Remarks, etc., and PARTICULAR SAYINGS of some who were concerned in the Prince's preservation. Leith, Citadel, July 20, 1747.
1747 20 July
Tis pity that Captain O'Neil has not been more particular in his journal, for he has not so much as mentioned the necessity the Prince was in to disguise himself in a female dress, which serves to explain his distress and danger as much as any thing can do. Besides by studying too much brevity he has altogether omitted several remarkable particulars which he minutely described to those he conversed familiarly with both in the Castle of Edinburgh,[85] and after he was set at liberty. He used to tell that when he was along with the Prince they happen'd to be twice within a gun-shot of parties of the enemy, [fol. 190.] that he quite despair'd of being any longer kept out of their clutches, and that he failed not to represent to the Prince the impossibility of not falling into the enemy's hands. 'The Prince,' said he, 'always reproved me for my desponding thoughts, and endeavoured to encourage me in times of the greatest danger by saying, "O'Neil, is this all the faith and trust you have in God? Let us only take care to have enough of faith and trust in his providence and there is no fear of us at all. Pull up your spirits, man. Never despair."' O'Neil frankly own'd that in place of his being useful to the Prince by endeavouring to comfort and support him when dangers thicken'd upon them, the Prince had the like good offices to perform to him, and that he frequently exerted himself in different shapes to raise his spirits. One time having nothing to eat for about two days but some mouldy dirty crumbs in O'Neil's pocket, they luckily happened at last to come to a very mean cottage where they found only an old poor woman who received them kindly, and gave each of them two eggs and a piece of bear-bannocks, but having not so much in her hut as a cup of cold water to give them to put down their morsel, she told them that some lasses had lately gone up the hill to milk the goats, etc., and that if they would follow them, probably they might have a drink of milk from them. The advice was very seasonable, and away they went, the honest old woman directing them the way they should go. [fol. 191.] The Prince skipped so speedily up the hill that O'Neil could not keep up with him. The lasses gave them plenty of milk, and poor O'Neil lay along among the grass, being quite undone with fatigue and fear. The Prince did all he could to rouse him up both by arguing and joking with him; but all to no purpose. At last the Prince turning from him, said, 'Come, my lasses, what would you think to dance a Highland reel with me? We cannot have a bag-pipe just now, but I shall sing you a Strathspey reel.' The dance went merrily on, and the Prince skipped so nimbly, knocking his thumbs and clapping his hands that O'Neil was soon surprized out of his thoughtful mood, being ashamed to remain any longer in the dumps when his Prince had been at so much pains to divert his melancholy. He was sure he said that the Prince entred into this frolick merely upon his account, for that there could be no dancing at his heart, seeing at that time they knew not where to move one foot. The Captain used to say he believed there was not such another man in all the world as the Prince.
It is worth noticing too that O'Neil has not mentioned his going on board with O'Sullivan after parting with the Prince, and how he was taken prisoner upon his coming ashore again about something they wanted to have, how he was very [fol. 192.] roughly used, particularly by some of the Campbells, who took from him his gold and watch, and every valuable thing about him, and how he was stript naked and threatened (if he would not tell where the Prince was to be found) with being put into that racking machine which Barisdale invented and made use of to extort confession from thieves, and in which one could not live above one hour.[86] But perhaps the Captain reserves these and some other points to be the subject-matter of another Journal when he comes to a country where he can make a plain declaration of all that he knows with freedom and safety.
Captain O'Neil had very great difficulty to prevail upon Miss MacDonald to undertake being guardian to the Prince. She was not only frighten'd at the hazards and dangers attending such a bold enterprize, but likewise insisted upon the risque she would run of losing her character in a malicious and ill-natured world. The Captain was at some pains to represent to her the glory and honour she would acquire by such a worthy and heroic action, and he hoped God would make her successful in it. 'You need not fear your character,' said he, 'for by [fol. 193.] this you will gain yourself an immortal character. But if you will still entertain fears about your character, I shall (by an oath) marry you directly, if you please.' After she had consented O'Neil then thought it a proper time to say something for himself, and earnestly begged that he himself might have the happiness of being taken under her tuition. But she positively refused to grant his request. At last he became so pressing in his suit that he fell down upon his knees and prayed her to consider his case and the desire he had to share in the Prince's fate whatever it should be. She steadily resisted all his importunities and judiciously remarked to him that the safety of the Prince depended much upon few being in company, that she could more easily undertake the preservation of one than of two or more; and therefore she desired that he might not insist upon that point, for if he should she resolv'd not to embark in the affair at all. He found himself obliged to desist, and owned afterwards upon reflection the wisdom of her resolution.
Her step-father (Hugh MacDonald of Armadale in Sky) did really serve her with a passport, although at that time he was captain of militia, and had a command of Sir Alexander's men in South Uist in order to prevent the Prince's escape. He [fol. 194.] is reckoned the strongest man of all the name of MacDonald, as I have more than once heard Kingsburgh declare, and his strength of mind seems to bear proportion to the strength of his body. He was obliged for some time to keep out of the way till the suspicion of the passport began to be forgot. But every one would not have been desirous of the task to lay hands on him; for he never quit with his arms when he was skulking, and the people in Sky stood in awe of him. Before they went to the boat the Prince renewed the request about O'Neil's going along; but Miss wisely persisted in her former resolution and would not hear of the proposal, though the Prince pressed the matter with great earnestness.
In the Journal taken from the mouths of the Laird of MacKinnon, Malcolm MacLeod, etc., Miss MacDonald has omitted several things which she particularly mentioned to those who conversed with her when she was lying in the Road of Leith on board the Eltham and the Bridgewater ships of war. She told that when the Prince put on women's cloaths he proposed carrying a pistol under one of his petticoats for making some small defence in case of an attack. But Miss declared against it, alleging that if any person should happen to search them the pistol would only serve to make a discovery. [fol. 195.] To which the Prince replied merrily: 'Indeed, Miss, if we shall happen to meet with any that will go so narrowly to work in searching as what you mean they will certainly discover me at any rate.' But Miss would not hear of any arms at all, and therefore the Prince was obliged to content himself with only a short heavy cudgel, with which he design'd to do his best to knock down any single person that should attack him.
She us'd likewise to tell that in their passage to the Isle of Sky a heavy rain fell upon them, which with former fatigues distressed her much. To divert her the Prince sung several pretty songs. She fell asleep, and to keep her so, the Prince still continued to sing. Happening to awake with some little bustle in the boat she found the Prince leaning over her with his hands spread about her head. She asked what was the matter? The Prince told her that one of the rowers being obliged to do somewhat about the sail behoved to step over her body (the boat was so small), and lest he should have done her hurt either by stumbling or trampling upon her in the dark [fol. 196.] (for it was night) he had been doing his best to preserve his guardian from harm. When Miss MacDonald was telling this particular part of the adventure to some ladies that were paying their respects to her on board the Bridgewater in Leith Road, some of them with raptures cried out: 'O Miss, what a happy creature are you who had that dear Prince to lull you asleep, and to take such care of you with his hands spread about your head, when you was sleeping! You are surely the happiest woman in the world!' 'I could,' says one of them,[87] 'wipe your shoes with pleasure, and think it my honour so to do, when I reflect that you had the honour to have the Prince for your handmaid. We all envy you greatly.' Much about the same time a lady of rank and dignity,[88] being on board with Miss MacDonald in the foresaid ship, a brisk gale began to blow and make the sea rough, and not so easy for a small boat to row to Leith. The lady whispered to Miss MacDonald that she would with pleasure stay on board all night that she might have it to say that she had the honour of lying in the same bed with that person who had been so happy as to be [fol. 197.] guardian to her Prince. Accordingly they did sleep in one bed that night. Several ladies[89] made valuable presents to Miss MacDonald, viz., gowns, skirts, headsutes, shoes, stockings, etc., etc. Commodore Smith made her a present when she was in Leith Road of a handsome sute of riding-cloaths, with plain mounting, and some fine linen for riding shirts, as also a gown to her woman (Kate MacDonal) and some linen to be shirts for poor Kate, who could not talk one word of English, being a native of Sky, and who generously offered herself to Miss MacDonald when she could get not one that would venture to go with her.
The Prince gave to Miss MacDonald the garters he wore with the woman's cloaths, which were French, of blue velvet covered upon one side with white silk, and fastened with buckles. Miss MacDonald's brother (son of honest Armadale) coming south to find a passage for Holland, where he was to enter into the Dutch service, brought these garters along with him, and deposited them in the hands of a friend[90] in Leith, to be kept for his sister till she should be so happy as to return from London. He said his sister had writ from the Road of Leith to Sky concerning the garters, intreating they might be carefully preserved, for that she put a great value upon them.
When Miss MacDonald was a prisoner she happened in coursing about from place to place to fall in luckily with [fol. 198.] Captain O'Neil, then a prisoner likewise, to whom she made up, and giving him a gentle slap upon the cheek with the loof of her hand, said, 'To that black face do I owe all my misfortune.' The captain with a smile replied, 'Why, Madam, what you call your misfortune is truly your greatest honour. And if you be careful to demean yourself agreeably to the character you have already acquired, you will in the event find it to be your happiness.' She told him she was much afraid they designed to carry her to London, which she could not think of but with the utmost uneasiness, not knowing what might turn out to be the consequence. Upon this O'Neil told her that he would take upon him to commence prophet in the case, and to foretell what would happen to her. 'For,' said he, 'if you are carried to London I can venture to assure you it will be for your interest and happiness; and instead of being afraid of this you ought to wish for it. There you will meet with much respect and very good and great friends for what you have done. Only be careful to make all your conduct of a piece. Be not frighten'd by the thoughts of your present circumstances either to say or do anything that may in the [fol. 199.] least tend to contradict or sully the character you are now[91] mistress of, and which you can never be robbed of but by yourself. Never once pretend (through an ill-judg'd excess of caution and prudence) to repent or be ashamed of what you have done, and I dare take upon me to answer for the rest. I do not think (added he) that the Government can be so very barbarous and cruel as to bring you to a trial for your life, and therefore I hope you have nothing to fear, and that things will happen to you as I have said.'
Captain O'Neil was wont to tell those who visited him in the Castle of Edinburgh that he had been at the same pains as a parent would be with a child to lay down rules to Miss MacDonald for her future behaviour under the misfortune of being a prisoner, and that it gave him infinite pleasure to find that things had happened to her hitherto according to his words, and to hear by all the accounts he could learn that she had sacredly observed the advices he had given her. He frequently expressed his heartiest wishes that she might get free of all her troubles, and arrive at that which so justly she deserved.
When Miss MacDonald was on board the Bridgewater in Leith Road, accounts had come that the Prince was taken prisoner, and one of the officers had brought the news of this report on board. She got an opportunity of talking privately to some who were then visiting her, and said with tears in her eyes, 'Alas, I am afraid that now all is in vain that I have [fol. 200.] done. The Prince at last is in the hands of his enemies.' Though at that time great fear was entertained about the truth of this account, yet those that were with Miss MacDonald endeavoured all they could to chear her up, and to dissuade her from believing any such thing. But still fears haunted her mind till the matter was cleared up and the contrary appeared.
Miss MacDonald is Protestant, and is descended of the family of Clanranald by her father, and of an Episcopal clergyman by her mother. She is daughter of the deceast Ranald MacDonald of Milton in South Uist, in which island (when the Prince was skulking thereabouts) she happened to be visiting her brother-german who had a little before taken up house at Milton. She was not many days there till she was engaged in the hazardous enterprize; and when she returned to her mother in Sky, the honest old woman was surprized to see her, and asked the reason why she had made such a short stay with her brother. Miss replied that things being in a hurry and confusion in South Uist, with such a number of military folks, she was uneasy till she got out of it; but she never once hinted at the adventure she had so successfully managed, of which the mother knew nothing at all till a party came to take the daughter prisoner, although Miss had been with her [fol. 201.] mother eight or ten days before she was seized. Immediately Miss Flora was hurried on board of a sloop of war without being allowed the priviledge of taking leave of her mother, or telling her anything of the matter, or taking along with herself one stitch to change another. The sloop called the Greyhound, or rather the Furnace, was commanded by John Ferguson of Aberdeenshire,[92] a man remarkably rigid and severe in his way, but one of too much greedy sense to have butchered the Prince if he had fallen into his hands. For when he was asked by a friend of his own[93] in Edinburgh what he would have done with the Prince had he got him into his clutches, whether or not he would have dispatched him, he answered, 'No (by G——), I would have been so far from doing any such thing that I would have preserved him as the apple of mine eye, for I would not take any man's word, no, not the Duke of Cumberland's for £30,000 Sterling, though I knew many to be such fools as to do it.' Ferguson was more [fol. 202.] than once (as he thought) within an hour of catching the Prince, so closely he pursued the royal wanderer, and such an anxiety he had to touch the price of blood.
It was Miss MacDonald's good fortune to be soon removed out of the hands of Ferguson into those of the polite and generous Commodore Smith, who, in the coursing about, obtained leave of General Campbell to allow Miss to go ashore to visit her mother and to seek a servant to attend her in the state of confinement. Then it was that poor Kate MacDonal generously made an offer to run all risques with the captive lady, who gladly accepted.
One day in the Road of Leith a lady[94] asking Miss if she had any books on board, she said she had only a prayer book, but regreted much the want of a bible, which that lady soon furnished her with in a present in two pretty pocket volumes, handsomely bound. That she might have some innocent and useful employment for her time, care was taken by a lady[95] to send her a thimble, needles, white thread of different sorts, etc., with some linen and cambrick cut and shaped according [fol. 203.] to the newest fashions. This piece of friendship Miss Flora admired as much as any instance of kindness and regard that had been shown her, because all the time she had been in custody she was quite idle, having no work to do, and thereby time pass'd very dully on.
While she was in the Road of Leith, from the beginning of September to the 7th of November, she never was allowed to set her foot once on shore, though in other respects the officers were extremely civil and complaisant to her, and took it exceedingly well when any persons came to visit her. Sometimes they were so obliging as to come ashore for good company to attend her, and frequently declared that if they knew any person to come on board out of curiosity and not out of respect for Miss MacDonald, that person should not have access to her. This genteel behaviour makes it to be presumed that their orders were so exceedingly strict that they could not dare to bring her ashore. Commodore Smith (Commander of the Eltham) behaved like a father to her, and tendered her many good advices as to her behaviour in her ticklish situation; and Captain Knowler of the Bridgewater used her with the utmost decency and politeness. When company came to visit her she was indulged the privilege by both these humane and well-bred gentlemen to call for anything on board as if [fol. 204.] she had been at her own fireside, and the servants of the cabin were obliged to give her all manner of attendance; and she had the liberty to invite any of her friends to dine with her when she pleased. Her behaviour in company was so easy, modest, and well-adjusted that every visitant was much surprized; for she had never been out of the islands of South Uist and Sky till about a year before the Prince's arrival that she had been in the family of MacDonald of Largie in Argyllshire for the space of ten or eleven months; and during her confinement she had been all along on board a ship of war till she went to London.
Some that went on board to pay their respects to her, used to take a dance in the cabin, and to press her much to share with them in the diversion. But with all their importunity they could not prevail with her to take a trip. She told them that at present her dancing days were done, and she would not readily entertain a thought of that diversion till she should be assured of her Prince's safety, and perhaps not till she should be bless'd with the happiness of seeing him again. Although she was easy and chearful, yet she had a certain mixture of gravity in all her behaviour which became her situation exceedingly well, and set her of to great advantage. She is [fol. 205.] of a low stature, of a fair complexion and well enough shap'd. One could not discern by her conversation that she had spent all her former days in the Highlands; for she talks English (or rather Scots) easily, and not at all through the Earse tone. She has a sweet voice and sings well; and no lady, Edinburgh bred, can acquit herself better at the tea-table than what she did when in Leith Road. Her wise conduct in one of the most perplexing scenes that can happen in life, her fortitude and good sense, are memorable instances of the strength of a female mind, even in those years that are tender and unexperienced. She is the delight of her friends and the envy of her enemies.
1746 29 June
When the Prince came to Kingsburgh's house (Sunday, June 29th) it was between ten and eleven at night; and Mrs. MacDonald, not expecting to see her husband that night was making ready to go to bed. One of her servant maids came and told her that Kingsburgh was come home and had brought some company with him. 'What company?' says Mrs. MacDonald. 'Milton's daughter, I believe,' says the maid, 'and some company with her.' 'Milton's daughter,' replies Mrs. MacDonald, 'is very welcome to come here with any company [fol. 206] she pleases to bring. But you'll give my service to her, and tell her to make free with anything in the house; for I am very sleepy and cannot see her this night.' In a little her own daughter came and told her in a surprize, 'O mother, my father has brought in a very odd, muckle, ill-shaken-up wife as ever I saw! I never saw the like of her, and he has gone into the hall with her.' She had scarce done with telling her tale when Kingsburgh came and desired his lady to fasten on her bucklings again, and to get some supper for him and the company he had brought with him. 'Pray, goodman,' says she, 'what company is this you have brought with you?' 'Why, goodwife,' said he, 'you shall know that in due time; only make haste and get some supper in the meantime.' Mrs. MacDonald desired her daughter to go and fetch her the keys she had left in the hall. When the daughter came to the door of the hall, she started back, ran to her mother and told her she could not go in for the keys, for the muckle woman was walking up and down in the hall, and she was so frighted at seeing her that she could not have the courage to enter. Mrs. MacDonald went herself to get the keys, and I heard her more than once declare that upon looking in at the door she had [fol. 207.] not the courage to go forward. 'For,' said she, 'I saw such an odd muckle trallup of a carlin, making lang wide steps through the hall that I could not like her appearance at all.' Mrs. MacDonald called Kingsburgh, and very seriously begged to know what a lang, odd hussie was this he had brought to the house; for that she was so frighted at the sight of her that she could not go into the hall for her keys. 'Did you never see a woman before,' said he, 'goodwife? What frights you at seeing a woman? Pray, make haste, and get us some supper.' Kingsburgh would not go for the keys, and therefore his lady behov'd to go for them. When she entered the hall, the Prince happen'd to be sitting; but immediately he arose, went forward and saluted Mrs. MacDonald, who, feeling a long stiff beard, trembled to think that this behoved to be some distressed nobleman or gentleman in disguise, for she never dream'd it to be the Prince, though all along she had been seized with a dread she could not account for from the moment she had heard that Kingsburgh had brought company with him. She very soon made out of the hall with her keys, never saying one word. Immediately she importun'd Kingsburgh to tell her who the person was, for that she was sure by the salute that it was some distressed gentleman. Kingsburgh smiled at [fol. 208.] the mention of the bearded kiss, and said: 'Why, my dear, it is the Prince. You have the honour to have him in your house.' 'The Prince,' cried she. 'O Lord, we are a' ruin'd and undone for ever! We will a' be hang'd now!' 'Hout, goodwife,' says the honest stout soul, 'we will die but ance; and if we are hanged for this, I am sure we die in a good cause. Pray, make no delay; go, get some supper. Fetch what is readiest. You have eggs and butter and cheese in the house, get them as quickly as possible.' 'Eggs and butter and cheese!' says Mrs. MacDonald, 'what a supper is that for a Prince?' 'O goodwife,' said he, 'little do you know how this good Prince has been living for some time past. These, I can assure you, will be a feast to him. Besides, it would be unwise to be dressing a formal supper, because this would serve to raise the curiosity of the servants, and they would be making their observations. The less ceremony and work the better. Make haste and see that you come to supper.' 'I come to supper!' says Mrs. MacDonald; 'how can I come to supper? I know not how to behave before Majesty.' 'You must come,' says Kingsburgh, 'for he will not eat a bit [fol. 209.] till he see you at the table; and you will find it no difficult matter to behave before him, so obliging and easy is he is in his conversation.'
The Prince ate of our roasted eggs, some collops, plenty of bread and butter, etc., and (to use the words of Mrs. MacDonald) 'the deel a drap did he want in's weam of twa bottles of sma beer. God do him good o't; for, well I wat, he had my blessing to gae down wi't.' After he had made a plentiful supper, he called for a dram; and when the bottle of brandy was brought, he said he would fill the glass for himself; 'for,' said he, 'I have learn'd in my skulking to take a hearty dram.' He filled up a bumper and drank it off to the happiness and prosperity of his landlord and landlady. Then taking a crack'd and broken pipe out of his poutch, wrapt about with thread, he asked Kingsburgh if he could furnish him with some tobacco; for that he had learn'd likewise to smoke in his wanderings. Kingsburgh took from him the broken pipe and laid it carefully up with the brogs, and gave him a new clean pipe and plenty of tobacco.
The Prince and Kingsburgh turn'd very familiar and merry together, and when the Prince spoke to Kingsburgh, he for the [fol. 210.] most part laid his hand upon Kingsburgh's knee and used several kind and obliging expressions in his conversation with the happy landlord. Kingsburgh remarked what a lucky thing it was that he happened to be at Mougstot (Sir Alexander MacDonald's house), and that it was all a matter of chance that he was there, for he had no design of being there that day. And then he asked the Prince what he would have done if he had not been at Mougstot. The Prince replied, 'Why, sir, you could not avoid being at Mougstot this day; for Providence ordered you to be there upon my account.' Kingsburgh became so merry and jocose that putting up his hand to the Prince's face, he turned off his head-dress which was a very odd clout of a mutch or toy; upon which Mrs. MacDonald hasted out of the room and brought a clean nightcap for him.
Both Kingsburgh and his lady said that the Prince's face and hands were very much sun-burnt. But they declared he had not a spot of the itch upon him, though a silly report had been raised by his malicious enemies that he was scabbed to the eye-holes. His legs, they said, were hacked in some parts, which was occasioned by his walking and sleeping so often in [fol. 211.] wet hose. Mrs. MacDonald used the freedom to put up the sleeve of his gown and of his shirt (a very coarse dud), 'and there,' said she, 'I saw a bonny, clean, white skin indeed. The deel a lady in a' the land has a whiter and purer skin than he has.'
30 June
Next morning Mrs. MacDonald went to Miss Flora's bedside before she got up and asked of her an account of the adventure. Miss (among other things) told her that there was not any other probable way of saving the Prince but that single one which had been used, and that it had the appearance of a desperate attempt at best: that Lady Clanronald provided them with women's cloathes for the disguise, and that she had contributed all in her power for preserving the Prince out of the hands of his enemies. Mrs. MacDonald desired to know what was become of the boat and the rowers. 'They returned directly,' said Miss Flora, 'to South Uist.' Mrs. MacDonald declared great concern to hear that, because upon their return they would immediately be seized by the military and harshly used to tell what they knew. 'I wish,' said Mrs. MacDonald, 'you had sunk the boat and kept the boatmen in Sky where they could have been concealed, and then we would have known [fol. 212.] the better what to have done with the Prince, because his enemies by this means would have lost scent of him. But all will be wrong by their returning to South Uist.' 'I hope not,' said Miss, 'for we took care to depone them before they parted from us.' 'Alas!' replied Mrs. MacDonald, 'your deponing of them will not signifie a farthing. For if once the military get hold of them they will terrifie them out of their senses and make them forget their oath.'
As Mrs. MacDonald said, so it happened. The boatmen were made prisoners instantly upon their landing in South Uist and threatened with tortures if they did not declare everything they knew, which (to avoid pain, and perhaps death itself) they complied with. From their declaration no doubt it happen'd that his enemies could specifie the particular parts of the dress the Prince was disguised in, even to the nicety of telling the colour of the gown.
After Miss Flora had got up, Mrs. MacDonald told her that she wanted much to have a lock of the Prince's hair, and that she behoved to go into his room and get it for her. Miss Flora refused to do as she desired, because the Prince was not yet out of bed. 'What then,' said Mrs. MacDonald, 'no harm will happen to you. He is too good to harm you or any [fol. 213.] person. You must instantly go in and get me the lock.' Mrs. MacDonald, taking hold of Miss with one hand, knocked at the door of the room with the other. The Prince called, 'Who is there?' Mrs. MacDonald, opening the door, said, 'Sir, it is I, and I am importuneing Miss Flora to come in and get a lock of your hair to me, and she refuses to do it.' 'Pray,' said the Prince, 'desire Miss MacDonald to come in. What should make her afraid to come where I am?' When Miss came in he begged her to sit down on a chair at the bedside, then laying his arms about her waist, and his head upon her lap, he desired her to cut out the lock with her own hands in token of future and more substantial favours. The one half of the lock Miss gave to Mrs. MacDonald and the other she kept to herself. I heard Mrs. MacDonald say that when Miss Flora at any time happened to come into the room where the Prince was, he always rose from his seat, paid her the same respects as if she had been a queen, and made her sit on his right hand.
Kingsburgh visited the Prince before he got out of bed and asked how he had rested all night. 'Never better,' replied he, [fol. 214.] 'for I have rested exceedingly well, having slept, I believe, nine or ten hours without interruption.' Then it was that the conversation happened about Lord George Murray and the landing of the French, etc.[96]
When the Prince had got himself dress'd in the Highland cloaths at the side of the wood, he embraced Kingsburgh in his arms and bad him a long and a happy adieu, most affectionately thanking him for all his services, and assuring him he would never forget them. Then the Prince wept, and some drops of blood fell from his nose. Kingsburgh could not refrain from weeping too, and when he saw the blood, expressed his concern, dreading the Prince not to be in health with the fatigues, fastings, etc., he was obliged to undergo. The Prince assured him he was in very good health, and that this was no extraordinary thing with him at all. 'This,' said he, 'is only the effect of parting with a dear friend, and ordinarily it happens to me in such a case. Alas! Kingsburgh, I am afraid I shall not meet with another MacDonald in my difficulties.'[97] When Kingsburgh returned to his own house he told his lady that after the Prince had got on the Highland dress and the claymore in his hand he was a soger-like man indeed.
4 July
[fol. 215.] I heard Mrs. MacDonald of Kingsburgh say that she had the following particular from Malcolm MacLeod's own mouth before he was made prisoner. Malcolm went with the Prince and MacKinnon to the shore to see them fairly boated for the continent. When he was about to take leave of the Prince he spied some ships coming in sight and hovering about the coast. He intreated the Prince not to go on board for some time, but to wait till he should see how these ships steer'd their course; 'For just now,' said he, 'the wind blows so as to fetch them this way and to hinder your passing to the continent.' The Prince replied, 'Never fear, MacLeod, I'll go on board directly. The wind will change immediately and make these ships steer a contrary course. Providence will take care of me, and it will not be in the power of these ships to look near me at this time.' Malcolm MacLeod declared that the Prince's words made him astonished and determin'd him to sit down upon the shore to see what would happen. He said the Prince and his small retinue had not rowed many yards from the shore till the wind changed to a point directly opposite to what it had been, and [fol. 216.] blowing pretty briskly made the ships steer so as to be soon out of sight. Mr. MacLeod affirm'd that in all the course of his life he had never known any man that had such a firm trust and well-grounded confidence as the Prince was remarkably endued with.
Captain John Ferguson searched Sir Alexander MacDonald's house for the Prince, and in quest of him he came to Kingsburgh, where he examined Kingsburgh and his lady and their daughter, Miss Nanie MacDonald, alias Mrs. MacAllaster, for she is married. Kingsburgh told his lady that Captain Ferguson was come to examine her about some lodgers she had lately in her house, and desired her to be distinct in her answers. Mrs. MacDonald looking Ferguson broad in the face said, 'If Captain Ferguson is to be my judge, then God have mercy upon my soul.' Ferguson asked for what reason she spoke such words. 'Why, Sir,' said she, 'the world belies you if you be not a very cruel, hard-hearted man; and indeed I do not like to come through your hands.' Ferguson had nothing else to say for himself but the common saying, viz., That people should not believe all that the world says.
20 July
[fol. 217.] When Ferguson asked Kingsburgh where Miss MacDonald and the person along with her in woman's cloaths lay all night in his house, he answered, 'I know in what room Miss MacDonald herself lay, but where servants are laid when in my house, I know nothing of that matter, I never enquire anything about it. My wife is the properest person to inform you about that.' Then he had the impertinence to ask Mrs. MacDonald, Whether or not she had laid the young Pretender and Miss MacDonald in one bed? To which she answered, 'Sir, whom you mean by the young Pretender I shall not pretend to guess; but I can assure you it is not the fashion in the Isle of Sky to lay the mistress and the maid in the same bed together.' Then Ferguson desired to see the different rooms where their late lodgers had slept; and after seeing them he said, it was pretty remarkable that the room in which the maid had slept seem'd to look better than the one where the mistress had been laid; and this behoved to confirm him in the beief that it was the young Pretender in women's cloaths who had been along with Miss MacDonald. Kingsburgh's daughter said it could not be the person he meant in women's [fol. 218.] cloaths, for that she had heard that person ask something (a bottle of water) from Miss MacDonald in Erse. 'This,' says Ferguson, 'confirms me more and more in my opinion, for I have often heard that a fellow went to Rome some years agoe on purpose to teach the young Pretender the Erse language.' This, by the bye, is a gross mistake in Ferguson; for the Prince could not speak a word of Erse till he arriv'd in Scotland, and he knew but very little of it till he was forced to commence wanderer for the preservation of his life, and then he learned to speak it pretty well, which prov'd of very great use to him.
When Kingsburgh and Miss MacDonald were made prisoners and brought before General Campbell (which happened at different times) both of them honestly own'd the parts they had acted, and, if I rightly remember, declarations were written from their own mouths and they subscribed them.
N.B.—Miss Flora MacDonald called her disguised handmaid Bettie Bourk, or Burk, an Irish name, and made the dress of a piece with the proposed character, being a hood with a long mantle almost down to the heel.[98]
Robert Forbes. A.M.
Mr. Cameron of Glenevis[99] gave the following Narrative to several persons in Edinburgh after his liberation out of the Castle of Edinburgh, which happened some time in the beginning of July 1747. He said—
August 1646
[fol. 219.] Lord George Sackville with a command of 400 men was ordered from Fort Augustus to gather up the gleanings of the cattle that might happen to be left in the countries that had been plundered and pillaged. When he was at Locharkaig the Prince and his small retinue had been thirty or forty hours without any meat. One evening they spied Lord George and his command driving away the cattle they had pick'd up here and there. They were then consulting with one another what was fittest to be done to procure themselves some provisions in this extremity, and it was proposed that they should go to a place at the distance of sixteen miles from them. The Prince objected against this measure alleging that the journey was too long for them in their present distressed condition, and that perhaps they might be disappointed of their intention when they should come to the place spoken of. 'What would ye think, gentlemen,' said he, 'of lifting some of the cattle we [fol. 220.] spied under a command this evening? They are not far from us, and I hope we will succeed in the design, for the gloom of the night will favour us in the attempt.' His companions looked upon the enterprize as too hazardous, and could not think at all of running such a risque. But the Prince still insisted upon it as the best expedient they could pitch upon in the present difficulty, and said, 'If the dangers attending this expedition be all that can be said against it, I myself will be one of the number that will made the attempt.' Upon this four of the company declared they would gladly go along with him and try what they could do. Away they went, and (as the Prince had suggested) by the favour of the dark night they brought off six cows without being in the least discovered—a most lucky and plentiful supply in such necessitous circumstances.
July
N.B.—Though Glenevis had never join'd the Prince, but had lived peaceably at home, and though no overt act could be proved against him, yet his conduct could not screen him from cruel treatment. All his effects were plundered and pillaged, his houses burnt down to the ground, and he himself suffered imprisonment for eleven or twelve months, and was [fol. 221.] not released till by a petition presented before the lords of justiciary he pled the benefit of the indemnity.
N.B.—Among the several remarkable and lesser circumstances of Kingsburgh's history I have forgot to mention some which are well worth remarking, and are as follows:—
When Kingsburgh came to Fort Augustus he was immediately ordered into the provo's guard, where the common fellows took the buckles out of his shoes, the garters from his legs, and his watch and money out of his pockets, a ceremony, it seems, preparatory to one's being taken out to be hang'd; at least Kingsburgh looked upon it as such. 'For,' said he, 'I expected every moment to be ordered out to end my life on a gibbet, and I laid my account with it.' After staying there for some hours he was then ordered to be thrown into a dungeon with heavy irons upon him, which he looked upon as a change to the better by reason of the insults, the opprobrious and blasphemous language, he behoved to endure from the common fellows.
When Kingsburgh was removed from Fort Augustus he was brought to Edinburgh under a guard of Kingston's Light horse, who entered the city with sound of trumpet and beat of kettle-drums, a circumstance very much noticed by everybody as a [fol. 222.] form of procession quite unusual for the bringing a prisoner into a metropolis. The command halted a considerable time upon the street of Edinburgh till further orders should be got, when the mob came flocking about them, and some of them said, 'What can be the matter with this honest-like, well-looking man that he is brought here a prisoner? Show your face, honest man, to the world, for, faith, you may be seen as well as the best of them all.' Then Kingsburgh was put into the same room of the Castle with Major MacDonell, George Moir, the Laird of Leckie, Mr. Thomas Ogilvie, etc., where he thought himself very happy indeed; but that happiness did not last long.
One day when I was visiting him and his fellow-prisoners, one of them happened to be complaining of the hardships of their situation, saying, 'Is not this a dull and uncomfortable state to be pacing up and down this room, waiting the freak and humour of an officer to let us out when he thinks fit to walk for an hour or so within the narrow bounds of the Half-moon?' Kingsburgh gently check'd him for his complaining, and said, 'Do not complain, Sir, for there are many situations far worse than ours. Had you been only in my condition at Fort Augustus you would have experienc'd a very great odds. [fol. 223.] When I was taken out of the provo's guard and put into the dungeon with irons upon me, I thought myself happy; but when I was removed to a room and the irons taken off me, though I was not allowed to step over the threshold, I thought myself in a kind of paradise. And now that I am here and in exceeding good company (a happiness I had not before) I think myself still more and more in a paradise. I am really content. I am quite satisfied with my condition, if they will only allow me to stay with this good company. And what do you think, Sir, of the liberty of walking upon the Half-moon, tho' it were but for an hour or two at a time? I do assure you this is no small happiness in a state of confinement. What would I have given for such a liberty at Fort Augustus?' Kingsburgh was not allowed to make a long abode with his agreeable companions, for he was soon removed to a room by himself under a strict and close confinement, not having the liberty to step over the threshold of his door, and no person being allowed to come near him but the officer upon guard, the serjeant, and the keeper that was appointed to attend him as a servant.
When his lady came to Edinburgh she was not allowed access [fol. 224.] to him, but only to stand upon the parade and see her husband looking down to her through the grate of a window, the officers and sogers witnessing their enquiring about ane another's welfare. At last Kingsburgh fell so ill in his health that a physician and surgeon behoved to have access to him, but always in presence of an officer. Then his lady after many and earnest solicitations obtained the privilege of being with him throughout the day, but was obliged to leave him upon the approach of the evening. When he was recovering he was allowed to step out, only once or twice a week, with an officer attending him, to take a walk in the garden or any other by-place of the Castle, not being indulged the pleasure of seeing the other prisoners or of walking on the same spot with them; till some short time before his releasement that he was permitted now and then to be on the Half-moon with them. All the reason that ever could be discovered for this severity and strictness upon Kingsburgh was this. When he was in the same room with Major MacDonell, Leckie, etc., many persons came to pay their respects to him, and to hear his story, which he very plainly and honestly gave, at the same time never [fol. 225.] failing to give an exact account of the Prince's adventures and chearful conduct in the course of his wanderings, as far as he had got any intelligence about them. This reaching the ears of those in power it proved not a little disgusting to them to hear such things as served to form a great and glorious character of the Prince, and therefore Kingsburgh behoved to suffer for narrating some stubborn, ill-manner'd truths, and to feel the effects of being a plain, honest man. Truth, tho' never so glaring, when it runs cross to the partial notions and inclinations of poor frail mortals, grates very hard and becomes a very uneasy and painful thing.
One day a gentleman happening to visit the lady prisoners upon the same stair where Kingsburgh endured his strict and close confinement, and spying Kingsburgh's room door to be open, he made a stop. Upon this the sentry, knowing the gentleman, whispered to him that as the keeper was employed in bringing some things to Kingsburgh the door would be open for some short time, and that he would allow him to step in and ask Kingsburgh about his welfare, provided that he would not sit down, but come [fol. 226.] as quickly as possible. Accordingly the gentleman went in and embracing Kingsburgh regreted this change in his condition. Kingsburgh smiled, and said, 'The Government little knows what pleasure this treatment gives me; for they are doing me much honour without designing it. They are at much pains to make me a considerable person. Little did I ever think that I was a man of such consequence that a whole Government should be so much taken up about me. If I am so lucky as to keep my health, this change shall give me no uneasiness.' Then he desired the gentleman to inform his companions in the other room that he was in very good health, and that he kept up his heart in his solitary state, and to forbid them to be any way uneasy about his solitary condition.
29 June
When the Prince was in Kingsburgh's house talking about the difficulties and dangers attending his situation, and consulting with him what might be the best and fittest expedient for the safety of his person, he suggested going to the Laird of MacLeod's house as by far the properest place that could be pitched upon, because it was not liable to any suspicion or jealousy [fol. 227.] upon the part of the Government, and therefore would not be searched for him. If he could only get there without discovery, he said, he thought he would be in absolute safety. Kingsburgh told him that he would not take upon him positively to oppose any measure the Prince was pleased to condescend upon for the preservation of his own person; but then, if his opinion could be of any use in the present case, he behoved to declare that he should never have his advice or approbation for going to the Laird of MacLeod's house at any rate.[100] The Prince in a surprize clapped his hand to his breast and said, 'What! Kingsburgh! Do you think that MacLeod to his other doings would add that of thirsting after my blood? Do you really think he would go the length of giving me up into the hands of my enemies?' Kingsburgh would not pretend to assign particular reasons for its not being advisable that the Prince should go to MacLeod's house; but still he assured him, it should never be with his consent. The Prince insisted no more upon this project, and dropt it altogether. This I had from Kingsburgh's own mouth, and his narrating of it consists with the knowledge of several others, particularly his fellow-prisoners.
Robert Forbes, A.M.
Leith, Friday's Evening, 6 o'clock, August 7th, 1747, in the house of James MacDonald, joiner, who and Stewart Carmichael of Bonnyhaugh, were present, Captain Malcolm Macleod,[101] second cousin to Malcolm Macleod (Laird of Raaza), gave the following Account or Journal.[102]
1747 20 July
30 June 1746.
[fol. 228.] By appointment the said Captain Malcolm MacLeod and Murdoch MacLeod, Raaza's third son, met the Prince at Pourttree, a publick house in the isle of Sky, upon Monday's night, June 30th, 1746. After taking leave of Kingsburgh at the side of a wood, the Prince[103] had set out directly for this place, where Miss Flora MacDonald (taking a different road) met him once more and bad farewel to him. Captain Malcolm MacLeod said he would not positively affirm whether it was Monday's night or Tuesday's morning when they met; 'But,' said he, 'it was dark.' Raaza's third son had been in the Prince's service, and had received a musket-shot through his shoulder at the battle of Culloden.[104]
1 July
Before these two gentlemen had set out from the island of Raaza in order to meet the Prince at Pourttree, the young [fol. 229.] Laird of Raaza, John MacLeod, came to the Captain and told him what a great anxiety he had to see that young man, the Prince. Malcolm MacLeod begged him to consider well what he was doing, that as he had not been out, he ought to run no risque for satisfying his desire, which at present could be of no real use or service, and therefore he suggested to him to act in this affair with the utmost prudence and caution. Meantime Malcolm could not help owning frankly that he himself heartily wished that his friend might see the Prince, provided he could do it with safety. But then he would leave it altogether to himself to determine on which side he should think fit to chuse. After thinking a while, young Raaza positively declared he was resolved to see the Prince if it should cost him the estate and the head, and accordingly accompanied his brother and the Captain to Pourttree[105] in a small boat that would contain only six or seven men with difficulty. Upon meeting with the Prince they spent very little time at Pourttree, but attended him soon to the same small boat; and the Captain did not introduce young Raaza to the Prince till they were in the boat.[106] Early in the morning, July 1st, they arrived at Glam, in Raaza, where they remained two days in a mean, low hut; and young Raaza was the person that brought provisions to them, viz., a lamb and a kid in the nook of his plaid.
At that time there happened to be in Raaza a fellow who had come into the island upon pretence of selling a roll of tobacco; [fol. 230.] but after he had sold off his tobacco he continued strolling up and down the island in an idle way without anything to do, for no less than twelve or fourteen days, which made the people of the island suspect him to be a spy. When the Prince and his friends were in the hut, Malcolm MacLeod happened to see this stroller coming towards the hut, which he took notice of to the Prince, and told him withal what kind of a fellow he was suspected to be. The Prince not liking the thing so well, Malcolm said he should take care that the fellow should not go back again, for that he would immediately go out and shoot him through the head. 'O, no,' said the Prince, 'God forbid that any poor man should suffer for us, if we can but keep ourselves anyway safe.' And he would not allow the Captain to stir, though their apprehensions behov'd to be the greater that the hut was not upon any road. But the fellow happened to pass by it without looking into it.
The Prince began to be anxious to be out of Raaza, alleging the island to be too narrow and confin'd in its bounds for his purpose, and proposed setting out for Troternish in Sky. But his companions told him that they thought him in safety where he was, and did not like that he should change his place so soon. The Prince pressed so much for going to the place he had mentioned, pretending he had a tryst there with a [fol. 231.] gentleman,[107] which he would not break for any thing, that his friends yielded to his importunity.
2 July
July 2d. About 7 o'clock at night he went on board the above mentioned small boat, attended by the young Laird of Raaza (who could not think of parting from him soon) and his brother Murdoch, Captain MacLeod and the two boatmen, John MacKenzie and Donald MacFrier, who had been both out in his service, the one a sergeant and the other a private man. They had not well left the shore till the wind blew a hard gale, and the sea became so very rough and tempestuous that all on board begged he would return; for the waves were beating over and over them, the men tugging hard at the oars, and Captain MacLeod laving the water out of the little boat. The Prince would by no means hear of returning, and to divert the men from thinking on the danger he sung them a merry Highland song. About nine or ten o'clock the same night they landed at a place in Sky called Nicolson's Rock, near Scorobreck, in Troternish. In rowing along they found the coast very bad and dangerous, and when they came to the Rock the Prince was the third man that jump'd out among the water and cried out, 'Take care of the boat, and hawl her up to dry ground,' which was immediately done, he himself assisting as much as any one of them.[108] The Prince had upon him a large big coat, which was become very heavy and [fol. 232.] cumbersome by the waves beating so much upon it, for it was wet through and through. Captain MacLeod proposed taking the big coat to carry it, for the rock was steep and of a very uneasy ascent. But the Prince would not part with the coat, wet as it was, alleging he was as able to carry it as the Captain was.[109] They went forwards to a cow-byre on the rock, about two miles from Scorobreck, a gentleman's house. In this byre the Prince took up his quarters, the whole company still attending him. Here they took some little refreshment of bread and cheese they had along with them, the cakes being mouldered down into very small crumbs.
3 July
Captain MacLeod intreated the Prince to put on a dry shirt and to take some sleep; but he continued sitting in his wet cloaths, and did not then incline to sleep. However, at last he began to nap a little, and would frequently start in his sleep, look briskly up, and stare boldly in the face of every one of them as if he had been to fight them. Upon his waking he would sometimes cry out, 'O Poor England! O Poor England!' The Prince desired the Captain to take some rest, but he did not chuse to sleep at that time. However, when the Prince began to importune him, the Captain thought perhaps the [fol. 233.] Prince wants a private opportunity to say something to Raaza's son, and therefore he stept aside a little. The two brothers[110] and the boatmen parted from the Prince at the byre. He promised to meet the youngest brother again at Camistinawagg, another place in the same island.[111]
The Prince said he expected Donald MacDonald alias Donald Roy to come to him; but he not coming, the Prince asked Captain MacLeod if he was a stout walker? and if he could walk bare-footed? The Captain replied he was pretty good at walking, and that he could travell bare-footed very well. The Prince told him by bare-footed he meant, if he could walk in his shoes without stockings, 'for,' said he, 'that is the way I used to walk at my diversions in Italy.' The Captain said he could not really tell if he could do that or not, for that he had never tried it.
About six or seven o'clock at night the Prince, taking the little baggage in his hand, stept out of the byre, and desired the Captain to follow him. The Captain came up to him and said, 'Give me that,' taking hold of the little baggage, which he gave him, and then the Captain followed him without speaking one word till they were out of sight of the cow-byre, when the Prince happening to turn such a way as the Captain [fol. 234.] did not think so safe, he made up to him and said: 'Your royal highness will pardon me to ask where you are going, for that I dread you may chance to fall into the hands of some party or another, if you do not take exceeding good care, as there are many small parties dispersed up and down the country.' The Prince then said: 'Why, MacLeod, 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, an you think you can lead me safe enough into Strath.' The Captain declared he would go with him where he pleased, and said he could undertake to bring him into MacKinnon's country safe enough, provided he would go by sea, which he might easily do, for that he really did not think it so safe for him to go by land by reason of the several parties that were searching the country. The Prince said he would go by land, for that there was no doing anything in their situation without running risques, and proposed directing their course immediately for the place intended, alleging that he himself knew the way very well. 'I am sure,' says the Captain, 'I must know it much [fol. 235.] better, and I must tell you that we have a long journey to make, no less than 24 or 30 long miles. For I dare not lead you the direct road, but take you byways, and go here and there cross the country to keep as free as we can of the parties scattered up and down.' Then the Captain hinted that he thought it not so convenient to set out when night was coming on lest they should fall into dangers and inconveniences for want of knowing well where they were. But the Prince insisted upon setting out immediately; and accordingly away they went along the ridges of high hills, and through wild muirs and glens. All the time from first to last of this adventure the Captain was exceedingly afraid of what might happen, lest bad things should be imputed to him, in case of any harm befalling the Prince.
4 July
The Prince proposed to pass for the Captain's servant, the better to conceal him, which was agreed to, and that he should be named Lewie Caw,[112] there being of that name a young surgeon lad (who had been in the Prince's service) skulking at that time in Sky, where he had some relations. The Captain advised the Prince, since he had proposed being his servant, to walk at some distance behind him; and if at any time he [fol. 236.] happened to meet with any persons and to converse with them, as he was well known in the island, that the Prince should show no concern at all in his face, but sit down at a small distance, when he should happen to talk with any folks. The Prince assured him that no appearance of concern should be seen about him, and that he should be careful to observe the proper distance of a servant, and to do the duty of one by carrying the baggage, which very often he would not part with to the Captain when he desired it of him, and even pressed to have it.
The conversation happening to turn upon Lord George Murray, the Prince said that Lord George Murray (whether out of ignorance, or with a view to betray him he would not say) did not behave well at all with respect to obeying of orders; and that particularly for two or three days before the battle of Culloden Lord George did scarce any one thing he desired him to do.[113]
When the Captain was informing the Prince about the many cruelties and barbarities committed after Culloden battle, the Prince was 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 them.'
The Captain, happening to see the Prince uneasy and fidging, took him to the back of a know, and opening his breast, saw [fol. 237.] him troubled with lice for want of clean linen, and by reason of the coarse odd way he behoved to live in, both as to sustenance and sleep. He said, he believed, he took fourscore off him.[114] This serves to show that he was reduced to the very lowest ebb of misery and distress, and is a certain indication of that greatness of soul which could rise above all misfortunes, and bear up with a chearfulness, not to be equalled in history, under all the scenes of woe that could happen. He used to say that the fatigues and distresses he underwent signified nothing at all, because he was only a single person; but when he reflected upon the many brave fellows who suffered in his cause, that, he behoved to own, did strike him to the heart, and did sink very deep with him.
The Prince, even when warm and sweating, used to drink a great deal of water in his wandering from place to place, and the Captain was always sure to desire him to take a dram above the water to qualifie it. The Captain intreated him not to drink water when he was sweating lest he should thereby injure his health. 'No, no,' said the Prince, 'that will never hurt me in the least. If you happen to drink any cold thing when you are warm, only remember, MacLeod, to piss after drinking, and it will do you no harm at all. This advice I had from a friend abroad.' The Captain said the Prince was always sure to observe this direction.
When the Captain was asked if the Prince was really in good [fol. 238.] health when he happened to be with him he said, it was not possible he could be altogether in good health considering the many fatigues and distresses he was obliged to undergo, and that (as he had heard) he had been seized with a bloody flux before he left South Uist. But then, he said, the Prince would never own himself to be in any bad state of health at all, and always bore up with a surprizing stock of spirits. It was never in the power of any person to discover an appearance of bad health about him. He walked very quickly, and had a good appetite.
At last the brandy bottle began to come near the bottom, when the Prince pressed the Captain to take a dram lest he should faint with the excessive fatigue. But he refused to take it, and desired the Prince himself to drink it off. The kind contest ran so high that the Prince told him: The devil a drop of it he would drink, and therefore he should make an end of it. The Captain behoved to empty the bottle, which the Prince proposed to throw away and to break it. 'No, no,' said the Captain, 'I will be so far from breaking it that I will do my best to preserve it as a curious piece. It may come to drink many a cask of whiskie to me yet.' He then hid the bottle in the heart of a thick bush of heath, and as he knows the ground well, he hopes to find it upon his return to Sky, if the cattle have not trampled it to pieces. He said he hoped the bottle would make a figure in Westminster yet. He has likewise the big coat, which the Prince wore wet and heavy. [fol. 239.] He took it to London with him, and gave orders to send it after him when he set out for Scotland.
As they were marching along and talking of the fatigues the Prince was obliged to undergoe, he said: 'MacLeod, do you not think 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 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, of a more piercing and trying climate, and exposed to different kinds of fatigues, I really find I agree equally with both. I have had this philibeg on now for some days, and I find I do as well with it as any the best breeches I ever put on. I hope in God, MacLeod, to walk the streets of London with it yet.' Then he remarked that the waistcoat he had upon him was too fine for a servant, being a scarlet tartan with a gold twist button, and proposed to the master to change with him, the better to carry on the disguise, which accordingly was done, the master's vest not being so fine as the servant's. When the Prince was making the exchange he said, 'I hope, MacLeod, to give you a much better vest for this yet.'
The Captain remarked it was proper they should pass the road that leads to the Laird of MacLeod's country in the night time for fear of parties spying them; which accordingly they did by break of day. And the Prince looking about him, and [fol. 240.] seeing nothing but hills all around them said, 'I am sure, the Devil cannot find us out now.'
As they were coming near Strath, MacKinnon's country, the Captain suggested to the Prince that now he was coming to a country where he would be known and consequently liable to be discovered in every corner of it, as MacKinnon and his men had been out in his service, and therefore some shift behoved to be faln upon to disguise him more and more still. The Prince proposed blacking his face with some one thing or another. But the Captain was against that proposal as what would serve rather to discover him all at once than to conceal him. The Prince then pulling off the periwig and putting it into his pocket took out a dirty white napkin and desired the Captain to tye that about his head, and to bring it down upon his eyes and nose. He put the bonnet on above the napkin and said, 'I think I will now pass well enough for your servant, and that I am sick with the much fatigue I have undergone. Look at me, MacLeod, and tell me what you think. How will it do?' MacLeod told him—this would not do yet, for that those who had ever seen him before would still discover his face for all the disguise he was in. The Prince said, 'This is an odd remarkable face I have got that nothing [fol. 241.] can disguise it. I heard Mr. MacLeod declare more than once that the Prince could do any thing or turn himself into any shape, but that of dissembling his air.' That he could never disguise with all the arts he could use. 'There is not a person,' he said, 'that knows what the air of a noble or great man is, but upon seeing the Prince in any disguise he could put on would see something about him that was not ordinary, something of the stately and the grand.'
They were no sooner come into Strath than they met two of MacKinnon's men who had been out in the expedition. Immediately they stared upon the Prince, and with hands lifted up, wept bitterly to see him in such a pickle. Malcolm begged them to take care what they were doing and to compose themselves, for that they might do harm by showing any concern. He took them back with him so far, and cautioning them not to take any notice of this meeting, took an oath of them, not to discover at any rate that they had seen the Prince in disguise or in that corner of the country, and then dismist them. The men accordingly proved true to their trust.
When they were near the place the Captain designed to set up at, he told the Prince that he had a sister that dwelt there who was married to John MacKinnon, a captain, lately under [fol. 242.] the Laird of MacKinnon, and that he judged it advisable to go to his sister's house, advising the Prince in the meantime to sit at a little distance from the house till he should enquire at John MacKinnon or his wife if any party was near the place, and if he (Malcolm MacLeod) could be safe there; and likewise telling the Prince that he was still to pass for his servant, Lewie Caw. Mr. MacLeod accordingly went to the house where he found his sister, but her husband was not at home. After the usual compliments he told his sister that he had come there perhaps to pass some little time, provided that no party was near them, and that he was in safety to stay. She assured him that no party she knew of was in that corner, and that he was very welcome, and she hoped he would be in safety enough. He told her that he had no body along with him but one Lewie Caw (son of Mr. Caw, surgeon in Crief) who had been out in the late affair, and consequently in the same condemnation with himself; and that he was with him as his servant. Upon this Lewie Caw was called upon to come into the house, the place being called Ellagol, or Ellighuil, near Kilvory or Kilmaree (i.e. a chapel, or rather a burying place, dedicate to the Virgin Mary) in Strath. When Lewie entered the house with the baggage on his back and the napkin about his head [fol. 243.] he took off his bonnet, made a low bow and sat at a distance from his master. The Captain's sister said there was something about that lad that she liked unco well, and she could not help admiring his looks. When meat and drink, viz., bread and cheese, milk, etc. were set down before the master he said to his servant that he might come in by and take a share, for that there were no strangers in the house. The sick Lewie made it shy and refused to eat with his master, and alledged he knew better manners. But the master ordering him to come and take a share he obeyed, still keeping off the bonnet.
In their way to this place the Prince in the night time happened to fall into a bogue almost to the top of the thighs and MacLeod behoved to pull him out by the armpits and thereby was bogued himself. The Captain desired the servant lass, who could talk nothing but Erse, to bring some water for his feet, which she did; and being much fatigued he desired her to wash his feet and legs. When she was washing them he said, 'You see that poor sick man there, I hope you'll wash his feet too. It will be 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 countrywoman's son. I will not wash his feet [fol. 244.] indeed.' However, with much intreaty Malcolm prevailed upon the maid to stoop so low as to wash poor Lewie's feet. While she was washing them she happened to use him right roughly, and the Prince said to Malcolm, 'O MacLeod, if you would desire the girl not to go so far up.'
Malcolm importuned the Prince to go to bed and take some rest. The Prince then asked who would keep guard for fear of an alarm? Malcolm said he would do it himself. The Prince at last was prevailed upon to throw himself upon a bed, but would not strip. Malcolm desired his sister to go out, and sit upon the top of a knowe near the house and keep watch while he and his servant Lewie should take some sleep, which she accordingly did.
The Captain hearing that the landlord was coming towards home went out to meet him. After saluting him he asked if he saw these ships of war (pointing to them) that were hovering about upon the coast. Mr. MacKinnon said he saw them very well. 'What,' said MacLeod, 'if our Prince be on board one of them?' 'God forbid,' replied MacKinnon, 'I would [fol. 245.] not wish that for anything.' 'What!' said Malcolm, 'if we had him here, John? Do you think he would be in safety enough?' 'I wish with all my heart we had him here,' replied John, 'for he would be safe enough.' 'Well then,' said MacLeod, 'he is here already. He is just now in your house. But when you go in you must be careful to take no notice of him at all. He passes for one Lewie Caw, my servant.' John faithfully promised to observe the direction, and thought he could perform it well enough. But he was no sooner entred the house than he could not hold his eyes from staring upon Lewie, and very soon he was forced to turn his face away from the Prince and to weep. In this house the Prince diverted himself with a young child, Neil MacKinnon,[115] carrying him in his arms and singing to him, and said, 'I hope this child may be a captain in my service yet.'
The Prince and Malcolm began to deliberate about going to the continent, and the proper measures to be taken for that purpose. They both agreed not to let the old Laird of MacKinnon know anything of their being in that country, because though he be a mighty honest, stout, good man, yet through his old age, and the infirmities attending it, they thought he was not so well cut out for the difficulties of the Prince's present situation, and therefore they judged it advisable to desire John MacKinnon to hire a boat under a pretence of Malcolm MacLeod's only sailing to the continent, taking his [fol. 246.] promise in the meantime that he should not communicate anything of the matter at all to the old Laird if he should chance to see him. Accordingly John went to hire the boat, and meeting with the old chiftain he could not keep the matter from him. The Laird told John that he should get a right boat and manage that matter well enough, and that he would instantly come to the place where the Prince was. John returned to the Prince and told him what he had done, and that old MacKinnon was coming to wait upon him. Upon this Malcolm represented to the Prince that seeing they were upon the bounds of the old Laird and that he had taken the matter in hand, he behoved to order and direct everything, for that if he should take upon him to give his opinion or contradict honest MacKinnon in anything he should propose, a difference might arise that would not be so convenient in the present juncture. And therefore suggested it as a wise thing that he should leave the Prince altogether to the management of old MacKinnon, who he was persuaded would be very careful of him, and exceedingly true and firm to the trust. The Prince did not savour this proposal at all, for he could not think of parting with his trusty friend. But the Captain insisted upon it as advisable upon other accounts. He told the Prince that now he behoved to be amissing among his own friends and acquaintances, and ten to one but parties would be employed in search of him, which, if they should still keep together, might end in making a discovery of them both; [fol. 247.] and that therefore he would chuse rather to return to the place from whence he came, though he should happen to have the misfortune of being made a prisoner, which was very like to be the case. 'And no matter for that at all,' said he, 'if it can tend to promote your safety, which it cannot readily fail to do.' With much reluctancy the Prince at last agreed to the proposal, and upon old MacKinnon's coming to them they went directly to the boat, John MacKinnon going with them, who likewise accompanied the Prince and old MacKinnon to the continent.
When the Prince was about stepping into the boat, about 8 or 9 at night, he turned to Malcolm and said, 'Don't you remember that I promised to meet Murdoch MacLeod at such a place?'[116] 'No matter,' said Malcolm, 'I shall make your apology.' 'That's not enough,' said the Prince. 'Have you paper, pen and ink upon you, MacLeod? I'll write him a few lines. I'm obliged so to do in good manners.' Accordingly he wrote him in the following words:
'Sir,—I thank God I am in good health, and have got off as design'd. Remember me to all friends, and thank them for the trouble they have been at.—I am, Sir, Your humble servant,
James Thomson.
Elliguil, July 4th, 1746.'[117]
The Prince delivered the letter into the Captain's hands, and then asked him if he could light him a pipe, for he wanted [fol. 248.] to smoke in the passage. The Captain desir'd him to have the cutty ready in his cheek, and that he should fall upon a method to light it. Malcolm took some tow out of his pocket, and snapping one of the guns held the tow to the pan and kindled it. Then putting it to the mouth of the pipe he blew and the Prince smok'd. But the cuttie being exceedingly short, Malcolm scarred the Prince's cheek with the tow.
At parting the Prince presented the Captain with a silver stock-buckle, which among all his difficulties he has still got preserv'd; and embracing him in his arms saluted him twice, and bad God bless him, putting ten guineas into his hand. Malcolm positively refused to accept of the gold, because the Prince behoved to have great use for money in his wandering from place to place; and he said he believed he had not much about him at that time. The Prince pressed it upon him and would have no refusal, wishing it had been much more for his sake, and that he could have gone to the continent with him.
July
Captain MacLeod took care to have one of the cutties the Prince had used and carried it to London with him, where meeting with one, Dr. Burton of York, a prisoner, and chancing to tell the story of the cuttie the Doctor begged as a great favour to have the cuttie, which Malcolm gave him. The Doctor has made a fine shagreen case for it, and preserves it as a valuable rarity. This Dr. Burton was made prisoner [fol. 249.] upon a suspicion of his having crossed England with an intention to kiss the Prince's hands. Malcolm in coming down from London made a stop at York for a day or two, and visited the Doctor and his cuttie.
Captain MacLeod,[118] after taking leave of the Prince made the best of his way back again to Raaza, and on his way visited Mrs. MacDonald of Kingsburgh, to whom he told the whole adventure, particularly the story of the motto and carving upon the silver-mill she had given to the Prince; and how the Prince said that the wind would soon change and set the ships of war off from the coast, which Malcolm said accordingly happened.
After Malcolm had returned to Raaza, parties landed upon the island to rummage it. One day a party of red-coats happened to be pretty near him before he spied them. He and a servant he had with him took to their heels and ran for it. The party did not fire but called upon them to stop. Endeavouring to get clear of this party, he had almost run himself into the hands of Captain Caroline Scott, upon the head of fifty or sixty men. Scott ordered his party to fire at Malcolm and his servant, and to run after them.[119] They catched the poor servant, and would have him to tell if yon was the Pretender that had got off from them; and because he would not [fol. 250.] say it was the Pretender, they tortured him so that they left him for dead upon the spot. But whether or not the poor man (Donald Nicolson) recovered was what Malcolm had never yet discovered. Malcolm ran to the clift of a rock upon the sea-shore, where he said no person would ever run but in the greatest necessity, so difficult it was of access. There he remained three days and three nights, having only some crumbs of bread and cheese in his pocket. But being like to starve of hunger and thirst, he left his cliff and came once more upon the island. One day happening to take a nap in a house, an alarm came that a party of MacLeods from Sky was near, and before he could get out at the door the party was hard at hand. Once more he ran to the old clift, the party firing at him and crying after him to stop; but he continued running with all speed, and they endeavoured to outrun him but could not. In his way to the clift he happened to meet with a boy whom he took along with him, lest he should have fallen into the hands of the party, and perhaps have discovered which way he saw him running. He remained in the clift three days more. The boy growing weary of the cold and hungry quarters, frequently pressed to be gone. But the Captain could not well think of that, for fear of a discovery. However, at last he allowed the boy to go, taking his promise that he would fetch him some provisions and intelligence, and that he would not discover where he had left him. The poor [fol. 251.] boy soon fell into the hands of the same party, who by threats forced him to tell what he knew. Malcolm rising up to look about him a little, spied six MacLeods creeping in about to the clift with their muskets cock'd. He had no way left him to escape; but having some gold upon him he offered them every farthing of it, provided they would let him go and shift for himself, which they refused to do, even though they were his own blood-relations, and the party commanded by his friend, John MacLeod of Talisker. They carried him prisoner to a command of fusiliers at Pourtree in Sky. From thence he was guarded by a party to the sloop, commanded by that cruel, barbarous man, John Ferguson of Aberdeenshire.[120]
Aug. 2.
When he was to go on board his wife and some other friends came flocking about him, weeping bitterly and lamenting his fate. He very pleasantly desired them to dry up their tears, for that he hoped to return yet from London in coach. This merry saying of his prov'd not amiss, for he came from London in a post-chaise with Miss Flora MacDonald, passing for one Mr. Robertson, and Miss, for his sister; they not chusing to discover themselves upon the road, lest the mob might insult them and use them ill. They arrived in Edinburgh upon Sunday's evening, August 2nd, 1747.
Though Ferguson could not fail to know Captain MacLeod to be a gentleman both from his manner and the cloaths he had upon him (for he was very genteelly dress'd in scarlet [fol. 252.] cloath and fine tartan), yet he was never pleased to vouchsafe him one single look but in the way of surliness and ill-nature. He was oblig'd to retire every evening by eight o'clock with the other prisoners to the place assigned them under deck, where they had their choice of lying upon cable ropes, boards, or stones, without any covering, and had only half-men's allowance given them of very coarse indifferent fare.
4 July
Before the Captain got to London his cloaths were so wore that the skin began to appear through them, and by that time he had not one shirt to change another. Though he had been an officer in the Prince's service under his chiftain, the Laird of Raaza, yet he had the good luck to get off by a mistake, for he was thought when brought to London to be Raaza himself, both whose feet turn inwards; and when Malcolm's feet were examined by order, the return given was 'that they were both straight and stout.' However, his name being much talked of and growing somewhat famous over all London, the Government had a mind once more to be at him, and sent the evidences to visit him to see if they knew him, and if they did not know him, to endeavour to fish something out of him by entangling him in his talk. Particularly one, Urquhart, came to him in a very kind and familiar manner, and inquiring about his welfare. Captain MacLeod told him that he had the [fol. 253.] advantage of him, for that he was at a loss to know who it was that favoured him with such a kind visit, not remembring he had ever seen the face before. 'O Mr. MacLeod,' said Urquhart, 'don't you remember to have seen me at Edinburgh at such a time?' It happened very luckily for Malcolm that he had never been in Edinburgh before that time, and therefore he assured Urquhart that he behoved to take him for some other person. Raaza and his men had come only to Perth sometime before Falkirk battle. Urquhart still insisted that he was sure he had seen him before, particularly at Inverness at such a time. The Captain still kept him off with long weapons and discreet returns; so that neither Urquhart nor none of his kidney could gain any ground upon him at all. There being no evidence to be found against him, he had the benefit of the indemnity. Accordingly he was liberate out of the messengers hands upon July 4th, 1747, together with Clanranald, senior, and his lady, Boisdale, John MacKinnon, my Lady Stewart, etc. Miss Flora MacDonald was not liberate till some few days after.
1745 September
Captain MacLeod gave likewise the following remarkable narrative:[121] After the battle of Gladesmuir, a Glenelg man came over to Sky to give the accounts of it. Upon this Sir Alexander MacDonald, the Laird of Raaza, Kingsburgh and [fol. 254.] Captain MacLeod had a meeting some time in the end of September, 1745, at Sconsary, a publick house in the Isle of Sky. When Sir Alexander came to the place, he desired that none might be present but friends. The company assured him that the Glenelg man was a very honest fellow; but Sir Alexander would not hear of his witnessing what passed among them, and therefore he was not admitted.
Sir Alexander said that this was certainly a most remarkable and surprizing victory the Prince had obtained; that he doubted not now of the Prince's succeeding in the attempt; and that therefore every one should raise his men to assist him in the design. Then directing his discourse to Raaza, he said, 'Raaza, tis true you cannot raise many men; but the men you have are good. You can easily raise an hundred, and I resolve to raise nine hundred, which will make out a thousand good stout fellows betwixt us: for I am not for having boys or superannuate men amongst them. These I would divide into two battalions, 500 in each; and as you are a man that one can confide in, I resolve to make you Colonel of one of the battalions.' Raaza most cheerfully accepted of the offer, and heartily thanked Sir Alexander for the command he designed to honour him with. Then the marching off the men was laid down by Sir Alexander himself,—that Raaza should go off with his battalion first, and that Sir Alexander should follow [fol. 255.] at the distance of a day's march; and the particular places for quartering on the march were condescended upon. They likewise agreed upon what number of cattle they should drive along with each battalion for provisions till they should come to the low country, where they would get plenty. In a word, all matters were most amicably and frankly resolved upon for joining the Prince's standard without loss of time, and the company were highly delighted with the interview. Sir Alexander stayed all that night in the same house, making very merry, and taking a hearty glass with the gentlemen.
Next day the post brought letters to Sir Alexander from President Forbes and the Laird of MacLeod, then at Culloden, which were delivered to him in presence of the company. He stept aside to a window and read the letters by himself, not allowing the company to know anything of the contents. Immediately he left his former chearfulness and frank way, and was quite upon the grave and thoughtful. He spoke not one word more of the matter, and left the company soon like one in confusion. To the importunities of the President and MacLeod had Sir Alexander in an instant yielded himself up entirely, and dropt the declared resolution of his own mind.
Just as Sir Alexander went away, Malcolm MacLeod asked [fol. 256.] at Kingsburgh what was become of yesternight's resolution, for that he was much surprized at Sir Alexander's leaving them so abruptly and dryly. Kingsburgh said he knew as little what was become of that affair as Mr. MacLeod did, but he was afraid that there would be no more of it. When Captain MacLeod was asked whether or not he thought that Lady Margaret MacDonald had any influence upon Sir Alexander to make him change his resolution; his answer was, that from all he knew of that matter he could not discover any reason to believe that Lady Margaret had any influence at all in the affair upon Sir Alexander.
c. June.
After giving this narrative, Malcolm likewise told that before the Prince's arrival Sir Alexander MacDonald had been with Boisdale, brother of the Laird of Clanranald, and who lives in South Uist, with whom he had a conference about the Prince's designing to come over; insinuating that he intended to land first in some part of the Long Isle, and perhaps might send for Boisdale; adding withal that if he should happen to come without a backing, he could wish he would return to France. To this purpose Sir Alexander left a message with Boisdale to the Prince, importuning him, if he arrived without a following to return and wait for a more favourable opportunity, [fol. 257.] and till he should get matters in better order for the attempt.
When Boisdale came to the Prince upon his first landing he delivered the message to him, and did all he could to support the purport of it. The Prince asked Boisdale if he thought that he would get a hundred men to join him. 'No doubt,' said Boisdale, 'you'll get more than a hundred. But what then, though you get 500? what will that do?' 'Well then,' said the Prince, 'if I can get only a hundred good stout honest-hearted fellows to join me, I'll make a trial what I can do.' Although Boisdale spoke to the Prince in a very discouraging way, and after the standard was set up kept back all Clanranald's men that lived in South Uist and the other Isles to the number of four or five hundred good men (for he had more to say with them than either Clanranald himself or his son), yet to do Boisdale justice, he was of great use to the Prince when wandering up and down through South Uist, Benbicula, and other parts of the Long Isle, and exerted his utmost endeavours (with the assistance of honest Armadale) to keep him out of the hands of his enemies.
As to the several parts of the above sentence particular questions were asked at Malcolm MacLeod, and in his answers he gave a plain account of Boisdale's conduct, both before and after the Prince's distress, and particularly mentioned what number of men Clanranald might be reckoned to have in the Isles. Both the Captain and James MacDonald, joiner (in [fol. 258.] whose house this Journal was given), agreed in affirming that Clanranald had in the Isles four or five hundred good men, and upon the continent three hundred. These upon the continent were the only men that followed young Clanranald in the Prince's service.
Captain MacLeod likewise gave the following account of the great danger the Prince was in of being taken prisoner in the retreat from Sterling to Inverness:—
16 Feb.
17 Feb.
The Prince, one night, quartering in the Laird of MacIntosh's house, had not many about him for a guard, and these too dispersed up and down for proper quarters, there being no apprehension at all of any danger. Lord Loudon, then at Inverness, got intelligence that the Prince was that night to sleep in MacIntosh's house with no great guard about him. When it was dark, orders were given the men to be in readiness upon a minute's warning, and accordingly Lord Loudon marched off with about seventeen hundred men.[122] When the Prince was about going to rest, or rather when it became dark, Lady MacIntosh ordered one Frazer, a blacksmith (who happened to be there by chance, having a desire to see the Prince), and four servants to get loaded muskets, and to go away privately beyond all the guards and sentries without allowing them to know anything about them or their design, and to walk on the fields all night, and to keep a good look-out. Thereby she said they would prove a check upon the guards, and would be ready to discover approaching [fol. 259.] danger, if any should happen before the sentries could know anything of the matter. All this proceeded merely from Lady MacIntosh's great care and anxiety about the Prince. The blacksmith and his faithful four accordingly went pretty far beyond all the sentries, and walked up and down upon a muir, at the distance, Captain MacLeod said he believed, of two miles from MacIntosh's house. At last they spied betwixt them and the sky a great body of men moving towards them, and not at a great distance. The blacksmith fired his musket and killed one of Loudon's men, some say, the piper; but Captain MacLeod said he could not positively affirm anything about that particular.[123] The four servants followed the blacksmith's example, and it is thought they too did some execution. Upon this the blacksmith huzzaed and cried aloud, 'Advance, Advance, my lads, Advance! (naming some particular regiments) I think we have the dogs now.' This so struck Lord Loudon's men with horrour that instantly they wheel'd about, after firing some shots, and in great confusion ran back with speed to Inverness. It is thought that Lord Loudon's men who fired wounded some of their own companions. An express had been sent off privately to Lady MacIntosh by some friend in Inverness to warn her of the danger. He came to the house much about the time that the trusty five discovered [fol. 260.] the body of men advancing towards them. Lady MacIntosh ran directly to the room where the Prince was fast asleep and gave him notice of Lord Loudon's design. Instantly he jumped out of bed and would have been going down stairs directly, but Lady MacIntosh importuned him to stay in the room till she should get him further notice and try what could be done. They were soon put out of any apprehension of danger. Some of Lord Loudon's men, through the darkness of the night mistaking their way, fell into the hands of the guard, and told that when they were ordered to march from Inverness they were not allowed to know where they were going, and that Lord Loudon upon the firing should have said, 'There's an end to this; we are certainly discovered.' He was the prettiest fellow that could make Inverness first. The firing of the five alarmed the guard, and quickly put them and others in motion. But Loudon and his men were far out of reach before they could come to the ground where the firing happen'd. Clanranald's men were that night keeping guard upon the Prince, and Captain MacLeod, being in the neighbourhood, was amongst the number of those that were alarm'd with the firing and made haste to come up.
Among other subjects the Prince and Captain MacLeod in their wanderings happen'd to talk of the above remarkable incident when the Prince was pleased to inform him that the [fol. 261.] Laird of MacIntosh himself (in Lord Loudon's command) was the kind friend that had sent off the express from Inverness to give notice of the danger. The Prince said he had a very good opinion of that gentleman.
After the hurry of the alarm was over, the Prince ordered all the men to be got together and to march directly for Inverness; and when they were approaching that town he drew them up in order of battle, expecting, as was given out, that Lord Loudon was to march out of the town to fight. For a considerable way they marched in order of battle, and when they came near Inverness they saw Lord Loudon and his men making all the haste they could out of it, betaking themselves to ships and boats to carry them off. The Prince and his army entred the town without opposition or violence of any kind.[124]
1747 13 Aug.
N.B.—Upon Thursday, August 13th, 1747, Captain Malcolm MacLeod and James MacDonald, joiner, dined with my Lady Bruce in the Citadel of Leith. After dinner they were so kind as to retire to my room, where they staid till between six and seven at night. The Captain was but poorly provided for in money matters, and therefore a contribution was set on foot for him in and about Edinburgh. I was so happy[125] as to make among my acquaintances six guineas and a crown, which I delivered into his own hand. I then told him the [fol. 262.] freedom I had taken in writing down from my memory the conversation he had honoured me with, Friday last, in presence of Stewart Carmichael and James MacDonald, but that I still wanted to have an additional favour of him, which was, that he would be so good as to allow me to read my prima cura in his hearing, in order to get his observations and amendments upon it. He frankly granted my request, and said he was glad to embrace the opportunity of so much exactness, which had never been used with him in any one of the many conversations he had formerly given. He was pleased to declare his being much satisfied with what I had written and said, he would now tell me some things he had not mentioned before, which accordingly I writ in his own words, always reading over every sentence to him for the greater certainty of the facts being exactly and circumstantially narrated. I have been carefull to insert these particulars in their proper places in the above transcript. There was one thing I had some difficulty rightly to adjust with Captain MacLeod, which was the day of the month when he parted with the Prince after seeing him in the boat with old MacKinnon. When I asked him about this, he said it was upon July 4th.[126] I told him that would not answer at all with the days formerly mentioned by him, and that it behoved to be July 5th. He was still positive that [fol. 263.] was the 4th, 'For,' said he, 'I remember nothing better than that I set it down upon a piece of paper lest I should forget it.' [The difficulty was still like to remain unresolved, he being equally positive both as to the days formerly mentioned by him, and the particular day upon which he parted with the Prince, till it luckily came into my mind to ask him how many days he reckoned in June? He answered, Thirty-one, which mistake served to clear up this point.[127]] Captain MacLeod said he expected his brother-in-law, John MacKinnon, soon down from London, and then suggested to James MacDonald that if John should happen to come by the way of Edinburgh, he should be at pains to procure a meeting betwixt the said Mr. MacKinnon and me, and that (considering the exactness I observed) James MacDonald should lay himself out to get me a meeting with Donald MacLeod, Miss Flora MacDonald, and any others if they came in his reach that could be useful in making a discovery of facts and men. To which Mr. MacDonald answered, he would do all that lay in his power.
I then took occasion to acquaint Captain MacLeod about a report that had passed currently in Kingsburgh's name after he had set out from Edinburgh in his return to Sky. The report was this, that Kingsburgh [fol. 264.] should have declared to several persons that the Laird of MacLeod should have writ him a letter, desiring him to deliver up the Prince, if he should happen to come in his way, and representing to him what a service he would thereby do to his country; and that the said Laird should have come to Kingsburgh (as the story gave out) either at Fort Augustus or in the Castle of Edinburgh, desiring to have that letter up from him again, which Kingsburgh refused to comply with. Several persons (knowing that I had frequently and familiarly conversed with Kingsburgh) had come to me enquiring about the above report if I knew anything of the matter. My answer always was, that as Kingsburgh had never so much as made the most distant hint to me about any letter whatsomever from the Laird of MacLeod, I could say nothing either as to the truth or the falshood of that report.
After informing Captain MacLeod about this story as above, I told him what a desire I had to have this particular cleared up, that if the report was false and calumnious it might be contradicted, and if true, it might be recorded in futuram rei memoriam; and then asked him if he would be so good as to take from me a memorandum to Kingsburgh about this matter. He said he would with all his heart, and that he would likewise lay himself out to expiscate facts and transmit exact accounts of them to me by any sure private hand [fol. 265.] that should come in his way. Here follows an exact copy of the
Memorandum, etc.
To ask particularly at Kingsburgh if ever the Laird of MacLeod sent him a letter about delivering up the Prince; and whether or not he should have at any time desired to have that letter up from him again. If such a letter be in Kingsburgh's hands, it could be wished he would be so good as to give a copy of it.[128]
Thursday, August 13th, 1747.
22 Aug.
Upon Saturday, August 22nd, I met once more with Captain MacLeod about 3 o'clock afternoon in the house of James MacDonald, joiner, when the Captain was making ready to pass over to Kingborn, which accordingly he did that night. I put him in mind of the above Memorandum, and asked the favour of him to take John MacKinnon's account from his own mouth and transmit it to me, as I had heard that Mr. MacKinnon had taken the opportunity of a ship bound for Inverness from some part of the coast of England, and therefore I could not expect to have a meeting with him. Then I begged him to try if Armadale would vouchsafe me a written account of his part of the management, and to exert his endeavours to pick up for me an exact narrative of all the cruelties, barbarities, etc., he could get any right intelligence about. The Captain was pleased to come under a promise that [fol. 266.] he would do his utmost to comply with my desires as to all these particulars.
Robert Forbes, A.M.
Journal of Donald MacLeod,[129] etc.
17 Aug. 1747
Citadel of Leith, Monday, August 17th, betwixt six and seven at night, 1747, Deacon William Clerk, taylor, came to see me, and did me the favour of bringing along with him Donald MacLeod (tenant at Gualtergill, in the Isle of Sky, under the Laird of MacLeod), the honest and faithful steersman of the eight-oar'd boat from the continent to the Isles of Benbicula, South Uist, Lewis, etc. etc. etc., and who had the Prince among his hands, and was employed in going upon his errands for nine or ten weeks after the battle of Culloden.
After the usual compliments and some little chit-chat, I took occasion to inform Donald anent the favour I had obtained of Malcolm MacLeod, and how easily and chearfully he had granted my request, begging in the meantime to have the like favour from him, as his history, taking in so much time, behoved to be very interesting. Honest Donald modestly said he would very willingly grant my desire for all that he had to say would take up no great time—it would easily be contained in a quarter of a sheet of paper. But then he said, as he had heard that I had been employing myself in collecting [fol. 267.] these things, he behoved to hear all the accounts I had gathered together, particularly O'Neil's Journal, before he would give me one word. I begged leave to tell him that I was persuaded his account would take up much more than a quarter of a sheet, considering the length of time he happened to be with the Prince in his greatest distresses, and that I would willingly read to him all that I had collected, but that it consisted of so many sheets that I was afraid it would take up too much of our time, which I would chuse much rather to spend in taking his account in writing from his own mouth. However, I said I could easily gratify him in reading O'Neil's Journal, as it happened not to be of any great length. He said he would content himself with O'Neil's Journal only, as he had been along with him in company all the time he had attended the Prince after the battle of Culloden. For this made him the more anxious to know what O'Neil advanced in his journal, as he himself could judge where O'Neil was in the right and where in the wrong.
I then represented to him that if he would indulge me the freedom of asking questions at him (without which, from experience, I could assure him there was no taking of journals [fol. 268.] from one with any tolerable exactness), he would soon see that his journal behoved to take up much more paper than he imagined. He said he would allow me to ask any questions I should think fit to propose. I asked him where he was to be that night. He told me he resolved to sleep in James MacDonald's house. I desired to attend him and to spend the evening with him, which was agreed to.
When we were in James's house I began to ask some questions, to which Donald gave plain answers. After asking several questions, Donald, looking at James MacDonald with a smiling countenance, spoke in Erse to him; and James laughing very heartily, said to me, 'Do you know, Sir, what Donald was saying just now? He says you are the uncoest cheel he ever met wi'; for if you go on in asking questions so particularly, and if he shall tell you all the nig-nacs o't, he believes indeed his account will take up much more time and paper than be imagined.'
Upon this I told him it was not enough to inform me that the Prince and his small retinue were in this or the other place such a day, and that they did breakfast, dine, or sup here or there, which I acknowledge to be the foundation of the Journal. But then there were many other things that ought to be carefully [fol. 269.] remarked and taken notice of, otherwise the Journal would turn out to be only a very dull, insipid thing. I therefore earnestly begged he would be at pains to recollect himself as much as possible, and inform me exactly what particular dangers and distresses they met with, how the Prince bore up under them, what passed in conversation among them, and more especially that he would endeavour to call to mind the sayings of the Prince upon any subject, etc. Then a particular day was fixed (Thursday, August 20th) for meeting together in the same house at nine o'clock in the morning, in order to write the Journal from Donald's own mouth.
20 Aug.
Betwixt 9 and 10 of the said day, I was sent for and found with Donald, Deacon William Clerk, taylor, and one Mr. Finlayson, mathematical instrument-maker, and late engineer in the Prince's army. I had no sooner entred the room than Donald asked me if I had been as good as my word,—if I had brought along with me O'Neil's Journal? for that, he said, the deel a word would he gie me till he should hear O'Neil's Journal, which he was afraid was far from being right. And this he said he had reason to think from what he had heard about it already in conversation. I then read O'Neil's Journal [fol. 270.] to him, in which he found fault with several things, particularly as to the staving of the boat to pieces, which he said was not fact. 'For,' said he, 'if the boat had staved to pieces, where O'Neil mentions, the world could not have saved one life that was on board. We would certainly have all perished in the sea; that place is so very rocky and dangerous. Besides, I have reason to think that the boat is still to the fore, and that I may get her into my custody when I go home, if I please to seek after her.' He likewise quarrell'd O'Neil's asserting that he went with him (Donald) to Stornway, which he said was not fact, but that he (O'Neil) remained with the Prince, while he himself was employed about the message upon which he was dispatched to Stornway, where he was well known. He also blamed O'Neil for not taking any notice of the Prince's being under a necessity to disguise himself in women's cloaths, which consisted with O'Neil's knowledge, and served as much as anything to represent the great danger the Prince was in of being discovered and seized; and for taking (as Donald said) too much of the praise to himself. Here Donald had a remarkable expression which I cannot fail to set down in his own words, and they are these: 'What a deel [fol. 271.] could O'Neil do for the preservation and safety o' the Prince in a Highland country, where he knew not a foot of ground, and had not the language o' the people. And sic far'd o' him, for he was no sooner frae the Prince than he was tane prisoner. I own he was as faithful and trusty a friend as the Prince or any man could have, and made an excellent companion to him. But then he could have done nothing for his preservation if there had not been some Highland body like mysell wi' them. Faith he taks ower mickell to himsell; and he is not blate to mind himsell sae mickle and to forget others that behoved to do much more than he could do in sic a case.'
Donald found fault with some other instances in O'Neil's Journal, which it is needless to particularize; for the above particulars are sufficient for a specimen. In general he said the Journal was not at all just and exact.
Mr. Finlayson too found fault with O'Neil's account of the battle of Culloden, and said that in that matter he was far from being right.
After reading O'Neil's Journal, Deacon Clerk and Mr. Finlayson went off. But luckily Malcolm MacLeod came to us, to whom I resumed what had passed upon O'Neil's Journal. [fol. 272.] Malcolm said he had reason to think that O'Neil's account was not just in several things, for that it consisted with his knowledge that O'Neil had advanced several things in London that would not stand the test. He said he could not have a good opinion of O'Neil when he was not at the pains to call for Donald MacLeod, his companion in distress, whom he could not fail to know to be in London at the very same time he himself was in it, and to whom he could have had easy access at any time he pleased. Mean time Malcolm joined with Donald in asserting that he believed O'Neil was most faithful and trusty to the Prince, and would do any thing or run any risque to promote his interest. But then he could not help observing that it was impossible for O'Neil to do anything for the safety of the Prince in a country where he was altogether a stranger, and behoved to be at a very great loss for want of the language.
When I was beginning to take down Donald's account in writing, he told me it was not in his power (as I had asked him) to remember particularly the days of the month in such a long time; but he would do his best to call to mind how many days and nights they had been in this and the other [fol. 273.] place, and from that I might if I pleased at my own leisure afterwards make out the days of the month so as to agree with April 20th or 21st, the day on which he met with the Prince in the wood, and undertook to pilot him to the Isles; and to make his parting with the Prince to come within three or four days of the time when the Prince and Miss MacDonald went off together to the Isle of Sky; which, he said, was exactly the case. He desired me to fix their setting out from the Continent on board the eight-oar'd boat to the 26th of April, and then he said I might make out the other days of the month at my own leisure.
1746 February.
17 Feb.
Donald MacLeod[130] coming to Inverness (when Lord Loudon and his men were lying in and about that town) with a view of taking in a cargoe of meal for the inhabitants of Sky, happened to make a much longer stay there than at first he had proposed, the weather having proved very stormy and cross. When the Prince and his army were marching towards Inverness, Lord Loudon and his men gave out that they were resolved to fight them, and accordingly (as they pretended) made ready for battle, the pipes playing and the drums beating to arms; when in an instant, instead of fighting they wheel'd about and made off with speed, some to the old citadel (called Cromwell's Fort), and others to the bridge, in order to [fol. 274.] get on board of ships and boats, the better to make their escape.[131] Donald, walking along the bridge to see what course they were to take, chanced to fall in with his own chiftain, the Laird of MacLeod, who asked him how he was to dispose of himself now. Donald said he was to go back to Inverness for a horse he had there, for that he thought it foolish for him to lose his horse whatever might happen. The Laird forbad him to do any such thing, assuring him he would certainly be made a prisoner by the rebels if he returned into the town. Donald replied he was very indifferent whether he was made a prisoner or not, being confident that they would not do any harm to him that was nothing but a poor auld man. The Laird walked back with him as if he had been wanting some thing out of the town till they came near the gate next to the bridge, where they began to hear the pipes of the Prince's army playing very briskly; and then the Laird thought fit to turn tail and run with speed. Donald never ance fashed himself, but went into the town at his own leisure, where he had not been long till he fell in with the MacDonalds of Glencoe, who took him prisoner, and would have him to give up his broadsword, 'which,' said Donald, 'I was unco unwilling to [fol. 275.] part wi', for it was a piece of very good stuff.' But luckily for him the old Laird of MacKinnon came up, who, taking him by the hand and asking very kindly about his welfare, assured the party that Donald was an honest man, and that he would be bail for him. Upon which they allowed Donald to keep the claymore and to go along with MacKinnon. After this Donald had no great inclination to leave Inverness, but saunter'd about among his good friends and acquaintances in the army.
April.
About the beginning of April 1746, Æneas MacDonald (one of Kinlochmoidart's brothers, and a banker at Paris) sent for Donald MacLeod and told him that he heard that he (Donald) knew the coast well, and likewise the course to the different Isles, and that as he was upon going to the island of Barra for a small sum of money that was lying there, only about £380 Sterling, he was desirous to have him for his pilot and guide. Donald MacLeod very frankly agreed to do that, or anything else in his power to promote the Prince's interest. On board they go, and though the sea was swarming with sloops of war, boats and yawls full of militia, viz., the Campbells, the MacLeods, and MacDonalds of Sky, etc., yet they had the good luck to get safe to Barra, where they got the money. But they behoved to remove from place to place for [fol. 276.] fear of being discovered and taken, when Æneas and Donald were in Barra. John Ferguson (captain of the Furnace sloop) came upon the coast of the Island, and sent a letter to MacDonald of Boisdale (in whose house Æneas and Donald had been) by a yawl full of the MacLeods, desiring Boisdale to come on board and speak with him. When the MacLeods returned to the sloop, they informed Captain Ferguson that they had seen Donald MacLeod upon shore; and they were persuaded he was about no good. He behoved to be about some mischief or another, for well did they know him, and what way he would be employed. After this Æneas and Donald were obliged to be more wary and cautious than ever, and were much put to it how to get off, as the sloops, boats, etc., were cruizing in great numbers about all the places of the Long Isle. At last they got off with the cash to the island of Cana, at the distance of ten leagues from South Uist towards the mainland. From thence they sailed to the island of Egg, twelve miles from Cana; and from Egg they steered their course to the mainland, where they arrived at Kinlochmoidart's house, which is about six or seven leagues from Egg.
About four or five days after they came to Kinlochmoidart they were thinking of setting out for Inverness, when Æneas MacDonald received a letter from the Prince containing the [fol. 277.] accounts of the battle of Culloden. Æneas said to Donald that he had very bad news to give him, and then told him that the Prince and his army had been totally routed near Culloden house. In this letter Æneas was ordered to meet the Prince at Boradale, and immediately upon receipt of the letter he set out, and returned that same night to Kinlochmoidart. About two days after this, Lord Elcho and Captain O'Neil came to Kinlochmoidart.
20 April
In one day three several messages (for the greater security lest any one of them should happen to miscarry or come by any misfortune) came to Donald MacLeod desiring him forthwith to go to the Prince at Boradale, which order he obeyed directly. When Donald came to Boradale, the first man he met with was the Prince in a wood, all alone. This was about four or five days after the battle. April 20th or 21st.
[It is to be remarked here when Donald spoke to the Prince he always used these terms, May it please your Majesty, or May it please your excellency.]
The Prince, making towards Donald, asked, 'Are you Donald MacLeod of Guatergill in Sky?' 'Yes,' said Donald, 'I am the same man, may it please your Majesty, at your service. What is your pleasure wi' me?' 'Then,' said the Prince, 'You see, Donald, I am in distress. I therefore throw myself into your bosom, and let you do with me what you like. I hear you are an honest man, and fit to be trusted.'
[fol. 278.] When Donald was giving me this part of the narrative he grat sare, the tears came running down his cheeks; and he said, 'Wha deel could help greeting when speaking on sic a sad subject?' Donald made this return to the Prince. 'Alas, may it please your excellency, what can I do for you? for I am but a poor auld man, and can do very little for mysell.' 'Why,' said the Prince, 'the service I am to put you upon I know you can perform very well. It is that you may go with letters from me to Sir Alexander MacDonald and the Laird of MacLeod. I desire therefore to know if you will undertake this piece of service; for I am really convinced that these gentlemen for all that they have done, will do all in their power to protect me.' Upon hearing this Donald was struck with surprize, and plainly told the Prince he would do anything but that. It was a task he would not undertake if he should hang him for refusing. 'What,' said Donald, 'does not your excellency know that these men have played the rogue to you altogether, and will you trust them for a' that? Na, you mauna do 't.' Then Donald informed the Prince that Sir Alexander MacDonald and the Laird of MacLeod were then, with forces along with them, in search of him not above the distance of ten or twelve miles by sea from him, but a much greater distance by land; and therefore the sooner he left that place the better, not knowing how soon they might come up to it, especially if they should happen to take their [fol. 279.] course by sea. Donald still repeated his dislike of the measure in sending any message to Sir Alexander MacDonald and the Laird of MacLeod, and said he would not risque upon going any message to these gentlemen from the Prince at any rate (in the present circumstances) for more reasons than one.
At this time, very luckily for the Prince, Cumberland and his army entertain'd the notion that he had set sail from the continent for St. Kilda, being a place so remote that no suspicion would be readily entertained of his being there. Upon this General Campbell was dispatched with such a considerable force as took up all the fleet that was upon the coast, but to no purpose. When General Campbell appeared upon the coast of St. Kilda, the greater part of the poor inhabitants ran off to the clifts of their rocks to hide themselves, being frighted out of their wits at seeing such an appearance coming towards their island. Such of the forces as landed enquired at the inhabitants they met with about the young Pretender. The poor creatures were quite amazed, and declared they knew nothing of that man, for they had never [fol. 280.] heard of him before. They said they had heard a report that their Laird, MacLeod, had lately had war with a great woman abroad, but that he had got the better of her, and that was all they knew of the disturbances in the world. Upon this the General and his command (not a small one) returned with their finger in their cheek, when in the meantime they thought they had been sure to catch the much-coveted price of blood.
April
When Donald MacLeod had absolutely refused to go any message whatsomever to Sir Alexander MacDonald and the Laird of MacLeod, the Prince said to him. 'I hear, Donald, you are a good pilot; that you know all this coast well, and therefore I hope you can carry me safely through the islands where I may look for more safety than I can do here.' Donald answered he would do anything in the world for him; he would run any risque except only that which he had formerly mentioned; and that he most willingly undertook to do his best in the service he now proposed. For this purpose Donald procured a stout eight-oar'd boat, the property of John MacDonald, son of Æneas or Angus Mac-Donald of Boradale. Both Donald MacLeod and Malcolm MacLeod said that this John MacDonald was either killed at the battle of Culloden [fol. 281.] or butchered next day in cold blood (which was the fate of many), for that he had never been heard of since that time. Donald took care to buy a pot for boyling pottage or the like when they should happen to come to land, and a poor firlot of meal was all the provision he could make out to take with them.
26 April
April 26th. They go on board in the twilight of the evening in Lochnannua, at Boradale, being the very spot of ground where the Prince landed at first upon the continent; and Boradale's house was the first roof he was under when he arrived upon the continent. There were in the boat the Prince, Captain O'Sullivan, Captain O'Neil, Allan MacDonald, commonly called Captain MacDonald (of the family of Clanranald), and a clergyman of the Church of Rome; and Donald MacLeod for pilot managing the helm, and betwixt whose feet the Prince took his seat. The names of the boatmen are: Rhoderick MacDonald, Lauchlan MacMurrich, Rhoderick MacCaskgill, John MacDonald, Murdoch MacLeod (son of the pilot), Duncan Roy, Alexander MacDonald, and Edward Bourk or Burk, a common chairman in Edinburgh.
The above Murdoch MacLeod was then a lad only of 15 years of age, a scholar in the Grammar School of Inverness. When he heard of the appearance of a battle, having got himself [fol. 282.] provided in a claymore, durk, and pistol, he ran off from the school, and took his chance in the field of Culloden battle. After the defeat he found means to trace out the road the Prince had taken, and followed him from place to place; 'and this was the way,' said Donald, 'that I met wi' my poor boy.'
As to Ned Bourk, I asked if Bourk was not an Irish name, and where Ned was born. Both Donald and Malcolm joined in saying that Bourk indeed was originally an Irish name, but that there had been some of that name for three or four generations past in and about the Isle of Sky, where, or rather in North Uist, Ned was born. They likewise told me that Ned from the beginning of the expedition had been servant to Mr. Alexander MacLeod (son of Mr. John MacLeod, Advocate), one of the Prince's aid-de-camps; that Ned knew all Scotland well, and a great part of England, having been servant to several gentlemen; and that he was the man that led the Prince off the field of battle, and guided him all the way to Boradale. They spoke excellent things of poor Ned; and James MacDonald, the landlord, supported them in what they said, for he knows Ned very well.
27 April
When the Prince and his small retinue were thinking of going on board the eight-oar'd boat, Donald MacLeod begged [fol. 283.] the Prince not to set out that night, for that it would certainly be a storm, and he could not think of his exposing himself. The Prince asked how Donald came to think it would be a storm. 'Why, sir,' said Donald, 'I see it coming already.' However, the Prince, anxious to be out of the continent where parties were then dispersed in search of him, was positive to set out directly without loss of time. They had not rowed far from the shore till a most violent tempest arose, greater than any Donald MacLeod had ever been trysted with before, though all his lifetime a seafaring man, upon the coast of Scotland. To this they had the additional distress of thunder and lightning and a heavy pour-down of rain, which continued all the time they were at sea. When the Prince saw the storm increasing still more and more he wanted much to be at land again, and desired Donald to steer directly for the rock, which runs no less than three miles along one side of the loch. 'For,' said the Prince, 'I had rather face canons and muskets than be in such a storm as this.' But Donald would not hear of that proposal at all, assuring the Prince that it was impossible for them to return to the land again, because the squall was against them, and that if they should steer for the rock the boat would undoubtedly stave to pieces and all of them behoved to be drowned, for there was no [fol. 284.] possibility of saving any one life amongst them upon such a dangerous rock, where the sea was dashing with the utmost violence. The Prince then asked Donald what he had a mind to do. 'Why,' replied Donald, 'since we are here we have nothing for it, but, under God, to set out to sea directly. Is it not as good for us to be drown'd in clean water as to be dashed in pieces upon a rock and to be drowned too?'
After this all was hush and silence; not one word more amongst them, expecting every moment to be overwhelmed with the violence of the waves, and to sink down to the bottom. To make the case still worse they had neither pump nor compass nor lantern with them, and the night turned so pitch dark that they knew not where they were for the most of the course. This made them afraid of being tossed upon some coast (such as the Isle of Sky) where the militia were in arms to prevent the Prince's escape. 'But,' to use Donald's words, 'as God would have it, by peep of day we discovered ourselves to be on the coast of the Long Isle, and we made directly to the nearest land, which was Rushness in the Island Benbecula. With great difficulty we got on shore, and saved the boat, hawling her up to dry land, in the morning of April 27th.
I asked how long the course might be that they made in the violent storm. Donald declared that they had run at least [fol. 285.] thirty-two leagues in eight hours. About this Malcom MacLeod made some doubt, alleging the course not to be so long, and they reasoned the matter betwixt them. James MacDonald supported Donald in what he had advanced, and after some debate Malcolm acknowledged that Donald was in the right, and that the course they had been driven was rather more than thirty-two leagues. The storm lasted 4 hours after landing.
Then I asked Donald if the Prince was in health all the time he was with him. Donald said that the Prince would never own he was in bad health, though he and all that were with him had reason to think that during the whole time the Prince was more or less under a bloody flux; but that he bore up most surprizingly, and never wanted spirits. Donald added, that the Prince, for all the fatigue he underwent, never slept above three or four hours at most at a time, and that when he awaked in the morning he was always sure to call for a chopin of water, which he never failed to drink off at a draught; and that he had a little bottle in his poutch out of which he used to take so many drops every morning and throughout the day, saying if anything should ail him he hoped he should cure himself, for that he was something of a doctor. 'And faith,' said Donald, 'he was indeed a bit of a doctor, for Ned Bourk happening ance to be unco ill of a cholick, the Prince said, 'Let him alane, I hope to cure him of that,' and accordingly [fol. 286.] he did so, for he gae him sae mony draps out o' the little bottlie and Ned soon was as well as ever he had been.'
When they landed at Rushness in Benbecula, they came to an uninhabited hut where they made a fire to dry their cloaths, for all of them were wet through and through in to the skin, and an old sail was spread upon the bare ground, which served for a bed to the Prince, who was very well pleased with it, and slept soundly. Here they kill'd a cow, and the pot which Donald had brought served them in good stead for boyling bits of the beef. In this poor hut they remained two days and two nights.
29 April
30 April
April 29th. In the evening they set sail from Benbecula on board the same eight-oar'd boat for the island Scalpay, commonly called the Island Glass, where they landed safely about two hours before daylight next day, the Prince and O'Sullivan going under the name of Sinclair, the latter passing for the father, and the former for the son. Betwixt Benbecula and Scalpay there is the distance of thirteen or fifteen leagues. In this island Donald MacLeod had an acquaintance, Donald Campbell, to whose house he brought the Prince and his small retinue before break of day, April 30th. Being all cold and hungry, Donald MacLeod desired immediately to have a good fire, which was instantly got for them. Donald MacLeod was here only one night, but the Prince remained four nights, and was most kindly entertained by his hospitable landlord, Donald Campbell, whose civility and compassion the Prince entertained a most grateful sense of.[132]
1 May
[fol. 287.] May 1st. Donald MacLeod was dispatched by the Prince to Stornway in the island of Lewis in order to hire a vessel under a pretence of sailing to the Orkneys to take in meal for the Isle of Sky, as Donald used to deal in that way formerly. Here Donald once more affirmed that O'Neil did not go with him to Stornway, and desired me to remark his assertion accordingly. Donald left the eight-oar'd boat at Scalpay, and got another boat from his friend, Mr. Campbell, in which he sailed for Stornway, where he remained some time without making out the design on which he was sent. But at last he succeeded, and then dispatched an express to the Prince in Scalpay (between which and Stornway thirty miles by land) to inform him that he had got a vessel to his mind.
4 May
May 4th. The Prince (leaving Allan MacDonald, the Popish clergyman in Scalpay, who afterwards returned to South Uist), set out on foot for Stornoway, attended by O'Sullivan and O'Neil, taking a guide along to direct them the right road. This guide, in going to the Harris (between which and Scalpay there is a ferry of only a quarter of a mile) took them eight miles out of the way. In coming from Harris to the Lewis they fell under night, and a very stormy and rainy night it was, which fatigued them very much, their journey, by the mistake of their guide, being no less than thirty-eight long Highland miles.
5 May
[fol. 288.] May 5th. When in sight of Stornway the Prince sent the guide to Donald MacLeod to inform him that he and the two captains were at such a place, desiring withal that he would forthwith send them a bottle of brandy and some bread and cheese, for that they stood much in need of a little refreshment. Donald immediately obeyed the summons and came to the Prince, bringing along with him the demanded provisions. He found the Prince and his two attendants upon a muir all wet to the skin, and wearied enough with such a long journey through the worst of roads in the world. Donald told the Prince that he knew of a faithful and true friend to take care of him till things should be got ready for the intended voyage. This was the Lady Killdun[133] at Arynish, to whose house Donald conducted the Prince and his two attendants. Here the Prince was obliged to throw off his shirt, which one of the company did wring upon the hearth-stone, and did spread it upon a chair before the fire to have it dried.
The same day, May 5th, Donald was sent back to Stornway to get things in readiness. But when he came there, to his great surprize he found no less than two or three hundred men in arms. The Lewis is inhabited by the MacKenzies, and belongs to the Earl of Seaforth. Donald could not understand [fol. 289.] at all what was the matter that occasioned such a sudden rising of men, and therefore, without fear or dread, he went directly into the room where the gentlemen were that had taken upon themselves the rank of officers, and asked them what was the matter. Every one of them immediately cursed him bitterly, and gave him very abusive language, affirming that he had brought this plague upon them; for that they were well assured the Prince was already upon the Lewis, and not far from Stornway, with five hundred men. This they said exposed them to the hazard of losing both their cattle and their lives, as they heard the Prince was come with a full resolution to force a vessel from Stornway. Donald very gravely asked, How sorrow such a notion could ever enter into their heads? 'Where, I pray you,' said he, 'could the Prince in his present condition get 500 or one hundred men together? I believe the men are mad. Has the devil possessed you altogether?' They replied that Mr. John MacAulay, Presbyterian preacher in South Uist, had writ these accounts to his [fol. 290.] father in the Harris, and that the said father had transmitted the same to Mr. Colin MacKenzie, Presbyterian teacher in the Lewis. Donald saned these blades, the informers, very heartily, and spared not to give them their proper epithets in strong terms. 'Well then,' said Donald, 'since you know already that the Prince is upon your island, I acknowledge the truth of it; but then he is so far from having any number of men with him that he has only but two companions with him, and when I am there I make the third. And yet let me tell you farther, gentlemen, if Seaforth himself were here, by G—— he durst not put a hand to the Prince's breast.'
Here Donald desired me to remark particularly for the honour of the honest MacKenzies in the Lewis (notwithstanding the vile abusive language they had given him) that they declared they had no intention to do the Prince the smallest hurt, or to meddle with him at present in any shape. But then they were mighty desirous he might leave them and go to the continent, or anywhere else he should think convenient. The wind being quite fair for the continent Donald desired they would give him a pilot, but they absolutely refused to give him one. Donald offered any money for one, but he said he believed he would not have got one though he should have offered £500 sterling, such was the terror and dread the people [fol. 291.] were struck with. Donald then returned to the Prince and gave him an honest account how matters stood, which made them all at a loss to know what course to take, all choices having but a bad aspect.
At this time the Prince, O'Sullivan and O'Neill had but six shirts amongst them, and frequently when they stript to dry those that were upon them they found those that they were to put on as wet as the ones they had thrown off.
In this great difficulty the Prince declared, let the consequence be what it would, he could not think of stirring anywhere that night till he should sleep a little, so much was he fatigued with the late tedious journey. And the two captains were no less wearied, being quite undone. To make their case still worse, two of the boatmen had run away from Stornway, being frighted out of their wits at the rising of the men in arms.
6 May
May 6th. About eight o'clock in the morning the Prince, O'Sullivan, O'Neil, Donald MacLeod and the six boatmen (two whereof were Donald's own son and honest Ned Bourk), went on board Donald Campbell's boat, which they had got at Scalpa, and sailed for the Island Euirn, twelve miles from [fol. 292.] Stornway, and landed safely. This Euirn is a desert island round which the people of the Lewis use to go a fishing, and upon which they frequently land to spread their fish upon the rocks of it for drying. The fishermen were then at Stornway, but not one of them could be prevailed upon to accompany the Prince to the uninhabited island, for the wind was contrary, and it blew a very hard gale.
When they were in Lady Killdun's house they had killed a cow, for which the Prince desired payment to be made; but the landlady refused to accept of it. However, Donald said, before they left the house he obliged her to take the price of the cow. 'For,' said Donald, 'so long as there was any money among us, I was positive that the deel a man or woman should have it to say that the Prince ate their meat for nought.' They took the head and some pieces of the cow along with them in the boat, as also two pecks of meal and plenty of brandy and sugar. They had all along a wooden plate for making their dough for bread, and they made use of stones for birsling their bannocks before the fire. When they were parting with Lady Killdun she called Ned Bourk aside and (as Donald said) gave him a junt of butter betwixt two fardles of [fol. 293.] bread, which Ned put into a wallet they had for carrying some little baggage.
Upon the desart island they found plenty of good dry fish, of which they were resolved to make the best fare they could without any butter, not knowing of the junt that Ned had in his wallet. As they had plenty of brandy and sugar along with them, and found very good springs upon the island, they wanted much to have a little warm punch to chear their hearts in this cold remote place. They luckily found a earthen pitcher which the fishers had left upon the island, and this served their purpose very well for heating the punch. But the second night the pitcher by some accident or another was broke to pieces, so that they could have no more warm punch.
When Donald was asked if ever the Prince used to give any particular toast when they were taking a cup of cold water, whiskie, or the like, he said that the Prince very often drank to the Black Eye, 'by which,' said Donald, 'he meant the second daughter of France; and I never heard him name any particular health but that alone.[134] When he spoke of that lady, which he did frequently, he appeared to be more than ordinary well pleased.' When Donald was asked if ever he heard the Prince mention that he had any trust to put in the King of France [fol. 294.] for assistance, he answered that the Prince when he spoke of the King of France mentioned him with great affection, and declared that he firmly believed the King of France had his cause much at heart, and would (he hoped) do all in his power to promote it. When the Prince at any time was talking upon this subject, Donald said he used to add these words: 'But, gentlemen, I can assure you, a King and his Council are two very different things.'
Ned Bourk stood cook and baxter; but Donald said, the Prince was the best cook of them all. One day upon the desart island the Prince and Ned were employed in making out a dish of fish, while all the rest were asleep. Ned, not minding that he had the junt of butter, began to complain that the fish would make but a very sarless morsel without butter. The Prince said the fish would do very well in their present condition, and that they behoved to take the fish till the butter should come. Ned, at last reflecting, told the Prince that he had got a junt of butter from Lady Killdun, which he laid up betwixt two fardles of bread in the wallet, which was then lying in the boat. The Prince said that would do exceedingly well, for it would serve to compleat their cookery, and desired Ned to go fetch it immediately. When Ned came to take out the butter the bread was all crumbled into pieces, so that it made a very ugly appearance. Ned [fol. 295.] returned and told the Prince the butter would not serve the purpose at all, for that it was far from being clean, the bread being crumbled into pieces and wrought in amongst it, and therefore he thought shame to present it. 'What,' said the Prince, 'was not the butter clean when it was put there?' 'Yes,' answered Ned, 'it was clean enough.' 'Then,' replied the Prince, 'you are a child, Ned. The butter will do exceedingly well. The bread can never file it. Go, fetch it immediately.' When the fish were sufficiently boyled they awakened the rest of the company to share in the entertainment. Donald MacLeod, looking at the butter, said the deel a drap of that butter he would take, for it was neither good nor clean. But the Prince told him he was very nice indeed, for that the butter would serve the turn very well at present, and he caused it to be served up. They made a very hearty meal of the fish and the crumbs of bread swimming among the butter.
At another time, when Ned was preparing to bake some bannocks, the Prince said he would have a cake of his own contriving, which was to take the brains of the cow and mingle them well in amongst the meal, when making the dough, and this he said they would find to be very wholesome meat. His directions were obeyed, and, said Donald, 'he gave orders to [fol. 296.] birsle the bannock well, or else it would not do at all.' When the cake was fully fired the Prince divided it into so many pieces, giving every gentleman a bit of it; and Donald said, 'it made very good bread indeed.'
Here I asked if the boatmen did eat in common with the Prince and the gentlemen? 'Na, good faith, they!' said Donald, 'set them up wi' that indeed, the fallows! to eat wi' the Prince and the shentlemen! We even kept up the port of the Prince upon the desart island itself and kept twa tables, one for the Prince and the shentlemen, and the other for the boatmen. We sat upon the bare ground, having a big stone in the middle of us for a table, and sometimes we ate off our knee or the bare ground as it happened.'
Upon this uninhabited island they remained four days and four nights in a low, pityful hut, which the fishers had made up for themselves; but it was so ill-roofed that they were obliged to spread the sail of the boat over the top of it. They found heath and turf enough to make a fire of; but had nothing but the bare ground to lie along upon when disposed to take a nap, without any covering upon them at all.
When they were consulting about taking their departure from this barren island, the Prince ordered two dozen of the fish to be put on board the boat whatever might happen to [fol. 297.] them, and said he would leave money for them, placing the cash upon a fish, that so the people, when they missed of the number of their fish might find the value of what they wanted. But O'Sullivan or O'Neil told him it was needless to leave any money, lest vagrants should happen to land upon the island and take the money which did not belong to them. These two prevailed upon him to allow the money to be taken up again.
10 May
May 10th. They set sail from the uninhabited island, when the Prince told his retinue he was determined to return to Scalpay or the Island Glass, in order to pay his respects to honest Donald Campbell for the remarkable civilities he had shown him; and then he ordered to steer the course directly to that island. When they arrived at Scalpay, Donald Campbell was not at home, having gone a skulking for fear of being laid up, an account or rumour having passed from hand to hand that the Prince had been in his house, and that the landlord had entertained him kindly. The Prince was sorry at missing his hospitable friend, and set sail directly from Scalpa the same day, May 10th. Here Donald said the Prince would not part with Campbell's boat, because it was such a fine, light, swift-sailing thing. In coursing along they happened to spy a ship at Finisbery, in the Harris, within two musket-shot, before they observed her. They were on the windward of the ship at the mouth of the said bay, and made [fol. 298.] all the haste they could along the coast to Benbicula. In this course they spied another ship in Lochmaddy, in North Uist, which occasioned them to make all the sail and rowing they could to get free of the mouth of the loch and out of sight of the ship.
11 May
May 11th. Being still upon the sea they fell short of bread; but having some meal on board and the men turning very hungry and thirsty, they began to make Dramach (in Erse Stappack) with salt water, and to lick it up. The Prince said that was a kind of meat he had never seen before, and therefore he behoved to try it how it would go down. Donald said the Prince ate of it very heartily, and much more than he could do for his life. Never any meat or drink came wrong to him, for he could take a share of every thing, be it good, bad, or indifferent, and was always chearful and contented in every condition.
May 11th. They arrived at Lochwiskaway, in Benbicula, and had scarce got ashore when the wind proved quite contrary to what it had been, blowing a hard gale, which served to make the ships they had spied steer an opposite course. A heavy rain likewise came on at the same time. It happened then to be low water; and one of the boatmen went in among the rocks where he catched a large partan, and taking it up in his hand he wagged it at the Prince, who was at some distance from him. The Prince then took up a cog in his hand, and running towards the lad desired to share in his game.[135]
. . . .
June
[fol. 301.] dispatched Donald MacLeod in Campbell's boat to the continent with letters to Lochiel and John Murray of Broughton, in order to know how affairs stood, and that Donald might bring along with him some cash and brandy. Donald met with Lochiel and Murray at the head of Locharkaig; but got no money at all from Murray, who said he had none to give, having only about sixty louis d'ores to himself, which was not worth the while to send. Donald received letters from Lochiel and Murray to the Prince, and found means without much ado to purchase two anchors of brandy at a guinea per anchor. Here Donald observed that the Prince had a very good opinion of Murray, looking upon him as one of the honestest, firmest men in the whole world.
Donald was absent from the Prince eighteen days or thereabouts, and upon his return he found the Prince where he left him upon Coradale. During his abode on this mountain he lived in a tenant's house, only a hut better than ordinary, diverting and maintaining himself with hunting and fishing; for he used frequently to go down to the foot of the hill upon the shore, and there go on board a small boat, which continued rowing along, and he catched with hand-lines fishes called lyths, somewhat like young cod.
14 June
15 June
June 14th. From the foot of Coradale they set sail in [fol. 302.] Campbell's boat still towards Loch Boisdale, but spying three sail within canon-shot of the shore about break of day, this obliged them to put back to a place called Cilistiela in South Uist.[136] Next morning, June 15th, once more they set sail for Loch Boisdale, where they arrived safely. Here they got accounts that Boisdale was made a prisoner, which was a thing not looked for at all, as he had all along lived peaceably at home, and had kept back all Clanranald's men upon the Isles from following their young chiftain. These accounts of Boisdale's being a prisoner distressed the Prince and his small retinue exceedingly much, as Boisdale was the person principally concerned in the preservation of the Prince; and all along had been most careful to consult the safety of the Prince in his dangers upon and about the Isles. Malcolm MacLeod and Donald MacLeod both agreed in affirming that had not Boisdale been made a prisoner the Prince needed not to have left the Long Isle for all the searches (and very strict ones they were) that were made after him by the troops and militia; so well did Boisdale know all the different places of concealment throughout the Long Isle that were fittest for the Prince to be in, and so exact he was in sending timeous notice to the Prince by proper hands, if he could not with safety wait upon him in person, to be here or there, in this or the other place, at such and such times as he thought convenient to point out to him. Boisdale's confinement therefore behoved to be an inexpressible [fol. 303.] hardship and distress upon the Prince, and make him quite at a loss what to do or what corner to turn himself to.
24 June
Lady Boisdale sent four bottles of brandy to the Prince, and every other thing she could procure that was useful for him and his attendants. In and about Loch Boisdale the Prince continued for eight or ten days, till June 24th, that the woeful parting behoved to ensue betwixt the Prince and Donald MacLeod, etc.[137]
One day coursing up and down upon Loch Boisdale Donald MacLeod asked the Prince if he were once come to his own what he would do with Sir Alexander MacDonald and the Laird of MacLeod for their behaviour. 'O Donald,' said the Prince, 'what would you have me to do with them? Are they not our own people still, let them do what they will? It is not their fault for what they have done. It is altogether owing to the power that President Forbes had over their judgment in these matters. Besides, if the king were restored, we would be as sure of them for friends as any other men whatsomever.' The Prince blamed the young Laird of MacLeod much more than the father; for that, he said, the son had been introduced to him in France, where he kissed his hands, and solemnly promised him all the service that lay in his power to promote his cause; but that when put to the trial he did not keep to his engagements at all.
20 Aug.
[fol. 304.] Here Malcolm MacLeod remarked that the Prince spoke likewise to him about the Laird of MacLeod and his son; and he said when the Prince was talking about them, he could not fail observing with what wariness and caution the Prince (knowing he was talking to a MacLeod) ordered his words, not being sure likewise in his then circumstances whom to trust, or how easily people might be offended at any observations he might happen to make upon those who had not dealt so fairly by him.
Both Donald and Malcolm agreed in giving it as their opinion that the Prince had an excess of mercy and goodness about him at all times.
They likewise agreed in saying they had good reason to believe that honest Hugh MacDonald of Armadale in Sky (stepfather of Miss MacDonald) had a meeting with the Prince at Rushness in Benbecula, that he got the Prince's pistols in keeping, and that he had them still in his custody.[138] They added further, they were persuaded he would sooner part with his life than with these pistols, unless they were to be given to the proper owner; and that he was the grand contriver in laying and executing the scheme for the Prince's escape in women's cloaths from the Long Isle to the Isle of Sky. They said they had often heard that Armadale sent a letter by Miss Flora to his wife, wherein he used some such expression as this, 'that he had found out an Irish girl, Bettie Bourk, very fit for [fol. 305.] being a servant to her, and that among her other good qualifications she had this one, that well could she spin, which, he knew, she liked well.'[139]
They also agreed in telling me that the whole Island of Raaza had been plundered and pillaged to the utmost degree of severity, every house and hut being levelled with the ground; and there was not left in the whole island a four-footed beast, a hen or a chicken.[140] As there is plenty of free stone and marble in Raaza, the Laird had built of these materials a very neat genteel house for himself, which was razed out at the foundation. But in destroying it they had carefully preserved the windows (all of oak), and put them on board of a ship of war for sale. When the ship came to the Road of Leith, James MacDonald, joiner, and a kinsman of Raaza's, went on board, and bought the windows, which were all done with crown glass, chusing rather they should fall into his hands than into those of any indifferent person, because he could account for them to the owner when a proper opportunity should offer. I saw the windows in James MacDonald's house.
Donald MacLeod said the Prince used to smoak 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, [fol. 306.] 'into the end of the cuttie, this served to make it long enough, and the tobacco to smoak 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.
1746 24 June
They expected that Boisdale would get free at Barra. But one came and told the Prince (to his great sorrow) that Boisdale was still to be detained a prisoner, and that there was no appearance of his being set at liberty. This, with other distresses that were still increasing upon him, made the Prince resolve upon parting from his attendants for the greater safety. There were at that time two ships of war in the mouth of Loch Boisdale, for whom they durst not make out of the loch to the sea. Besides there was a command of above five hundred red-coats and militia within a mile and a half of them. All choices were bad, but (under God) they behoved to remove from the place where they then were, and to do their best.
The Prince called for the boatmen, and ordered O'Sullivan to pay every one of them a shilling sterling a day, besides their maintenance. He gave a draught of sixty pistols to Donald MacLeod to be paid by Mr. John Hay of Restalrig, if he should happen to be so lucky as to meet with him upon the continent. [fol. 307.] But as Donald never met with Mr. Hay the draught remains yet unpaid. Donald could not help saying here that he did not despair of the payment, for that he hoped for (as old as he was) to see the draught paid to him with interest.
When Donald came to talk of the parting he grat sare and said, It was a woeful parting indeed, but still insists that he hopes to see him yet 'for a' that's come and gane.'
24 June
June 24th. They parted with a resolution to meet again at a certain place by different roads; Donald MacLeod, O'Sullivan, and the boatmen walking away and leaving O'Neil only with the Prince. Donald MacLeod went south about, but all the men left him, one only excepted; upon which he was obliged to sink the boat, and to do the best he could to shift for himself. But it was not possible for an old man like him to keep himself any considerable time out of grips, especially as the troops and militia at last became so very numerous upon the different parts of the Long Isle. The militia were the worst of all, because they knew the country so well. Donald and Malcolm MacLeod were positive that the red-coats could have done but little, particularly in taking those that were [fol. 308.] skulking, had it not been for the militia, viz., Campbells, Monroes, Grants, etc., etc., who served to scour the hills and woods, and were as so many guides for the red-coats to discover to them the several corners of the country, both upon the continent and on the islands.
5 July
July 5th. Donald MacLeod had the misfortune to be taken prisoner in Benbecula by Allan MacDonald of Knock, in Slate in Sky, a lieutenant. The same day Mr. Allan MacDonald,[141] of the family of Glenaladale, and Mr. Forrest, clergyman of the Church of Rome, were made prisoners by the said Knock, but not at the same time of day nor upon the same spot with Donald MacLeod. Mr. MacDonald, one of the clergymen, commonly called Captain MacDonald, had sixty guineas in his pocket, which Knock took from him, though he was his blood relation, and would not give him one single shilling to purchase necessaries with.
July
From Benbecula the two priests and honest Donald were brought to Barra, in order (as was given out) to appear before General Campbell; but they did not see him there. From Barra they were carried to Loch Brachandale in Sky, and from Loch Brachandale to Portree in Sky, where Donald had the mortification of being neglected and disregarded by some of his own relations, who saw him, but soon turned their backs upon him, and would not vouchsafe to speak one word to him. This [fol. 309.] affected Donald's honest heart very much. 'But,' said Donald, 'the rogues will be fain to speak to me now when I go back to Sky, where indeed I thought never to return any more. But I shall make them understand themselves.'
At Portree Donald MacLeod and Malcolm MacLeod met as fellow-prisoners, and from that were carried to Applecross Bay towards the continent, and there they were put on board the sloop commanded by the noted John Ferguson so often mentioned. Donald MacLeod was immediately brought into the cabin before General Campbell, who examined him most exactly and circumstantially. The General asked if he had been along with the young 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 man's head? no less a sum than thirty thousand pounds sterling, which would have made you and all your children after you happy for ever.' Donald's answer to this is so very good that the beauty of it would be quite spoil'd if I did not give it in his own words, which are these. 'What then? thirty thousand pounds! Though I had gotten't I could not have enjoyed it eight and forty hours. Conscience would have gotten up upon me. That money could not have kept it down. And tho' I could have gotten all England and Scotland for my pains I would not allowed a hair of his body to be touch'd if I could [fol. 310.] help it.' Here Donald desired me particularly to remark for the honour of General Campbell, and to do him justice, that he spoke these words, 'I will not say that you are in the wrong.' Then the General said, 'But now you are in the king's mercy, and if you will not declare every thing you know of this matter, here is a machine (pointing to it) that will force you to declare.' Donald replied that 'Many a prettier fellow than he was now in his mercy, and that he would tell anything he knew without any machine whatsoever.' This was Boisdale's machine in which he used to torture thieves to make them confess.[142]
Such particular questions were then asked that Donald behoved to give an account of the violent storm they were engaged in when sailing from the continent to the Isles, what persons were on board at that time and what their characters were. When the General heard of a Popish priest in the case he asked, Seeing it was a very tempestuous night they set out in from the continent, whether or not the priest was not very busy in praying heartily for the young Pretender, as he was in danger of drowning? 'Na, good faith he, Sir,' replied Donald, 'for if he prayed for himsell, he thought he did well enough. And had you been there, Sir, you would have thought you did well enough too if you prayed for yoursell. Every one of us was minding himsell then.' Then a written declaration was taken from Donald's own mouth and he subscribed it.
[fol. 311.] Donald said he could easily give all his own part of the adventure without doing the smallest harm to the Prince as he then knew that the Prince had set out some time before from Sky to the Continent, and was out of the reach of General Campbell and his command.
Here Malcolm MacLeod informed me that he likewise gave a written declaration, but did not subscribe it.
April
They both concurred in affirming the Ferguson behaved very roughly and barbarously to them. When they were in health they and the other prisoners were brought upon the quarter-deck betwixt 9 and 10 in the morning, and were allowed to walk among two dozen or so of sheep with sentries placed on each side of them. So long as Ferguson was cruizing upon the Highland coast he took care to have great plenty of fresh victuals of all sorts, the sweet fruits of plundering and pillaging. The prisoners got only half-mans allowance in every respect. For one day of the week they had pease; but the common fellows of the ship behoved to be served first before the gentlemen got any at all; and if the pease happened to fall short, the fellows would have mixed them up with salt-water. The victuals were brought to the prisoners in foul nasty buckets, wherein the fellows used to piss for a piece of ill-natured diversion. They were assigned their quarters in a dark place of the ship, where [fol. 312.] they were not allowed the light of a candle of any kind, 'from the 1st of August 1746 to the day,' said Donald and Malcolm, 'upon which Lord Lovat suffered, being April 9th (Thursday) 1747. When they were brought opposite to Tilbury Fort upon the Thames, they were turned over from Ferguson to another ship, where they lay for months together in a most deplorable state of misery, their cloaths wearing so off them that many at last had not a single rag to cover their nakedness with. Here they were treated with the utmost barbarity and cruelty, with a view (as they suppose) to pine away their lives, and by piecemeal to destroy every single man of them. And indeed the design had too great success, for many of them died. Donald MacLeod said he had reason to think that no less than four hundred men died on board three ships opposite to Tilbury Fort,[143] among which sixty or seventy Grants of Glenmoriston, who by the persuasion of the laird of Grant had surrendred themselves and delivered up their arms at Inverness, when Cumberland was there not long after the battle of Culloden. Donald and Malcolm declared that finer and stouter men never drew a sword then what these Glenmoriston men were; and none of them survived the miserable situation and returned to their own country, but only one or two. They likewise joined in laying great blame to the door of the Laird of Grant, who, [fol. 313.] they said, could not fail to know what would turn out to be the fate of those men if they should be prevailed upon to surrender. In a word they looked upon him as the instrument of the misery of these brave fellows, and spoke no good things of him at all, affirming that he entertained a hatred at the Grants of Glenmoriston.[144]
Here Donald and Malcolm had a remark very much to the purpose. They said, It was most lucky that a greater number had not surrendered at the same time, for that the treatment of the Glenmoriston men became a warning to others not to follow their example. And indeed their fate did prevent many surrendries that otherwise would have happened.
Donald MacLeod affirmed that they lived at least for two days upon horse flesh. Here Malcolm did not fully agree with him, and after some little debate betwixt them Malcolm qualified the expression and told me I might write down that the beef they got was so very bad and black that they could not take it for anything else but horse flesh or carrion. Upon this Donald smiled and said, 'Well, Malcolm, how much have you mended the matter?' When Donald was asked how such beef went down with them, he replied, 'O what is it that will not go down wi' a hungry stomack? I can assure you we made no scruple to eat anything that came in our way.'
[fol. 314.] Almost all those that were in the same ship with Donald and Malcolm were once so sick that they could scarce stretch out their hands to one another. Old MacKinnon, one of their companions, held out wonderfully, although a man upwards of 70. He was only about eight days in such a way that he needed one to help him up in the morning; while others much younger, and to all appearances stronger too, were dying by pairs, as at last there was a general sickness that raged among all the prisoners on board the different ships, which could not fail to be the case when (as both Donald and Malcolm positively affirmed) they were sometimes fed with the beeves that had died of the disease which was then raging amongst the horned cattle in England.
When Donald and Malcolm were talking of the barbarous usage they themselves and others met with, they used to say, 'God forgie them; but God lat them never die till we have them in the same condition they had us, and we are sure we would not treat them as they treated us. We would show them the difference between a good and a bad cause.'
Donald MacLeod spoke very much good of Mr. James Falconar, a Scots non-jurant clergyman, and Charles Allan, son of Hary Allan in Leith. He said that Charles Allan behaved exceedingly well in his distress, and had very much of [fol. 315.] the gentleman about him, and that he was in a state of sickness for some time. He said that Mr. Falconar was scarce ever any way ill in his health, that he bore up better than any one of them, having a great fund of spirits, being always chearful, and never wanting something to say to divert them in their state of darkness and misery. He added that he did not know a better man, or one of greater courage and resolution in distress.
Donald desired me to take notice that he was set at liberty (out of a messenger's house in London, where he had been but a short time) upon a most happy day, the 10th of June 1747.[145]
June
Donald has got in a present a large silver snuff-box prettily chessed, from his good friend, Mr. John Walkingshaw of London, which serves as an excellent medal of his history, as it has engraven upon it the interesting adventure, with proper mottos, etc. The box is an octagon oval of three inches and three quarters in length, three inches in breadth, and an inch and a quarter in depth, and the inside of it is doubly gilt. Upon the lid is raised the eight-oar'd boat, with Donald at the helm, and the four under his care, together with the eight rowers distinctly represented. The sea is made to appear very [fol. 316.] rough and tempestuous. Upon one of the extremities of the lid there is a landskip of the Long Isle, and the boat is just steering into Rushness, the point of Benbicula where they landed. Upon the other extremity of the lid there is a landskip of the end of the Isle of Sky, as it appears opposite to the Long Isle. Upon this representation of Sky are marked these two places, viz., Dunvegan and Gualtergill. Above the boat the clouds are represented heavy and lowring, and the rain is falling from them. The motto above the clouds, i.e. round the edge of the lid by the hinge, is this—Olim hæc meminisse juvabit—Aprilis 26to 1746. The inscription under the sea, i.e. round the edge of the lid by the opening, is this—Quid, Neptune, paras? Fatis agitamur iniquis. Upon the bottom of the box are carved the following words—Donald MacLeod of Gualtergill, in the Isle of Sky, the faithfull Palinurus, Æt.68, 1746. Below these words there is very prettily engraved a dove, with an olive branch in her bill.
When Donald came first to see me, along with Deacon Clark, I asked him why he had not snuff in the pretty box? 'Sneeshin in that box!' said Donald. 'Na, the deel a pickle sneeshin shall ever go into it till the K—— be restored, and then (I trust in God) I'll go to London, and then will I put [fol. 317.] sneeshin in the box and go to the Prince, and say, "Sir, will you tak a sneeshin out o' my box?"'
20 Aug.
N.B.—Donald MacLeod, in giving his Journal, chused rather to express himself in Erse than in Scots (as indeed he does not much like at any time to speak in Scots), and Malcolm MacLeod and James MacDonald explained to me. I was always sure to read over every sentence, in order to know of them all if I was exactly right. Malcolm MacLeod and James MacDonald were exceedingly useful to me in prompting Donald, particularly the former, who having heard Donald tell his story so often before in company, put him in mind of several incidents that he was like to pass over. Donald desired Malcolm to refresh his memory where he thought he stood in need, for that it was not possible for him to mind every thing exactly in such a long tract of time, considering how many different shapes and dangers they had gone through in that time.
August 20th. When I was writing Donald's journal from his own mouth, I did not part with him till betwixt 10 and 11 o'clock at night, and before we parted, our company increased to 16 or 17 in number.
7 Sept.
Some days after this Donald MacLeod and James MacDonald [fol. 318.] coming to dine with my Lady Bruce, I made an appointment with Donald to meet James MacDonald and me upon Monday, September 7th, with a view to dine with Mr. David Anderson, senior, in the Links of Leith, who was very desirous to see Donald, and to converse with him for some time. Upon the day appointed Donald came down from Edinburgh, and brought along with him Ned Bourk, to shew him Mr. Anderson's house. When Ned was known to be the person that was along with Donald, he was desired to come into the house and get his dinner. I went out from the company a little to converse with Ned, who put into my hand a paper, telling me that this was his account of the matter. When I returned to the company, I told them what I had got from Ned, and they were all desirous to know the contents of it. After dinner, when I was reading Ned's Journal, Donald MacLeod frowned, and was not pleased with his account of things, and therefore would needs have Ned brought into the room to answer for himself. Accordingly Ned was called in, and after a pretty long and warm debate betwixt them in Erse, we found that Donald's finding fault amounted to no more than that Ned had omitted to mention several things, which Ned acknowledged to be the case, confessing that his memory did not serve him as to many particulars.
9 Sept.
The Journal had been taken from Ned's own mouth in a [fol. 319.] very confused, unconnected way, as indeed it requires no small attention and pains to come at Ned's[146] meaning in what he narrates, because he speaks the Scots exceedingly ill. I therefore desired Ned to be with me in my own room upon Wednesday's afternoon, September 9th, that I might have the opportunity of going through his Journal with him at leisure, and likewise of having an account from his own mouth how he happen'd to be so lucky as to escape being made a prisoner, when so many were catched upon the Long Isle, where he skulked for some time. Ned kept his appointment, as will hereafter appear.
Though Donald MacLeod's history be most extraordinary in all the several instances of it (especially considering his advanced age), yet when he arrived at Leith, he had not wherewith to bear his charges to Sky, where he has a wife and children, from whom he had been absent for at least one year and an half. There was therefore a contribution set on foot for him in and about Edinburgh; and I own I had a great anxiety for my own share to make out for honest Palinurus (if possible) a pound sterling for every week he had served the Prince in distress; and (I thank God) I was so happy as to [fol. 320.] accomplish my design exactly. Donald MacLeod and James MacDonald came from the Links of Leith to my room, as they were to sup that night with my Lady Bruce upon invitation. I then delivered into Donald's own hand, in lieu of wages for his services of ten weeks,
| £10 | 0 | 0 Sterling. | |
| Vide page hujus 261, | 6 | 11 | 0 |
| Vide vol. i. page 73, | 37 | 1 | 6 |
| — | — | — | |
| In all, | £53 | 12 | 6 |
| — | — | — |
The above sum went through my hands in the compass of about thirteen months and an half. Meantime I have not reckoned up a guinea, half a guinea, or a crown, which I had from time to time from my Lady Bruce, as a necessitous sufferer happened to come in the way.
God Almighty bless and reward all those who liberally contributed for the support of the indigent and the deserving in times of the greatest necessity and danger, for Jesus Christ's sake. Amen and Amen.
20 Aug.
At the same time above mentioned, I gave Donald MacLeod the trouble of two letters, copies whereof follow.
[Copy of a Letter to Mr. Alexander MacDonald of Kingsburgh in Sky.]
7 Sept.
Dear Sir,—I could not think of honest Palinurus's setting out upon his return to Sky, without giving you the trouble of some few lines, to wish you and Mrs. MacDonald much joy [fol. 321.] and happiness in being at your own fireside again. You and all your concerns are frequently made mention of here with very much respect; and so long as a spark of honesty remains, the name of MacDonald of Kingsburgh will ever have a mark of veneration put upon it.
You know very well how I employ much of my time in a certain affair. I have already made up a collection of between twenty-four and thirty sheets of paper, and I would fain flatter myself with the hopes of still increasing the number till the collection be made compleat, by your assistance and that of other worthies who prefer truth to falshoods, and honesty to trick and deceit. Now is the time or never to make a discovery of facts and men; and it is pity to omit any expedient that may tend to accomplish the good design.
I gave Captain Malcolm MacLeod the trouble of a written Memorandum, which I hope you will honour with a plain and distinct return; and hereby I assure you no other use shall be made of it but to preserve it for posterity; it being my intention not so much as to speak of it, and to make a wise and discreet use of every discovery I am favoured with.
[fol. 322.] I wish the worthy Armadale would be so good as to give his part of the management from his own mouth. But as I have writ fully by the same hand to the faithful Captain Malcolm MacLeod upon this and some other particulars, to his letter I refer you, and I hope you will join your endeavours with him in serving the cause of truth and justice.
For my own part I am resolved to leave no stone unturn'd to expiscate facts and characters, that so the honest man may be known and revered, and those of the opposite stamp may have their due.
That God Almighty may ever have you, Mrs. MacDonald, and all your concerns in His holy care and protection, is the hearty and earnest prayer of, my dear Sir, your most affectionate friend and very humble servant,
Robert Forbes.
Citadel of Leith, September 7th, 1747.
P.S.—Palinurus has promised to drop me a line by post to inform me of his safe arrival, and about your welfare, and that of other friends. Pray keep him in mind of his promise, and let him not mention any other thing in his letter. Is it possible to get Boisdale's part from himself? I would gladly have it. You see I am exceedingly greedy. Adieu.[147]