a seat, rose up, and advancing, immediately saluted her agreeably to the Highland practice. Mrs. Macdonald, little expecting the roughness of a male chin under a female attire, began to tremble, and, without saying a word to the silent and mysterious being who stood before her, she hastened out of the hall, and going to her husband importuned him to inform her who the stranger was. She had not the least idea that the person who saluted her was the prince; and, imagining that the stranger was some nobleman or gentleman in disguise, she inquired if he knew what had become of the prince. Smiling at her simplicity, Kingsburgh said to her, “My dear, the person in the hall is the prince himself.” Alarmed at this unexpected announcement, she exclaimed, “The prince! then we are all ruined: we will all be hanged now!” “Hout,” replied Kingsburgh, “we can die but once; and if we are hanged for this we shall die in a good cause, doing only an act of humanity and charity. But go,” continued he, “make haste with supper; bring us eggs, butter, cheese, and whatever else can be got quickly ready.” “Eggs, butter, and cheese!” rejoined Mrs. Macdonald, “what a supper is that for a prince!” “Oh! wife,” replied Kingsburgh, “you know little how this good prince has lived of late; this will be a feast to him. Besides, to make a formal supper would make the servants suspect something; the less ceremony, therefore, the better; make haste, and come to supper yourself.” Mrs. Macdonald, doubtful of her own capabilities to conduct herself properly before royalty, exclaimed, “_I_ come to supper! I know not how to behave before Majesty!” “You must come,” replied Kingsburgh, “the prince will not eat one bit without you; and you will find it no difficult matter to behave before him, so obliging and easy is he in his conversation.”[1254]

At supper Charles placed Miss Flora on his right hand, and Mrs. Macdonald on his left. He always conferred the above mark of distinction on his young protectress, and whenever she came into any room where he was sitting, he always rose up on her entry. Charles made a hearty supper, and drank a bumper of brandy to the health and prosperity of Kingsburgh and his wife. After supper he smoked a pipe, a practice which he was obliged to adopt in his wanderings, to mitigate a toothache with which he was troubled.[1255] Having drunk a few glasses of wine, and finished his pipe, Charles went to bed.

After Charles went to bed, Miss Flora, at the desire of Mrs. Macdonald, gave her a relation of the prince’s adventures, in as far as she had been personally concerned. When she finished her recital, Mrs. Macdonald asked her what had become of the boatmen who brought the prince and her to Skye. Miss Macdonald answered, that they had been sent directly back to South Uist. Mrs. Macdonald observed that it was wrong to have sent the boat back immediately, as in case of capture on their return, the boatmen might disclose the business which brought them to Skye, and the prince’s pursuers might in consequence overtake him before he could leave that island. Mrs. Macdonald was right in her conjecture; for the boatmen were seized on their return to South Uist, and being threatened with torture, and ultimately with death, revealed all they knew, giving even a minute description of the prince’s dress. To lessen the dangers of a discovery of the prince’s route, Flora advised the prince to change his clothes next day, a proposal which met with his cordial approbation, as he found the female attire very cumbrous.

The luxury of a good bed had not been enjoyed by Charles for many weeks. Three, or at most four, hours’ sleep was all he had generally been accustomed to during his wanderings; but, on the present occasion he slept ten hours without interruption, and might have added a few more to the number, had he not been wakened by Kingsburgh, who was prevailed upon by Miss Macdonald, contrary to his own inclination, to rouse the prince. In talking of Charles’s intended departure, Kingsburgh, acting upon Flora’s suggestion, urged upon the prince the propriety of changing his dress, lest the circumstance of his being in female attire might transpire, and Kingsburgh offered him a Highland dress of his own. Charles at once assented to the proposal; but, to prevent suspicion among the servants, and to keep them in ignorance of the nature and description of the new dress in which Charles was to travel, it was arranged that he should leave the house in the same dress he entered it, and, when out of reach of observation, assume that offered to him by his kind entertainer.

Having dressed himself, the ladies went into his chamber to pin his cap, put on his apron, and adjust the other parts of his dress. Before Miss Macdonald put on the cap, Mrs. Macdonald requested her, in Gaelic, to ask Charles for a lock of his hair. Flora declined, desiring her, at the same time, to make the application herself to his Royal Highness. The prince, though unable to comprehend what they were saying, clearly perceived that they were disputing about something, and, desiring to know the subject of altercation, was informed thereof by Mrs. Macdonald. Charles then told her that her request was granted, and laying down his head upon Flora’s lap, he desired her to cut off a lock. She complied, and divided the destined relic between them. Before leaving the house Kingsburgh thought there was an article of dress that Charles might instantly change without much risk. This was his shoes, which were so much worn that his toes protruded through them. He, therefore, presented a new pair of his own to his Royal Highness, and, taking up the out-worn brogues, said to Charles, “I will faithfully keep them till you are safely in St. James’s; I will introduce myself by shaking them at you, to put you in mind of your night’s entertainment and protection under my roof.” The prince, amused with the quaintness of the idea, could not refrain from smiling, and, to humour the joke, enjoined his host to keep his promise. Kingsburgh kept the shoes as long as he lived, and after his death they were purchased by a zealous Jacobite gentleman, who gave twenty guineas for them.[1256]

On being dressed, the prince partook of breakfast, and having taken a kind leave of Mrs. Macdonald, left Kingsburgh house for Portree, where it had been concerted he should embark for the island of Raasay. He was accompanied by Miss Flora and Kingsburgh, who carried under his arm the suit of clothes designed for the prince. When Charles left the house, Mrs. Macdonald went up stairs to the room in which he had slept, and, folding the sheets in which he had lain, put them carefully aside, declaring that henceforth they should never again be washed or used till her death, when they should serve her as a winding sheet; to which use they were accordingly applied, in fulfilment of injunctions she delivered before her death.[1257] After walking a short distance from the house, Charles and Kingsburgh entered a wood, where the prince threw off his female attire, and put on the clothes which his good friend had provided. These consisted of a tartan short coat and waistcoat, with philibeg and short hose, a plaid, and a wig and bonnet. When Charles had shifted, he embraced Kingsburgh, and thanked him for his valuable services, which he assured him he would never forget. Charles, conducted by a guide, then set out on foot across the hills, and Miss Macdonald took another and a shorter way on horseback, to obtain intelligence, and prevent a discovery.

In consequence of the resolution to proceed to Raasay, Donald Roy had been despatched from Mugstot by Kingsburgh the preceding day, in quest of John Macleod, the young laird of Raasay, to ascertain from him the place of his father’s concealment, in order to communicate to the latter Charles’s design of placing himself under his protection. When it is considered, that Macleod, the laird of Raasay, was himself a fugitive for the part he had taken in the insurrection, such a design may appear singular; but the prince had only a choice of difficulties before him, and the little island of Raasay, which was then clear of troops, appeared to offer the securest retreat. Donald Roy met young Raasay at Portree, who informed him that his father was skulking in Knoydart; but offered to send an express for him, being certain his father would run any risk to serve the prince in his distress. Donald Roy then proposed that he should conduct Charles to the mainland, to the place where old Raasay was; but young Raasay said that such a step would be too dangerous at that time, and that it would be better to conceal the prince in the isle of Raasay till his father should be informed of Charles’s intention to put himself under his protection. As they could not trust a Portree crew, the difficulty of transporting the prince to Raasay, without observation, occurred. Dr. Murdoch Macleod, a brother of young Raasay, who had been wounded at the battle of Culloden, being informed of this dilemma, said he would risk his life once more for the prince, and it having occurred to him that there was a little boat upon a fresh water lake in the neighbourhood, the two brothers, with the aid of some women, by extraordinary exertions, brought the boat to sea, over a Highland mile of land, one half of which was bog, and the other a steep precipice. The two brothers, with the assistance of a little boy, rowed the boat, which was very old and leaky, to Raasay.

Malcolm Macleod, young Raasay’s cousin, who will be frequently mentioned in the sequel, was then in the island. He had been a captain in the prince’s service, and was considered by his cousin a proper person to accompany them on their expedition. They accordingly waited on Malcolm, who offered to provide a boat; but he proposed, that as his cousin, young Raasay, had not been engaged in the insurrection, he should not run any risk by holding communication with the prince, more particularly as Charles could be brought over without his assistance. Young Raasay declared his resolution to see the prince, if the result should be the loss both of his estate and his head; and Malcolm, seeing that any farther attempt to dissuade him would be fruitless, exclaimed, “In God’s name then let us proceed.” Malcolm Macleod pitched upon two strong men, named John Mackenzie and Donald Macfriar, to row the boat; but, when they came to the beach, they declined to leave the shore till informed of their destination. They were then sworn to secrecy, and being told the object of their voyage, professed the utmost alacrity to go to sea. The whole party accordingly set off from Raasay on Monday evening, the 30th of June, and landed about half a mile from Portree. By this time Miss Macdonald had arrived at the inn, where Donald Roy was in waiting to receive her and the prince. Leaving young Raasay and his brother in the boat, Malcolm Macleod, accompanied by Macfriar, went towards the inn, and in walking from the shore he observed three persons proceeding in the direction of the inn, who happened to be the prince, Neil Mac Eachan, and a little boy who had served as Charles’s guide from Kingsburgh.

Donald Roy Macdonald had left the inn shortly after Miss Macdonald’s arrival, for the purpose of meeting Charles; but, after remaining out about twenty minutes without seeing him, he returned to the house, afraid lest the rain, which fell in torrents, might fester a wound in his foot which he had received at the battle of Culloden, and which was still open. He had scarcely entered the inn, when Macnab, the landlord, informed him that a boy wanted to see him. The boy, whose name was Macqueen, having informed Donald Roy that a gentleman who was waiting a little above the house wished to speak with him, he went out and met the prince, who caught him in his arms. Donald then conducted him into the inn. Charles was wet to the skin, and the water poured down from his clothes. The first thing he asked for was a dram, on taking which he proceeded to shift himself. He put on a dry shirt; but before he had replaced the other habiliments which he had thrown off, a supply of roasted fish, bread, cheese, and butter was brought into the room, which the prince attacked with such avidity that Donald Roy could not help smiling; and being observed by the prince, he remarked that he believed the prince was following the English fashion. “What fashion do you mean?” said the prince. “Why,” replied Donald Roy, “they say the English, when they are to eat heartily, throw off their clothes.” The prince smiling, said, “They are in the right, lest anything should incommode their hands when they are at work.” Asking for some drink, Charles was told that there were no liquids of any sort in the house but whisky and water, not even milk, of which he had desired a little. The only substitute in the room for a tumbler or jug was a dirty-looking bucket, which the landlord used for throwing the water out of his boat, and the mouth of which was broken and rough from the frequent use to which it had been thus applied. Donald Roy, who had previously quaffed out of the bucket, handed it to Charles, who took it out of his hand, and after looking at it, stared Donald in the face. As the landlord was in the room, Donald was afraid that, from the shyness of Charles to drink out of a dish to which no objection perhaps had ever before been stated, he might think he had a visitor of distinction in his house, and he therefore went up to Charles, and in a gentle whisper desired him to drink out of the obnoxious vessel without ceremony. Charles taking the hint, put the pail to his head, and took a hearty draught of water.[1258]

Malcolm Macleod, on being informed of the prince’s arrival at the inn, had returned to the boat, and with his cousins waited anxiously for the prince. On the landlord of the inn leaving the room, Donald Roy, who had grown impatient to get away, urged the prince to depart; but Charles showed no inclination to leave the inn, and even proposed to remain there all night, as the rain was still heavy. Donald told him that as the house he was in was frequented by all kinds of people, he would incur danger by remaining; for the very appearance of a stranger would excite speculation among the country people, who were always desirous to know who the persons were that came among them. Charles assented to the correctness of Donald’s observations, but called for some tobacco that he might smoke a pipe before his departure. There being no tobacco in the house but roll or pigtail, Charles said it would answer very well; and the landlord, at the request of Donald Roy, brought in a quarter of a pound in the scales in which it had been weighed. The price was fourpence halfpenny, and Charles gave the landlord a sixpence. Donald Roy desired him to bring in the difference. The prince smiled, and on the change being brought he refused to receive it. Donald, however, insisted that he should take the three halfpence, because he considered that in his present situation he might find “bawbees” very useful.[1259]

When about to leave the inn, Charles solicited Donald Roy to accompany him to Raasay, observing that he had always found himself safe in the hands of the Macdonalds, and that as long as he had a Macdonald with him he would still think himself safe. This faithful attendant, whilst he stated his inclination to serve the prince in his distress, represented to him the impossibility of following him from place to place, in consequence of the wound in his left foot, which rendered him incapable of enduring fatigue; and that as he would be obliged from his lameness to travel occasionally on horseback, his presence would only endanger the safety of the prince. He agreed, however, to meet Charles in Raasay in a few days, and stated that, in the mean time, he would remain in Skye, and collect for the future guidance of the prince such information as he could, in relation to the movements and plans of his pursuers.

Before leaving Portree Charles had a most painful task to perform, that of parting with the amiable and high-minded young woman, who, during three eventful days, had with generous sympathy, and at the imminent hazard of her own life, watched over him with the tenderest solicitude and affection, and rescued him from the many perils with which he had been environed. He repaid Miss Flora a small sum of money he had borrowed from her, and, presenting her with his own portrait in miniature, saluted her. He then returned her his sincere thanks for the great assistance she had afforded him, and taking leave, expressed a hope that, notwithstanding the present unfavourable aspect of his affairs, he should yet meet her in St. James’s. He also took farewell of Neil Mac Eachan, who certainly at that time had no expectation that he was to be one of those who were afterwards to accompany the prince to France.

Charles had brought along with him from Kingsburgh, four shirts, a cold fowl, some sugar, and a bottle of brandy. To this small stock he added at Portree a bottle of usquebaugh. He tied this bottle to his belt at one side, and at the other the bottle of brandy, and the shirts and cold fowl which were put up in a handkerchief. Thus provided, Charles left the inn, accompanied by Donald Roy, on the morning of the 1st of July, while it was yet dark. The landlord, surprised perhaps at the early departure of his guests, cast a look after them as they went out at the door, which being observed by Charles’s conductor, he led the prince off in a direction opposite to that they had to go, till out of view of the landlord, and then making a circle they went down towards the shore, and in their way met Malcolm Macleod, who conducted the prince to the boat. He then took leave of Donald Roy, whom he enjoined not to mention the place of his destination to any person, not even to his fair protectress. Donald returned to the inn, and was immediately accosted by his host, who expressed a strong desire to know the name of the gentleman who had left his house. Donald told him, with apparent unconcern, that the stranger who had gone away was Sir John Macdonald, an Irish gentleman, and a brother rebel, who, having got free of his enemies, had been skulking among his friends, the Macdonalds of Skye; and that, tired of remaining in one place, and afraid of being discovered in the island, he had set out for the mainland to seek an asylum among the other Macdonalds. The landlord, whom he enjoined to secrecy, apparently satisfied with this explanation, said that he was strongly impressed with an idea that the gentleman was the prince in disguise, as he observed something about him that looked very noble.[1260]

Portree, a small bay opposite the island of Raasay, from which Charles was about to depart, had derived its name, which signifies the King’s Port, from the circumstance of King James the Fifth having landed there during his excursion amongst the western islands. Charles left this creek after midnight, under the protection of the enthusiastic young laird of Raasay, to whom Malcolm Macleod introduced him when he entered the boat. As the two boatmen had served in the prince’s army, the whole party, with the exception of young Raasay himself, were under the ban of the government, and the young laird, whose only motive in not joining the insurrection was probably a desire to save the estate, now fearlessly put his life and fortune in jeopardy, when the risk was even greater.

Charles slept a little upon the passage, and reached Raasay about day-break, a few hours after his departure from Portree. The party landed at a place called Glam, about the distance of ten miles from that haven. Charles, Malcolm, and Murdoch Macleod took up their abode in a wretched hut which some shepherds had lately erected. They had no bedding of any sort, and were obliged to repose upon some heath. On entering the hut they kindled a fire and partook of some provisions. On this, as on other occasions, Charles, to please the Highlanders, never tasted wheat-bread or brandy while oat-bread and whisky lasted, for, he observed, that these last were his “own country bread and drink.” Young Raasay had nothing to dread from his own people; and, lest the military might revisit the island, he placed the two boatmen upon different eminences to watch their approach. He visited Charles and his friends occasionally, and always carried provisions along with him. Though comparatively secure, Charles was very uneasy in his new retreat; and frequent starts and exclamations in his slumbers indicated the agitated workings of his mind. Malcolm Macleod often overheard him in his sleep muttering imperfect sentences, in Italian, French, and English. One of his expressions in English was, “O God! poor Scotland!”[1261]

During Charles’s stay in Raasay, no person visited the island, but he and his friends were kept in a state of uneasiness by a person who prowled about without any apparent business, and who had come into the island to sell a roll of tobacco. He had arrived about twelve or fourteen days before Charles. Having disposed of his merchandise very speedily, it was expected that he would have departed, but continuing to stroll up and down the island in an idle way, he was suspected to be a spy. Malcolm Macleod happening to see him approaching the hut one day, a council of war was held by Charles and his friends. The three Macleods were for putting the poor tobacco vender to death, and Malcolm Macleod offered to go out immediately and shoot him through the head; but Charles indignantly reprobated the inhuman proposal. “God forbid (said he) that we should take away a man’s life who may be innocent, while we can preserve our own.” John Mackenzie, who sat as sentinel at the door, overhearing the debate, said to himself in Gaelic, “Well, well: he must be shot: you are the king, but we are the parliament, and will do what we choose.” Observing his friends smile, Charles asked what John had said; and being told the man’s observation in English, the prince observed that he was a clever fellow; and, notwithstanding his perilous situation, laughed loud and heartily.[1262] Notwithstanding Charles’s remonstrances, the stranger would have been despatched had he entered the hut, but luckily he walked past without looking into it. It was afterwards ascertained that the stranger himself was a fugitive from the Highland army.[1263] While Charles resided in this hut, he and his companions indulged in a great deal of conversation. Alluding to passing events and his present situation, the prince observed that his life was to be sure a very hard one; but that he would rather live in the way he then did for ten years, than fall into the hands of his enemies, not because he believed they would dare to take away his life publicly, but because he dreaded being poisoned or assassinated. He was very particular in his inquiries at Dr. Macleod about the wound he had received at Culloden, from a ball which entered at one shoulder and went across to the other. He threw out some reflections upon the conduct of some of his officers at Culloden, but confessed that perhaps it was rash in him to do so. Talking of the different Highland corps, the Macleods asked Charles which, in his opinion, were the best soldiers; but he evaded a direct answer, said he did not like comparisons among such corps; and that they were all best.[1264]

Charles resided two days in Raasay, when becoming uneasy, and thinking the island too narrow and confined for the purpose of concealment, he resolved to depart. Understanding that he expected a French ship at Lochbroom, Malcolm Macleod offered to carry him thither, but Charles declined the proposal on account of the danger of the voyage in a small boat. He expressed a wish to go to Trotternish in Skye, but his friends attempted to dissuade him, as they considered him safer in Raasay. Persisting however in going, the whole party, including the two boatmen, left Raasay on the evening of the 2d of July, in the same boat which they had used to carry them into the island. After they had gone a little off the shore the wind began to blow hard, and soon increased to a gale. The sea became so very rough, that the waves broke over the boat and almost filled it with water. All on board begged the prince to return, but he declined, observing, that as Providence had carried him through so many dangers, he did not doubt of the same care now as before. About eleven o’clock at night they landed at a place in Skye, called Nicolson’s rock, near Scorobreck in Trotternish, after a very boisterous voyage of about fifteen miles. There was a large surf on the shore, and there being no convenient landing place, they had to jump out among the water. Charles was the third man who leapt into the sea. Standing in the surf, the whole party, including Charles, laid hold of the boat and drew it up on dry ground.

On this desolate coast, the royal wanderer could find no other resting-place than a cow-house, belonging to Mr. Nicolson of Scorobreck, about two miles from that gentleman’s seat. The party entered this wretched hovel and took a little refreshment of oat cakes, which had mouldered down into very small crumbs, and some cheese. Charles being wet to the skin, Malcolm Macleod advised him to put on a dry shirt. This he declined, and continued to sit in his wet clothes. Overcome with fatigue he fell asleep; but he enjoyed little sound repose. He would frequently start in his sleep, look briskly up, and stare boldly around him, as if about to fight the persons around him. “Oh poor England! poor England!” were the exclamations he would sometimes utter, with a deep sigh, during these disturbed moments.

In all his wanderings it was the constant practice of Charles to conceal his future movements from every person with whose services he was about to dispense, so as to prevent any clue to his discovery. Wishing to get quit of young Raasay and his brother, he despatched the former to look out for Donald Roy, and he desired the latter to go to a place called Cammistinawag, where he would meet him. Murdoch Macleod and the two boatmen then took leave. At parting he presented Murdoch with a case, containing a silver spoon, knife, and fork, which he requested him to keep till they met.

The prince and Malcolm Macleod remained in the hut till seven o’clock in the morning, when Charles, taking the little baggage in his hand, walked out, and desired Malcolm to follow him. Macleod took the bundle out of Charles’s hand, and followed him in silence till out of sight of the cow-house, when Charles taking a direction Malcolm did not like, this faithful adherent went up to him and asked him where he was going, as he was afraid that he might fall into the hands of one of the numerous military parties, who were dispersed over the island. “Why, Macleod, (replied Charles,) I now throw myself entirely into your hands, and leave you to do with me what you please; only I want to go to Strath, Mackinnon’s country. I hope you will accompany me, if you think you can lead me safe enough into Strath.” Malcolm declared that he would go with his royal highness wherever he pleased, and offered to bring him safe into that part of Skye which belonged to the chief of Mackinnon, provided he would consent to go by sea; but Macleod objected to a journey over land which he considered would be attended with dangers from the soldiers. Charles, however, insisted on going by land, and observed that they could now do nothing without danger. The better to prevent a discovery, Charles proposed that he should act the part of Macleod’s servant, and that he should assume the name of Lewis Caw, there being at the time a young surgeon of that name, who had been in the prince’s service, skulking in Skye, where he had some relations. Observing that his scarlet tartan waistcoat with gold twist buttons, was finer than that worn by Macleod, which was of plain ordinary tartan, Charles exchanged it for Macleod’s. Then taking the bag which contained his linen out of Malcolm’s hands, Charles threw it over his shoulder, and set out on his perilous journey, preceded by the faithful Malcolm, who, to complete the deception, had proposed that Charles should keep up his new character of a gilly, or footman, by walking in the rear.

Strath, the country of the Mackinnons, was at a considerable distance, and the route to it which these two travellers took lay through one of the wildest and most mountainous districts of the island. Though a good pedestrian, Malcolm could scarcely keep his distance ahead of Charles, whose locomotive powers were surprising, there being few persons who could match him at walking. Alluding to his celerity of foot, he told Malcolm that provided he got out of musket-shot, he had no dread of a pursuit by English soldiers, but he had not the same confidence if chased by a party of Highland militia. He asked Malcolm what they would do in the event of meeting any person among the mountains, who might attempt to kill or take them. “That depends upon their numbers,” replied Malcolm; “if there should be no more than four of them, I’ll engage to manage two.” “And I,” rejoined Charles, “will engage to manage the other two.” Malcolm, in his turn, asked Charles what they should do if attacked by a party of English soldiers, “Fight, to be sure,” was the reply.

As Malcolm expected that they would fall in with some of the country people before they came to the end of their journey, by whom, from his being well known in the island, he might be recognised, he desired Charles not to evince any anxiety when he (Malcolm) should speak to them, but remove to a short distance and sit down till the conversation ended. They met a few of these people from time to time, on which occasion Charles not only observed the injunction of Malcolm, but superadded the customary menial duty, of touching his bonnet when addressed by his supposed master. With the exception of a bottle of brandy, the two travellers appear to have had no other sustenance during their long and fatiguing journey. When reduced to a single glass, Charles urged Malcolm to take it, lest he should faint with the excessive fatigue. Malcolm refused, and insisted that the prince himself should drink it, but Charles resolutely refused, and compelled Malcolm to drain the bottle. Malcolm then hid the bottle in a thick bush of heath, where he found it about three years thereafter. Honest Macleod long preserved it “as a curious piece,” which he expected would one day make a figure in Westminster.[1265]

When opportunity offered, the prince and Malcolm relieved the tediousness of the journey, by conversing on a variety of topics. The conversation happening to turn upon Lord George Murray, Charles observed that his lordship, whether from ignorance or with a view to betray him, he would not say, misconducted himself in not obeying orders, and that in particular, for two or three days before the battle of Culloden, Lord George scarcely did anything he desired him to do. When Malcolm told him of the many atrocities committed after that battle, he appeared amazed, and said, “Surely that man who calls himself the duke, and pretends to be so great a general, cannot be guilty of such cruelties. I cannot believe it.” Talking of the fatigues he was obliged to undergo, the prince said, “Do you not think, Macleod, that God Almighty has made this person of mine for doing some good yet? When I was in Italy, and dining at the king’s (his father’s) table, very often the sweat would have been coming through my coat with the heat of the climate, and now that I am in a cold country, where the climate is more trying, and exposed to different kinds of fatigues, I really find I agree equally with both. I have had (pointing to his kilt) this philibeg on now for some days, and I find I do as well with it as any of the best breeches I ever put on. I hope in God, Macleod, to walk the streets of London with it yet.”[1266] A man holding such sentiments as these was not likely to be easily discouraged.

When approaching Mackinnon’s bounds, Malcolm stated to the prince his apprehensions, that, disguised as he was, he was afraid he would still be recognised by some of Mackinnon’s people, who had been out in his service. He, therefore, suggested that Charles should disguise himself still further. The prince then proposed to blacken his face with powder; but Macleod objected to this plan, which, he said, would tend rather to discover than to conceal him. “Then,” observed Charles, “I must be put into the greatest dishabille possible;” and pulling off his wig, and putting it into his pocket, took out a dirty white napkin, which Malcolm, at his desire, tied about his head close to his eyebrows. He then put off his bonnet, tore the ruffles from his shirt, and took the buckles out of his shoes, and made Macleod fasten them with strings. Charles now asked his friend if he thought he would still be recognised, and on Malcolm answering that he thought he would, Charles said, “I have so odd a face, that no man that ever saw me once but would know me again.” In Malcolm’s opinion, Charles, though almost a Proteus, could never disguise his majestic mien and carriage; and he declared that there was not a person who knew what the air of a noble or great man was, that would not, upon seeing the prince, however disguised he might be, at once perceive something about him that was not ordinary,--something of the stately and grand.[1267]

They had not gone far after this conversation, when Malcolm Macleod’s opinion was verified, for no sooner had the travellers entered Strath, than Charles was recognised by two men of Mackinnon’s clan, who had been out in the insurrection. They stared at the prince for a little, and on discovering him, lifted up their hands and wept bitterly. Malcolm begged that they would compose themselves, lest by showing so much concern they might discover the prince. After cautioning them not to mention the meeting to any one, he swore them to secrecy upon his naked dirk, and then dismissed them. They kept their word.

Being within two miles of the laird of Mackinnon’s house, Malcolm asked him if he wished to see the old chief; “No,” said Charles, “by no means. I know Mackinnon to be as good and as honest a man as any in the world; but he is not fit for my purpose at present. You must conduct me to some other house, but let it be a gentleman’s house.” They then proceeded, at Malcolm’s suggestion, to a place called Ellagol, or rather Ellighiul, near Kilvory or Kilmaree, where they arrived in the morning after a journey of twenty-four Highland miles, being upwards of thirty English miles. At Ellagol there lived one John Mackinnon, who had served as captain under the laird of Mackinnon, and had married a sister of Malcolm. Being desirous to ascertain the state of matters in the neighbourhood before conducting Charles into the house of his brother-in-law, Malcolm left the prince at a little distance from the house, and went forward to make the necessary inquiries. He found that Mackinnon was from home; and on informing his sister that he had come to stay a short time at Ellagol, if he could do so with safety, she assured him that he would be perfectly safe, as there were no military people about the place, and that he was very welcome. Malcolm then told her that he had nobody along with him but one Lewis Caw, son of Mr. Caw, a surgeon in Crieff, whom, being a fugitive like himself, he had engaged as his servant, but that he had fallen sick. Mrs. Mackinnon felt interested in the stranger, and requested her brother to bring him in.

Charles accordingly entered with the baggage on his back, and, taking off his bonnet, made a low bow, and sat down at a distance from Malcolm. Mrs. Mackinnon looked at the prince, and instantly her sympathy was excited. “Poor man!” she exclaimed, “I pity him. At the same time, my heart warms to a man of his appearance.” Malcolm having told his sister that he was almost famishing with hunger, she set before him a plentiful Highland breakfast. Charles still sitting at a respectful distance, Malcolm invited him, as there were no strangers in the house, to draw near and share with him, there being abundance for both. Charles appeared very backward to obey the summons to eat, and said that though in an humble station, he knew better how to conduct himself than by sitting at the same table with his master; but Malcolm pretended to insist upon compliance, Charles rose from his seat, made a profound bow, and advancing towards the table, sat down, and attacked the viands without farther ceremony.

In the course of their journey, Charles and his companion had fallen into a bog during the night, and as their feet and legs were still dirty, Malcolm desired the servant-maid in Gaelic, as she could not speak English, to bring some water into the room, and as he was much fatigued, to wash them. Whilst in the act of washing Macleod’s feet, he said to the girl, “You see that poor sick man there. I hope you’ll wash his feet too: it will be a great charity; for he has as much need as I have.” “No such thing,” said she, “although I wash the master’s feet, I am not obliged to wash the servant’s. What! he’s but a low country woman’s son. I will not wash his feet indeed.” Malcolm, however, with much entreaty, prevailed upon the girl to wash Charles’s feet and legs; but being rather rough in her treatment, he implored Malcolm to desire her not to rub so hard.[1268]

After this operation the wearied travellers went to bed; and at the desire of Malcolm, Mrs. Mackinnon went out of the house, and sat down upon a neighbouring knoll, where she kept watch, whilst her guests remained in bed. Charles, who had thrown himself upon the bed in his clothes, slept two hours only; but Malcolm slept much longer. When Malcolm awoke, he was surprised to find Charles out of bed dandling Mrs. Mackinnon’s child, singing to it, and appearing as alert as if he had been in bed all night. He expressed a hope that the little boy--Neil Mackinnon--whom he carried in his arms, would be one day a captain in his service.

Informed that his brother-in-law was seen approaching the house, Malcolm went out to meet him. After the usual salutations, Malcolm, pointing to some ships of war that were hovering about the coast, said to Mackinnon, “What if the prince be on board one of them?” “God forbid,” replied Mackinnon, “I would not wish that for anything.” “What,” said Malcolm, “if he were here, John? Do you think he would be safe enough?” “I wish we had him here,” rejoined Mackinnon, “for he would be safe enough.” Macleod, now fully assured that his brother-in-law might be confided in, said, “Well, then, he is now in your house.” Mackinnon, transported with joy, was for running directly in and paying his obeisance to the prince; but Malcolm stopped him for a little, till he should recover from his surprise. “When you go in,” continued Malcolm, “you must not take any notice of him, lest the servants or others observe you. He passes for one Lewis Caw, my servant.” Mackinnon promised to observe faithfully the injunction given him, which he thought he would be able to fulfil; but, as soon as he entered the house, he could not avoid fixing his eyes upon Charles; and unable to repress his feelings at the spectacle he beheld, this generous and faithful Highlander, turning his face aside, burst into tears. To prevent suspicion, Mackinnon, at Malcolm’s desire, left the room to compose himself.

Before being introduced to the prince, Mackinnon sent away all his servants from the house on different messages, and, during their absence, a consultation was held as to Charles’s future destination. It was then resolved that he should proceed to the mainland immediately; and John Mackinnon was directed to go and hire a boat, as if for the sole use of his brother-in-law. As the laird of Mackinnon was old and infirm, and could be of little service to Charles in his present situation, Mackinnon was enjoined not to say anything about Charles to his chief, should he fall in with him. Meeting the old chieftain, however, on his way, Mackinnon, unable or unwilling to conceal the fact of the prince’s arrival at Ellagol, disclosed the secret, and mentioned that he was going to hire a boat to carry Charles to the mainland. Gratified with the intelligence, the chief desired his clansman not to give himself any further trouble about a boat, as he would provide a good one himself, and would wait upon the prince immediately. John returned to Ellagol, and having informed Charles of the interview with the laird, the latter said that he was sorry that Mackinnon had divulged the secret; but as there was now no help for it, he would comport himself according to circumstances. In a short time the aged chief appeared, and after doing homage to the royal wanderer, conducted the prince to a neighbouring cave, where he found Lady Mackinnon, who had laid out a refreshment of cold meat and wine, of which the whole party partook.

Before the arrival of the chief, Malcolm Macleod had represented to the prince, that, being within the laird’s bounds, it would be necessary to allow him to direct everything in relation to the voyage, and, to prevent a difference of opinion arising between him and the chief, he suggested the propriety of remaining behind. Charles, extremely unwilling to part with one who had rendered him such important services, insisted upon his going along with him to the mainland; but Malcolm insisting on the other hand that the measure was proper, Charles, with much reluctance, consented to part with the faithful Macleod.

About eight o’clock at night the party left the cave, and proceeded towards the place where the boat lay. In their way they observed two English men-of-war standing in for the island, before the wind, under a press of sail. Malcolm thereupon entreated the prince to defer his voyage till such time, at least, as these vessels should take another course, more particularly as the wind was against him; but Charles disregarded the admonition, and observed, that after so many escapes, he had no apprehensions of being caught at that time; that Providence would still take care of him; and that he had no doubt of obtaining a favourable wind immediately. Recollecting his sham appointment with Murdoch Macleod, for not keeping which Malcolm promised to make his apology, Charles thought the least thing he could do was to notify his departure, which he accordingly did, by writing him a short note, delivering it to Malcolm.[1269] He then desired Malcolm to light his pipe, as he wished to enjoy a smoke with him before parting. Snapping his gun, Malcolm, by means of the flash in the pan, lighted some tow which he held at the mouth of the pipe whilst Charles blew it. As the pipe was extremely short, Charles’s cheek was scorched with the blaze of the tow. At parting, Charles presented him with a silver stock-buckle, and then embracing Malcolm in his arms, saluted him twice, and begging God to bless him, put ten guineas into his hand. Malcolm at first positively refused to accept the money, as he perceived that the prince’s purse was much exhausted; but Charles insisted upon his taking it, and assuring him that he would get enough for all his wants upon the mainland, Malcolm yielded. Having procured a better pipe, Charles presented the one with which he had been smoking to Malcolm, who preserved it with great care.[1270]

Between eight and nine o’clock in the evening of Friday, the 4th of July, the prince departed for the mainland, accompanied by the chief and John Mackinnon. The observation of Charles, that he would obtain a fair wind after putting to sea, had made a deep impression upon the superstitious mind of the generous Malcolm, who accordingly sat down upon the side of a hill to watch the expected change, which, according to him, took place very soon, for the crew had not rowed the boat half a mile from the shore in the direction of the ships, before the wind chopped about, and whilst it favoured the prince, drove the men-of-war out of sight.[1271]

After a rough voyage, the party reached a place called Little Mallag or Malleck, on the south side of Loch Nevis between Morar and Knoydart, distant about thirty miles from the place where they had embarked. At sea they met a boat, containing some armed militia. No attempt was made to board, and a few words were exchanged in passing. Charles’s visit to Skye soon became public, and the fact of his having been harboured and protected by certain persons in that island could not be disguised. Malcolm Macleod’s connexion with the prince being reported, he was apprehended a few days after Charles’s departure for the mainland, put on board a ship, and conveyed to London, where he remained a prisoner till the 1st of July, 1747, when he was discharged without being asked a single question. Kingsburgh also was taken up and conveyed to Fort Augustus, where, after being plundered of his shoe-buckles, garters, watch, and money, he was thrown into a dungeon, and loaded with irons. He was discharged by mistake for another person of the same name, but was brought back, and afterwards conveyed to Edinburgh, and committed to the castle, in which he remained till the 4th of July, in the same year.

Flora Macdonald was also apprehended about the same time by a party of militia, while on her way to the house of Donald Macdonald of Castleton in Skye, who had sent her notice that Macleod of Talisker, an officer of an independent company, had requested him to send for her. She was put on board the Furnace Bomb, and afterwards removed to Commodore Smith’s sloop, and treated with great kindness and attention by him and General Campbell. She was confined a short time in Dunstaffnage castle. After being conveyed from place to place, she was put on board the Royal Sovereign, lying at the Nore, on the 28th of November, and carried up to London on the 6th of December following, where she remained in confinement till July in the following year, when she was discharged, at the especial request--according to the tradition of her family--of Frederick, Prince of Wales, father of George III., without a single question having been put to her. After her liberation, Miss Macdonald was invited to the house of Lady Primrose, a zealous Jacobite lady, where she was visited by a number of distinguished persons, who loaded her with presents. She and Malcolm Macleod returned to Scotland together in a post-chaise provided by Lady Primrose, and, on their way, paid a visit to Dr. Burton at York, who had been previously liberated from jail. This gentleman having asked Malcolm his opinion of the prince, the trusty Highlander replied, that “he was the most cautious man he ever saw, not to be a coward, and the bravest, not to be rash.” Few persons, now-a-days, will be disposed to concur in this eulogium, for though personally brave, Charles was extremely rash and inconsiderate.[1272]

As parties of the military were known to be stationed at a short distance from the place where Charles and his party landed, they were afraid to leave it, and slept three nights in the open air on the banks of Loch Nevis. On the fourth day the old laird and one of the boatmen ventured a little way into the country in quest of a place of concealment; and the prince, along with John Mackinnon and the other three boatmen, proceeded up the loch close to the shore. In turning a point, they unexpectedly came upon a boat tied to a rock, and so near as to touch her with their oars. This boat belonged to a militia party who were seen standing on the shore, and were at once recognised by their badge, which was a red cross on their bonnets. This party immediately hailed the boat, and demanded to know whence they came. The boatmen answered that they were from Sleat. The militiamen then ordered the boat to come ashore; but the boatmen continuing to row, the military jumped into their boat and gave chase. Charles, who lay in the bottom of the boat with John Mackinnon’s plaid spread over him, wished to get up and attempt to escape by jumping ashore, but Mackinnon would not allow him, as he considered the experiment very dangerous. During the pursuit, Charles, who was anxious to know the relative progress of the two boats, kept up a conversation with the trusty Highlander, who assured him from time to time that the pursuers did not gain upon them. Both parties were equal in point of numbers; and as Mackinnon contemplated the possibility of the militiamen overtaking them, he directed the boatmen to keep their muskets close by them, but not to fire till he should give the word of command by firing first. “Be sure, (said John,) to take an aim. Mark well, and there is no fear. We will be able to manage these rogues, if we come to engage them.” Charles, begging that no lives might be sacrificed without an absolute necessity, Mackinnon said he would not fire if it could be avoided; but if compelled to do so in self-defence, their own preservation required that none of the assailants should escape to tell the news of their disaster. Observing a wood at some distance which reached down to the water, Mackinnon directed the boatmen to pull in that direction; and on reaching the shore, the prince, followed by Mackinnon and one of the boatmen, sprang out of the boat, and plunging into the wood, nimbly ascended the hill. The alarm into which they had been thrown gave place to feelings of a very different description, when, on reaching the summit of the hill, they perceived their pursuers returning from their fruitless chase.[1273]

Finding himself much fatigued, Charles slept three hours on this eminence, and returning down the hill, crossed the loch to a small island near the seat of Macdonald of Scothouse. Understanding that old Clanranald was there on a visit, Charles sent Mackinnon to solicit his protection, but the old chief positively refused to receive him. Upon Mackinnon’s return the party repassed the loch, and returned to Mallag, where they rejoined the old laird. After refreshing themselves, they set out for the seat of Macdonald of Morar, about eight miles distant. In crossing the promontory between Loch Nevis and Loch Morar they passed a shieling, or cottage, where they observed some people coming down towards the road. Afraid that he would be known, the prince made John Mackinnon fold his plaid for him, and threw it over his shoulder with his knapsack upon it. To disguise himself still further, he tied a handkerchief about his head. In this attire Charles passed for Mackinnon’s servant. A grandson of Macdonald of Scothouse, who was at the shieling, gave the party a draught of milk. At another shieling they procured another draught; and, as the night was dark and the road bad, they took a guide along with them to conduct them across the ford to Morar’s house. When they came to this ford, an amusing occurrence took place. Mackinnon, desirous to keep Charles dry in crossing, desired the guide to be so good as carry “this poor sick fellow,” (pointing to the prince,) upon his back across the ford, as it was then pretty deep; but the guide indignantly answered, “The deil be on the back he comes, or any fellow of a servant like him; but I’ll take _you_ on my back, Sir, if you please, and carry you safely through the ford.” “No, by no means,” said Mackinnon, “if the lad must wade, I’ll wade along with him, and help him, lest any harm should happen to him;” on saying which, he laid hold of Charles’s arm, and they crossed the ford together. Both Charles and Mackinnon were pleased to find that the guide had no suspicion that the pretended sick person was the prince.

A little before day-break the party arrived at the end of their journey, but were disappointed to find that the mansion, where they expected to meet with a hospitable reception, had been burnt to the ground, and that its proprietor had been obliged to take up his abode in a bothy or hut in the neighbourhood. Morar, who had acted as lieutenant-colonel of Clanranald’s regiment, gave the prince a hearty welcome. Having entertained Charles and his party, he conducted them to a cave for security, and went off in quest of young Clanranald, whom the prince was most anxious to see. After some hours’ absence Morar returned, and, reporting that he could not find Clanranald, Charles told him that as he had failed in meeting with that young chief, he would put himself under Morar’s charge. According to Mackinnon’s statement, Morar declined to take such a responsibility upon him, and even declared that he did not know any person to whose care he could commit Charles’s person. The prince, stung by the altered demeanour of Morar, thus accosted him: “This is very hard. You were very kind yesternight, Morar! and said you could find out a hiding-place, proof against all the search of the enemy’s forces; and now you say you can do nothing at all for me! You can travel to no place but what I will travel to; no eatables or drinkables can you take but what I can take a share along with you, and be well content with them, and even pay handsomely for them. When fortune smiled upon me and I had pay to give, I then found some people ready enough to serve me; but now that fortune frowns on me, and I have no pay to give, they forsake me in my necessity.” The chief of Mackinnon and his clansman were highly indignant at Morar, and insisted that he must have seen young Clanranald, and that he had been advised to his present course, but Morar resolutely denied the charge. Charles in great distress exclaimed, “O God Almighty! look down upon my circumstances, and pity me; for I am in a most melancholy situation. Some of those who joined me at first, and appeared to be fast friends, now turn their backs upon me in my greatest need: and some of those again who refused to join me, and stood at a distance, are now among my best friends; for it is remarkable that those of Sir Alexander Macdonald’s following have been most faithful to me in my distress, and contributed greatly to my preservation.” Then turning round to Mackinnon, he said, “I hope, Mr. Mackinnon, you will not desert me too, and leave me in the lurch; but that you will do all for my preservation you can.” The old laird, thinking that these words were meant for him, said, with tears in his eyes, “I never will leave your royal highness in the day of danger; but will, under God, do all I can for you, and go with you wherever you order me.”--“Oh no!” rejoined Charles, “that is too much for one of your advanced years, Sir; I heartily thank you for your readiness to take care of me, as I am well satisfied of your zeal for me and my cause; but one of your age cannot well hold out with the fatigues and dangers I must undergo. It was to your friend John here, a stout young man, I was addressing myself.”--“Well then,” said John, “with the help of God, I will go through the wide world with your royal highness, if you desire me.”[1274]

Disappointed in his inquiries after Clanranald, and unsuccessful, if John Mackinnon’s statement be correct, in his application to Morar, Charles resolved to go to Borodale, and solicit the assistance of “honest old Æneas Macdonald.” Accordingly, after taking leave of the laird of Mackinnon, Charles set off for Borodale, accompanied by John Mackinnon, under the direction of a boy, a son of Morar, as guide. The party reached Borodale, on the morning of the 10th of July, before day-break. As was the case at Morar, the house of the proprietor had been burnt by a body of troops, under Captain Ferguson, and Borodale was residing in a hut hard by the ruins of his mansion. Borodale was in bed when Charles arrived, and the door was shut. Mackinnon called upon Borodale to rise, who, knowing his voice, got up, and throwing some blankets about him, went to the door. Mackinnon asked him if he had heard any thing of the prince. “No,” replied the old gentleman. “What would you give,” rejoined John, “for a sight of him?” “Time was,” said the warm-hearted Highlander, “that I would have given a hearty bottle to see him safe; but since I see you I expect to hear some news of him.” “Well, then,” replied Mackinnon, “I have brought him here, and will commit him to your charge. I have done my duty, do you yours.” “I am glad of it,” said Borodale, “and shall not fail to take care of him: I shall lodge him so secure that all the forces in Britain shall not find him out.” John Mackinnon then took his leave, and returned to Ellagol; but he had scarcely reached his house when he was apprehended by a party of militia, and along with his chief, who was also captured by another party at Morar, the morning after Charles’s departure, conveyed to London, and kept in confinement till July, 1747.

Borodale conducted his guest to a hut in a neighbouring wood, where he entertained him in the best manner he could for three days, and in the meantime, Charles despatched John Macdonald, junior, one of Borodale’s sons, with a letter to Alexander Macdonald of Glenaladale, who had been in his service as Major of the Clanranald regiment.[1275] Receiving, shortly after this express had been sent, information of the laird of Mackinnon’s capture, and judging that his residence in the wood was not safe, Borodale, accompanied by his son Ronald, who had been a lieutenant in Clanranald’s own company, conducted Charles to an almost inaccessible cave four miles eastward, in which he directed him to remain till Glenaladale should arrive.

Charles’s letter was punctually delivered to Glenaladale, who, two days after it was written, viz. on the 15th of July, met Borodale at an appointed place, and paid a visit to Charles. Next day Borodale received a letter from his son-in-law, Angus Mac Eachan, residing in the glen of Morar, who had served as surgeon to Glengarry’s regiment, informing him that a rumour was beginning to prevail in the country, that the prince was in concealment about Borodale; and representing the danger Charles would be in, by remaining on Borodale’s lands any longer, he offered him a more secure asylum, in a place he had prepared for him. Before accepting this offer, Ronald Macdonald was sent to reconnoitre the place. Next day, John Macdonald was despatched to view the coast, and ascertain the motions of the military; and having brought intelligence that he saw a boat approaching that part of the coast where the grotto was situated, Charles, without waiting for the return of Ronald Macdonald, immediately left the cave, and set off for the glen of Morar, to the place prepared for him. He was accompanied by Glenaladale, Borodale, and John Macdonald junior, son of the latter. They were met, at a place called Corrybeine Cabir, by Borodale’s son-in-law, who informed Charles that Clanranald was waiting a few miles off, to conduct him to a safe place of concealment he had prepared for him. Charles would have proceeded to meet Clanranald, but as the evening was far advanced, and as he was much nearer his intended quarters in Glen Morar than the place where Clanranald was, he proceeded onward, intending to communicate with him next day.

Borodale, who had proceeded to Glen Morar in advance of the party to procure some necessaries, received information, on his arrival there, that some men-of-war with troops on board, under General Campbell, had anchored in Loch Nevis. He thereupon despatched two men to Loch Nevis, by way of Loch Morar, to observe General Campbell’s motions, and having received farther intelligence, that Captain Scott had arrived with a party in the lower part of Arisaig, he returned to Charles, and communicated to him the information he had received. Being assured that Charles was upon one of the promontories betwixt Loch Hourn and Loch Shiel, the English commanders had formed a chain of posts across the heads of these and the intermediate arms of the sea, so as to intercept him should he attempt to escape by land into the interior; and to catch him, should he venture to return to the islands, cruisers and boats were stationed at the mouths of the lochs. The sentinels along this line, which extended to the length of thirty miles, were placed so near one another in the day time, that no person could pass without being seen by them, and at night fires were lighted at every post, and the opposite sentinels passed, and repassed one another, from fire to fire. To cross such a chain during the day was quite impossible, nor did a passage by night appear more practicable.

Finding thus, that Clanranald’s country was wholly surrounded by the government troops, and that he would not be able to join that chief, Charles resolved to leave it immediately. To lessen the risk of discovery, by reducing the number of his companions, he took leave of Borodale and his son-in-law, and attended by Glenaladale, his brother Lieutenant John Macdonald, who had been an officer in the French service, and John Macdonald junior, Borodale’s son, set out in the morning of the 18th of July, and by mid-day reached the summit of a hill called Scoorvuy, at the eastern extremity of Arisaig. Here they rested and took some refreshment, and Glenaladale’s brother was then despatched to Glenfinnan, to obtain intelligence, and to direct two men whom Glenaladale had stationed there, to join the prince about ten o’clock at night, on the top of a hill called Swernink Corrichan, above Loch Arkaig in Lochiel’s country. After Lieutenant John Macdonald’s departure, Charles set out with his two remaining companions, and at two o’clock came to the top of a neighbouring hill, called Fruigh-vein. Observing some cattle in motion, Glenaladale went forward to ascertain the cause, and found that these cattle belonged to some of his own tenants, who were driving them away out of the reach of a body of 600 or 700 troops, who had come to the head of Loch Arkaig, to hem in the prince. As Charles and his friends meant to pass in that direction, they were greatly disconcerted at this intelligence, and resolved to alter their course. Glenaladale sent one of his tenants to Glenfinnan, which was only about a mile off, to recall his brother and the two men; and at the same time he sent another messenger for Donald Cameron of Glenpean, who had removed with his effects to a neighbouring hill, on the approach of the troops, that he might ascertain from him the situation of the troops about Fort Augustus, and to obtain his assistance in conducting the prince through the chain of posts. As they waited the return of the messengers, one of the tenants’ wives, regretting the condition of Glenaladale her landlord, and desirous of giving him some refreshment milked some of her cows, and brought the milk to him. Observing the woman approaching, Charles covered his head with a handkerchief, and passed for one of Glenaladale’s servants, who had got a headach. Though this refreshment, from the excessive heat of the day, was very seasonable, yet they would have gladly dispensed with the obtrusive kindness of the warm-hearted female. That Charles might participate in the present, without observation from the donor, Glenaladale prevailed upon her, though with some difficulty, to retire, and leave her dish behind.

After a short absence the messenger who had been despatched to Glenfinnan returned without finding Glenaladale’s brother, or the two men who had, before his arrival there, departed for the appointed place of rendezvous. He brought the alarming intelligence, that a hundred of the Argyleshire militia had arrived at the foot of the hill on which the prince now stood. Without waiting for the return of the other messenger, the party set out about sunset on their hazardous attempt. They travelled at a pretty quick pace till about eleven o’clock at night; when passing through a hollow way between two hills, they observed a man coming down one of them in their direction. Charles and young Macdonald kept behind, and Glenaladale went forward to ascertain whether this person was friend or foe. Strange to tell, the suspected individual was Donald Cameron of Glenpean, the very person whom, of all others, Glenaladale wished to see. He was immediately conducted to Charles, to whom he communicated such information as he had obtained about the government troops.

Undertaking to guide the prince and his companions past the guards, Cameron conducted them over roads almost impassable in day-light; and after travelling all night, they arrived about four o’clock in the morning of the 19th of July, on the top of a hill in the braes of Loch Arkaig, called Mamnyn-Callum, from which they could perceive the enemy’s camp about a mile distant. Being informed by their guide, that the hill on which they now stood had been searched the previous day, they supposed there would not be a second search for some time, and they therefore resolved to remain on the hill all the day. They lay down to rest, and after sleeping two hours, the whole party, with the exception of Charles, rose to keep watch. About ten o’clock they observed a man at a little distance coming up the hill. As there was a probability that Cameron, being generally acquainted with the inhabitants of that part of the country, might know this person, he was sent forward to speak with him, and was agreeably surprised to find that he was no other than Glenaladale’s brother, who not meeting the prince at the place appointed, had become alarmed for his safety, and was in search of him.

The whole party remained on the top of the hill all the day, and about nine o’clock at night set out in a southern direction. About one o’clock in the morning they came to a place called Corrinangaull, on the confines of Knoydart and Loch Arkaig, where Cameron expected to have met some of the Loch Arkaig people, who had fled with their cattle on the approach of the soldiery. Cameron had calculated on getting a supply of provisions from these people, as the prince and his party had only a small quantity of butter and oatmeal, which they could not prepare for want of fire. Perceiving some huts down the face of the hill, Glenaladale’s brother and the guide, at the risk of being observed by some of the sentinels who were going their rounds, ventured down to them, in expectation of meeting some of the country people, and obtaining a supply of provisions; but they found these shielings uninhabited. Judging themselves no longer safe on the top of the hill, the whole party shifted their quarters, and went to a fastness in the brow of a hill at the head of Lochnaigh, about a mile distant from the troops. They lay down in this retreat to take some rest. With the exception of Charles, they all awoke after a short repose; and it was resolved that, dangerous as the experiment might be, Glenaladale’s brother and the guide should again go in quest of provisions, of which they now stood in very great need. Leaving, therefore, Glenaladale, and Borodale’s son to stand sentry over Charles, they set off, while it was yet dark, on their errand. The place which the weary wanderers had chosen for their nocturnal abode commanded a view of the lake, and when the sun rose, Charles and his friends observed the enemy’s camp at the head of Lochnaigh. They would have gladly removed to a greater distance, but they resolved to wait for the return of the foraging party, who arrived about three o’clock in the afternoon, with two small cheeses, which were all the provisions they could procure. They also brought the alarming intelligence, that about a hundred soldiers were marching up the opposite side of the hill to search for some of the country people, who were supposed to have fled thither for shelter.

As it was not improbable that this party would in the course of their examination find out the place where Charles and his friends lay concealed, the most direful apprehensions must have seized the minds of the unhappy fugitives. Seeing no possibility of leaving their retreat without observation, whilst the soldiers were on the hill, they resolved to remain and abide the result. The soldiers made a general and narrow search all around, but fortunately did not come to the place where the wanderers lay. After the search was over the soldiers returned to their camp; and about eight o’clock in the evening Charles and his friends left their place of concealment, and, travelling at a very quick pace till it became dark, ascended a steep hill called Drimachosi, on arriving at the top of which, they observed the fires of a camp directly in their front, which in passing onward they imagined they could scarcely avoid. Determined, however, to make the attempt, whatever might be the consequences, they proceeded forward, and came so near the posts as to hear the soldiers talking together.

In passing over the top of this mountain Charles made a very narrow escape. Down a steep and pathless descent a small stream glided, the waters of which spreading among a mixture of grass and heath, with which the descent was covered, rendered it slippery, and of course very dangerous. When about to descend, Charles’s foot slipped, and he would have undoubtedly fallen headlong down the precipice, and been dashed to pieces, had not Cameron, who preceded him, seized him by one of his arms, and held him fast with one hand, whilst, with the other, he laid hold of the heath to prevent both from tumbling down together. In this situation, Cameron held Charles till Glenaladale came down, who, laying hold of the prince’s other arm, rescued him from his danger. Arriving at the bottom, they crept up the next hill, and, on reaching its summit, perceived the fires of another camp at the foot of the hill, directly in the way they intended to go down.

To pass this post seemed to be an undertaking utterly hopeless, and certain destruction appeared inevitable in the attempt; yet extremely dangerous as it was, the party resolved to make it. Unwilling, however, to expose the prince to such great risk, before putting the practicability of the measure to the test, Cameron, entirely regardless of his own safety, proposed to make the experiment himself before Charles ventured to pass. “If I succeed,” said the generous Highlander, “and return safe, then your royal highness may venture, and I shall conduct you.” At this time Cameron’s nose began to itch,--a circumstance which was regarded by Donald as a dangerous omen. Whilst rubbing his nose, he could not avoid stating his apprehensions to Charles; but these superstitious fears did not divert him from his purpose. Cameron accordingly went forward, and, in a short time, returned to his companions with the agreeable information that he had entirely succeeded. No doubt now existing of the practicability and even the safety of the attempt, the whole party set off about two o’clock in the morning. Turning a little westward, Cameron conducted them to the channel of a small brook, through which they crept on their hands and feet to escape observation; and watching their opportunity when the backs of the sentinels were turned towards one another, quietly passed between them. After they were out of danger from the guards, Charles came up to Glenpean, and jocularly said to him, “Well, Donald, how does your nose do now?” “It is better now,” answered Cameron, “but it still yucks (itches) a little.” “Aye, Donald,” rejoined the prince, as if taking the hint, “have we still more guards to go through?”

Having thus fortunately cleared the line of posts, the party proceeded in their course, and, at about the distance of two miles, came to a place called Corriscorridill, on the Glenelg side of the head of Loch Hourn, where they stopped, and, having chosen a secure place, sat down and took some refreshment. They had no bread; but Charles supplied the deficiency by covering a slice of the dry cheese with oatmeal. He partook of this coarse fare cheerfully, and washed it down with some water from a neighbouring spring. They remained in this retreat till eight o’clock in the evening.

It being now evident that Charles could not remain with any chance of safety in the West Highlands, Glenaladale proposed, that instead of going eastward, as Charles intended, he should proceed north into Ross-shire, and seek an asylum among that part of the Mackenzies who had not joined in the insurrection, and whose territory had not, on that account, been visited by the military. Charles resolved to adopt the advice of his kind friend; and as Cameron was unacquainted with the route, he and Glenaladale left the covert to look out for a guide. Before they had gone far, however, they were astonished to find that they had passed all the day within cannon-shot of two little camps, and they perceived, at the same time, a company of soldiers driving some sheep into a hut, for the purpose, as they supposed, of being slaughtered. Returning to their place of concealment, they apprised Charles of their discovery; and as no time was to be lost in providing for their safety, the whole party immediately set off, and about three o’clock next morning, July the 27th, reached Glenshiel, in the Earl of Seaforth’s country. As their small stock of provisions was exhausted, Glenaladale and Borodale’s son went forward in quest of a supply, and to find out a guide to conduct them to Pollew, where it was reported some French vessels had been. Whilst Glenaladale was conversing with some country people about a guide, a Glengarry man, who had been chased that morning by a party of soldiers from Glengarry, after they had killed his father, came running up. This man, who had served in the prince’s army, was recognised at once by Glenaladale, and as he knew him to be trustworthy, he resolved to keep him in reserve as a guide, in case they should be obliged to change their plan, and to remain about Glengarry. Having procured some provisions, Glenaladale and his companion returned to Charles, and after the whole party had partaken of the food, they retired to the face of an adjacent hill, and lay down to rest in a cave. They slept till between four and five o’clock in the afternoon, when Cameron, who had acted so faithfully, took his leave, as he was unacquainted with that part of the country. After Cameron’s departure, Glenaladale, observing the Glengarry man returning to his own country, stepped out of the cave and prevailed upon him to remain in a by-place for a short time, as he said he had something to communicate to him. Glenaladale, on his return, stated his plan to Charles, which was to keep the Glengarry man without explaining to him any thing, till such time as he could ascertain whether he could depend upon getting a guide to Pollew, failing which he would retain the Glengarry man. Charles approved of what Glenaladale had done. About seven o’clock, Glenaladale repaired to a place where he had appointed a man, who had promised to procure a guide, to meet him, and having found this person, was informed by him that he could not get one, and that the only French vessel that had touched at Pollew had gone away. Glenaladale, therefore, dismissed this person, and returning to Charles, informed him of what had passed. They then gave up the idea of proceeding farther into Ross-shire, and the Glengarry man, having been introduced to the prince, cheerfully undertook to conduct him to Strathglass or Glenmoriston, to either of which districts he intended, according to circumstances, to shape his course.[1276]

Accordingly the whole party, accompanied by their new guide, set out through Glenshiel at a late hour; but they had not proceeded more than half-a-mile, when Glenaladale stopped short, and, clapping his hand upon his side, declared that his purse, containing 40 guineas, which the prince had given him for defraying expenses, was gone. Thinking that he had left it at their last resting place, Glenaladale proposed to go back in quest of it, and desired the prince to remain behind an adjacent hill till he returned; but Charles was averse to the proposal, though the purse contained his whole stock of money. Glenaladale, however, went back along with Borodale’s son, and, on arriving at their last resting place, found the purse, but its contents were gone. Recollecting that a little boy had been at the place with a present of milk from a person whom Glenaladale had visited, he supposed that the boy might have taken away the purse, and he and his companion proceeded to the house of Gilchrist M’Rath, the person alluded to, and found the boy, who, as he had conjectured, had stolen the purse of gold. By means of Gilchrist, the money was restored to Glenaladale, with the exception of a trifle.

The temporary loss of the purse was a very fortunate occurrence for Charles and his friends, as, during Glenaladale’s absence, an officer and two privates passed close by the place where Charles stood, having come by the very road he and his party had intended to proceed. As they went in the direction taken by Glenaladale and his companion, Charles grew very uneasy about his friends, lest they should, on their return, meet with this party; but returning by a different way, they rejoined the prince without interruption. Charles was overjoyed at the return of his friend; and, with reference to his late providential escape, observed, “Glenaladale, my hour, I see, is not come; for I believe I should not be taken though I had a mind to it.” The party now continued their journey. In passing over the field of Glenshiel, the Glengarry man entertained Charles with an account of the action which happened there in 1719. Charles, it is said, could not help admiring the sagacity of his guide, who, though he had not been in the battle, gave as circumstantial and accurate an account of it as if he had been present.[1277]

Travelling all night, Charles and his friends arrived on the side of a hill above Strathchluaine, where, fixing upon a secure place of retreat, they reposed till near three o’clock in the afternoon of the following day, viz., 28th of July. They then continued their journey along the hill-side; but they had not travelled above a mile when they heard the firing of small arms on the hill above them, which they judged to proceed from some of the troops who were engaged in their usual occupation of shooting the people who had fled to the mountains with their cattle and effects. To avoid these bloodhounds the party took a northern route, and ascended a high hill between the Braes of Glenmoriston and Strathglass. They reached the summit of this mountain at a late hour, and sought repose for the night in an open cave, in which they could neither lie nor sleep. They had no fuel, and as they were wet to the skin with a heavy rain which fell during the whole of the day, they passed a most uncomfortable night. Charles felt himself very cold, and he endeavoured to warm himself by smoking a pipe.

Resolving again to go to Pollew, Glenaladale’s brother and the Glengarry man were despatched, about three o’clock in the morning of the 29th, in quest of some trusty persons to conduct the prince thither, and were appointed to meet Charles and the rest of the party on the top of a neighbouring hill. Charles and his friends set off about five o’clock, and, after a walk of two hours, reached the top of the appointed hill, where they met the guide, who stated that he was directed by some proper persons he had found out, to desire Glenaladale to repair to a hill in the Braes of Glenmoriston, called Corambian, where they promised to come at an appointed hour with some victuals. The persons alluded to were a party of seven men, who, having been engaged in the insurrection, had formed themselves into a sort of predatory fraternity; intending, perhaps, to resume their former habits of industry when the persecutions of the government ceased. These had taken up their abode in a romantic cave on the side of Corambian, and seldom removed to any considerable distance from their rocky den, unless compelled by the necessity of providing for their immediate wants.

As directed, Charles and his friends proceeded to Corambian, and when they came near the cave, Glenaladale and the guide went forward, leaving Charles and the other two Macdonalds at a little distance. All the inmates of the den were present except one, and having killed a sheep that day, had just sat down to dinner. Glenaladale said he was glad to see them so well provided, and they invited him to sit down and share with them. He then said he had a friend with him, outside, for whom he must beg the same favour. Being asked by them who the friend was, he answered that it was young Clanranald, his chief. Nobody could be more welcome, they said, than the young chief; and they added, that they were willing to purchase food for him at the point of their swords. Glenaladale then left the cave and brought in Charles, who, being immediately recognised by its residents, had every respect shown him by these men, who fell on their knees before him. It is almost unnecessary to add, that Charles, who had scarcely tasted food for forty-eight hours, made ample amends for his long fast. After dinner, Charles’s entertainers made up a bed for him of ferns and tops of heath, on which he was soon lulled asleep by the gentle murmurs of a purling stream that ran through the grotto close to his bedside.

The dress which Charles wore at this time is thus described by Mr. Home, who obtained his information from Hugh Chisholm, one of the seven persons who were in the cave at the time Charles resided in it.[1278] Upon his head he had a wretched yellow wig and a bonnet, and about his neck a clouted handkerchief. He wore a coat of coarse, dark-coloured cloth, a Stirling tartan vest, much worn, a pretty good belted plaid, tartan hose, and Highland brogues tied with thongs, so much worn that they would scarcely stick upon his feet. His shirt, the only one he had, was of the colour of saffron. The inhabitants of the cave had no change of dress to offer their guest; but an incident occurred which enabled them to supply his wants. Hearing that a detachment of government troops, under Lord George Sackville, was marching from Fort-Augustus to Strathglass, and knowing that they must pass at no great distance from their abode, the robbers resolved to make an attempt upon their baggage. For this purpose they placed themselves between two hills, near the road to Strathglass, where, free from observation, they awaited the detachment. It soon appeared, and after it had passed, the Highlanders fired at some officers’ servants, who were a considerable distance behind, and, rushing down upon them, seized and carried off some portmanteaus, in which they found every thing that Charles stood in need of.

The search for Charles, which had hitherto been pursued with the most persevering assiduity, now began to slacken, in consequence of an occurrence, which, it was supposed, rendered farther search unnecessary. Among other persons who had joined Charles at Edinburgh, there was a young man of respectable family, named Roderick Mackenzie. He had served as one of the prince’s life-guards. Being about the same age as Charles, tall and somewhat slender, like the prince, and with features resembling, in some degree, those of Charles, he might, with ordinary observers, who had not been accustomed to see them together, have passed for the prince. As he could not venture with safety to Edinburgh, where he had two maiden sisters living, he fled to the Highlands after the battle of Culloden, and, while skulking among the hills of Glenmoriston, was surprised by a party of soldiers, about the middle of July. Mackenzie endeavoured to escape; but being overtaken, he turned round upon his pursuers, and, drawing his sword, bravely defended himself. He was shot by one of the soldiers, and as he fell, he exclaimed, “You have killed your prince! you have killed your prince!” and immediately expired. Overjoyed at their supposed good fortune, the soldiers cut off the young man’s head, and hurried to Fort-Augustus with their prize. The Duke of Cumberland, convinced that he had got the head of his relative, had it, it is said, packed up, and ordering a post-chaise, went off to London, carrying the head along with him. Shortly after his arrival, however, the deception, which had been of essential service to Charles, was discovered.[1279]

Being pretty secure in Coiraghoth, as the cave was called, Charles remained three days in this retreat, during which he recruited so well that he considered himself able to encounter any hardships. The whole party then shifted their quarters to another hill, about two miles off, and took up their abode in another cave, on the 2d of August. After staying four days in their new dwelling they were again obliged to shift, in consequence of information they received, that one Campbell, a steward of Lord Seaforth and captain of militia, had pitched his camp at a little distance, to graze a large herd of cattle. Leaving one of their party behind to watch Campbell’s motions, they set off in a northerly direction, and travelled to the heights of Strathglass. Charles was conducted to a sheep-cot, in which a bed was made up for him, consisting of turf, with the grass-side uppermost, and a pillow of the same. He remained in this hovel three days, during which an express was sent to Pollew, to ascertain whether a report which had reached him of some French vessels having been seen off the coast, was correct. On the supposition that the report would turn out to be well founded, the party followed the express, and crossing along the moor, put up at another shieling for the night, and about twelve o’clock, next day, August the 10th, arrived at a place called Glencanna, and passing the day in a neighbouring wood, repaired at night to a village hard by. About two o’clock next morning they scrambled up a hill on the north side of Glencanna, and sending off two of their number to forage for provisions, they waited two days in a neighbouring shieling for the return of their messenger from Pollew. The express arrived, and brought notice that a French ship had been upon the coast, and had landed two gentlemen, who had gone to Lochiel’s country in quest of the prince. In expectation of meeting these gentlemen, Charles resolved to retrace his steps.

Upon the 13th of August they crossed the water of Casina, and passing near the house of young Chisholm, arrived at a place called Fassanacoil in Strathglass, about two o’clock in the morning. They concealed themselves in a thick wood, and some of the party were despatched as scouts to the Braes of Glengarry and Lochaber, to ascertain whether the search for the prince was over, and if the troops had returned to their camp at Fort-Augustus. Having ascertained on the return of their spies that the government troops had returned to their head-quarters, the whole party left the wood, where they had remained three days, and, on the morning of the 17th of August, set out through an unfrequented road, and again reached the Braes of Glenmoriston. Passing the day on the top of a hill, they continued their journey at night; but they had gone scarcely a mile, when they received information that a strong party of military were among the heights of Glengarry in quest of the prince. They, therefore, stopped short in their journey till they should ascertain the motions of the enemy, and passed the remainder of the night in a shieling.

Charles being now extremely desirous of opening a communication with his friends in Lochaber, which was by this time almost free from troops, despatched two messengers on the morning of the 18th of August to Loch Arkaig in quest of Cameron of Clunes, to inform him that Glenaladale wished to meet him at a convenient place. Another of the party was, at the same time, sent to the Braes of Glengarry to ascertain if the troops were still in that quarter. Having ascertained, by the return of this messenger, who came back next day, that the roads were clear, Charles and his party, consisting altogether of ten persons, set out in the afternoon of the 19th, and passing under the favour of a fog through Glenmoriston and Glenlyne, arrived late at night in the Braes of Glengarry. The river Garry was swollen to a great height by the heavy rains which had fallen for some days; but some of the party having ascertained that it was fordable, Charles and his friends waded across with the water up to their middle. After passing the river, they proceeded onward about a mile in a very dark night, and finding no covert, remained on the side of the hill during the night, without shelter, amid a torrent of rain. Next morning they continued their course over hills and moors till they reached a height near a place called Achnasalt, or Achnasual, where the messengers sent to Loch Arkaig had been appointed to meet them. The rain having poured down without intermission all night and during the day, the situation of these forlorn wanderers had become very uncomfortable; and, to add to their distress, their whole stock of provision was exhausted. As none of the messengers had arrived, they were exceedingly perplexed what to do; but they were soon relieved from their anxiety by the appearance of Peter Grant, one of the most active of the seven men, who brought notice from Cameron of Clunes that he could not meet Glenaladale that night, but that he would visit him at the appointed place of rendezvous next morning, and in the meantime directed him to pass the night in a wood about two miles distant. Before setting out for their new quarters, of which they received a favourable report from two of the party, who were sent to examine the place, Glenaladale, with the consent of the prince, sent a messenger to Lochgarry, who lay concealed a few miles off, acquainting him with their arrival at Achnasual, and requesting him to meet them in the wood. After entering the wood, fortune threw a buck in their way, which one of the party immediately shot. Having kindled a fire, they roasted the flesh, and made a hearty meal, but without bread or salt. Lochgarry joined them the same night.

At ten o’clock next morning, August the 15th, Cameron of Clunes came to the wood, and conducted Charles to another forest at the foot of Loch Arkaig, in which he lay all night. With the exception of Hugh Chisholm and Peter Grant, all the Glenmoriston men took their leave. Charles expressed a wish to go to Rannoch, or Badenoch, where Lochiel and Cluny were; but upon Clunes informing him that he could not pass without great danger, as all the ferries were strictly guarded, he gave up his design, and, early next morning, sent a messenger to Lochiel, desiring his attendance. Concluding that Charles was to the north of the lakes, these chiefs had, about this period, sent Dr. Cameron and the Rev. John Cameron by different routes, to obtain information respecting the prince. On arriving within a few miles of the place where Lochiel was, Charles’s messenger met the Doctor and the two French officers who had lately landed. As the messenger was desired to communicate no information about Charles to any person but Lochiel himself, he declined to answer any questions respecting the prince; but having stated that he had business of the utmost importance with Lochiel, the Doctor conducted him to his brother. Lochiel being unable, from the state of his wounds, to travel to a distance, then sent his brother to wait upon the prince, and to make his apology.

Dr. Cameron, accompanied by two servants, arrived at the foot of Loch Arkaig on the 19th of August, and when near the place of Charles’s concealment, he met Cameron of Clunes. At this time Charles and one of Clunes’s sons were sleeping on the mountain, and Peter Grant was keeping watch; but, nodding upon his post, Grant did not observe the approach of the party till they were pretty near. He instantly awaked Charles and his companion. Cameron and Grant proposed that they should flee to the top of the mountain, but Charles thought differently. He said he considered there was more danger in attempting to escape than in remaining where they were; and he proposed that they should take up a position behind some stones, take aim, and fire upon the party when they came nearer. He said that, as Grant and he were good marksmen, they would certainly do some execution, and that he had in reserve a brace of pocket pistols, which, for the first time, he produced. Fortunately, however, before a single shot was fired, the person of Clunes was recognised among the party. The joy of Charles and of young Cameron, at the narrow escape which the friends of the one and the father of the other had made, may be easily conceived. When informed by Dr. Cameron that Lochiel was well, and almost recovered of his wounds, the prince expressed the unbounded satisfaction he felt by fervently returning thanks to God three times. The appearance of Charles at this time was singular, and even terrific. He was bare-footed, and his beard had grown to a great length. He wore a dirty shirt, an old black tartan coat, a plaid, and a philibeg, carried a musket in his hand, and wore a pistol and dirk by his side. Had he not had one of the best and soundest constitutions ever enjoyed by a prince, he must ere this have fallen a victim to the numerous privations he had suffered; but his health remained unimpaired, and his flow of spirits continued. His companions had killed a cow on the present occasion, and when Dr. Cameron arrived a part of it was preparing for dinner. Charles partook heartily of the beef, which was seasoned by a supply of bread from Fort-Augustus, a commodity to which he had been for some time unaccustomed.

Next day the party went to a wood called Torvuilt, opposite to Achnacarry, where they held a council. Charles now proposed to go south, and join Lochiel; but one of the party mentioning that he had seen a paragraph in some newspapers, that had been brought from Fort-Augustus, which stated that he and Lochiel had passed Corryarrick with 30 men, he judged it advisable to defer his journey for a few days, as a search might be made for him about that mountain. In the meantime it was agreed that Dr. Cameron should visit Lochaber to procure intelligence, and that Lochgarry should go to the east end of Loch Lochy, and remain upon the isthmus between the lakes, to watch the motions of the troops. They accordingly left Charles the same day, and Cameron and Clunes, after conducting the prince and his party to another hut in the neighbourhood, also took leave.

Charles remained eight days in the neighbourhood of Achnacarry. Having expressed a strong desire to see the French officers who had landed at Pollew, they were brought to him. These gentlemen had come from Dunkirk in a small vessel, with 60 others, who had formed themselves into a company of volunteers under these two officers. Two of the volunteers landed along with the officers, and were taken prisoners. One of them, named Fitzgerald, a Spanish officer, was hanged at Fort William, on the ground of having been a spy in Flanders, and the other, a M. de Berard, a French officer, was afterwards exchanged upon the cartel. The officers fell in with Mr. Alexander Macleod, one of Charles’s aides-de-camp, to whom they delivered some despatches they had brought over to the French ambassador, and they continued to wander in Seaforth’s country till Lochgarry, hearing that they had letters to the prince, sent a Captain Macraw and his own servant to find them out and bring them to Lochiel, as the prince could not be found. When brought to Lochiel, he suspected them to be government spies. On Charles expressing his wish to see these officers, the Rev. John Cameron, who had lately joined, told him what his brother Lochiel thought of them, and advised him to act with great caution. The prince confessed that it appeared a very suspicious circumstance, that two men, without knowing a word of Gaelic, and being perfect strangers in the country, should have escaped so long if they were not really spies; but as they had told Lochiel that they had never seen the prince, he thought that he might see them safely by a stratagem, without being known to them. He therefore wrote them a letter to this effect:--that, in order to avoid falling into his enemies’ hands, he had been under the necessity of retiring to a distant part of the country, where he had no person with him except one Captain Drummond and a servant, and, as he could not remove from the place of his concealment without danger, he had sent Captain Drummond with the letter; and as he could repose entire confidence in him, he desired them to deliver any message they had to Drummond. This letter the prince proposed to deliver himself, as Captain Drummond, and the officers being sent for, were introduced to him under his assumed name. He delivered them the letter, which they perused, and he then obtained from them all the information they had to communicate, which, as his affairs then stood, was of little importance. They remained with him two days, and put many questions about the prince’s health, his manner of living, &c. Thinking the packet they had delivered to Mr. Macleod might be of use, Charles sent for it; but as the letters were in cipher he could make nothing of them, not having the key.

About this time Charles made a very narrow escape, under the following circumstances. Information having been sent to the camp at Fort-Augustus that Charles or some of his principal adherents were in the neighbourhood of Loch Arkaig, a party was despatched in quest of them. One of Clunes’s sons and Cameron the minister had gone to the strath of Clunes to obtain intelligence, and had entered a hut which Clunes had built for his family after his house had been burnt. They had not, however, been half-an-hour within, when a little girl came running into the house, in great haste, and said that she saw some soldiers approaching. At first they thought that the child was mistaken, as Lochgarry had promised to place a guard between Fort-Augustus and Clunes, to give intelligence of the approach of troops; but going out of the house, they found that the girl was correct in her information. It was then about eight o’clock in the morning, and the prince, with one of Clunes’s sons and Peter Grant, was sleeping in a hut on the face of the hill on the other side of the water of Kaig, about a mile from Clunes’s hut. Whilst old Cameron, therefore, remained to watch the motions of this party, one of his sons and the minister went off to arouse Charles. Crossing the water under cover of the wood, they came within pistol-shot of the soldiers, who proceeded down into the strath. When awaked and informed of his danger, Charles, with great composure, called for his gun, and, looking down the vale, saw a number of soldiers demolishing Clunes’s hut and searching the adjacent woods.[1280] Charles and his attendants immediately resolved to remove to a distance, and to conceal their flight, ascended the hill along the channel of a torrent which the winter rains had worn in the face of the mountain. Clearing this hill without being seen, they proceeded to another mountain, called Mullentagart, of a prodigious height, and very steep and craggy. They remained all day on this hill without a morsel of food. One of Clunes’s sons came to them about twelve o’clock at night with some whisky, bread, and cheese, and told them that his father would meet them at a certain place in the hills, at a considerable distance, with provisions, and the young man returned to let his father know that he might expect them. Charles and his attendants set out for the appointed place at night, and travelled through most dreadful ways, amongst rocks and stumps of trees, which tore their clothes and limbs. Such were the difficulties they encountered, that the guides proposed to halt and rest till the morning, but Charles, though exceedingly exhausted, insisted on going on, that they might not break their appointment with Clunes. Worn out at last with fatigue and want of food, the prince was not able to proceed farther without assistance. Though almost in the same situation themselves, the Highlanders offered him their aid, and two of them laying hold each of an arm, supported him till he arrived at the end of this very laborious journey. They met Clunes and his son, who had already killed a cow and dressed a part of it for their use.

Charles remained in this remote place with his companions till the arrival of Lochgarry and Dr. Cameron. They informed him that they had been with Lochiel and Cluny, and that it had been concerted among them that the prince should come to their asylum for some time; and they added, that Cluny would meet his Royal Highness at Auchnacarry, on a certain day, in order to conduct him to Badenoch. Being also informed by them that the passes were not so strictly guarded as formerly, Charles crossed Loch Arkaig, and took up his abode in a fir wood belonging to Lochiel, on the west side of the lake, to wait the arrival of Cluny. Impatient to see two such tried friends as Lochiel and Cluny, Charles would not wait for Cluny’s coming to Auchnacarry, but set out for Badenoch with such guides as he had. Next day Charles arrived at a place called Corinauir, in Badenoch, where he passed the night. Cluny had passed on to Auchnacarry the same day by another way. Lochiel, who had skulked in his own country about two months, had sought an asylum among the Braes of Rannoch, where he was attended by Sir Stewart Thriepland, an Edinburgh physician, for the cure of the wounds he had received in his ancles. On the 20th of June they fell in with Macpherson of Cluny, who conducted them to a more secure retreat on Benalder, a hill of immense circumference, on his own property, on the borders of Rannoch. Lochiel, who had since that time lived on this mountain with his friend Cluny, was now residing in a small miserable hovel on the side of the hill, at a place called Mellenauir, or Millanuir, attended by Macpherson of Breakachie, Allan Cameron, his principal servant, and two servants of Cluny.

On the morning of the 30th of August, Charles, accompanied by Lochgarry, Dr. Cameron and two servants, set out for Mellenauir. They were all armed, and on approaching the hut they were mistaken by Lochiel for a party of militia, who, he supposed, had been sent out in search of him from a camp a few miles off. From the lameness in his feet, Lochiel was not in a condition to attempt an escape, but there seemed to be little danger, as both parties were equal in point of numbers, and the party in the hut had this advantage, that they could fire their first volley without being observed, and as they had a considerable quantity of fire arms, they could discharge another volley or two before the advancing party could reload their pieces. The danger to which Charles and his friends were now exposed was greater than that which Dr. Cameron and Clunes had run, as, on the present occasion, the party in the hut, resolving to receive their supposed enemies with a general discharge of all the firearms, had actually planted and levelled their pieces; but happily for Charles and his friends, they were recognised just as Lochiel and his attendants were about giving their fire. Upon making this fortunate discovery Lochiel left the hut, and, though very lame, went forward to meet the prince. On coming up to Charles, Lochiel was about to kneel, but Charles prevented him, and clapping him on the shoulder, said, “Oh no, my dear Lochiel, we do not know who may be looking from the top of yonder hills, and if they see any such motions they will immediately conclude that I am here.” Charles always considered Lochiel as one of his best friends, and placed the greatest confidence in him; and the generous chief showed, by his unbounded attachment to the prince, that this confidence was not misplaced. The meeting, therefore, of two such friends, after so many perils and escapes, was extremely joyous.

After they had recovered from the first transports of their joy, Lochiel conducted Charles into the hut, where the latter beheld a sight to which his eyes had not been accustomed for many months. Besides abundance of mutton, the hut contained an anchor of whisky, of twenty Scotch pints, some good dried beef sausages, a large well-cured bacon ham, and plenty of butter and cheese. On entering the prince took a hearty dram, and drank to the health of his friends. Some minced collops were then prepared for him with butter in a large saucepan, which Lochiel and Cluny always carried about with them, being the only fire-vessel they had. The pan was set before Charles with a silver spoon. He took this repast with great gusto, and was so delighted with this little change in his circumstances, that he could not help exclaiming, with a cheerful countenance, “Now, gentlemen, I live like a prince.” After dinner he asked Lochiel if he had always fared so well during his retreat. “Yes, Sir,” answered Lochiel; “for near three months past I have been hereabout with my cousin Cluny; he has provided for me so well that I have had plenty of such as you see, and I thank Heaven your Royal Highness has got through so many dangers to take a part.” Finding, on his arrival at Auchnacarry, that Charles had departed with his friends for Badenoch, Cluny had retraced his steps, and he reached Mellenauir two days after Charles’s arrival there. On entering the hut Cluny would have kneeled before Charles, but the prince prevented him, and giving him a kiss, said, “I am sorry, Cluny, you and your regiment were not at Culloden: I did not hear till very lately that you were so near us that day.”

The day after his return to Mellenauir, Cluny, thinking it time to remove to another retreat, conducted the prince and his attendants to a little shieling called Uiskchibra, about two miles farther into Benalder. This hut was very bad and extremely smoky; but Charles accommodated himself, as he had always done, to circumstances. After passing two nights in this miserable abode, he was conducted to a very extraordinary and romantic habitation, called the Cage, which Cluny had fitted up for Charles’s reception. From the description given by Cluny of this remarkable retreat, it will be seen how well adapted it was for the purpose of concealment.

“It was,” says Donald Macpherson, “situated in the face of a very rough, high, and rocky mountain, called Letternilichk, still a part of Benalder, full of great stones and crevices, and some scattered wood interspersed. The habitation called the Cage, in the face of that mountain, was within a small thick bush of wood. There were first some rows of trees laid down, in order to level a floor for the habitation; and as the place was steep, this raised the lower side to an equal height with the other; and these trees, in the way of joists or planks, were levelled with earth and gravel. There were betwixt the trees, growing naturally on their own roots, some stakes fixed in the earth, which, with the trees, were interwoven with ropes, made of heath and birch twigs, up to the top of the Cage, it being of a round or rather oval shape; and the whole thatched and covered over with fog. This whole fabric hung, as it were, by a large tree, which reclined from the one end all along the roof to the other, and which gave it the name of the Cage; and by chance there happened to be two stones at a small distance from one another, in the side next the precipice, resembling the pillars of a chimney, where the fire was placed. The smoke had its vent out here, all along the face of the rock, which was so much of the same colour, that one could discover no difference in the clearest day. The Cage was no larger than to contain six or seven persons; four of whom were frequently employed playing at cards, one idle looking out, one baking, and another firing bread and cooking.”[1281]

Charles’s deliverance was now nearer at hand than he or his friends probably expected. Several small vessels had arrived on the west coast, from time to time, to carry him off to France; but the persons in charge of these not being able to find him had returned home. Charles knew this, and now that he was able to keep up a communication with his friends, he took care to provide against a similar recurrence. He was at a considerable distance from the coast, but matters were so concerted that, if a French vessel appeared, he could easily get the intelligence. There were some of his partizans skulking near the west coast, who, though they did not know where he himself was, had instructions to convey the news to others who were concealed in the interior, who would again communicate it to persons in the knowledge of the prince’s place of retreat. For some time Colonel Warren, of Dillon’s regiment, had been exerting himself to induce the French government to fit out an expedition to rescue Charles from his toils. He at last succeeded in procuring two vessels of war, L’Heureux and La Princesse de Conti, with which he departed from St. Malo about the end of August. In the event of his bringing the prince safe away, the Chevalier de St. George had promised to make him a Knight Baronet, a dignity which he afterwards conferred upon him.[1282]

These vessels arrived in Lochnanuagh early in September, and Captain Sheridan, a son of Sir Thomas Sheridan, and a Mr. O’Beirne, a lieutenant in the French service, immediately landed and waited upon Glenaladale, who, they were informed, knew where Charles was. This faithful friend, happy at the prospect of escape which now offered, set off the same night for the place where he expected to find Charles, to communicate to him the agreeable intelligence; but to his great sorrow he found the prince gone, and he could fall in with no person who could give him the least information of his route. Clunes, from whom Glenaladale expected to get tidings of Charles, had, in consequence of the destruction of his hut, gone to another quarter, and was not to be found. Whilst ruminating over his disappointment, a poor woman accidentally came to the place where he was, and he had the good fortune to ascertain from her the place of Clunes’s retreat. Having found him out, he and Clunes instantly despatched a messenger to Charles with the joyful intelligence; and Glenaladale then returned to Lochnanuagh, to notify to Colonel Warren that Charles might be speedily expected in that quarter.

The messenger arrived at Benalder on the 13th of September, on which day Charles left his romantic abode, and, after taking leave of Cluny, set off on his journey for the coast, accompanied by Lochiel and others. He at the same time sent off confidential messengers in different directions, to acquaint such of his friends as he could reach, announcing the arrival of the ships, that they might have an opportunity of joining him if inclined. As Charles and his friends travelled only by night, they did not reach Borodale, the place of embarkation, till the 19th. On the road Charles was joined by Lochgarry, John Roy Stewart, Dr. Cameron, and other gentlemen who intended to accompany him to France. Besides these, many others had left their different hiding places on hearing of the arrival of the French vessels, and had repaired to the coast of Moidart, also waiting for the arrival of him for whose sake they had forfeited their lives, intending to adopt the bitter alternative of bidding an eternal adieu to their native land. The number of persons assembled was about a hundred.

The career of Charles in the hereditary dominions of his ancestors was now ended. Attended by seven persons only, he had, with daring hardihood, landed about fourteen months before on the spot where he was destined to depart as a fugitive, and, with a handful of men, had raised the standard of insurrection and set the whole power of the government at open defiance. The early part of his progress had been brilliant. With a few thousand undisciplined mountaineers, he had overrun land, in the face of three hostile armies, had carried dismay to the capital. The retreat from Derby, the merit of which belongs to Lord George Murray exclusively, quieted for a time the apprehensions of the government; but the defeat at Falkirk again convinced it that the succession settlement was still in danger; and that, perhaps, at no distant day, the young and daring adventurer might place the son of James II. upon the throne from which his father had been expelled. Even after his retreat to Inverness, the supporters of the house of Hanover could have no assurance that the Duke of Cumberland’s army might not share the fate of its predecessors, in which event the new dynasty would probably have ceased to reign; but the triumphs of Charles were at an end, and the fatal field of Culloden, after witnessing the bravery of his troops, became the grave of his hopes. Then commenced that series of extraordinary adventures and wonderful escapes, of which some account has been given, and which could scarcely have been credited had they not been authenticated beyond the possibility of dispute. During the brilliant part of his career Charles had displayed great moderation and forbearance; and though his spirits sank when compelled to retreat, yet in the hour of adversity, when beset with perils and exposed to privations which few princes could have endured, he exhibited uncommon fortitude, strength of mind, and cheerfulness.

In his wanderings Charles laid down a rule to himself, to which he scrupulously adhered, never to intrust any person from whom he was about to depart with the secret of his route, so that, with the exception of the few friends who were about him for the time being, none of those to whom he had been formerly indebted for his preservation knew the place of his retreat. This was a wise precaution, but was attended with this disadvantage, that it prevented him from acquiring early information of the arrival of the French vessels upon the coast. But no means he was able to take for his own security could have saved him, had he not had a guarantee in the incorruptible fidelity of the persons into whose hands he committed himself. At the risk of their own destruction they extended to him the aid of their protection, and relieved his necessities. Many of these persons were of desperate fortunes, and there were others in the lowest ranks of life; yet, among nearly 200 persons to whom Charles must have been known during the five months he wandered as a fugitive, not one ever offered to betray him, though they knew that a price of £30,000 was set upon his head. History nowhere presents such a splendid instance of disinterested attachment to an unfortunate family.

Accompanied by Lochiel, Lochgarry, John Roy Stewart, Dr. Cameron, and a considerable number of other adherents, Charles departed from Lochnanuagh on the 20th of September, and had a favourable passage to the coast of France, where he landed on Monday the 29th of September. He immediately proceeded to Morlaix, whence he despatched Colonel Warren the same day to Paris, to announce his arrival to the French court. He also sent at the same time a letter to his brother Henry, to the same effect, and enclosed a similar one to his father.

FOOTNOTES:

[1240] _Lockhart Papers_, vol. ii. p 541.

[1241] Macleod’s Narrative in _Jacobite Memoirs_.

[1242] _Lockhart Papers_, vol. ii. p. 541. _Kirkconnel MS._

[1243] _Kirkconnel MS._

[1244] Macleod’s Narrative.

[1245] _Genuine and True Journal_, p. 16.

[1246] O’Neil’s, Burke’s, and Macleod’s Narratives, in _Jacobite Memoirs_. Macleod was taken prisoner a few days afterwards in Benbecula, by Lieutenant Allan Macdonald, of Knock, in Sleat, in the island of Skye. He was put on board the Furnace, and brought down to the cabin before General Campbell, who examined him most minutely. The general asked him if he had been along with the Pretender? “Yes,” said Donald, “I was along with that young gentleman, and I winna deny it.” “Do you know,” said the general, “what money was upon that gentleman’s head?--No less a sum than thirty thousand pounds sterling, which would have made you and your family happy for ever.” “What then?” replied Donald, “what though I had gotten it? I could not have enjoyed it for two days. Conscience would have gotten the better of me; and although I could have gotten all England and Scotland for my pains, I would not have allowed a hair of his body to be touched if I could hinder it, since he threw himself upon my care.” Campbell observed that he could not much blame him. Donald was sent to London, but released on the 10th of June, 1747. When he arrived in Leith from London, on his return to Skye, he had no money to carry him thither; but his wants were supplied by the Rev. Robert (afterwards bishop) Forbes, an episcopal clergyman in Leith, who set a subscription on foot in that town, and in Edinburgh, “to make out,” as the bishop says, “for honest Palinurus, if possible, a pound sterling, for every week he had served the prince in distress; and,” continues the worthy bishop, “I thank God I was so happy as to accomplish my design directly.” In acknowledgment of his fidelity, Donald was presented by Mr. John Walkinshaw of London, with a large silver snuff-box, handsomely chased, and doubly gilt in the inside. Upon the lid of this box there was the representation of an eight-oared boat, with Donald at the helm, and the eight rowers making their way through a very rough and tempestuous sea. The Long island is seen in the distance upon one of the extremities of the lid, and the boat appears to be just steering into Rossinish, the point of Benbecula where Charles landed after leaving Lochnanuagh. On the other end of the lid there was a landscape of the end of the isle of Skye, as it appears opposite to the Long island, on which the sites of Dunvegan and Gualtergill are marked. The clouds were represented as heavy and lowering, and the rain descending; and above the clouds, i.e., near the hinge, the following motto was engraved:--“Olim hæc meminisse juvabit. Aprilis 26to, 1746.” Upon the bottom, and near the edge of the lid, was this inscription,--“Quid Neptune, paras? Fatis agitamur iniquis.” The following words were engraved on the bottom of the box:--“Donald Macleod of Gualtergill, in the isle of Skye, the faithful Palinurus, æt. 68, 1746.” Below which there was a representation of a dove with an olive branch in its bill. Donald never put any snuff into this box, and when asked the cause by Mr. Forbes, he exclaimed, “Sneeshin in that box! Na, the diel a pickle sneeshin shall ever go into it till the King be restored; and then, I trust in God, I’ll go to London, and then I will put sneeshin in the box, and go to the Prince, and say, ‘Sir, will you take a sneeshin out o’ my box?’”--_Jacobite Memoirs._

Burke, the other trust-worthy individual, who was a native of North Uist, skulked about the hill of Eval, in his native island, for seven weeks, living part of the time on sea-weed and limpets. He afterwards took refuge in a cave, and, when the troubles had subsided, went to Edinburgh, where, unheeded, he spent the remainder of his days as a sedan-carrier or chairman.

[1247] Flora Macdonald’s Narrative. Home’s Works, vol. iii. App. No. 45.

[1248] Father of the well-known Marshal Macdonald, Duke of Tarentum.

[1249] The letter by Armadale to his wife, was as follows:--

“I have sent your daughter from this country lest she should be any way frightened with the troops lying here. She has got one Betty Burke, an Irish girl, who, as she tells me, is a good spinster. If her spinning pleases you, you may keep her till she spin all your lint; or, if you have any wool to spin, you may employ her. I have sent Neil Mackechan along with your daughter, and Betty Burke to take care of them.--I am your dutiful husband,

“HUGH MACDONALD.”

“_June 22, 1746._”

It has been suspected that Armadale was privy to his step-daughter’s design.

[1250] _Kirkconnel MS._

[1251] Soon after this occurrence, Lady Clanranald was taken prisoner, and sent to London. On 1st November, Clanranald, and Boisdale his brother were also apprehended, and shipped for London. They were discharged in the month of June following.

[1252] A few days after parting with Charles, this trusty officer being betrayed by a person in whom he had confided, was taken prisoner. Being brought before Captain Ferguson, and refusing to give any information about the prince, he was stripped, ordered to be put into a rack, and to be whipt. When the last part of this order was about to be executed, he was saved from the intended ignominy by a lieutenant of the Scotch Fusileers, who, drawing his sword, threatened Ferguson with his vengeance if he used an officer in such an infamous manner. O’Neil says that, four days after he was taken, General Campbell sent him word, upon his parole of honour, that if he had any money or effects in the country, and would send them to him, they should be safe; and that as he had always imagined that the word of honour was as sacredly kept in the English army as in others, he went with a detachment for his money and gold watch, which he had hid among the rocks; that he sent to General Campbell by Captain Campbell of Skipness, 450 guineas, his gold watch, broadsword and pistols; but that although he repeatedly applied to him to return him his property, he never obtained it!--O’Neil’s Narrative in _Jacobite Memoirs_.

[1253] Roy Macdonald’s Narrative among the _Forbes Papers_.

[1254] _Genuine and True Journal_, p. 29.

[1255] “Donald Macleod said the prince used to smoke a great deal of tobacco; and as in his wanderings from place to place the pipes behoved to break and turn into short _cutties_, he used to take quills, and putting one into another, ‘and all,’ said Donald, ‘into the end of the _cutty_, this served to make it long enough, and the tobacco to smoke cool.’ Donald added, that he never knew, in all his life, any one better at finding out a shift than the prince was, when he happened to be at a pinch, and that the prince would sometimes sing them a song to keep up their hearts.”--_Jacobite Memoirs_, p. 401.

[1256] Boswell’s _Tour_.

[1257] When Dr. Johnson visited Kingsburgh, in company with Mr. Boswell, in 1774, he slept in the same bed that Charles had occupied twenty-eight years before. “To see (says Boswell) Dr. Samuel Johnson in that bed, in the isle of Skye, in the house of Miss Flora Macdonald, struck me with such a group of ideas, as it is not easy for words to describe, as they passed through the mind. He smiled and said, ‘I have had no ambitious thoughts in it.’”--_Tour to the Hebrides._

[1258] Donald Roy’s Narrative among the _Forbes Papers_.

[1259] Donald Roy’s Narrative.

[1260] Macleod’s _Narrative_.

[1261] Boswell’s _Tour_.

[1262] “John Mackenzie is alive (in 1774); I saw him at Raasay’s house. About eighteen years ago he hurt one of his legs when dancing, and being obliged to have it cut off, he now was going about with a wooden leg. The story of his being a _Member of Parliament_ is not yet forgotten. I took him out a little way from the house, gave him a shilling to drink Raasay’s health, and led him into a detail of the particulars which I have just related. With less foundation, some writers have traced the idea of a Parliament, and of the British Constitution in rude and early times. I was curious to know if he had really heard or understood any thing of that subject, which, had he been a greater man, would probably have been eagerly maintained. ‘Why, John,’ said I, ‘did you think he should be controlled by a Parliament?’ He answered, ‘I thought, Sir, there were many voices against one.’”--_Boswell._

[1263] Idem, p. 227. _Jacobite Memoirs_, p. 270.

[1264] Boswell’s _Tour_.

[1265] _Jacobite Memoirs_, p. 478.

[1266] _Jacobite Memoirs_, pp. 477-8.

[1267] Idem. p. 480.

[1268] _Jacobite Memoirs_, p. 482. Boswell, in his _Tour_, gives a different version of this story. “After this (breakfast) there came in an old woman, who, after the mode of ancient hospitality, brought warm water, and washed Malcolm’s feet. He desired her to wash the feet of the poor man who attended him. She at first seemed averse to this from pride, as thinking him beneath her, and in the periphrastic language of the Highlanders and the Irish, said warmly, ‘Though I wash your father’s son’s feet, why should I wash his father’s son’s feet?’ She was, however, persuaded to do it.”

[1269] The following is a copy of the note:--

“SIR,--I thank God I am in good health, and have got off as designed. Remember me to all friends, and thank them for the trouble they have been at.--I am, Sir, your humble servant.

“JAMES THOMSON.”

“ELLIGHIUL, _July 4th, 1746_.”

[1270] This ‘cutty,’ as a small tobacco-pipe, almost worn to the stump, is called in Scotland, was presented by Malcolm, when at London, to Dr. Burton of York, a fellow-prisoner, who got a fine shagreen case made for it.--_Jacobite Memoirs_, p. 487. Mr. Boswell gives the following sketch of this worthy Highlander in his Tour to the Hebrides: “He was now (1774) sixty-two years of age, hale and well proportioned, with a manly countenance, tanned by the weather, yet having a ruddiness in his cheeks, over a great part of which his rough beard extended. His eye was quick and lively, yet his look was not fierce; but he appeared at once firm and good-humoured. He wore a pair of brogues, tartan hose which came up nearly to his knees, a purple camblet kilt, a black waistcoat, a short green cloth coat bound with gold cord, a yellow bushy wig, a large blue bonnet with a gold thread button. I never saw a figure which gave a more perfect representation of a Highland gentleman. I wished much to have a picture of him just as he was. I found him frank and polite in the true sense of the word.”

[1271] True Journal, p. 47.

[1272] The subsequent history of the estimable Flora Macdonald may be stated in a few words. After her return to Skye, she married, in 1750, young Macdonald of Kingsburgh, whom she accompanied to North Carolina, America, probably in 1774. Young Kingsburgh joined the Royal Highland Emigrant Regiment, embodied in 1775, but was taken prisoner in 1776 and committed to Halifax gaol. He afterwards served with the regiment in Canada, holding the rank of captain, and, at the close of the war, returned to Scotland on half-pay. The vessel in which Flora and her husband sailed was attacked by a French privateer, and while Flora, with characteristic spirit, stood on deck, animating the seamen, she was thrown down and had her arm broken. The wanderers, however, arrived in Skye, and never afterwards left it. Flora died on the 4th of March 1790, aged 68, and was interred in the churchyard of Kilmuir, in a spot set apart for the graves of the Kingsburgh family. Kingsburgh died on the 20th September 1795. Flora had seven children--five sons and two daughters; the sons all became officers in the army, and the daughters officers’ wives. Dr. Johnson and Boswell visited Skye in the autumn of 1773, and were entertained at Kingsburgh house by Flora and her husband. Flora, then aged about 51, is described by Johnson as a woman of middle stature, soft features, gentle manners, and elegant presence; and by Boswell as “a little woman, of a genteel appearance, and uncommonly mild and well-bred.”--See Carruthers’ Edition of Boswell’s _Tour to the Hebrides_, p. 143.

[1273] _Jacobite Memoirs_, pp. 488-90, 492.

[1274] _Jacobite Memoirs_, p. 494.

[1275] Author of the Journal and Memoirs, printed among the Lockhart papers, beginning at p. 579.

[1276] Mr. Home mentions an interview with one Macraw in the Braes of Kintail, which is not even alluded to in the narrative of the prince’s escape, drawn up by Glenaladale and others, and printed among the _Lockhart Papers_. If such an interview took place, its omission can only be fairly accounted for by supposing that the writer of that part of the narrative (Captain Alexander Macdonald, a younger brother of the Laird of Dallely,) was not aware of it. The following is Mr. Home’s account of this affair:--

“After having crossed the line of posts, Glenaladale, thinking the West Highlands a very unsafe place for Charles, resolved to conduct him to the Ross-shire Highlands, amongst those Mackenzies who remained loyal, and therefore were not visited with troops. These Mackenzies, Glenaladale thought, would not betray Charles; and the person whom he had pitched upon to confide in was Sir Alexander Mackenzie of Coul. Charles and his attendants, setting out for Ross-shire on foot, suffered greatly in their journey from want of provisions; and when they came to the Braes of Kintail, inhabited by the Macraws, a barbarous people, among whom there are but few gentlemen, necessity obliged them to call at the house of one Christopher Macraw. Glenaladale, leaving Charles and the French officer at some distance, went to Macraw’s house, and told him that he and two of his friends were like to perish for want of food, and desired him to furnish them with some victuals, for which they would pay. Macraw insisted upon knowing who his two friends were, which Glenaladale seemed unwilling to tell. Macraw still insisted, and Glenaladale told him at last that it was young Clan Ronald and a relation of his. Notwithstanding the consequence of the persons, Macraw, though rich for an ordinary Highlander, made Glenaladale pay very dear for some provisions he gave him. Having received the money, he grew better humoured, and desired Glenaladale and the other two to pass the night in his house, which they did. In the course of the conversation they talked of the times, and Macraw exclaimed against the Highlanders who had taken arms with Charles, and said that they and those who still protected him were fools and madmen; that they ought to deliver themselves and their country from distress by giving him up, and taking the reward which government had offered. That night a Macdonald who had been in the rebel army came to Macraw’s house. At first sight he knew Charles, and took an opportunity of warning Glenaladale to take care that Christopher should not discover the quality of his guest.”

[1277] _Kirkconnel MS._

[1278] Chisholm was at Edinburgh many years after the rebellion, and was visited by several persons out of curiosity, some of whom gave him money. In shaking hands with his benefactors he always gave the left hand, and excused himself for offering that hand by stating that as he had shaken hands at parting with the prince, he was resolved never to give his right hand to any man till he saw the prince again.

[1279] Chambers’s _Rebellion_. Stewart’s _Sketches_, i. 59.

[1280] The party in question consisted of about two hundred of Lord Loudon’s Highlanders, under Captain Grant of Knockando, Strathspey.

[1281] Appendix to Home’s Works, vol. iii. No. 46. Cluny himself had several places of concealment on his estate. “He lived for nine years chiefly in a cave, at a short distance from his house, which was burnt to the ground by the king’s troops. This cave was in the front of a woody precipice, the trees and shelving rocks completely concealing the entrance. It was dug out by his own people, who worked by night, and conveyed the stones and rubbish into a lake in the neighbourhood, in order that no vestige of their labour might betray the retreat of their master. In this sanctuary he lived secure, occasionally visiting his friends by night, or when time had slackened the rigour of the search. Upwards of one hundred persons knew where he was concealed, and a reward of £1,000 was offered to any one who should give information against him; and as it was known that he was concealed on his estate, eighty men were constantly stationed there, besides the parties occasionally marching into the country to intimidate his tenantry, and induce them to disclose the place of his concealment. But though the soldiers were animated with the hope of the reward, and though a step of promotion to the officer who should apprehend him was superadded, yet so true were his people, so strict to their promise of secrecy, and so dexterous in conveying to him the necessaries he required, in his long confinement, that not a trace of him could be discovered, nor an individual found base enough to give a hint to his detriment. At length, wearied out with this dreary and hopeless state of existence, and taught to despair of pardon, he escaped to France in 1755, and died there the following year.”--_Stewart’s Sketches_, 3d Edition, vol. i. p. 62.

“The late Sir Hector Munro, then a lieutenant in the 34th regiment, and from his zeal and knowledge of the country and the people, intrusted with the command of a large party, continued two whole years in Badenoch, for the purpose of discovering the chief’s retreat. The unwearied vigilance of the clan could alone have saved him from the diligence of this party. At night Cluny came from his retreat to vary the monotony of his existence, by spending a few of the dark hours convivially with his friends. On one occasion he had been suspected, and got out by a back window just as the military were breaking open the door. At another time, seeing the windows of a house kept close, and several persons going to visit the family after dark, the commander broke in at the window of the suspected chamber, with two loaded pistols, and thus endangered the life of a lady newly delivered of a child, on account of whose confinement these suspicious circumstances had taken place. This shows that there was no want of diligence on the part of the pursuers. Cluny himself became so cautious, while living the life of an outlaw, that on parting with his wife, or his most attached friends, he never told them to which of his concealments he was going, or suffered any one to accompany him,--thus enabling them, when questioned, to answer, that they knew not where he was.”--_Idem._

It may be here stated _en passant_ that Cluny did not leave Scotland from his “dreary and hopeless state of existence,” but in compliance with a special request made to him by Prince Charles. See a letter from the prince to Cluny, of 4th Sept., 1754, among the _Stuart Papers_.

[1282] Vide several letters from Colonel Warren to the Chevalier de St. George and others, among _Stuart Papers_.