A night or two previous to the
battle of Culloden, three or four gentlemen, retainers of Prince Charles,
and who were residing in the same house with him at Inverness, were
amusing themselves with a game at cards. During the evening, one of the
latter suddenly disappeared, and, though anxiously sought for, could
nowhere be found. "Curse the card!" exclaimed one of the gentlemen
impatiently, after looking for it for some time in vain—"I wish it were in
the Duke of Cumberland’s throat." The missing card was the nine of
diamonds. The gentlemen, however, determined not to be baulked of their
sport, contrived to do without the lost article, and played on till bed
time.
Two days after this, the battle of
Culloden was fought; and, as is well known, the insurgent army was totally
defeated and the hopes of the unfortunate Adventurer laid prostrate for
ever.
One consequence of this event was,
that Inverness was thrown open to the Royalists, and thither, accordingly,
the victorious general, the Duke of Cumberland, directed his steps after
the engagement.
It was a practice of the Duke’s, on
arriving at any town or village which had been previously visited by
Charles, to inquire for the house, nay, for the very apartment and bed he
had occupied, and to take possession of them for his own use, alleging,
shrewdly enough, as a reason for this conduct, that they were sure to be
the best in the place. In conformity with this practice, the Duke, on
arriving at Inverness, inquired for the house in which Charles had
stopped; and it being pointed out to him, he immediately took up his abode
in it.
On the day after the engagement, it
was reported to the Duke, that a great number of the wounded insurgents
and others were still wandering, or in concealment, in the neighbourhood
of the field of battle. The ruthless general—whose natural cruel
disposition and sullen temper seem to have been fearfully excited by the
resistance he had met with, and by the trouble it had cost him to subdue
the rebellion in Scotland—on being informed of this circumstance, gave
instant orders that a party of military should be sent out to destroy the
unfortunate men wherever they could be found.
A strong body of troops were
accordingly immediately dispatched on this sanguinary mission. But the
officer in command of the party, after proceeding some way on his dreadful
errand, suddenly recollected that he had no written authority for the
horrible atrocity he was ordered to see perpetrated, the commands of the
Duke having been merely verbal. Desirous of being better secured against
any consequences which might arise from the shocking proceeding in which
he was about to be engaged, he hastened back to Inverness, sought an
audience of the Duke, and respectfully requested him to give him his
orders in writing.
"No occasion whatever," said the
Duke, sternly, and somewhat irritated at the want of confidence which the
demand implied. "Do as you are desired, sir. I’ll answer for the
consequences."
The officer, however, continued to
press his request, and reiterated his desire to be put in possession of
documentary evidence that what he was about to do was done by authority.
Impatient at his importunity, and
desirous of getting quit at once of the subject and his pertinacious
visitor, the Duke hurriedly looked about the apartment for paper on which
to write the desired order; but he could see none. While looking for the
paper, however, he accidentally turned up a corner of the carpet with his
foot, and brought to view a card which had been lying beneath it. The Duke
observing it hastily stooped down and picked it up, exclaiming as he did
so—"Oh, here, this will do well enough for the death-warrant of a parcel
of rebel scoundrels!" And he immediately wrote the fatal order with a
pencil on the back of the card. This card was the nine of diamonds, the
same which had been lost a few evenings before; and such is one version,
at any rate, of that tradition that has given to this particular card the
startling title of "The curse of Scotland."