They arrived at Linlithgow, where they halted; and the next day they marched to Edinburgh. There the mob, and lower orders of people, were very free in their expressions, and some of the higher also spoke very warmly, in favour of Prince Charles; making it appear clearly, by their own account, that nothing could prevent his coming to the Crown.
The next morning as many of Captain Thornton’s men as had escaped being taken prisoners, (about forty-eight in number,) assembled; and none of them being quite certain of having seen the Captain since he left them with the cannon in the bog, they supposed him to have shared the fate of many other brave men who had fallen in the action of that day, and which they all sincerely lamented—not only on account of the favours he had individually conferred on them, but for the great and liberal example which he had invariably shewn to his brother officers, in the care and attention which he paid to his men in general; the natural consequence of which was, that he possessed the love and confidence of the soldiery. The disappearance, also, of the two other officers, and twenty of their men, greatly dispirited them; and, together with the suspension from their regular pay, induced some of them to apply to Metcalf for a supply, in order to carry them home; but he laudably refused any aid he might have afforded them, on being informed of the purpose for which it was required.
The army being fixed at Edinburgh, the head-quarters were at the Abbey. The superior officers sent for Metcalf, thinking it a singular circumstance that a person deprived of sight should enter into the army; and knowing that his master was missing, they desired to converse with him. One of the officers belonging to the dragoons who retreated from Falkirk speaking ironically of Thornton’s men, asked Jack how he got off the field of battle.—Metcalf answered, “I found it very easy to follow by the sound of the dragoon horses, they made such a clatter over the stones.” This reply made the gentlemen turn the laugh against him. Colonel Cockayne likewise asked how he durst venture into the service, blind as he was; to which he replied, “that had he possessed a pair of good eyes, he would never have come there to have risked the loss of them by gunpowder.” Then making his obeisance, he withdrew: For Metcalf, though he had not read books, had read men; and received his knowledge from the school of the world.
He now determined upon a journey to Falkirk, in search of his Captain; but this being attended with difficulty, he applied to a Knaresborough man who lived at Edinburgh and was of the rebel party, telling him that he wished to be a musician to Prince Charles, as he found it was all over with the English. The man informed him that they had a spy, an Irishman, going to the Prince; on which Metcalf set forward with him, and he promised to recommend him on their arrival at Falkirk; but on coming up to the English out-sentries, they were stopped:—Metcalf inquired for the Captain, and informed him of the real cause of his journey: by him he was kindly advised to lay aside his project, and told that he would lose his life; but still persisting, he proceeded with the spy, and arrived at Linlithgow, where they stayed all night. They met with several women who had been upon plunder, and were then on their return to Edinburgh; and the spy instructed them how to avoid the English sentries. Metcalf was very careful to examine the cloathes they had got, thinking that by chance he might meet with some of his Captain’s, ignorant as he was of his fate. One of the women sent a token by Metcalf to her husband, who was Lord George Murray’s cook: this woman’s guide was a horse-dealer, who soon became acquainted with Metcalf, having frequented the fairs in Yorkshire; and at this time by some means had got introduced to the heads of both armies, and obtained a protection from each to press horses occasionally.—This man’s fate was remarkable; for going into Stirling, where the King’s army lay, he found that orders were given to let no strangers pass without an examination, which he underwent, and said that he had a protection from General Huske: being ordered to produce it, he had the misfortune to take that out of his pocket which he had got from the Pretender; and when informed of his mistake, instantly produced the other—but too late; for he was tied up by the neck to a lamp-iron, without giving him time to put off his boots.
A short time before Metcalf and the spy left the ’Change-house at Linlithgow, some of the van guard of the rebels came in, and called for whiskey; and it was supposed that they dropped there a silver-mounted pistol, which, on their setting out, the spy picked up, and offered to Metcalf; but he refused it, saying, he thought it not proper to have fire-arms about him, as he expected to be searched: so they pursued their journey and presently fell in with the rebels out-guard, several of whom, accosted Metcalf, and as all seemed well, they were allowed to pass, and arrived at Falkirk, where he inquired for Lord George Murray’s cook, to deliver his present, and was afterwards introduced to and conversed with his Lordship, Secretary Murray, and other gentlemen. Lord George gave him part of a glass of wine, an article at that time of great value; for as the rebels had been there three times, and the English twice, they had almost swept the cupboard clean of its crumbs.
Whilst conversing with them, he was very circumspect, knowing that his life was in danger, if the real purpose of his journey should be discovered.
He then made his way towards the market-place, where a number of Highlanders were assembled.—This was on Wednesday the 22d; but it happened that his master had left the place that morning, about four hours before his arrival.
We will now return to Captain Thornton, whom we left on Friday in the closet, in close neighbourhood with the Highland Chiefs, who every day transacted business in the room. The Quarter-Masters of the rebel army having taken the house, had given the woman to whom it belonged a small apartment backward; but every night she took care to carry him such provisions as she could convey through a crevice at the bottom of the door; and this mode she used for fear of alarming these who slept in the adjoining rooms. The closet was only a yard and a half square; and the Captain’s cloathes being wet when he entered, made his situation the more uncomfortable, as he had got a severe cold, and sometimes could not forbear coughing, even when the rebels were in their room. Once in particular, hearing a cough, they said one to another “what is that?” but one of them answered, that it was somebody in another room;—not in the least suspecting a door in the place where the closet was.
On Monday night the woman of the house went to the door to carry provisions as usual, when the Captain said to her, “I am determined to come out, let the consequence be what it may; for I will not die like a dog in this hole;” but she begged that he would bear his confinement till the next night, and she would adopt some plan to effect his escape. She accordingly consulted an old carpenter, who was true to the Royal cause, and he came the next night, removed the dresser, and liberated the Captain. They proceeded down stairs in the dark, to the woman’s apartment, where she made tea, whilst the carpenter concerted their plan of operation. They dressed him in a pladdie and brogues, with a black wig, and the carpenter packed him up a bag of tools, as if he was going with his master to work as soon as it was light. The Captain had only ten guineas about him, (having lost his cash with his Lieutenant, Mr. Crofts) eight of which he gave to the woman who had so faithfully preserved him, and two to the carpenter, who, to secrete them, put them into his mouth along with his tobacco, fearful of a search by the Highlanders, who would have suspected him had they found more than a shilling. Every thing being ready, they set out, the Captain with his bag of tools following his supposed master. On coming into the croud, he looked about, and was rather behind; and although in disguise, did not look like a common workman which making the old man dread a discovery, he called out to him, “Come alang, ye filthy loon: ye have had half a bannock and a mutchkin of drink in your wame—we shall be too late for our day’s wark.” Whether this artifice served him or not, is uncertain; but they got safe through the throng, and, leaving the high-road, pursued their journey across the country. Having come to a rising ground, the Captain took a view of Falkirk moor, and said, “Yonder’s the place where such a sad piece of work was made of it on Friday last.” The old man at the same time looking the other way, saw two or three hundred Highlanders, who had been on plunder, coming down a lane which led from Callendar-House (Lord Kilmarnock’s seat) into the main road; and being desirous of passing the end of this lane before they came up, in order to avoid them, said, “We shall have a worse piece of work of it than we had on Friday, if you do not hasten your pace;” and begged the Captain to come forward, which he did; but walking briskly up a hill, he suddenly stopped, and said, “I am sick:” however they gained their point, and passed the Highlanders; for had they come up with them, the least injury would have been a march back to Falkirk, as prisoners. On going two miles farther, they arrived at a house belonging to a friend of the carpenter’s, and which had been plundered: there the old man got an egg, but not being able to find a pan to boil it, he roasted it in peat-ashes, and gave it to the Captain, to put in his wame, for so he called his stomach. Proceeding a few miles farther, they arrived at another house, where they procured a horse for the Captain.—He arrived at the English out-posts, and making himself known was permitted to pass, and reached Edinburgh in safety.
With respect to Metcalf, whom we left at Falkirk, as his dress was a plaid waistcoat laced with gold, which he had borrowed of a friend at Edinburgh, together with a blue regimental coat faced with buff, he told the Highlanders, in answer to their inquiries, that he had been fiddling for the English officers, and that they had given him that coat, which had belonged to a man who was killed; and also that his intention was to serve in the same capacity with Prince Charles.—But a person coming up who had seen Jack at Harrogate, said, “That fellow ought to be taken up, for he has something more than common in his proceedings;” on which Metcalf was taken to the guard-room, and searched for letters, but none were found, having only a pack of cards in his pocket, which they split, to see whether they contained any writing in the folds, but finding none, he was put into a loft in the roof of the building, (where the snow came in very much) along with a dragoon, and some other prisoners, where for three days they were suffered to remain in confinement.