IN a former number we published a short
sketch, entitled as above, [See Celtic Magazine for March 1881] of
Donald Macleod, who was, in many respects, a most remarkable
character. Recently we came across a rare pamphlet, written in
1791, giving full particulars of the life and exploits of this
extraordinary Highlander, who was then still alive, in the 103rd
year of his age. As some readers may not have seen the previous
notice of Macleod, we shall give a short resumé of it as an
introduction to a more complete account of his career. Born of
parents connected with the best families in Skye, his father being
Macleod of Ullinish, and his mother one of the Macdonalds of Sleat,
he yet, through a variety of family misfortunes, had no better
provision made for him than being apprenticed to two brothers of
the name of Macpherson, stone-masons, in Inverness. Here he found
his life so hard that, after bearing it for two years, he ran off,
without a penny in his pocket, in the midst of winter, and made
his way, through many difficulties, as far south as Perth, where
he obtained a comfortable home with a worthy man, named Macdonald,
who took the friendless lad in as shop-boy, and never had cause to
repent his kindness, for young Macleod served him well and
faithfully, until the martial spirit of his ancestors was roused
within him, by the appearance in the- town of a recruiting party.
Young Donald, although only thirteen years old, and small of
stature, was so determined to enlist that, though told by the
recruiting serjeant that he was too young and too small, he
persistently followed the man about until at last he was induced
to speak to his Captain about him. This gentleman, who turned out
to be a Macdonald from Skye, on discovering that our hero was the
son of a gentleman, and also a relation of his own on the mother's
side, consented to enlist him, took him under his protection, and
promised him speedy promotion if he proved himself worthy of it.
Thus, Donald Macleod entered the army at the early age of
thirteen, to serve King William III., as a private in the Royal
Scots, then commanded by the Earl of Orkney; and it is at this
point of his chequered career that we resume the narrative of his
life.
On returning with the recruiting party to Edinburgh, the
headquarters of the regiment, his Captain introduced Donald to the
Earl of Orkney, who, struck with the determination and spirit of
his young recruit, received l'im with great kindness; and, being
informed of his good birth, took special care in having him well
seen after. Donald must have given satisfaction to his officers,
for, in about four years, we find him raised to the rank of
serjeant, and sent into Inverness-shire, in command of thirty men,
and a considerable amount of money, to raise recruits for the
Royal Scots, then ordered on foreign service. Macleod, although
only about seventeen, executed this duty to the entire
satisfaction of his officers, and soon returned with a large
number of recruits. Shortly after he embarked with his regiment
for Flanders. Here he saw plenty of active service, for the Royal
Scots were engaged in nearly all the battles of the campaign, such
as Schellenberg, Blenheim, Ramillies, and many minor engagements,
in all of which Macleod acquitted himself well and bravely, and,
fortunately, escaped without a single wound. By diligent practice
he had become by this time a very expert swordsman, which,
combined with his high spirits and almost reckless courage, caused
him to be regarded by his comrades and officers as the champion of
the regiment. This circumstance, added to his own hasty temper,
involved him in a number of private encounters or duels, in which
he always had the good fortune to come off victorious.
The
first of these took place in 1713, during the temporary cessation
of hostilities that preceded the peace of Utrecht. While walking
quietly round the ramparts of the town in which his regiment was
quartered, Macleod was rudely addressed by a French serjeant, who
taunted him on the inactivity of the British army. He sharply
replied, and in a minute he and the Frenchman were abusing each
other in a torrent of words, in which French, German, English, and
Gaelic were commingled. A challenge was quickly given by the
Frenchman, and as quickly accepted by the Highlander; and at the
time and place ap. pointed they duly met to decide their quarrel
with the sword. In a short time the Frenchman fell mortally
wounded; when, with his last breath, he acknowledged having been
the aggressor, and, giving his watch to Macleod, begged him to
accept it as a peace offering.
Shortly afterwards peace was
concluded, when the army prepared to return home. Pickets were
sent out to bring in deserters, and Serjeant Macleod went with a
party for this purpose to the town of Breda, where he found two
deserters. On seizing them, he was accosted by a French officer,
who declared that he had just enlisted the men in the French
service, and swore that he would keep them. Macleod was as
determined to take them, and the altercation between the two ended
by the Highlander challenging the Frenchman, who, being a
lieutenant, had to get permission from his superior officer to
fight a duel with a man inferior in rank. This being secured, the
two immediately set to; but the lieutenant was no match for
Macleod, and was soon disabled. The two deserters were at once
give up on the Highlander paying the enlistment money which the
men had received, and already spent.
On another occasion, when
quartered at Lisle, the Skyeman was taking a walk with two ladies,
when a German trooper passed, and, with a scowling brow, muttered
in German, "The devil take the whole of such dogs!" "What is that
you say?" exclaimed Macleod, starting forward. The German repeated
the malediction, when, in a second, he found Macleod's sword
flashing in his face. This was too much for the German's courage,
and he took to his heels. A German officer, however, who had
witnessed the affair, annoyed at his countryman's pusillanimity,
rushed forward, sword in hand, and fiercely attacked Macleod, who,
confident in his skill, cooly parried the officer's blows, and
soon found he would have no difficulty in disposing of his
opponent; but having no personal grievance against the German, and
admiring his courage, he determined not to kill him, but to give
him a good lesson, and by a rapid pass he sliced off a piece of
the German's fat leg, and asked him if he was satisfied with that
On receiving an answer in the negative, he wounded him smartly in
the sword arm, when the German said "It is enough." Macleod then
assisted his late opponent to his quarters, where, after his wound
was dressed, he insisted upon the Skyeman staying and drinking
with him. This he did, drinking with the wounded man until a late
hour, when they separated the best of friends, with kisses and
embraces after the fashion of the country.
His next encounter
was in Ireland, his regiment being afterwards stationed in Dublin.
In another regiment, also stationed at Dublin, was an Irishman,
named Maclean, who was a giant in size, and possessed of great
muscular strength. One of this man's officers, a Lieutenant
Maclean, was anxious to get up a match between the Irish champion
and Macleod, and for this purpose waited upon Captain Macdonald,
of the Royal Scots, and begged the required permission. The
Captain readily consented, having every confidence in 'the
agility, experience, and skill of his favourite serjeant. The
contest created great interest among the officers and men of both
regiments, and a large amount of money was laid in bets on the
result. Macleod was now in his twenty-sixth year, and, though not
a big man—his height was only five feet seven—he was so uncommonly
active and such a known master of his weapon, that his backers had
no fear of his success.
When the two met, they took a good look
at one another, whereupon the Irishman said, "I hear you are a
good swordsman, will you fight me for five guineas?" "As you are a
Maclean," replied Donald, "it shall not cost you so much; I will,
for the name's sake, fight you for one guinea." They then, to show
there was no ill-will between them, formally shook hands, when the
Irishman squeezed Macleod's to such effect that he roared out with
the pain, creating great laughter among Maclean's friends.
Macleod, however, soon recovered his composure, and made a mental
vow that the squeeze should cost the Irishman his right arm.
Before they began the combat, Maclean, who was proud of his great
muscular strength, made a bet of two guineas that Macleod could
not turn his wrist from the position he should place it in. The
bet accepted, Maclean laid his right arm flat on a table; when
Macleod, by a sudden jerk, turned it, and won the wager, much to
the Irishman's disgust, as this was one of the feats at which he
had never yet been beaten. The duel now commenced in earnest, and
in spite of Maclean's great height and strength, Macleod's skill
won the day, ending by cutting off his opponent's right arm; when
he was declared the winner amid the applause of his friends of the
Royal Scots.
In 1715 Macleod's regiment was ordered to Scotland,
to assist in subduing the Rising under Lord Mar. They joined the
main army, under the Duke of Argyll, at Stirling, while the Earl
of Mar's army was quartered at Perth. Among his followers was a
noted Highland cattle-lifter, from Knoydart, named Captain
Macdonald. This man was an excellent swordsman, and boasted that
he could beat any man in Argyll's army. Lord Mar, having faith in
the man's strength and skill, and wishing to keep up the spirit of
his followers, gave his permission to Macdonald to challenge any
single man in the opposing army to single combat. Macdonald
accordingly appeared before the Duke of Argyll, accompanied by a
trumpet from Mar, and boldly challenged any man among his
followers to single combat. The Duke, who was an excellent
swordsman himself, had no objection to the display, and, on
Serjeant Macleod being pointed out to him as the most suitable man
to accept the gage of battle, gave his permission for the duel to
take place. The combatants met at a place appointed, about half
way between the two armies. Before beginning the combat, Macdonald
pulled out a flask of whisky, and offered Donald a drink; but,
though fond enough of a dram, Macleod knew this was not the time
to indulge, so he refused, and the two went at it Macleod soon
found himself master of the position; but, having no grudge
against his opponent, he wished to close the fight without
bloodshed, so, with a rapid pass, he cut off the Captain's
sporran, and, then, demanding a parley, exclaimed, "I have cut off
your purse; is there anything more I must cut off before you give
up?" Macdonald, finding himself no match for Macleod, reluctantly
owned himself beaten, and, leaving his sporran behind him in token
of his defeat, went back with a very bad grace to his comrades.
The Earl of Mar was so pleased with Macleod's skill, that he sent
him a present of ten guineas, which the Duke of Argyll
supplemented by another ten, so that Donald made a good day's
work, besides getting all the honour of victory.
Macleoid,
however, did not meet with his usual good fortune at the next
battle at which he was engaged—Sheriffmuir—which is thus truly
described in the old rhyme:-
"Some say that we
ran, and some say that they ran,
And some say that none ran at
all, man,
But of one thing I'm sure, that at Sheriffmuir
A
battle there was, which I saw, man."
Donald made himself
conspicuous by the havoc his trusty broadsword was making in the
ranks of the enemy, and so attracted the notice of a brave French
officer, who, on this occasion, had the courage to fight him, but
by one powerful sweep of Macleod's sword his head was severed from
his body. A French horseman, seeing his officer fall, sprang
forward to avenge him, but, fortunately for Macleod, a small
water-course lay between him and the Frenchman, though it did not
prevent the latter from reaching the Highlander with his long
sword, and wounding him in the shoulder. The pain produced roused
Macleod to frenzy, and, with a wild yell, he leaped the stream,
and plunged his sword in the body of the Frenchman's horse, which
at once fell with its rider; but the latter managed to give the
Skyeman a fearful cut on the head, fracturing his skull, and
laying open his brain. The infuriated Celt, however, kept his feet
long enough to dispatch his opponent, and afterwards to tie up his
own broken head with his pocket handkerchief, "for fear," as he
said, "it should fall in two halves." He was then carried to the
rear, and afterwards taken to Stirling. When able to be moved, he
was sent to Chelsea Hospital, where he remained until his wound
was sufficiently healed to admit of his joining his regiment.
Some time, about the year 1720, while stationed in Newcastle,
Macleod heard that a Highland Regiment was to be raised for the
service of the Government. It was proposed that the regiment
should be composed of independent companies, under different
leaders, for the purpose of preventing the numerous robberies then
so prevalent in the Highlands, for enforcing the law, and keeping
the peace of the country. It was understood that the men should
not be expected nor asked to go on foreign service, but only to
act as Fencibles at home. Lord Lovat was to have the command of
one of the companies. Macleod immediately resolved to join this
regiment, though, by doing so, he would lose his position and pay
as a serjeant in the regular army. For this purpose, he waited
upon Major Wm. Scott, the senior officer then with the Royal
Scots, and told him he had come to seek a favour of him. "You
deserve any favour, Macleod," said the good old Major, "that I can
grant; but I first desire the favour of you to take a dram." This
request being readily complied with by the Highlander, he told
Major Scott that he wished to have his discharge from the
regiment. The Major expressed his astonishment at this request,
especially as he knew that Macleod stood high in favour with Lord
Orkney and with all the officers, and that it was generally
understood that he would, at no distant date, be raised to the
rank of a commissioned officer. He argued with Macleod at some
length on the folly of giving up such good prospects, but, finding
him immovable, he felt that he had no alternative but to grant his
discharge, on condition that he should pay fifteen guineas to pay
for another man qualified to take his place and rank.
Having
obtained his discharge, Macleod made his way to Edinburgh, and
presented himself before Lord Orkney. "How now, Macleod? How do ye
do? Is all the regiment well?" "Yes, please your Lordship; but I
have left the regiment;" showing at the same time his discharge.
"Who dares," exclaimed his Lordship, with an oath, "to give a
discharge to any man in my regiment without consulting me?"
Macleod then explained how he had requested the favour, and was
promised it before Major Scott knew the nature of it, and soon
pacified his Lordship, who, though a hasty man, was also a good
tempered one. Calling to his servant, he asked him to ascertain
how much he was indebted to Macleod. On being told that the sum of
£20 was due, the Earl declared, with a volley of oaths, that he
had not enough to pay that amount. "Never mind, my Lord," Macleod
replied, who well knew that his Lordship was generally poor, "I
will wait, when it may be convenient, on your Lordship's mother,
the Countess Dowager of Orkney, as I have done before." He then
took his leave of his Lordship, who shook him heartily by the
hand, at the same time telling him that he was a great fool to
leave the regiment. Macleod soon found his way to the Countess,
who had often stood paymaster for her son; and she readily paid
him, and took his receipt, for all his demands.
Being all
impatience to offer his services to Lord Lovat, Macleod set out on
foot from Edinburgh about three o'clock one summer morning, and at
about the same hour on the second day after, he stood on the green
of Castle Downie, Lord Lovat's residence. During this long journey
Macleod took only the simplest food, which he carried with him,
washed down at intervals with draughts of mountain dew. Nor did he
go to bed the whole time; but once or twice slept in the open air
by the road-side for an hour or two.
The following interesting
description of Lord Lovat and his interview with Macleod, is taken
from the pamphlet already referred to:—" As Macleod walked up and
down on the lawn before the house, he was soon observed by Lord
Lovat, who immediately went out, and, bowing to the Serjeant with
great courtesy, invited him to come in. Lovat was a fine looking,
tall man, and had something very insinuating in his manners and
address. He lived in all the fulness and dignity of the ancient
hospitality, being more solicitous, according to the genius of
feudal times, to retain and multiply adherents, than to accumulate
wealth by the improvement of his estate. As scarcely any fortune,
and certainly not his fortune, was adequate to the extent of his
views, he was obliged to regulate his unbounded hospitality by
rules of prudent economy. As his spacious hail was crowded by
kindred visitors, neighbours, vassals, and tenants of all ranks,
the table, that extended from one end of it nearly to the other,
was covered at different places with different kinds of meat and
drink, though of each kind there was always great abundance. At
the head of the table the lords and lairds pledged his lordship in
claret, and sometimes champagne; the tacksmen or duinwassels,
drank port or whisky punch; tenants or common husbandmen,
refreshed themselves with strong beer; and below the utmost extent
of the table, at the door, and sometimes without the door of the
hail, you might see a multitude of Frasers, without shoes or
bonnets, regaling themselves with bread and onions, with a little
cheese, perhaps, and small beer. Yet, amidst the whole of this
aristocratical inequality, Lord Lovat had the address to keep all
his guests in perfect good humour. 'Cousin,' he would say to such
and such a tacksman, 'I told my pantry lads to hand you some
claret, but they tell me ye like port and punch best.' In like
manner, to the beer-drinkers he would say, 'gentlemen, there is
what ye please at your service; but I send you ale, because I
understand ye like ale best.' Everybody was thus well pleased; and
none were so ill-bred as to gainsay what had been reported to his
Lordship. Donald Macleod made his compliments to Lovat in a
military air and manner, which confirmed and heightened that
prepossession in his favour, which he had conceived from his
appearance. 'I know,' said he, 'without your telling me, that you
have come to enlist in the Highland Watch. For a thousand such men
as you, 1 would give my estate!' Macleod acknowledged the justice
of his Lordship's presentiments; and, at his request, briefly
related his pedigree and history. Lovat clasped him in his arms,
and kissed him; and, holding him by the hand, led him into an
adjoining bed-chamber, in which Lady Lovat, a daughter of the
family of Macleod, lay. He said to his Lady, 'My dear, here is a
gentleman of your own name and blood, who has given up a
commission in Lord Orkney's regiment, in order to serve under me.'
Lady Lovat raised herself in her bed, congratulated his Lordship
on so valuable an acquisition, called for a bottle of brandy, and
drank prosperity to Lord Lovat, the Highland Watch, and Donald
Macleod. It is superflous to say, that in the toast, the Lady was
pledged by the gentlemen. Such were the customs and manners of the
Highlands of Scotland in those times. By the time they returned to
the hail, they found the Laird of Clanronald, who, having heard
Macleod's history, said, 'Lovat, if you do not take care of this
man, you ought to be shot' His Lordship immediately bestowed on
him the same rank, with somewhat more pay than he had in the Royal
Scots, and, after a few days, sent him away to recruit."
DONALD
MACLEOD passed the next twenty years of his life in the Highlands
of Scotland. He was promoted by Lord Lovat to the lucrative post
of Drill-Serjeant,. the duties of which position he fulfilled to
the entire satisfaction of his officers. His leisure hours were
agreeably spent in hunting, fishing, and practising with his
favourite broadsword.
One of the principal reasons for the
regiment being raised was to put down the numerous cattle-lifters
or gentlemen- robbers, as they were called, which at that time
were so plentiful in the Highlands, and who, by their daring and
dexterity in avoiding capture, had become a terror to all the
peaceable inhabitants. Tracking out and apprehending these
desperadoes was a work of no little difficulty, requiring both
intelligence and courage. Donald Macleod was found especially
suited for the work, and was often employed in it.
On one
occasion he was ordered to take thirty men under his command, and
to apprehend a very famous freebooter, James Roy Stewart, whose
frequent depredations had made him the terror of the district.
Macleod having got information where to find him on a particular
day, went to his residence very early in the morning, quietly
posted his men round the house, and then went boldly inside alone.
Although at such an early hour the wife of Stewart was up and
dressed, it being her custom to keep watch while her husband
slept, she was greatly discomposed and alarmed at the sight of the
Serjeant, but striving to regain her composure, she welcomed him
with all the signs of that cheerful hospitality always shown by
Highlanders to strangers. Her distress was redoubled on hearing
Macleod say firmly, though politely, "Madam!, I am come to seek
James Roy. He is in the house, I know, and in bed." Though Macleod
said this at a venture, he was soon convinced of the truth of his
suspicions by seeing the poor woman turning pale and quite unable
to deny the fact that her husband was in at the time. In the
meantime James Stewart hearing that he was discovered leapt out of
bed, where he had lain with his clothes on, seized his dirk and
pistols, and made a rush to the door. Macleod, however, was too
quick for him, and soon barred his escape. Seeing this, Stewart
changed his tactics, threw aside his weapons, courteously saluted
his unwelcome guest, and calling for whisky, bread, and cheese,
pressed Macleod to sit down and partake of what refreshment the
house afforded, at the same time saying. "I know you are not
alone; for no man ever durst come into my house alone on such an
errand." To this Macleod answered boldly, that he feared neither
him nor any other man, but owned to having his men round the
house, making it impossible for Stewart to escape. "Very well,"
said the latter," but I hope you are not in a hurry; sit down and
let you and I talk together, and take our breakfast." Macleod
agreed, and a bottle of whisky at least was exhausted in good
fellowship before a word further was said of the business of the
visit on either side. At length Macleod, after a short pause in
the conversation, said—
"Jamie, what did you do with the thirty
head of cattle you drove away from the Laird of Glen Bisset's, and
the six score, or thereabouts, that you took away from the lands
of Strathdown?"
Stewart was somewhat nonplussed at such a direct
inquiry; but it was in vain to deny the fact, which was evidently
well known to his interrogator. So without either admitting or
denying his guilt, Stewart replied-
"Serjeant Macleod, let me go
for this time, and neither you nor the country will be troubled
with me any more."
"Jamie, I cannot let you go; you have slashed
many men, and stolen many horses and cattle. How many straths are
afraid of you? No, Jamie, you must go with me."
"Serjeant,"
replied Stewart, "let me go this time and I will give you a
hundred guineas."
"It was not for guineas, Jamie, that I came
here this day, and rather than be drawn off from the duty of a
soldier for a few guineas, I would go with you and steal cattle."
Finding bribery of no avail, Stewart had recourse to entreaty in
which he was joined by his wife and four young children, who clung
around Macleod with tears and sobs. The affecting sight was too
much for the tender-hearted Serjeant, so he agreed to a compromise
to the effect that he would not seize Stewart, this time, if he
would give up all the cattle he had lately stolen, and also
provide refreshment for the thirty men on guard outside. These
conditions were thankfully accepted, and Stewart anxiously pressed
his visitor to accept at least a portion of the money offered him
before; but Macleod would not take a single penny. When his men
were rested and fed, they collected the cattle, and drove them to
their respective owners, who were much better pleased at getting
their property back than even if the robber himself had been
apprehended.
Before charging Macleod with not doing his duty on
this occasion, it must be borne in mind that at this time the
Highlands were in a very lawless state, and to the military, who
acted as detectives, policemen, and often as judges, a very great
deal of discretionary power in cases of this kind was allowed and
exercised by officers of all ranks.
On another occasion Macleod
was tempted to compromise with a thief, although his motive for
doing so was not so disinterested as in the former instance. He
was sent in command of a small party to apprehend a notorious
horse-dealer, named James Robertson, who lived in Athole, and who
stole the horses first and then sold them. The distance was long,
the day warm, and the Serjeant, who always liked his dram, stayed
rather too long and drank rather too deeply at Aberfeldie, so that
by the time he reached Robertson's house he was somewhat elevated.
The wily horse-thief was at no loss to account for the soldier's
visit, and, seeing his condition, did his best to keep him in good
temper, and protract the time so that he could have a chance of
making his escape. Robertson had four very handsome daughters,
with one of whom Macleod was much taken. The young woman, at a
sign from her father, encouraged Macleod's attentions, until at
length Macleod proposed to marry her. Robertson now saw his
advantage, and would only listen to Macleod's proposal on
condition that he should himself be allowed to escape on giving up
possession of the horses he had stolen. The amorous Serjeant
agreed to this, only stipulating that the marriage should take
place at once. This was accomplished by the easy ceremony of
acknowledging Miss Robertson as his wife before witnesses. He then
dismissed the men under his command to a small village at a little
distance where he would join them in the morning. Robertson,
however, was not satisfied with the bargain, and he no sooner saw
Macleod retired for the night than he sent privately for four
young men, his neighbours, one of whom had been a suitor for the
newly- made bride, to come and attack Macleod, who, he thought, in
his present state, would prove an easy victim. In this, however,
he found himself mistaken, for no sooner did the valiant Serjeant
hear the noise made by the young men entering the house than be
sprang up, seized his trusty sword, and laid about him with such
good will that he soon put all four of them to flight.
Robertson
tried to make him believe that the young men had come to the house
by accident, but the enraged Highlander would not believe him;
but, calling him a liar and a traitor, swore he would seize him
and give him up to justice, which he doubtless would have done,
had not Robertson's daughter, whose charms had so captivated him,
here come to the rescue, and throwing her arms round Macleod's
neck, with many tears and kisses, begged him to let her father go.
Her entreaties at length prevailed, and her father was allowed to
escape on giving up the stolen horses. The marriage, so hastily
arranged, turned out a happier one than might have been expected;
for, in the account of his after life, it is stated that he
cherished her as every good and tender husband ought to cherish
his wife, until she died in child-bed of her first child, a boy,
who afterwards became a thriving tailor in Edinburgh.
Towards
the close of the year 1739 the independent companies of the
Highland Watch were increased by four additional companies, and
the whole formed into a regiment—the 43d— now the 42nd Royal
Highlanders, under the command of their first Colonel, John, Earl
of Crawford. About a year afterwards they were somewhat surprised
at being ordered to London, because when the independent companies
were raised it was distinctly understood that they should not be
called upon for foreign service, nor at any time to serve out of
their own country. The suspicions of the men were roused, but on
being assured that the only object of their going to London was to
be reviewed by the King, who had never seen a Highland Regiment,
they went cheerfully enough. During their progress through England
they were everywhere well received and hospitably treated, so that
they entered London in high spirits and with perfect confidence.
Here, however, their former suspicions of unfair dealing returned
with redoubled force, on finding that the King had sailed a few
days before for Hanover. The populace, too, treated them to taunts
and sneers, which the Highland blood could ill brook, and, to
crown all, certain Jacobites industriously circulated reports that
the regiment had been inveigled to London for the purpose of
having them transported to the colonies, and so rid the country of
a lot of Jacobites at one blow. Unfortunately these
misrepresentations were too readily believed, and the greater part
of the regiment broke out into open mutiny.
We quote the
following description, by the biographer of Macleod, as it places
in a somewhat different light, the account of the outbreak given
by the historians of the period:- "What happened on that occasion
falls within the memory of many persons now living (1791), and
will be long remembered as an instance of that indignant spirit
which justice and broken faith inspire on the one hand, and of
that gradual encroachment which executive and military power are
prone to make on civil liberty on the other. Many gentlemen's sons
and near relations had entered as private men into the Highland
Watch, under the engagement that they should never be called out
of their own country. That promise, made long before, in times of
peace, was forgotten amidst the present exigencies of unsuccessful
war, and it was determined to send the Highland companies as a
reinforcement to the army in Germany, under the Duke of
Cumberland. A spirit of resistance and revolt, proceeding from
Corporal Maclean, pervaded the whole regiment The whole of the
Guards, and all the troops stationed about London, were sent to
surround the Highlanders, quell what was now called a mutiny, and
reduce them to obedience. A great deal of blood was shed, and
lives lost on both sides. The long swords of the Horse Guards were
opposed to the broadswords of the Highlanders, in front, while one
military corps after another was advancing on their flanks and
rear. Yet, in these circumstances, a considerable party of them
forced their way through the King's troops, and made good their
retreat northwards on their way home as far as Yorkshire, where,
being overtaken by a body of horsemen, they took post in a wood,
and capitulated on safe and honourable terms. But, in violation of
the engagements come under on that occasion to the Highlanders,
three of them, among whom was the high-spirited Corporal Maclean,
the prime mover of the secession, were shot, the rest sent to the
plantations. Though Serjeant Macleod was not of the number of the
seceders, he was indignant at the usage they had met with, and
some of the Horse Guards bore for years marks of his resentment.
But the less that is said on this subject the better. The Highland
Companies, or the 42nd Regiment, were-now sent over to the Low
Countries, and to Germany, where they were engaged in different
battles, and particularly that of Fontenoy, in which Serjeant
Macleod was not a little distinguished."
As an instance of
Macleod's coolness under fire, it is related that during the
thickest of the fight at Fontenoy, he, having killed a French
Colonel, deliberately served himself heir to 175 ducats and a gold
watch which he found on his slaughtered foe. He had scarcely
secured his booty when he was fiercely attacked by a Captain James
Ramievie, an Irishman in the French service, whom, after an
obstinate and skilful combat, Macleod killed. The next moment he
was beset by three or four Frenchmen all at once, and was very
hard pressed, when a gentleman of the name of Cameron, who,
although in the French service, came to his rescue. The
gentleman's Highland heart warmed at the sight of the tartan, and
he could not see a countryman in such straits without rendering
help. Naturally, after such an episode, he could not remain in the
French service, and he immediately joined his countrymen of the
42nd. In this same battle of Fontenoy, Macleod received a musket
ball in the leg; but refusing to fall behind, he hastily bound up
his wound, and was among the first that entered the trenches.
In 1745, when the Duke of Cumberland and his army were recalled
in hot haste to oppose Prince Charles, it was not thought
advisable to take the 42nd Regiment, which had been reinforced
after Fontenoy by a large number of recruits fresh from Scotland,
along with the rest of the army. Accordingly they were ordered to
different home stations, and at last sent over to Ireland, where
they remained over ten years; and in the various encounters with
the "Whiteboys," "Hearts of Steel," and the other insurgents,
Macleod had ample opportunities of exhibiting his prowess and
skill as a swordsman.
While stationed in Ireland he was on one
occasion ordered to Scotland to recruit, and on his way stayed a
day or two in Belfast, where he met with an adventure. There
resided in that city a Scotchman named Maclean, a native of
Inverness, and a tailor by trade. This man was a fair swordsman,
and thinking himself invincible he had the temerity, when elevated
by drink, to challenge the redoubtable Highland champion to a
trial of skill. Macleod consented, but seeing the tailor
flustered, and not wishing to take an unfair advantage of him, he
advised him to reconsider the matter, and if he still felt
determined to fight he would meet him next day. This proposal the
excited tailor chose to consider insulting, and nothing would do
but to fight then and there. The two combatants, with their
seconds and a crowd of onlookers, adjourned to a field outside the
city, and the duel began. The tailor was not without skill in the
handling of his weapon, had plenty of courage, was very nimble,
but withal was no match for Macleod, who contented himself at
first with merely parrying the other's quickly delivered blows. At
length, getting annoyed at the man's obstinacy, Macleod cut off
one of his ears, then, in a second or two, the other ear was
severed similarly; yet Maclean would not yield, swearing he would
rather die a thousand deaths than yield to a Macleod, when the
Serjeant, in self-defence, continued the fight until he disabled
his opponent by finally severing one of the sinews of his leg,
thus bringing him to the ground.
In 1756 the 42nd Regiment
embarked for America, and soon after Macleod was drafted from it
to the 78th, commanded by General Fraser, to fill the advantageous
station of Drill-Serjeant. During this campaign Macleod. became
personally known to General Wolfe, who, finding that to undoubted
courage and great experience Macleod could add a tolerable
knowledge of the French and German languages, often employed him
on occasions requiring both address and resolution. He always
acquitted himself to the General's satisfaction, acknowledged by
handsome presents and promises of future preferment, which
promises, alas! the gallant young officer did not live to fulfil.
At the siege of Louisburg Macleod greatly distinguished himself by
volunteering with a handful of men to surprise the French outpost,
the latter being cut off to a man. He afterwards. received a
musket ball on his nose, which was most painful at the time, and
caused him more inconvenience afterwards than any other of his
numerous wounds.
At the glorious battle of Quebec he was among
the foremost of the Grenadiers and Highlanders who drove the
shaking line of the enemy from post to post, and ultimately
completed their defeat. In this action he had his shin-bone
shattered by grape shot, and had a musket ball through his arm.
While being assisted in this disabled state to the rear by his
comrades, he heard with unmitigated grief that his beloved General
Wolfe had been struck down. He immediately offered his plaid for
the purpose of carrying the wounded General off the field, and he
had the melancholy satisfaction of having it accepted and used for
that purpose.
In consequence of his wound, Macleod was invalided
home, and had the honour of being one of the guard deputed to take
charge of the body of General Wolfe on the journey to Britain, in
November 1759. In December of the same year he was admitted an out
pensioner of Chelsea Hospital, which was all the recognition ever
given at headquarters for the long services of the hardy veteran,
then in his 71st year.
Macleod did not, however, consider
himself an old man at this age, and no sooner were his wounds
healed, and his strength restored, than, hearing that some new
companies were being raised in the Highlands for the war in
Germany, he applied to Colonel Campbell to enlist him as a
volunteer. His services were accepted, the rank of Paymaster-Serjeant
was bestowed upon him, and he was ordered to go north to recruit.
It was while on this service at Inverness that he met with and
married his last wife, Mrs Jane Macvean, who afterwards
accompanied him with his regiment to Germany, where he served
throughout the campaign, and was twice wounded, once by a musket
ball, which went in an oblique direction between two of his ribs
and his right shoulder, and again by a ball in the groin, which
could not be extracted, and which caused him great pain and
inconvenience during the rest of his life. After peace was
proclaimed, he received pay for two or three years from Chelsea
Hospital as an out pensioner, during which time he returned and
worked at Inverness at his original trade of mason. The constant
use of the mall was, however, more than his strength could now
bear, and threatened to reopen some of his wounds. He therefore
returned to England, invested his savings in the purchase of a
small house in Chelsea, in which he lived for the succeeding ten
years, rearing up a large family, yearly increasing, and working
in an extensive manufactory of white lead, at which he earned good
wages.
In 1776, hearing that his countrymen had again embarked
for the seat of war in America, Macleod could not restrain his
longing to be once more actively engaged in the profession he
loved, so settling his house, furniture, and what little money he
had on his wife and children, he bid them good-bye, took passage
to America, landed at New York, from thence made his way to
Charleston, and, presenting himself before Lieutenant-General Sir
Henry Clinton, whom he had known and served under in Germany,
offered himself as a volunteer. Sir Henry, struck with the
military ardour and indomitable spirit of the old man, allowed him
to remain with the army as a Drill-Serjeant, and very liberally
gave him an allowance out of his own pocket of half-a-guinea
a-week. When the army began to move northwards, and was likely to
be actively engaged, the General, pitying the old man, made an
excuse to send him home with despatches to the Government Having
faithfully performed this service, and finding that he had no
further prospect of being employed in the army, Macleod resolved
to return to the Highlands, and settle down quietly for the rest
of his life. He accordingly sold his house in Chelsea, which
realised some two hundred pounds. This sum, with other small
savings which he had deposited from time to time in the hands of
Mr Alexander Macdonald, a clerk in the King's Office, Chelsea, was
all his worldly fortune. As Mrs Macleod was very much afraid of
going by sea, her husband arranged for her and the children to
pursue their journey to Inverness by land, while he, with the
chief part of the money and several large trunks, full of arms,
clothes, and other articles on which he laid great value, set sail
in the "Margaret and Peggy," of Aberdeen, Captain Davidson,
master. This voyage turned out most disastrously, for, when on the
Coast of Yorkshire, the ship was overtaken in a severe storm,
driven on the rocks, and completely wrecked, our old soldier being
the only passenger saved, by having himself lashed to a plank
before the vessel sank. He was thrown by the waves on the beach,
and was picked up more dead than alive between Whitby and
Scarborough, and taken to the house of a hospitable gentleman
named Boyd, who originally came from Ayrshire. Here he was treated
with great kindness for several days, and as his own clothes were
rendered almost useless by the sea and the rocks, Mr Boyd supplied
him with some of his own, and though Macleod had a gold watch in
his pocket and a ring of some value on one of his fingers, his
kindly host insisted on his accepting a present of two guineas.
With this sum he started, after taking a grateful farewell of his
benefactors, to make the best of his way overland to Inverness. He
went first to Durham, from thence he made his way to Newcastle,
where, unfortunately he fell in with some old comrades with whom
he had served in many an arduous campaign. Their joy at again
meeting with each other was so great, and their temperance
inclinations so small, that the remains of the two guineas given
him by Mr Boyd was soon melted. His watch and ring was next
utilized to procure the means of conviviality, and the drinking
bout only ended from the want of any more means to prolong it.
Macleod was now on his beam ends; he, however, managed to reach
Edinburgh where he had friends, who willingly relieved his
necessities. Here he met Major Macdonald of the 84th Regiment, who
had known him while in the army, and who not only liberally
assisted him but gave him an introduction to Lady Clanranald, who
was herself a relative of Macleod. This amiable lady received him
most kindly, and not only assisted him herself, but wrote the
following letter on his behalf to her uncle, Alexander Macleod, of
Ullinish, Isle of Skye :-
"Easter Duddington,
30th December 1785.
"My Dear Uncle,—This will be given to you,
if he lives to get your length, by a person in whom all the world,
if they knew his history, would be deeply interested; much more
you and I, who, by the strongest ties of natural affection, have
every reason to be so. I will not attempt to relate his
misfortunes, but will leave them to himself. The effects of them
on his appearance is such as is sufficient to awaken all the
tender sympathetic feelings of which the human heart is capable.
It has, indeed, made an impression on my eldest daughter (the only
one of my family at home at present) and myself beyond any
incident we ever met with. Destitute totally of every means of
subsistence at the age of ninety-five, almost naked, and without a
shilling, till providentially he met with Major Macdonald, of the
84th, who gave him what enabled him to get quarters, and directed
him to my house, for which, I do assure you, he will sincerely get
my thanks if ever I meet with him. O! my dear uncle, it is
impossible to describe what an interesting object he is. The fine
old veteran! What makes him doubly interesting is that he seemed
more hurt at seeing us so much moved than by his own distress. I,
indeed, never wished more to be rich than I did at that moment.
With infinite satisfaction would I have sent him all the way to
your house, if I could have afforded it, in a carriage. And this
is no more than what his King and country owe him after a service
of from three to four score years. But now, like a true old
soldier, all that he laments is the loss of his sword. With my
daughter's assistance I made him, as he thought, rich by giving
him three guineas with some clothes I ordered him from my cloth
merchants, which will, I hope, if this severe weather will permit
him, enable him to get to your house, where, I make no doubt, he
will meet with a tender reception, and I will be anxious till I
hear of his arrival. My daughter joins me in wishing you and yours
many happy returns of the season. I ever am, dear uncle, yours,
(Signed) FLORA MACDONALD."
With the timely assistance thus
rendered, by his noble relative, Macleod was enabled to continue
his journey in more comfort, and at length arrived in Inverness,
little better off in worldly goods than when he left it more than
half a-century before as a runaway apprentice, with the exception
that he now had an affectionate wife and flourishing family, who
had been for some time anxiously awaiting his arrival.
From 1780
to 1789 he lived in Inverness, making a living by working a little
at his old trade of mason, supplemented by the small pension he
received from Chelsea Hospital; but in the latter year, finding
that, through some neglect or error, the usual remittance was not
paid, he determined, with characteristic energy, to go to London
to see after it. Accordingly, in the summer of 1789, he started,
accompanied by his wife, to walk to London, which they reached in
the beginning of August, and at once found out, and laid his
situation before, Colonel Small, a gentleman of great
philanthropy, universally respected, and under whom Macleod had
served for several years both in Ireland and America.
The
Colonel received him most kindly, entertained him at his own
house, and allowed him 1s. a-day of pocket-money as long as he
remained in London. By the advice of this gentleman he drew out a
memorial and petition, setting forth his long services and
misfortunes, and praying that he might have what was called the
King's letter; that is, that he should be placed on a list of
persons recommended by the King for a pension of a shilling a-day
for life, for extraordinary services. By the aid of Colonel Small
and other officers, Macleod had an opportunity of presenting his
petition to the King in person. We quote the description of this
interview with Royalty:- "The very first day that his Majesty
(George III.) came to St James's, after his indisposition,
Macleod, admitted to the staircase leading to the drawing-room,
presented his petition, which his Majesty graciously accepted and
looked over as he walked upstairs. At the head of the stairs the
King called him. The old Serjeant was going to fall on his bended
knee, but his humane sovereign, respecting his age, would not
suffer him to kneel, but laid his hand upon the old man's breast,
and, making him stand upright, expressed no less surprise than joy
at seeing the oldest soldier in his service in the enjoyment of so
great a share of health and strength. The sentiments that filled
his own royal breast he eagerly expressed to the different
noblemen and gentlemen that were near him. He gave it in charge to
a gentleman present to take care that the prayer of his petition
should be granted."
The name of Donald Macleod was accordingly
placed on the list, and this knowledge, together with ten guineas
received out of his Majesty's own hand, sent the old man and his
wife on their way rejoicing back to Inverness. The irony of fate,
however, still pursued the worthy couple, for although Maclod's
name was duly placed on the list, it appeared he would have to
wait for the actual receipt of his shilling a-day until there
should be a vacancy, the number of recipients being limited. This
was more than the patience of the old soldier could stand; his
King had promised him a shilling a-day, and that shilling a-day he
was determined he would get, so, once again, he and his wife,
accompanied this time by their youngest child, a boy of nine
years, set out again from Inverness on the long walk to London. On
his second appearance in London, the hardships of his case
attracted a good deal of attention, and Macleod made many
influential friends who interested themselves on his behalf. It
was on this occasion, in 1791, that the life and adventures of the
hardy old veteran, from which we have our information, was written
and published, for his behoof. A portrait of him was issued at the
same time, which found a ready sale. Among others who showed him
kindness was the celebrated scholar, Dr Rutherford, who invited
him to visit him at Uxbridge, and give him an exhibition of his
skill with the broadsword at the Academy before his pupils. After
returning from Uxbridge, and leaving the stage coach, Macleod was
in the evening walking down Park Lane, when he was set upon by
three footpads. Though armed only with a short stick he knocked
one of the rascals to the ground, but the other two crept up
behind him, threw him down, and robbed him of sixteen shillings.
The poor old man was much shaken and bruised, but still more hurt
in mind at having been overcome by the villains.
During this
visit an affecting and interesting incident occurred to him. One
day while he, his wife, and youngest boy were walking in a suburb
of London, they were overtaken by a young man, who entered into
conversation with them; and soon finding they were from the
Highlands, asked their name, and what part they came from. "My
name is Macleod," answered the old man, "my native county, and
usual place of residence, is Inverness." The young man eagerly
sought for further information, and on being told that the old
man's name was Donald, and that he had served so many years as
Serjeant in a Highland regiment, he burst into tears. Macleod
looked on with astonishment, but his wife, after looking earnestly
at the stranger, burst into tears and threw herself sobbing into
his arms, exclaiming, "O, Serjeant Macleod, do you not know your
own child?" And such, indeed, he turned out to be. This young man,
John Macleod, had left home some ten years before to seek his
fortune. He was a gardener by trade, and found good employment in
England, but never stayed long in any one place. This
circumstance, and the unsettled movements of the old Serjeant
himself, had prevented them hearing anything of each other so long
that each concluded the other was dead; and their mutual joy at
thus so accidentally meeting again was great and unrestrained.
Our account of Macleod's life ends at this period, and we have no
means of ascertaining what afterwards became of him; whether he
lived to return to Inverness and enjoy his hardly-earned pension,
or whether his long lease of life was soon ended.
When his
biography concludes he was in the enjoyment of good health and
spirits, and in his 103rd year. He could not remember the exact
number of his children by his different wives; and some of whom he
had lost sight of for years; but he knew of sixteen sons then
living, the eldest of whom was past eighty, and the youngest nine.
Twelve of them were in the King's service, either as soldiers or
sailors. He had also several daughters, who had married well. He
was still wonderfully active, and when asked as to his mode of
life, he replied, "I eat when I am hungry, and drink when I am
dry, and never go to bed but when I can't help it." It appears
that he would never retire to bed until his eyes closed, whatever
time of the night it might be, and the moment he awoke he would
spring up, wash, dress, and go out for exercise or for some duty
or other. He seemed to have a great aversion to rest, and was
always in motion. His faults were not so much of the heart, as of
the fashion of the times in which he lived and the sphere of life
in which he moved, while his virtues were characteristic of his
race and country. High- spirited, courageous, even to rashness,
yet tender in domestic life, generous, hospitable, and with a keen
sense of honour, his was a character to admire, and his
extraordinary adventures claim our sympathy and command our
interest.
M. A. ROSE.
We found an old
publication about him published in 1791
Also...
Thank you for your email concerning Donald
MacLeod presenting a petition to King George III in 1789. I have
checked through our indexes but I am afraid that I have been
unable to find any mention of Donald MacLeod, however our
records for the Georgian period are not complete. Although,
please find attached a scan of a page from the 1789 Annual
Register, which records that on the 10th October Gordon MacLeod
presented his petition to King George III, which I hope you will
find of interest.
I am sorry that we are unable to provide you with
a more detailed answer to your enquiry.
Your sincerely,
Laura Hobbs,
Archivist (Digital)
Royal Archives, Windsor Castle, Windsor, SL4 1NJ
10th October, 1789
Donald MacLeod, the Highlander, was at St. James's, to present a
petition to his majesty. This veteran is 101 years two months
old; the cause of his coming to London was on account of his
pension being refused at Chelsea: he brought every thing
necessary to prove his being the man: he walked from Inverness
in Scotland, and with him his youngest son whose age is eight
years; his eldest son in eighty; his countenance, and other
appearances, bespeak a hale character of not more than seventy:
he fought under king William, queen Anne, George the First and
Second, and bore arms for George the Third. The old man says,
when he has done his business, he shall walk back again.
Bronze Statuette
– Sergeant Donald Macleod, 78th Regiment of Foot (pdf)