The character of this
celebrated woman, heroic, yet gentle, was formed in the privacy of the
strictest Highland seclusion. She was born in the island of South Uist,
in 1720: she was the daughter of Macdonald of Milton. The Clan of her
family was that of Macdonald of Clanranald; the Chief of which is called
in Gaelic, Mack-ire-Allein, and in English, the captain of Clan Ranald.
The estate of this Chief, which is held principally from the Crown, is
situated in Moidart and Arisaig on the continent of Scotland, and m the
islands of Uist, Benbecula, and Rum. His vassals, capable of military
service, amounted in 1745 to five hundred.
The Hebrides were at that
time regarded in the more civilized parts of Europe somewhat in the same
light as the Arctic regions are now considered by the. inhabitants of
England, and other polished nations: "WVhen I was at Ferney in 1704."
Boswell relates, "I mentioned our design (of going to the Hebrides) to
Voltaire. He looked at me as if I had talked of going to the North Pole,
and said, 'You do not insist on my accompanying you?' 'No, sir.' 'Then I
am very willing you should go.' In this remote, and, in the circles of
London, almost unknown region. Flora Macdonald was born and educated.
The death of her father,
Macdonald of Milton, when she was only a year old, made an important
change in the destiny of the little Highland girl. Her mother married
again, and became the wife of Macdonald of Armadale in Skye. Flora was,
therefore, removed from the island of South Uist to an island which was
nearer to the means of acquiring information than her native place.
It was a popular error of
the times, more especially among the English Whigs, to regard the
Highlanders of every grade, as an ignorant, barbarous race. So far as
the lowest classes were concerned, this imputation might be
well-founded, though certainly not so well as it has much longer been in
the same classes in England. Previously to the reign of George the Third
many of the peasantry could not read, and many could not understand what
they read in English. There were few books in Gaelic, and the defect was
only partially supplied by the instruction of bards and seneachies. But,
among the middle and higher classes, education was generally diffused.
The excellent grammar-schools in Inverness, Fortrose. and Dunkeld sent
out men well-informed, excellent classical scholars, and these from
among that order which in England is the most illiterate — the gentlemen
farmers. The Universities gave them even a greater extent of advantages
When the Hessian troops were quartered in Atholl, the commanding
officers, who were accomplished gentlemen, found a ready communication
in Latin at every imi. Upon the Colonel of the Hessian cavalry halting
at Dunkeld, he was addressed by the innkeeper in Latin. This class of
innkeepers has wholly, unhappily, disappeared in the Highlands.
But it was in the island
of Skye that classical learning was the most general, and there an
extraordinary degree of intelligence and acquirement prevailed among the
landed gentry. "I believe," observes General Stewart, "it is rather
unique for the gentry of a remote corner to learn Latin, merely to talk
to each other; yet so it was in Skye." The acquisition of this branch of
learning was not, indeed, expensive. Latin was taught for two shillings
and sixpence the quarter, and English and writing for one shilling.
Indeed it is scarcely more now. The people seldom quitted their insular
homes, except when on service; and, to the silence of their wild
secluded scenes, the romance of poetry and the composition of song gave
a relief and a charm.
The education of Flora
Macdonald received probably little aid from the classical teacher ; but
her mind was formed, not among the rude and uncultured, but among those
who appreciated letters ; and the influence of such an advantage in
elevating and strengthening the character must be taken into account in
forming a due estimation of her heroic qualities. Thus situated, Flora
passed her life In obscurity, until, at the age of twenty-four, the
events which succeeded the battle of Culloden brought those energies,
which had been nurtured in retirement, into active exertion. Indeed,
until about a year before she engaged in that enterprise which has
rendered her name so celebrated, she had never quitted the islands of
South Uist and Skye; she had, at that time, passed about nine months in
the family of Macdonald of Largoe in Argvleshire, and this was the only
change of scene, or of sphere, which she had ever witnessed.
Her step-father was an
enemy to the cause which, from her earliest years, her heart espoused. A
company of militia had been formed to assist the British Government by
Sir Alexander Macdonald, the chieftain of one division of the clan, and
in this regiment Macdonald of Armadale held a commission as captain, at
the time when the Duke of Cumberland was "making inquisition for blood"
throughout the western Highlands. But the prepossessions of Flora were
unalienably engaged in favour of the exiled Stuarts; and they were not,
perhaps, the less likely to glow from being necessarily suppressed. Her
disposition, notwithstanding all her subsequent display of courage, was
extremely mild; and her manners corresponded to her temper. Her
complexion was fair; and her figure, though small, well-proportioned. In
more advanced life Boswell, who with Dr. Johnson visited her,
characterized her person and deportment as "genteel." There was nothing
unfeminine, cither in her form or in her manners, to detract from the
charm of her great natural vivacity, or give a tone of hardness to her
strong good sense, calm judgment, and power of decision. Her voice was
sweet and low; the harsher accents of the Scottish tongue were not to be
detected in her discourse ; and she spoke, as Bishop Forbes relates,
"English (or rather Scots) easily, and not at all through the Erse
tone." In all the varied circumstances of her life, she manifested a
perfect modesty and propriety of behaviour, coupled with that noble
simplicity of character which led her to regard with surprise the
tributes which were afterwards paid to her conduct, and to express her
conviction that far too much value was placed upon what she deemed
merely an act of common humanity.
In Skye, the "Isle of
Mist" of the poet, she could hear imperfect intelligence of the
wanderings of the Jacobite leaders. She was connected by kindred with
some under whose roof the Prince had taken refuge.
The first movement which
the Prince made after taking leave of Lord Lovat at Gortuleg, was to
repair first to Fort Augustus, and then to Invergarie near Fort
Augustus. Here he took leave of those followers who had attended him as
he quitted the field of Culloden ; and retained only Mr. O'Sullivan.
Captain O'Neil, Captain Alan Macdonald, and one Burke, a servant. It was
not until he had remained a whole day at Fort Augustus that the Prince
could be persuaded that all hopes of his troops rejoining him were at an
end. On Friday, the eighteenth of April, he went to Lochnargaig, where
he stayed one night with Dr. Cameron of Glenkearn; and on the following
day he proceeded to Oban, which is situated on a corner of Clanranald's
estate. He was, therefore, under the protection of a kinsman of Flora
Macdonald. He pursued his journey on the next day to the country of
Arisaig, and rested at a small village called Glenbeisdale, whence he
proceeded to Boradale, the place at which he had first landed in
beginning the enterprise which was now terminated.
It had been the opinion
of Clanranald, one of the Prince's most faithful adherents, that he
ought not to leave the mainland, but to take shelter in different small
huts, which should be Iv dt for his accommodation ; whilst Clanranald
should take a trip to the Isles, and look out for a vessel to convey the
unfortunate wanderer into France. By the influence of Mr. O'Sullivan
this counsel was overruled ; and Clanranald, finding that Charles was
determined to sail for Long Island, provided an eight-oared boat, which
belonged to Alexander Macdonald of Boradale; and, having provided it
with rowers and other requisites for the voyage, the party set sail from
Lochnanuagh for the Isle of Uist on the twenty-fourth of April. They
assumed false names the Prince was called Mr. Sinclair; Mr. O'Sullivan
was old Sinclair, his father; Captain Alan Macdonald, a relation of
Clanranald, became Mr. Graham. Donald Macleod the pilot, and about six
men, rowers, also accompanied the Prince, but did not change their
names; a clergyman of the Church of Borne attended the party. The design
which Charles Edward had formed, was to reach the Long Island, under
which name are comprehended those Western Islands which run in a
straight line from north to south, and are at a short distance from each
other. From some part of the Long Island Charles hoped to procure a
vessel in which he could escape to France, or at any rate to Orkney, and
thence to Norway or Sweden. At this time a proclamation, offering a
reward of thirty thousand pounds for his apprehension, had been issued
by the British Government.
The Prince set sail on
the evening of the twenty-sixth of April, embarking at Boradale, on the
very spot where he had lauded, with just sufficient daylight to get
clear of Loch Luagh; for, as the coast had been guarded by English ships
ever since his arrival in Scotland, it was not safe to go beyond the
mouth of the Loch in open day. Before the voyage was commenced, the
Prince was warned by his faithful pilot that there would be a storm that
night. "I see it coming!" But Charles Edward, anxious to leave the main
land, where parties were dispersed in pursuit of him, was determined to
trust his fate to the winds. The party, therefore, entered the boat, the
Prince seating himself at the feet of the pilot. There was also another
Macleod in the boat; this was Murdoch, the son of the pilot, a boy of
fifteen years of age. The character of this youth was of no common
order. When he had heard of the battle of Culloden, he had provided
himself with a claymore, a dirk, and a pistol ; and had run off from
school to take his chance in the field. After the defeat he found means
to trace out the road which the Prince had taken, and to follow him step
by step; "and this was the way," related Donald Macleod, "that I met wi'
my poor boy."
Another person who was in
the boat, and who afterwards made a conspicuous figure in that romance
of real life, was Ned Bourke, or Burke. This man had belonged to a most
valuable class, the chairmen of Edinburgh, whose honesty is proverbial;
their activity and civility almost incredible to English notions. Bourke
was not, as his name seemed to imply, an Irishman ; but a native of
North Cist. He had been a servant to Mr. Alexander Macleod, one of
Charles
Edward's aides-de-camp;
and was the man who had led the Prince off the field of battle, and
guided him all the way to Boradale: for Ned Bourke knew Scotland, and
indeed a great portion of England, well, having been servant to several
gentlemen. In this, his most important service, the honest man did not
disgrace his ancient and honourable calling as a chairman. "Excellent
things" were spoken of him to Donald Macleod, who seems to have made
some demur as to his Irish name, and to have objected to taking him on
board.
Thus guided, and thus
guarded, Charles Edward might fear the winds and waves; but treachery
was not to be dreaded. Not far had the men rowed before a violent storm
arose; such as even Donald had not, from his own account, ever been "trysted
with before," though he had all his life been a seafaring man. The
Prince was now as impatient to return to the land as he had been to quit
it; "for," he said, "I would rather face cannons and muskets than be in
such a storm as this!" But Donald was firm in proceeding on the voyage:
"Since we are here," he replied, "we have nothing for it, but, under
God, to set out to sea directly." He refused to steer for the rock,
which runs three miles along the side of the loch; observing, "Is it not
as good for us to be drowned in clear water, as to be dashed to pieces
on a rock, and drowned also?"
A solemn silence followed
this decisive reply. Every one expected instant destruction. The night
was pitch-dark; and there was no light ;n the boat. They dreaded being
landed on some part of the island of Skye, where the militia were in
arms to prevent the Prince's escape. But, to use the words of the pilot,
"As God would have it," that danger was not encountered. By daybreak the
party discovered that they were close to Bushness, in the island of
Benbecula, having run according to the pilot's accoimt, thirty-two
leagues in eight hours. During this perilous voyage the spirits of
Charles never sank; he encouraged every one around him, working himself
at the oars: "he was," says Mr. Maxwell, "the only one that seemed void
of concern."
Such were the
circumstances under which Charles Edward landed in the Long Island;—the
event which brought him into communication with Flora Macdonald. She was
at that time calmly engaged in the usual duties of her station; but the
spirit so prevalent in the Highlands was not extinguished in the Western
Islands, either by the dread of the English militia, or by the defeat of
the Prince. All the Jacobites of that period, to adopt the language of
President Forbes, "how prudent soever, became mad; all doubtful people
became Jacobites; and all bankrupts became heroes, and talked of nothing
but hereditary right and victory. And what was more grievous to men of
gallantry, and, if you believe me, more mischievous to the public, all
the fine ladies, if you except one or two, became passonately fond of
the young adventurer, and used all their arts for him in the most
intemperate manner'?* It was not, however, an idle, romantic fancy, but
a fixed sentiment of duty, acting upon a kindly heart, which originated
the enthusiasm of Flora.
Whilst the Prince was
traversing the Long Island in poverty and danger, a desolate wanderer
wanting the common necessaries of life, but still patient and cheerful,
ever hoping once more to assemble his faithful Highlanders,—Going at one
time four days in a desert island, then putting to sea pursued by
ships,—Flora Macdonald had accidentally quitted her usual residence at
Armadale in Skye, for the purpose of visiting her step-brother at
Milton.
During her abode at
Milton, Captain O'Neil, who was loitering about the country for the
purpose of gaining intelligence for Charles Edward, formed an
acquaintance with this young lady, and, it is said, paid his addresses
to her. More than two months had now elapsed since Charles first trusted
his hopes to the chance of finding a vessel on the coast of the Long
Island, to take him to France. During that period his fortunes had
assumed a far more threatening aspect than at any previous time. Friends
had proved faithless; Murray of Broughton, when the Prince then still
regarded as one of the "firmest, honestest men in the world," had shown
to others his real motives, and the deep selfishness, cowardice, and
rapacity, of his heart. In his utmost need, when the Prince was in want
of food, that wretched man had, in reply to a message from Charles
asking money, answered that he had none; having only sixty louis-d'ors
for himself, which were not worth sending. What was perhaps of more
immediate moment was, that, whilst the friends of the young Chevalier
had diminished, the number of his foes around him had increased. Fifteen
ships of war were to be seen near the coasts of the Long Island, thus
most effectually destroying all hopes of a French vessel being able to
cruize near the shore. To complete his misfortunes, the Duke of
Cumberland, upon learning that his unfortunate kinsman had sheltered
himself in the Western Islands, had sent Captain Caroline Scott, an
officer as infamous as Hawley and Lockhart, to scour the Long Island.
Such were the
circumstances of Charles towards the latter end of June 1746. He was
then coursing along the shores of the Long Island, until, pursued by
French ships, he was obliged to land, happily for himself, on the island
of Benbecula, between the North and South Uist. Providence seemed to
have conducted him to that wild and bleak shore. Scarcely had he reached
it, than a storm arose, and drove his pursuers off the coast. Here the
Prince and his starving companions were overjoyed to find a number of
crabs, or, as the Scottish pilot termed them, partans; a boon to the
famished wanderers. From a hut, about two miles from the shore-Charles
removed, first to the house of Lady Clanranald; and afterwards, by the
advice of Clanranald, he went to South Uist, and took up his abode near
the hill of Cora-dale in the centre of the island, that being thought
the most secure retreat. Here Charles remained until again driven from
this hut by the approach of Captain Scott, with a detachment of five
hundred men, who advanced close to the place where he was concealed. The
unfortunate Prince then determined upon a last and painful effort to
save those who had braved hitherto the severities of their lot for his
sake. He parted with all his followers except O'Neil. Donald Macleod
shed tears on bidding him farewell. Macleod was taken prisoner a few
days afterwards in Benbecula, by Lieutenant Allan Macdonald, of Knock,
in Slate, in the island of Skye. He was put on board the Furnace, and
brought down to the cabin before General Campbell, who examined him
minutely. The General asked him "if he had been along with the
Pretender?' "Yes," said Donald, "I was along with that young gentleman,
and I winna deny it." "Do you know," said the General, "what money was
upon the gentleman's head? no less a sum than four thousand pounds
sterling, which would have made you and your family happy for ever."
"What then," said Donald, "what could I have gotten by it? I could not
have enjoyed it for two days, conscience would have gotten the better of
me; and although I could have got England and Scotland for my Prince, I
would not have allowed a hair of his head to be hurt."
After this separation,
the Prince, accompanied by G'Neil, again returned to traverse the
mountainous districts of South Uist. He walked in the direction of
Benbecula, and about midnight entered a shealing, or hut, which belonged
to Angus Macdonald, the brother of his future deliverer. The interview
which shortly took place between them, was not, as it may readily be
conceived, unpremeditated. Repeatedly, before the meeting, had O'Neil
asked Flora whether she would like to see the Prince? She answered with
emotion that she would. She had even expressed an earnest desire to see
him; and had said, if she could be of any use in aiding him to escape
from his enemies, she would do it.
O'Neil had had various
opportunities of studying the real character of Flora Macdonald. He must
have had an extraordinary notion of her energy when he first proposed to
her, whilst they met in Clanranald's house, to take the Prince with her
to Skye, dressed up in woman's clothes. This proposition appeared to
Flora so "fantastical and dangerous," that she positively declined it.
"A Macdonald, a Macleod, a Campbell militia were," she observed, "in
South Uist in quest of the Prince: a guard was posted at every ferry;
every boat was seized; no person could leave Long Island without a
passport; and the channel between Uist and Skye was covered with ships
of war." Such was her resolution whilst she discussed the subject with
O'Neil at the house of her kinsman, Clanranald. Nor does that sense of
the dangers of her undertaking lessen the heroism of the enterprise. But
her woman's heart, however timid it might be at Clanranald's castle, was
touched, when she beheld the Prince; and compassion. from which spring
the noblest resolves, inspired her to exertion.
As the Prince, attended
by O'Neil, drew near to the hut belonging to Angus Macdonald, the latter
quitted Charles, and went aside, with a design to inform himself whether
the Independent companies of militia were to pass that way, or not, on
the following day, as he had been informed. Such, at least, was his
pretext; but he had an appointment with Flora Macdonald, who was
awaiting him near the hut. To his question, she answered that "they
would not pass until the day after." Then O'Neil ventured to tell the
young lady that he had brought a friend to see her. She inquired in some
agitation "if it was the Prince?" He replied that it was, and he
instantly brought her into the shealing. The kind heart of Flora was
afflicted at the sight. Charles was exhausted with fatigue and misery;
he had become thin and weak, and his health was greatly affected by the
hardships which he had undergone. He and O'Neil had lost indeed the
means of personal comfort; they had but two shirts with them, and every
article, of wearing apparel was worn out. To a feeble mind, the
depressed state of Prince Charles's affairs, his broken-down aspect, and
the dangers which surrounded him, would have inspired reluctance to
serve one so desolate. These circumstances, however, only softened the
resistance which Flora had at first made to the scheme suggested for his
escape, and renewed her desire to aid him.
After her first
introduction, the discourse for some time turned upon his dangerous
situation; the best remedy for which was, as both the Prince and O'Neil
hinted, for Flora to convey him in disguise to Skye, where her mother
lived. This seemed the more feasible. from the situation which her
father-in-law held, and which would enable him to give a pass for
herself and her servant.
The Prince assented to
the expediency of the proposal. which originated with O'Neil, and
immediately asked Flora if she would undertake to carry the plan into
effect. Flora answered with great respect and loyalty, but declined,
saying that "Sir Alexander Macdonald, who commanded the militia in Skye,
was too much her friend for her to be the instrument of his ruin."
O'Neil endeavoured to combat this opinion, representing that Sir
Alexander was not then in the country, and could not therefore be
implicated, he added, that she might easily convey the Prince to her
mother's, at Armadale, as she lived close by the waterside. O'Neil also
told her of the honour and immortal fame which would redound from so
glorious an action; and the Prince assured her that he should always
retain a deep sense of so conspicuous a service." The firmness of Flora
had resisted the arguments of O'Neil; but it was overcome by these few
words from the Prince. She consented to let O'Neil know on the following
day at what time every arrangement would be made for the plan which had
been proposed, and she left the Prince and his adherent to shelter
themselves in the mountains of Coradale.
On leaving the shealing,
Flora at first returned to Milton; but, having fully made up her mind to
undertake the enterprise, she set out for Orrnaclade, the seat of
Clanranald, on Saturday the twenty-first of June. Her journey was not
without perilous adventures. On passing a ford, she was taken prisoner
by one of the militia, on account of not having a passport. She enquired
by whom they were commanded; and, finding that her step-father was their
captain, she refused to give an answer to the questions put to her until
she saw him. She was made a prisoner for that night; her captivity being
shared by her servant Neil MacIvechan, a clansman, who was the father of
Marshal Macdonald, Duke of Tarentum. In the morning, Hugh Macdonald of
Armadale, the step-father of Flora, arrived, and liberated her; granting
a passport for herself. her servant, and for another woman whom she
styled Betty Burke, a good spinster, whom Armadale in the innocencv of
his heart recommended to his wife at Armadale, as she had much lint to
spin. His letter has been preserved; and there is every reason to
believe, that, when writing it, Armadale was wholly unconscious of the
design of Flora.
The letter of Armadale to
his wife ran as follows: —"I have sent your daughter from this country
lest she should be frightened with the troops lying here. She has got
one Betty Burke, an Irish girl, who, as she-tells me, is a good spinner.
If her spinning pleases you, you may keep her till she spins all your
lint: or, if you have any wool to spin, you may employ her. I have sent
MacKechan along with your daughter and Betty Burke, to take care of
them. I am, your dutiful husband,
" Hugh Macdonald "
" June 22nd, 1746."
It was late m the
afternoon of the Sunday on which Flora had obtained her passport, before
she could communicate with her friends in the mountains; about four
o'clock, however, they received a message telling them that all was
well. The Prince and his companion, therefore, determined immediately to
join their protectress.
Upon being set at
liberty, Flora went immediately to Ormaclado, where she had, in Lady
Clanranald, an enthusiastic assistant. She remained at Ormaclado for
several days, making arrangements for the complete disguise of the
Prince.
The Prince and O'Neil had
only waited for the arrival of Flora's messenger to set out and meet
their heroic friend; but the trusty individual who had brought them the
tidings that all was well, informed them that they could not pass either
of the fords which separated South Uist from Benbecula, as they were
guarded by militia. In this extremity the Prince knew not how he should
ever reach the place appointed for his meeting with Flora, which was
Rossinish, in Benbecula, from which spot she was to conduct him to Skye.
An inhabitant of South Uist, seeing his perplexity, offered him a boat:
The proffered aid was accepted; and Charles, with O'Neil, was landed on
a promontory which the pilot of the boat assured the Prince was the
island of Benbecula. Charles therefore dismissed the. boatmen, with
orders to meet him on the opposite side of the island; and began his
journey. He had not gone far when he found himself surrounded with
water, and perceived that the pilot had made a mistake. Neither Charles
nor his companions had ever before been in this part of Benbecula They
looked around them on the desolate prospect, and perceived that they
were on a peninsula, perfectly desert, and which at high-water was
separated from Benbecula. At, first Charles hoped, that, when the tide
was out, some passage might be discovered; but the waves retired and no
passage appeared. The Prince was not disheartened; for his courage,
never justly questioned, had gained its best allies, patience and
fortitude, during the adversities of the last few months. He supported
the fainting spirits of his companions; and, to encourage them to search
for a passage, said that he knew of one, although he was in fact as
ignorant as they were. At length he discovered a passage, and the party
reached a little hut. which they were assured was in Benbecula. He
marched on, exhausted as he was, to Rossinish, and arrived there at
midnight, but found not the deliverer they expected; on the contrary, he
learned that they were within fifty yards of the enemy. Hungry as they
were, hawing eaten nothing all day, the Prince and his fainting
companions were obliged to retreat four miles. Captain O'Neil was then
sent to Ormaclade, to inquire why Flora had not been true to her
appointment. She told him that she now considered that North Uist would
be a safer place of refuge than Skye, and that she had engaged a cousin
of hers to receive him there. O'Neil remained at Ormaclade, and sent a
boy to inform the Prince, who was now only at eight miles distance, of
this proposal but that scheme was soon abandoned, the gentleman to
whom Flora referred refusing to receive the Prince. In this dilemma,
Charles was informed that his enemies had quitted Rossinish, and he
therefore hastened to that place. His safe arrival there was, indeed,
almost miraculous. Near him was a guard of fifty men; the island was
full of militia; and the secret of his being in it was known to many a
poor cotter. But, in those vicissitudes of his eventful and unhappy
life, the Prince was thrown among a faithful and honourable people, in
whose bosoms the conviction was planted, that to betray him would bring
down a curse upon themselves and their posterity.
On arriiving at Rossinish,
Captain O'Neil was again dispatched to Flora to express the
disappointment of Charles on not seeing her, and to beg her to join him.
She promised faithfully
to do so on the following day; and she kept her word. Having hired a
six-oared boat to convey her to Skye, and appointed it to be at a
certain part of the coast, she set out for Rossinish accompanied by Lady
Clanranald, whose participation in the cause was shortly afterwards
punished by imprisonment;—by a Mrs. Macdonald, and by MacKechan, her
servant. They entered a hut, where they found this unfortunate
descendant of an ill-fated race preparing his own dinner, It consisted
of the heart, liver, and kidneys of a sheep, which he was turning upon a
wooden spit. The compassion of the ladies was roused by this sight; but
Charles, as he bade them welcome to the humble repast, moralized on his
fate. He observed, that all kings would be benefited by such an ordeal
as that which he had endured. His philosophy was seasoned by the hope of
attaining what he ever desired,—the hereditary monarchy which he
believed to be his birthright. He observed, that the wretched to-day,
may be happy to-morrow. At the dinner. Flora Macdonald sat on the
right-hand of the Prince, and Lady Clanranald on the left.
After the meal was ended,
Charles was requested by Flora to assume the female apparel which Lady
Clanranald had brought. It was, of course, very homely, and consisted of
a flowered linen gown, a light-coloured quilted petticoat, and a mantle
of clean camlet, made after the Irish fashion, with a hood. Their
dangers, as he put on his dress, did not check the merriment of the
party; and many jokes were passed upon the costume of Betty Burke. A
small shallop was lying near the shore, and Flora proposed that they
should remove near to the place whence they were to embark, for her
fears had been excited by a message which arrived from Ormaclade,
acquainting Lady Clanranald that a party of soldiers, under the infamous
Captain Fergusson, had arrived at her house, and had taken up their
quarters there. Lady Clanranald hastened home, where she managed to
deceive and perplex both General Campbell, who had lately arrived in
Benbecula, and Captain Fergusson.
And now another trial was
at hand :—it was necessary for Captain O'Neil and the Prince to
separate. The Irishman would fain have remained with Charles, but Flora
was firm, as well as kind; her opinion on this point was decided; and
O'Neil was obliged to yield. This point was not gained without much
difficulty, for Charles even remonstrated. O'Neil took his leave, and
made his way, through a country traversed by troops, to South Uist,
where O'Sullivan had been left. "I could now," writes Captain O'Neil in
his journal, when he relates his departure from the Prince, "only
recommend him to God and his good fortune." This kind-hearted man was
afterwards taken prisoner by Captain Fergusson, who had him stripped and
threatened not only with the rack, but also with being whipped by his
hangman because he would not disclose where the Prince was. These
cruelties were opposed, however, by a junior officer, who, coming out
with a drawn sword, threatened Fergusson with a beating, and saved
O'Neil from the punishment which was to have been the requital of his
fidelity.
When all were gone,
except Flora, the; Prince, and MacKechan. the party proceeded to the
sea-shore, where they arrived wet and wearied, and passed the night upon
a rock. They made a fire to warm themselves, and endeavoured still to
maintain hope and cheerfulness. How picturesque and singular must have
been the group, thus awaiting the moment which should perhaps only
conduct them to fresh perils! As they reclined among the heath which
grew on the rock, four wherries, filled with armed men. caused the
little party to extinguish their fire, and to hide themselves in the
heather. The wherries, which made at first for the shore, sailed by to
the southward, within a gun-shot of the spot where Charles Edward and
Flora were concealed. At eight o'clock in the evening of Saturday, the
twenty-eighth of June 1746, the Prince and she set sail from Benbecula
for Skye.
The evening on which they
quitted the shores which had been to them such scenes of peril was
clear; but, not long after they had embarked, the sea became rough, and
the weather stormy. Prince Charles resolved never to despond, sang songs
to prevent the spirits of the company from flagging, and talked gaily
and hopefully of the future. Exhausted by her previous exertions, Flora
sank into a sleep; and Charles carefully watched her slumbers, being
afraid lest the voices of the boatmen should arouse her, or, in the
dark, that any of the men should step upon her. She awoke in a surprise
at some little bustle in the boat, and asked hastily "What was the
matter?" What must have been her emotions at that moment?
The next day, Sunday, was
one of anxiety. The boatmen had lost their track, and had no compass,
the wind had changed, it was then calm. They made, however, towards
Waternish. in the west of Skye; but they found the place possessed by
militia, and three boats were visible near the shore. A man on board one
of the boats fired at them; on which they made away as fast as they
could; for, .in addition to that danger, several ships of war were now
in sight. The Prince and his friends took shelter, therefore, in a cleft
of a rock on the shore, and there remained to rest the men, who had been
up all night, and to prepare their provisions for dinner. The party then
resumed their voyage: Fortunately it was calm, for otherwise, in any
distress of weather, they must have been overtaken and have perished,
for an alarm had already been given of the appearance of a strange boat,
and the militia were upon the watch; the promised reward set upon
Charles having excited all the vigilance of his enemies. At length,
after rowing some time, they landed at Kilbude in Troternish, in Skye,
about twelve miles to the north of Waternish. But several parties of
militia were in the neighbourhood. Flora now quitted the boat, and went
with Nell MacKechan to Mugstat, the residence of Sir Alexander
Macdonald, here she desired one of the servants to apprise Lady
Macdonald of her arrival. The lady was not unprepared to receive her,
for a kinswoman had gone a short time before to tell her of the
enterprise in which Flora had engaged.
Lady Margaret was well
disposed to give the cause every assistance in her power. She was the
daughter of the celebrated Susanna, Countess of Eglintoune, and of
Alexander, ninth Earl of Eglintoune, who was supposed, while ostensibly
supporting the family on the throne, to be a secret friend of the
Stuarts. Lady Margaret was one of seven sisters, famed for their
loveliness, and for the "Eglintoune air," a term applied to that family
as a tribute to the lofty grace of their deportment. "It was a goodly
sight," observes Mr. Chambers, "a century ago, to see the long
processions of sedans containing Lady Eglintoune and her daughters
devolve from the Close, and proceed to the Assembly rooms in the West
Bow, where there was usually a considerable crowd of plebeian admirers
congregated, to behold their lofty and graceful figures step from the
chairs on the pavement." Lady Margaret was greatly beloved in Skye. When
she rode through the island, the people ran before her, and took the
stones off the road, lest her horse should stumble. Her husband was also
very popular. Such was the hospitality of Mugstat, that every week a
hogshead of claret was drank at his table.
Lady Margaret had now
been married six years to Sir Alexander Macdonald of Macdonald. She was
the mother of three sons, two of whom were eminently distinguished. The
first, Sir James Macdonald, was a young man of singular accomplishments,
and the friend of Lord Lyttleton; he was endowed "with great talents for
business, great propriety of behaviour, great politeness of manners." To
these acquirements he added those amiable qualities, which, united to
great erudition, procured him the title of the "Marcellus of the West".
Eglintoune House was situated on the west side of the old Stamp-office
Close, High Street. It is now occupied by a vintner.
The character of Lady
Margaret was not that of her second son; but of a spirited generous
woman. She was not one who would allow the arms of her ancestors "to
rust." Before the Prince's arrival, her energies had been employed in
contriving the fittest route for him to take after leaving Mugstat, for
she was as enthusiastic an adherent of Charles Edward, as any of her
female relations. Whilst he was in North Uist, he had sent Lady Margaret
a letter, enclosed, by Hugh Macdonald of Balishair, to his brother
Donald Roy Macdonald, with orders to deliver it to Lady Margaret alone;
and, in case of attack while at sea, to sink it, by tying it to a stone.
This letter revealed the secret of the Prince's intention to quit the
Long Island: it informed Lady Margaret that Charles wanted almost all
necessary habiliments; and desired that some shirts and blankets might
be provided for him; the Prince having hitherto slept only in his plaid,
a custom which he retained almost constantly during his wanderings.
Balishair's letter had also unfolded a plan at that time in
contemplation, that Charles should take refuge on the small grass-island
called Fladdanuach, belonging to Sir Alexander Macdonald, and having
only one tenant upon it. Thither Lady Margaret was to send Donald Roy
Macdonald with the articles to be in readiness for the Prince.
Lady Margaret had
instantly complied with these injunctions. Eventually the notion of
making Fladdanuach the retreat of Charles was given up ; but the zealous
Lady Margaret had made the most careful preparations for that scheme,
and it was not from any negligence on her part that it was abandoned.
The packet sent by Balishair contained, however, another valuable paper.
This was a letter written in Prince Charles's own hand, chiefly one of
compliment, and full of gratitude to Lady Margaret for sending him
newspapers, which had been delivered to him through Macdonald of
Balishair.
This precious letter had,
some time before Flora had arrived at Mugstat, been delivered to Lady
Margaret. When she received it, she rose from her seat, and kissing it
said, alluding to a precaution which had been recommended, "I will never
burn it; I will preserve it for the sake of him who wrote it to me.
Although King George's forces should come to the house, I shall have
means to secure it." Afterwards, however, her house being searched by
the dreaded Fergusson, she considered it necessary for Charles's safety
to burn it; although, as it proved, there was no search whatsoever for
papers.
Lady Margaret had been
aided in her efforts and plans by a zealous kinsman, Captain Roy
Macdonald, who had been wounded at the battle of Culloden. This person
was still under medical care, and was living in the house of a surgeon
named Maclean, at Troternish. When Charles landed at Skye, Roy
Macdonald, wounded as he was, had sailed to Fladdanuach, at Lady
Margaret's bidding, with clothes and money, and had returned just in
time to witness her perplexity at the Prince's unexpected arrival.
Upon that event being
made known by Flora Macdonald to Lady Margaret, she sent a message to
Captain Roy Macdonald, entreating him to come to her immediately. He
complied, and found Lady Margaret walking in the garden of Mugstat,
talking very earnestly to Alexander Macdonald of Kingsburgh, a gentleman
of the neighbourhood, who acted as factor, or chamberlain, to Sir
Alexander. As Roy Macdonald approached, Lady Margaret exclaimed, holding
up her hands, "Oh, Donald Roy, we are ruined for ever!" It was then
imparted to him that the Prince was within a quarter of a mile from
Mugstat, in woman's clothes; that Lieutenant Macleod, who was employed
to guard that part of Skye, and three or four of his militia-men, were
about the house; a number of others being not far distant: what was
still more alarming, Flora Macdonald and the Lieutenant were at that
time conversing together in the dining-room.
A consultation
immediately ensued as to the plan then most proper to ensure Charles
Edward's safety. Donald Roy Macdonald declared, that, whatever they
should agree upon, "he would undertake (God willing) to accomplish at
the risk of his life." Kingsburgh was first called upon to give his
opinion. He proposed that the Prince should sail by the point of
Troternish to Raasav, because it would be impossible for him to remain
in Skye with safety. This plan was, however, opposed by Lady Margaret,
who said, that, if the Prince was to sail for Raasav, it were better
that he should remain at Mugstat all night. In short, no scheme appeared
practicable; and the consultation was frequently broken off in despair,
and renewed only to start fresh difficulties. At last Donald Roy said,
"What do you think, Kingsburgh, if the Prince should run the risk of
making his way over to Portree by land?" Kingsburgh, notwithstanding
that he was full of apprehension, thought that the plan might be tried,
although the distance from Mugstat to Portree was fourteeen long
Highland miles. At first it was derided that Donald Roy should be the
bearer of this scheme to the Prince; but it was afterwards argued, that,
since the Prince must make "a monstrous figure" in woman's clothes,
there might be some suspicion excited by Donald Roy's talking to so
angular a stranger, it was therefore determined that no one except Flora
Macdonald should be entrusted with the perilous task of taking messages
to Charles at his station on the shore. Lady Margaret in the course of
this conversation expressed "that she was in great difficulties'' It was
impossible that she could apply to any of the Clan for assistance. The
general belief was that Sir Alexander Macdonald was unfriendly to the
Prince, and that no greater favour could be shown by the chief than
seizing the royal fugitive. This increased the danger of Charles's
remaining in Skye, and threw her entirely upon the good offices of
Kingsburgh and Roy Donald.
During this conference
Flora Macdonald was keeping up what she afterwards described to Bishop
Forbes as "a close chit-chat" with Lieutenant Macleod, who put to her
questions which she answered as "she thought fit." Lady Margaret,
meantime, could not forbear going in and out in great anxiety; a
circumstance which Flora observed, and which could not but add to her
embarrassment; nevertheless, this extraordinary young woman maintained
the utmost composure. She even dined in company with the Lieutenant
without betraying her perplexity in a single instance: never was the
value of that admirable quality, presence of mind, more forcibly seen
than in this instance.
Charles had removed to a
more distant spot than that which he had at first selected, for he had
been apprised by Neil MacKechan of Kingsburgh's intended visit, and
conducted by that faithful servant to the back of a certain hill, where
he was requested to wait until Kingsburgh should reach him. It was also
announced to Charles by Neil, that he was to go to Portree, resting by
the way at the house of Kingsburgh, who was a staunch Jacobite.
"When Kingsburgh drew
near to the place where Charles awaited him, he saw the Prince
approaching him with a short thick cudgel (not a very feminine
appendage) in his hand. "Are you," cried Charles, "Mr. Macdonald of
Kingsburgh'?" "Yes, sir," replied Kingsburgh. "Then," said Charles, "all
is well; come let us be going." Macdonald, however, first begged the
Prince to partake of some refreshment, which he did; the top of a rock
serving for a table. This being done, they proceeded on their journey;
Kingsburgh telling his fellow-traveller with no less admiration than
joy, "that he could recollect no cause either of business or duty for
his being at Mugstat that day." "I'll tell you the cause," said the
Prince; "'Providence sent you hither to take care of me."
They were now interrupted
by some country-people coming from the kirk. These sociable rustics were
disposed to favour the Prince and his companion with their conversation.
Kingsburgh could think of no other way of getting rid of them than
saying, "Eh, sirs! cannot ye let alone talking o' jour worldly affairs
on the sabbath? and have patience till another day?" The poor people
took the pious hint and moved on.
For some time after the
Prince had set out, Flora remained at Mugstat. where Lady Margaret, who
could only speak to her in presence of the officer, pressed her much to
stay, and feigned a great anxiety to retain her for a few days, telling
her that she had promised to do so the first time that she came that
way. But Flora excused herself, saying that she wanted to be at home in
these troublesome times, and also to see her mother. She was at length
suffered to depart, accompanied by Mrs. Macdonald of Kirkibost, the lady
who had apprised Lady Margaret of her visit, but who was not in the
secret of the Prince's disguise. This lady's maid and man servant, and
MacKechan completed the party. Lady Margaret during the whole of this
agitating affair never saw the Prince "in any shape."
Flora and her companions
soon overtook the Prince and Kingsburgh. They found the curiosity of her
companion somewhat inconvenient, for Mrs. Macdonald was very anxious to
see the "strange woman's" face; but it was always turned away from her
inquisitive gaze. Yet Mrs. Macdonald made her observations nevertheless.
"She never," she said, "had seen before such an impudent-looking woman
—and she must either be an Irish woman, or a man in woman's clothes!"
Flora who had the happy and rare art of not saying too much, replied
that "she was an Irishwoman, for she had seen her before." The maid who
attended Mrs. Macdonald took notice of the supposed Irish woman's
awkward way of managing her petticoats, and remarked what long strides
she took in walking. In particular, in wading a rivulet, the Prince
lifted up his troublesome garments so high, that MacKechan called out to
him "for God's sake to take care, or he would discover himself." Charles
laughed heartily, and thanked him for his cautions: he much feared that
they would be neglected. Flora began to be apprehensive of the
loquacious and observant mistress and maid. She, as well as Mrs.
Macdonald, was now on horseback, and she proposed that the ladies should
go on a little faster, and leave those on foot to take their time. There
was another object in this arrangement: the country was traversed by
parties of militia, and it was necessary for the Prince and Kingsburgh
to diverge by a cross-road over the hills to the place of their
destination. They went therefore by by-paths, south-south-east, to
Kingsburgh's house, which they reached at midnight; Flora having arrived
there a short time before. She had parted with her other companions on
the road.
During this journey of
seven long miles, which were performed in a drenching rain, there was no
slight risk, owing to the very singular demeanour of the Prince, and to
the awkwardness with which he performed his part. Betty Burke was
regarded by the gazing passers-by as a very strange woman. When the
country-people greeted him with an obeisance, he returned it with a bow
instead of a curtsey; and in all his gestures he forgot the woman, and
retained the man. After the remonstrance upon holding his skirts too
high, he let them fall down into the streams which often intersected his
path. "Your enemies, sir," remarked Kingsburgh, "call you a Pretender,
but you are the worst at your trade that I ever saw." "Why," replied
Charles laughing, "they do me perhaps as much injustice in this as in
other respects. I have all my life despised assumed characters, and am
the worst dissembler in the world."
Lady Kingsburgh. not
expecting her husband that night, had retired to rest; and her house was
not at this time in the best possible condition for receiving visitors.
Kingsburgh, however, introduced Charles into the hall, and sent a
servant up-stairs to desire Lady Kingsburgh to rise and dress herself.
But the lady was not disposed to comply with her husband's commands that
night. She sent a message to beg that he and his guests would help
themselves to whatsoever they found in the house, and excuse her
absence. As soon as she had despatched this answer, her daughter, a
child of seven years of age, ran into the room, and told her, with much
astonishment, that her father had brought home the most odd "shaken-up
wife" that she had ever seen, and had conducted her into the hall.
Kingsburgh now made his appearance, and entreated his wife to come
down-stairs, her presence being absolutely requisite. Lady Kingsburgh
was now really aroused. She could not help suspecting that her husband
had taken Into his house some of those proscribed and wretched fugitives
who were skulking about the country. She could well imagine the distress
of many of the Jacobites, for a paper had been, for some weeks, read in
the kirks, forbidding all persons to give any sort of sustenance to a
rebel, under pain of being deprived of it themselves.
She now dressed herself,
sending her little girl into the hall to fetch her keys. The child went
downstairs, but returned, saying that she could not go into the hall,
the strange woman was walking backwards and forwards in so frightful a
manner. Lady Kingsburgh therefore went herself, but stopped short at the
door on seeing the stranger, whose aspect seems to have been unusually
gaunt and unwomanly. Her husband, however, bade her go in for her keys,
and at last she found courage to enter.
As she walked into the
hall, Charles arose from his seat, and advanced to meet her. According
to the custom of the day, which applied both to ladies and gentlemen, he
offered her the compliment of a salute. Lady Kingsburgh felt the
roughness of no woman's cheek against her own. Alarmed at the discovery,
she nearly fainted; she spoke not, neither did the stranger. She went
hastily towards Kingsburgh, and told him her suspicions. No reproaches
were uttered on her part for the introduction, which had evidently some
risk connected with it; she merely asked, "Does this strange woman know
anything about the Prince?" Her husband, taking her hand, replied, "My
dear, this is the Prince himself." "The Prince!" returned Lady
Kingsburgh; "then we shall all be hanged!" "We can die but once,"
answered Kingsburgh; "could we die in a better cause? We are only doing
an act of humanity."
He then desired her to
send in supper. "Let us have eggs, butter, cheese, or whatever can be
procured in the shortest time." The lady remonstrated. "Eggs, butter,
and cheese for a Prince!" "he will never look at such a supper." "Ah, my
dear," returned Kingsburgh, "you little know how this poor Prince has
fared of late. Our supper will be a banquet to him. Besides, any formal
preparation would excite suspicion. Make haste, and come to supper
yourself." Lady Kingsburgh had now a new source of alarm. "I come to
supper!" she cried; "I do not know how to behave before a Prince." She
was reassured by her husband, who told her that there was no difficulty
in behaving before this, Prince, who was so easy and obliging.
The party, who had
undergone such a day's journey, sat up nearly till dawn, and became
merry over their supper. Never was there a more joyous or inspiring
guest at a feast than the unfortunate Charles. He was now in the house
of a trusted adherent; and his shirts, which had been unaltered even in
huts and caverns, gladdened all present. His favourite toast, was "To
the Black Eye!" by which, as his pilot to the Long Island, Donald
Macleod, relates, he meant the second daughter of France; "and I never
heard him," said Donald, "name any particular health but that alone.
When he spoke of that lady, which he did frequently, he appeared to be
more than ordinarily well-pleased."
The Prince ate heartily,
and drank a bumper of brandy to the health of his host and hostess. When
the ladies had retired, he took out a little black piece of tobacco-pipe
which had been his consolation in all his wanderings, and began to
smoke. Like most persons who have recourse to a similar practice, Prince
Charles framed an excuse for it on the plea of health, telling
Kingsburgh, that he had found it essential, in order to cure the
toothache, from which he had suffered much. His pipe had obtained the
name, among his companions, of the "cutty."
A small china punch-bowl
was then produced by the host, and was twice replenished with the very
popular beverage called toddy, of which the Prince expressed his
unqualified approbation. Conversation, thus aided and exhilarated,
flowed freely; and the charm of Charles's gay courtesy was long
remembered by his Highland landlord, who thus, at the risk of all that
was dear to him, welcomed the unfortunate wanderer to his home. Morning
dawned before either the Prince or Kingsburgh talked of retiring. At
last Kingsburgh became anxious. He knew that it was necessary for
Charles to proceed to Portree early the next day ; and he earnestly
desired that the Prince should have some rest. He refused to fill the
bowl again, and began to urge his Highness to retire. Charles eagerly
pressed for another supply of usquebaugh and warm water. In the
contention, the bowl, which Kingsburgh had brought from Mugstat for the
Prince to drink the wine out of on the shore, was broken. This ended the
altercation, and Charles retired to rest.
The next day was far
advanced before the Prince, after his Conviviality of the preceding
evening, was aroused; and the watchful Flora in vain sent Kingsburgh
into his chamber to persuade him to rise. Kingsburgh had not the heart
to awaken the fugitive from a repose which he so rarely enjoyed, and, on
finding him in a profound sleep, retired. At last, one o'clock had
struck and the Prince was summoned to begin another journey Kingsburgh,
enquiring if he had had a good night, was answered that he had never
enjoyed a better one in his life. "I had almost forgotten," said
Charles, "what a good bed was." He then prepared to set out. He was
first to go to Portree; his destination being, ultimately, the island of
Raasay. The choice of this place as a retreat originated in the ancient
league which subsisted between the families of Macdonald and of Raasay.
Whenever the head of either family died, his sword was given to the head
of the other. The chief of Raasay had joined the Highland army, but had
saved his estate by conveying it to his son, young Macleod. Sir
Alexander Macdonald, on that occasion, had thus addressed his neighbour
and ally: "Don't be afraid, Raasay; I'll use my interest to keep you
safe; and, if your estate should be taken, I'll buy it for the family.
And he would have done it."
On quitting Kingsburgh,
the Prince was determined to cast of his disguise. Kingsburgh was
favourable to the change, but Flora would not consent to it: It was
necessary, she thought, that the wanderer should leave the house in the
same dress as he had entered it; so that, if inquiry were made, the
servants would not be able to describe his appearance. He, therefore,
once more figured in the habiliments of Betty Burke; and the only
change, which was at the suggestion of Kingsburgh, was in the article of
shoes; those in which he had walked being now worn out; a new pair was
therefore supplied by Kingsburgh. When the exchange was made, Kingsburgh
hung up the old shoes in a corner of his room, observing, that they
might still do him some service. Charles inquired, "How?" "Why," replied
Kingsburgh, "when you are at St, James's, I shall hold up these shoes
before you, and thus remind you of your night's entertainment and
protection under my roof." Charles, with a smile, desired him to be as
"good as his word." These precious deposits, never being required to
appear at St. James's, were, after old Kingsburgh's death, cut into
pieces, and kept as relics by the Jacobite ladies, and even by the grave
but enthusiastic Bishop Forbes.
It had been decided that
Flora Macdonald should proceed on horseback to Portree by a different
road and should meet the Prince there. She therefore took a temporary
leave of Charles; and Kingsburgh accompanied him to a wood not far from
his house. When the Prince had departed, Lady Kingsburgh went up-stairs,
and folded up the sheets m which he had slept, declaring that they
should never be washed nor used till her death, when they should be made
into her winding-sheet. She was afterwards induced to divide this
valuable memorial with Flora Macdonald.
MacKechan, and a little
herd-boy by way of a guide, alone accompanied the Prince, as he set out
upon a laborious walk of fourteen miles towards Portree. It would have
excited much suspicion, had any more important persons attended him. At
an appointed place Charles threw off his female attire, and again
grasped the claymore. His clothes were concealed in a bush until they
could be carried to Kingsburgh's house, where they were burnt upon the
alarm of a search on the part of the military. The gown only was
retained, by the express desire of Kingsburgh's daughter. The Prince now
once more wore the Highland dress, which had been furnished him by
Kingsburgh.
Meantime, Captain Roy
Macdonald had gone to seek the young Macleod of Raasay, or, as he was
called, Rona, whose very brother in-law, Archibald Macqueen, was then in
search for the Prince in South Uist. Young Macleod, though at first
indisposed to confide the place where his father had taken refuge to Roy
Macdonald, ended eventually by expressing! both on his own part and on
that of his father, the strongest desire to serve the Prince, especially
in his distress. "Then," said Roy Macdonald, "I expect the Prince this
night at Portree; and as there is no boat on this side fit to carry him
over to Raasay, you must do your best, Rona, to get one for the purpose
to ferry the Prince over to Raasay, for thither he means to set out from
Portree." Rona undertook this service, but was unwilling to leave
Portree until he should see the Prince; for he had not been "out" in the
last campaign. But, being repeatedly urged by Roy Macdonald, he at last
embarked in a crazy old boat which filled perpetually with water, and
could only with assistance be made to convey passengers from Portree to
Raasay, a distance nearly of five miles. Before young Raasay embarked,
Roy Macdonald had received a note from Kingsburgh. importing that Flora
Macdonald was so fatigued that she could not go to Portree so soon as
she had intended; and ordering the captain to provide a boat to ferry
her about to Strath, because it would be easier to her "to make it out'"
by sea than overland. Captain Roy Macdonald took the hint, and judged
exactly for whom the boat thus carefully alluded to was to be provided.
On Monday the thirtieth of June, young Raasay, and his brothers Murdoch
Macleod and Malcolm Macleod, arrived after a short, but perilous voyage
within a mile of Portree. Malcolm went to the shore, leaving Rona in the
boat. As he walked from the beach, he saw three persons approaching. It
is said, that at Raasay nine months of the year are rainy. This June
evening was one of the rainy periods; and Malcolm Macleod could not,
through the darkness, discover who these three persons were. The place
of meeting agreed upon was a small public-house near the shore, about
half a mile from the port of Portree; to this house Malcolm Macleod sent
to Captain Roy Macdonald, desiring him to come out and speak to a
friend. Roy Macdonald complied with the summons, taking with him a half
mutchkin stoup full of whiskey. Macleod then informed him that Rona and
his brother Murdoch were on the shore with a boat, which, with much
difficulty and danger they had brought from Raasay to convey the Prince
to that island ; he begged that they would not delay, as it was raining
very heavily.
Donald Roy Macdonald then
told Malcolm that the three persons whom he had seen going towards the
public-house were the Prince, MacKechan, and the herd-boy. Of their
approach he had been apprized by the energetic Flora, who had arrived at
Portree some hours previously.
Donald Roy Macdonald, who
is described as being the model of "a perfect Highland gentleman,"
shared the enthusiasm of Flora. Although still lame from the wound in
his foot, he had, during the course of that evening, looked out
incessantly for the Prince, but was unable to see him. He had not,
however, been long in the public-house, before the voice of the herd-boy
calling for the landlord, and desiring to know if one Donald Roy
Macdonald were there, drew his attention. He stepped out, and was told
by the boy that there was a gentleman, a little above the house, who
desired to speak to him. The captain sent the boy away, and immediately
went to the spot where the Prince stood. Charles embraced him, putting
his head first over one shoulder, and then over the other; and telling
Donald to use no ceremony, for that it was impossible to know who might,
be observing them. When Donald expressed his regret at the darkness of
the night, Charles said, "I am more sorry that our lady" (so he called
Flora Macdonald) "should be so abused with the rain."
After they entered the
house, a curious scene took place. "The Prince," relates Donald Roy, "no
sooner entered the house than he asked If a dram could be got there, the
rain pouring down from his clothes; he having on plaid, without
breeches, trews, or even philibeg. Before he sat down, he got his dram;
and then the company desired him to shift, and put on a dry shirt,
Captain Roy Macdonald giving him his philibeg. The Prince refused to
shift, as Miss Flora Macdonald was in the room; but the captain and Neil
MacKechan told him, it was not time to stand upon ceremonies, and
prevailed upon him to put on a dry shirt. By this time they had brought
some meat into the room, (the Prince having called for it before he
would think of shifting,) which consisted of butter, cheese, bread, and
roasted fish."
The Prince was so hungry
and exhausted, after a walk from Kingsburgh to Purtree, "seven good
Highland miles," that he began to eat before he put on his coat. The
supply of food which he had brought with him consisted of a cold hen, a
bottle of brandy, and a lump of sugar in one of his pockets: these, with
the addition of a bottle of whiskey procured at Portree, constituted his
store of provisions until he reached Raasay. On seeing the Prince eat
heartily, whilst only in his shirt and philibeg, Captain Donald
Macdonald could not forbear smiling. "Sir," he observed, "I believe that
is the English fashion." "What fashion do you mean?" asked the Prince.
"They say," replied Donald, "that the English, when they eat heartily,
throw off their clothes." "They are right," answered Charles, "lest
anything should incommode their hands when they are at work." The Prince
then asked, if any drink could be had. He was told that he could have
nothing but whiskey or water, for no such thing as beer or ale was to be
had in the isle of Skye. Then Charles asked if he could have some milk,
but was informed that there was none in the house. The only beverage
which seemed attainable was water, of which there was a supply in what
Captain Donald Macdonald called an "ugly cog," which the landlord of the
house used for throwing water out of his boat. This vessel though
coarse, was clean. "The captain," relates Donald Roy, *had been taking a
drink out of the cog, and he reached it to the Prince,* who took it out
of his hand, and, after looking at the cog, he stared the captain in the
face, who upon this made up to him (the landlord being in the room), and
whispered him softly in the ear to drink out of it without any ceremony;
for though the cog looked ill. yet it was clean; and, if he should show
any nicety, it might raise a suspicion about him in the landlord's mind.
The Prince said, 'You are right,' and took a hearty draught of water out
of the rough cog, and then he put on his coat."
Paring all this scene,
Captain Roy Macdonald could scarcely disguise, his anxiety that the
Prince should leave Portree. But Charles was reluctant to relinquish
shelter and society; the rain was still heavily pouring down, and the
night on which the unfortunate wanderer was again to trust his fate to
strangers was very dark. In vain, therefore, did Macdonald, when the
landlord had left the room, represent to Charles, that this, being a
public-house, was frequented by all sorts of folks, and that some
curiosity would be excited by his appearance. There was, indeed, no rest
for the proscribed fugitive. Charles then asked for tobacco, that he
might smoke a pipe "before he went off." Macdonald answered, that there
was no tobacco, except that which was very coarse; only "roll tobacco."
But Charles persisted in having it, saying "that it would serve his horn
very well." The landlord therefore was ordered to bring in a quarter of
a pound, which he did in scales, at four-pence halfpenny. The Prince
gave a sixpence, but the landlord was desired by Captain Macdonald to
bring in the change. Charles smiled at Donald Roy's exactness, and said
he would not be at the trouble to pick up the halfpence; but Donald Roy
persuaded him to do so, saying, that in his Highness's present situation
he would find "bawbees very useful to him."
A bottle of whiskey
having been dispatched between the Prince, Donald Roy Macdonald, and
Neil Mac Kechan, and the pipe being finished, Charles reluctantly began
to talk of his departure. He had learned to rely upon the fidelity of
the brave Clan, one young and gentle daughter of which had protected him
from South Uist, and brought him through a country swarming with militia
to Portree. He was unwilling to be separated from Donald Roy, and
entreated him in a low voice to accompany him. But Donald begged him to
remember that it was not in his power to be useful to him, considering
the open wound in his left foot; that he should only prove a burden to
him, for it would be out of his power to skulk from place to place; and
indeed it would be necessary for him to ride on horseback, so that any
of the parties of militia who were ranging about would be sure to descry
him at a distance, and that would be ruin to the chance of escape.
Charles then said, that "he had always found himself safe in the hands
of a Macdonald, and that, as long as he could have a Macdonald with him,
he still should think himself safe." Again and again he urged this
point, It was affecting to see how confidingly this ill-fated young man,
noble in his nature, leaned upon those whom ho had learned to trust. It
is melancholy to reflect that a temper so kindly should ever have been
worked up, and irritated almost to madness, by those intrigues and
misrepresentations which eventually, combining with the wreck of his
other moral qualities, alienated him from all who really loved him.
"The Prince," as Donald
relates, "could not think of parting with him at all." This was the
first time that Charles had entrusted himself, without a single familiar
friend or attendant, to strangers. "Are you," he said, again addressing
Donald, "afraid to go with me? So long as I have, you shall not want."
Again Captain Macdonald referred to his crippled foot: "he behoved to
see," he said, "that his going would only expose the Prince to new
dangers, of which he had already too many to contend with." In the
course of the conversation he took occasion to tell the Prince, since he
had honoured the Macdonalds with his regard, that, although Sir
Alexander Macdonald and his followers did not join his standard, they
wished him well. "I am sensible enough of all that," was the reply of
Charles. Donald also inquired whether the Prince was well provided with
money; as in case of need, Lady Margaret Macdonald would supply his
wants. But Charles, after expressing his gratitude to Lady Margaret,
declined her aid, as he believed that he had sufficient to carry him to
the mainland.
This painful and
memorable scene came at last to a conclusion. After being repeatedly
urged by Donald to depart, Charles bade MacKechan farewell. He then
turned to Flora Macdonald: "I believe, madam," he said, "that I owe you
a crown of borrowed money." She answered, in her literal and simple
manner, "It was only half-a-crown." This sum the Prince paid her. He
then saluted her, and said: "Notwithstanding all that has happened, I
hope, madam, we shall meet in St. James's yet." In this calm, and,
apparently laconic manner, he bade Flora adieu. But, though fate did not
permit Charles to testify his gratitude at St. James's, he is said never
to have mentioned without a deep sense of his obligations the name of
his young protectress. In her loyal and simple heart a sense of duty,
enthusiastic reverence, and fond regret dwelt, whilst that heart
continued to beat; and, through the vicissitudes of her after-life, the
service which she had rendered to the Prince recurred like a ray of
sunshine upon a destiny almost continually clouded and darkened by
calamity.
Flora was left alone at
Portree, attended still by MacKechan, who afterwards escaped, rejoined
the Prince, and went to France with him. MacKechan was a man of good
education, and was conjectured by Bishop Forbes to have been the author
of the "Alexis, or the Young Adventurer," a romance embodying the
principal incidents of Charles Edward's life; but of this there is no
proof.
Meanwhile the Prince
proceeded to the shore. He tied the bottle of whiskey, bought of the
landlord, to his belt on one side, and the brandy, the cold hen, and the
four shirts on the other. As he went, he saw the landlord of the
public-house looking out of a window after him; on which he changed his
road. He met young Raasay and his brothers at the appointed place; and
it was there agreed, that in a few days Donald Macdonald should follow
the Prince to Raasay. At his departure the Prince took out the lump of
sugar from his pocket, and said, "Pray give this to our lady, for I fear
she will get no sugar where she is going." The captain refused however
to accept of that which seems to have been considered as a great
delicacy. Charles then enjoined Captain Macdonald to secrecy as to his
destination, "Tell nobody—no, not our lady—where I am going; for it is
right that my course should not be known." They then parted; and
at daybreak, July the first, 1746, Charles sailed for Raasay. Captain
Macdonald then returned to Portree, where he slept a great portion of
the next day. Here he was closely questioned by the landlord, who said,
that he had a great notion that the gentleman who had supped at his
house was the Prince, for he had something noble about him. Probably the
imprudent liberality of Charles, and his carelessness about money, may
have added to the impression which his lofty air and fascinating manners
generally produced. On the fourth of July, Charles, after various
adventures in the island of Raasay, escaped to the mountains. This event
was announced by a letter sent mysteriously by Murdoch Macleod to Roy
Macdonald, and delivered to him in the darkness of night. It had neither
address on it. nor place, nor date; but was written by Charles
"Sir,
"I have parted as I
intended. Make my compliments to all to whom I have given trouble. I am,
sir, your humble servant,
"James."
This letter was burned by
Roy Macdonald, though with great reluctance, on the day when he
subsequently learned that Flora Macdonald had been made a prisoner.
Flora, after parting from
the Prince, went to Armadale to her mother, after a very fatiguing
journey across the country. Her emotions on separating from Charles have
been expressed in a poem entitled "The Lament of Flora Macdonald,"
beginning thus:
Far o'er the hills of the
heather so green,
And down by the Corrie that skips in the sea,
The bonny young Flora sat weeping her love—
The dew on her plaid, arid the tear in her e'e.
She looked at a boat with the breezes that swung,
And ay as it lessened she sighed and she sung,
'Farewell to the lad I shall ne'er see again!
Farewell to my hero, the gallant and young!
Farewell to the lad I shall ne'er see again.' '"
During eight or ten days
Flora remained in her house at Armadale without imparting to any one,
even to her mother, the events of the last week. To make her mother a
participator in that affair would indeed have been no act of kindness,
at a time when the merest suspicion of being a Jacobite was regarded as
a crime.
At the expiration of ten
days Flora received a message from a person of her own name, Donald
Macdonald of Castletown, in Skye, about four miles from Armadale, to bid
her come to his house in order to meet there the commanding officer of
an independent company, one Macleod of Taliskar, who had ordered
Macdonald to surrender. Flora, a little suspicious of what might happen,
thought proper to consult with her friends as to what step she should
take. They unanimously agreed that she ought not to go; but "go she
would." Then they consulted together what she should say in case of an
investigation. But Flora had made up her mind as to the answers she
should give. She set out to meet her fate. She probably expected that
she should be released after a short examination; for she knew not then
through what channel the part which she had taken in the Prince's escape
had transpired. The fact was, that the boatmen who had brought her with
Charles from Skye had on their return communicated to Captain Fergusson
every particular of the Prince's appearance, and had even described the
gown which he had worn.
Flora afterwards
remembered, that at Mugstat Lady Margaret had warned her that this would
be the case, and had pointed out to her the indiscretion of allowing
these men to go back to North Uist.
As she went on the road
to Castleton, Flora met her father-in-law, Macdonald of Armadale, who
was returning home; and shortly afterwards she was apprehended by
Captain Macleod of Taliskar, with a party of soldiers, who were going to
seek for her at her mother's house. She was not suffered to take leave
of her mother, nor of her other friends; but was carried on board the
Furnace, a sloop of war, commanded by Captain John Fergusson, and which
lay near Raasay. Happily for Flora, General Campbell was on board, and
by his orders she was treated with the utmost respect. At her first
examination she merely acknowledged, that, on leaving Uist, she had been
solicited by "a great lusty woman" to give her a passage, as she was a
soldier's wife, Her request, Flora said, was granted; and the woman,
upon being landed in Skye, had walked away, and Flora had seen nothing
more of the stranger.
But upon finding that she
was mildly treated, and on hearing that the boatmen had related every
circumstance of her voyage, she confessed the whole truth to General
Campbell.
The vessel was bound for
Leith. About three weeks after she had been apprehended, as the ship
cruized about, it approached the shore of Armadale. Here Flora was
permitted to land, in order to bid adieu to her parents. She was sent
ashore under a guard of two otficers and a party of soldiers, and was
forbidden to say anything in Erse, or anything at all except in presence
of the officers. Here she stayed two hours, and then returned to the
ship. With what emotions she left the island of Skye and found herself
carried as a prisoner to Leith, It is not perhaps in these tranquil days
easy to conceive.
After her apprehension,
her father-in-law, Armadale, to use the phrase of some of the
unfortunate Jacobites, "began a-skulking;" a report having gone about
that he had given a pass to his daughter, although aware that she was
travelling with "the Pretender" disguised in woman's clothes. There was
also another source of suspicion against him, which was his having the
Prince's pistols in his keeping. These were given him by Macdonald of
Milton, the brother of Flora; they had been received either from Charles
himself, or from O'Sullivan or O'Neil; but still they furnished a proof
of some communication between Charles Edward and Armadale. Another
sufferer was Donald Roy Macdonald. Among not the least energetic of
those who aided the escape of Charles Edward from the Long Island, was
Donald Roy Macdonald. A model of the true Highland gentleman in
deportment, handsome in person, his conduct fully bore out his character
To this warm-hearted disinterested young man the Prince quickly attached
himself*. Crippled as he was, he was obliged also to "go a-skulkiug." He
concealed himself in three different caves, where by turns he made his
abode for eight weeks, wrapping himself up in his plaid, and making his
bed of the heather; his subsistence he owed to the care of Lady Margaret
Macdonald, who brought him food, though at the risk of her own safety.
It is consolatory to find heroic friendship, or compassionate interest,
enlivening the melancholy annals of civil contentions, of revenge and
treachery.
The sufferings of Captain
Macdonald during his concealment, although alleviated by Lady Margaret's
care, were nevertheless considerable. During the months of July and
August, which he passed in the caves, the midges and flies annoyed his
frame, sensitive from the still open wound, and drove him for coolness
into the recesses of the caverns. It was necessary to be very careful in
stepping out, lest the country-people should discover his retreat. Late
at night, or very early in the morning, he crept out to supply his
bottle with water from some neighbouring burn or rivulet. At last, the
act of indemnity set him free. Until the month of November 1740, his
wound, exasperated by constant exertion, was very troublesome. His
misery was solaced by the care and skill of a friendly surgeon, who sent
Donald Roy dressings by a proper hand, even while he remained in the
cave, and at last the wound healed. In an account of the Prince's
escape, written by Donald at the request of Bishop Forbes, he says, "He
(Donald Roy) now walks as cleverly as ever, without any the smallest
pain or halt; and made his last journey from Skye to Edinburgh in twelve
days on foot, and, as he came along, visited several friends and
acquaintances."
One cannot help rejoicing
that Lady Margaret Macdonald escaped all inconvenience, except
suspicion. The conduct of her husband, Sir Alexander, had been prudent.
During the progress of the insurrection he had written to Keppoch, after
the retreat from Stirling:—"Seeing I look upon your affairs as in a
desperate state, I will not join you: but then, I assure you, I will as
little rise against you." Of Sir Alexander's followers, a force
amounting to five hundred men, only two had joined the Prince; these
were James Macdonald of the isle of Tisker,and Captain Donald Roy
Macdonald. The estates of Sir Alexander, therefore, remained uninjured,
and his family continued to enjoy them.
The chief sufferers from
the visit of Prince Charles to their house were Macdonald of Kingsburgh
and his wife.
Upon hearing of the
Prince's escape, Captain Fergusson went first to Mugstat; where gaining
no intelligence. he proceeded to Kingsburgh. He there examined every
person with the utmost exactness, and inquired into every particular of
the accommodation afforded to one whom he styled "the Pretender." "Whom
you mean by the Pretender, I do not pretend to guess!" was the reply of
Mrs. Macdonald of Kingsburgh.
Kingsburgh was made
prisoner, and was sent to Fort Augustus on parole without any guard, by
General Campbell's order. But the clemency shown by Campbell ceased when
Kingsburgh reached Fort Augustus, he was thrown into a dungeon, was
plundered of everything, and loaded with irons. Sir Everard Faulkner,
who was employed to examine him, reminded him how-fine an opportunity he
had lost of "making himself and his family for ever. " Had I gold and
silver piled heap upon heap to the bulk of yon huge mountain," was the
noble reply, "that mass could not afford me half the satisfaction I find
in my own breast from doing what I have done!" Whilst he was confined at
Fort Augustus, an officer of distinction came to him, and asked him if
he should know the Prince's head if he saw it. "I should know the head
very well if it were on the shoulders," was the answer. "But if it were
not on the shoulders?' said the officer. "In that case I will not
pretend to know anything about it," returned Kingsburgh. His
discrimination was not put to the test.
Kingsburgh was removed to
Edinburgh castle under a strong guard of Kingston's Light-horse. He was
at first put into a room with several other gentlemen, but was
afterwards removed into solitary confinement, and not allowed to speak
to any one, except to the officer on guard, and the keeper, who acted as
his servant. In this place he remained for a year, when by the act of
grace he was set at liberty on the fourth of July 1747; "having thus,"
as an author has observed, "got a whole year's safe lodging for
affording that of one night!"
Before her farewell to
her friends in Armadale, Flora Macdonald had exchanged the vessel which
Captain Fergusson commanded, for one commanded by Commodore Smith, a
gentleman capable of estimating her character. At Armadale, she procured
a change of clothes, and took as her personal attendant an honest girl,
named Kate Macdonald, who could speak nothing but Gaelic. This girl
offered herself as a servant, finding that Flora could get no one else
to attend her in her calamity.
Among her companions in
trouble, she found, on returning to the ship, Captain O'Neil, who had
persuaded her to undertake the enterprise which had produced her present
imprisonment. This gentleman had also, when he urged her good offices,
proffered his hand in marriage, in order that her reputation might not
suffer by her adventure by "flood and field." When Flora saw him on
board the vessel, she went up to him, and slapping him on the cheek,
said, "To that black face I owe all my misfortune!" O'Neil however
answered, "that, instead of being her misfortune, it was her highest
honour, and it would yet redound more to her credit, if she did not
pretend to be ashamed of what she had done." She was confined for a
short time in Dunstaffnage castle. This now ruinous fortress, once a
royal residence, is situated near the mouth of Loch Etive, a short
distance from Oban, in Argyleshire; It stands upon a rocky promontory
which juts out into the lake, which is one of the most secluded and
solemn scenes that nature, in all the grandeur of those regions,
presents. Near the castle is a convenient building, which is now, as
probably it was in 1745, inhabited by the factors of the Duke of Argyle,
who is the hereditary keeper of Dunstaffnage castle, under the Crown. It
was probably in this house that Flora was lodged. The castle is on three
of its sides little else than a shell; but the fourth is in tolerable
repair. The entrance to this sequestered and solemn abode is from the
sea, by a staircase; probably in old times a drawbridge, which fell from
a staircase. The ancient grandeur of Dunstaffnage, long used as one of
the earliest residences of the Scottish kings; famed also as the place
from which the stone of Dunstaffnage, sometimes called the Stone of
Scone, on which they were crowned, was brought; had long passed away
before Flora tenanted its chambers. But the associations which it
presented were not likely to dim the ardour of her loyalty to the last
of that race who had once held their sway over the proud castle of
Dunstaffnage; nor would the roofless chapel, of exquisite architectural
beauty, near Dunstaffnage, where many of the Scottish kings repose, be
an object devoid of deep and mournful interest to one who had lately
beheld a singular instance of the mutability of a human grandeur. Two
letters, which show the mode of Flora Macdonald's introduction to the
keeper of the castle, Neil Campbell, have been preserved. One of them is
as follows:
"Horse-Shoe Bay, Aug.
1716.
"Dear Sir,
"I must desire the favour
of you to forward my letters by an express to Inverary; and, if any are
left with you, let them be sent by the bearer. I shall stay here with
Commodore Smith till Sunday morning. If you can't come, I beg to know if
you have any men now in garrison at your house, and how many? Make my
compliments to your lady, and tell her I am obliged to desire the favour
of her for some days to receive a very pretty young rebel. Her zeal, and
the persuasion of those who ought to have given her better advice, has
drawn her into a most unhappy scrape by assisting the young Pretender to
make his escape. I need say nothing further till we meet; only assure
you that I am, dear sir, your sincere friend and humble servant, " John
Campbell."
"I suppose you have heard
of Miss Flora Macdonald."
Early in September the
ship arrived in Leith Roads, and remained there until November. By this
time the fame of this obscure Highland girl had reached the well-wishers
to Prince Charles in Edinburgh, and many crowded to see her. Among these
was the Rev. Robert Forbes, who happened at that time to be Episcopal
minister of the port. At this period the Episcopal Church of Scotland
consisted of a few scattered congregations, under the spiritual guidance
of a reduced number of titular bishops. The Church was, however, deeply
attached to the Stuarts; and the pious and enthusiastic man who now
visited Flora in her adversity, was among the most zealous of the
adherents to that ill-fated cause. He had himself known calamity, having
been apprehended at St. Simian's in the preceding year, 1743, and
imprisoned until the following May. This circumstance, which had
prevented him from taking any active part in the commotions, preserved
Mr. Forbes in safety; and his exertions, which were directed to the
purpose of collecting, from such of the insurgents as fell in his way,
narratives of their several parts in the events of 1745, have been very
effective. Through his efforts a valuable collection of authentic
memoirs, from which extracts have been published within these last few
years, have added a new light, and consequently a new charm, to the
narrative of Prince Charles's adventures, and to the biography of his
followers.
Mr. Forbes, at the time
when he visited Flora, was residing in the house of Lady Bruce of
Kinross, within the walls of Cromwell's citadel at Leith. It was one
part of Mr. Forbes's plan, in the pursuit of which he contemplated
forming an accurate history of the whole insurrection, to visit the
State prisoners as they were either carried to London, or passed on
their return to the Highlands. Alost of his collection was therefore
formed at the close of the last campaign, when the recollections of the
unfortunate1 actors in the affair were vivid and accurate. Among other
minor occupations was the acquisition of relics of Charles Edward, whom
the worthy divine almost idolized. "Perhaps," says Mr. Chambers, "the
most curious and characteristic part of the work is a series of relics
which are found attached to the inside of the boards of certain volumes.
In one I find a slip of thick blue silk cloth, of a texture like
sarcenet, beneath which is written, 'The above is a piece of the
Prince's garter.' Below this is a small square piece of printed linen,
the figures being in lilac on a white ground, with the following
inscription : ' The above is a piece of the identical gown which the
Prince wore for live or six days, when he was obliged to disguise
himself in a female dress, under the name of Betty Burke. A swatch of
the said gown was sent from Mrs. Macdonald of Kingsburgh. Then follows a
slip of tape, with the following note: ' The following is a piece of
that identical apron-string which the Prince wore about him when in a
female dress. The above bit I received out of Miss Flora Macdonald's own
hands, upon Thursday, November 5, 1747.' "
In 1762, this reverend
enthusiast was chosen by the presbyteries of Caithness and Orkney as
their bishop, and was consecrated at Cupar in Fife in the same year. He
was the last bishop whose charge was limited only to those two
districts.
Mr; Forbes was
accompanied in his visits to Flora Macdonald, white at Leith, by Lady
Bruce, Lady Mary Cochrane, Mrs. Clerk, and many other ladies; who made
valuable presents of clothes to the heroine, and who listened to her
narrative, as she delivered it to Mr. Forbes, with many expressions of
sympathy and applause. When she related that part of her voyage from
Uist in which the Prince watched over her whilst asleep, some of these
fair Jacobites cried out.
"O, madam! what a happy
creature you are, to have that dear Prince to watch over you in your
sleep." "I could," cried Mrs. Alary Clerk, "wipe your shoes with
pleasure, and think it my honour to do so, when I reflect that you had
the Prince for your handmaid!" Perhaps not the worst gift sent to Flora,
during her stay at Leith, was a thimble and needles, with white thread
of different sorts, from Lady Bruce. This act of friendship Flora felt
as much as any that she received, for she had suffered as much from the
state of idleness during her being in custody, as from any other
privation.
Her time thus passed away
almost cheerfully. Her gentle, prudent, and placid deportment won upon
the esteem of those who were least friendly to her opinions. The
officers who were appointed to guard her, although they could not permit
her to set her foot on shore, were pleased at the attention which she
received from visitors. Commodore Smith behaved to her with fatherly
regard. Whilst she was in Leith Boads, in the Eltham, he presented her
with a handsome riding-suit, in plain mounting, and some fine linen for
riding-shirts. He gave her advice how to act in her difficult and
perilous situation, and even allowed the officers to go ashore to seek
for good company for their prisoner; although persons who merely came
from curiosity were denied access. Captain Knowles of the Bridgewater,
also in the Leith Boads, was most courteous and considerate to the
amiable prisoner. When her friends visited her, she was allowed to ask
for such refreshments for them as she thought proper; as if she had been
at her own fireside. Easy, modest, and winning, in the midst of all her
anxiety for her friends, and in the uncertainty of her own fate, she was
cheerful; yet a subdued and modest gravity gave an interest to her
unpretending character. When solicited to join .n the amusement of
dancing, she refused, alleging that her "dancing-days were over; and
that, at all events, she could not dance until she should be assured of
the Prince's safety, and until she had the happiness of seeing him
again.''
At length, carrying with
her the good wishes of all who had conversed with her. Flora left the
harbour of Leith. After being conveyed from place to place, she was put
on board the Roval Sovereign on the twenty-seventh of November, the
vessel then lying at the Nore, and conveyed to London. Here she was kept
a prisoner under circumstances of great mitigation, for she was lodged
in a private house. In this situation she continued for a year; when the
Act of indemnity, passed in 1747, set her at liberty. She was then
discharged, without a single question being addressed to her on the
subject of her conduct. After being released,—at the instigation,
according to a traditior in her family, of Frederic Prince of Wales,—she
was domesticated in the family of the Dowager Lady Primrose, an ardent
Jacobite, who afterwards, in 1750, was courageous enough to receive the
young Chevalier during a visit of five days, which were employed by
Charles in the vain endeavour to form another scheme of invasion. The
abode of Lady Primrose was the resort of the fashionable world ; and
crowds of the higher classes hastened to pay their tribute to the
heroine of the day. It may be readily conjectured, how singular an
impression the quiet, simple manners of Flora must have made upon the
excited minds of those who looked, perhaps, for high pretensions,—for
the presence of an amazon, and the expressions of an heroine of romance.
The compliments which were offered to Flora, excited in her mind nothing
hut the most unequivocal surprise that so simple an act should produce
so extraordinary a sensation. She is stated to have been presented to
Frederic Prince of Wales, and to have received from him the highest
compliment to her fidelity and heroism. When, in explanation of her
conduct, Flora Macdonald said that she would perform the same act of
humanity to any person who might be similarly situated, the Prince
remarked, "You would, I hope, madam, do the same, were the same event to
happen over again." The grace and courtesy of this speech may partly be
attributed to the amiable traits which profligate habits had not wholly
obliterated in the Prince; partly to his avowed opposition to his royal
father, and the bad terms on which he stood with his brother. It must
still be acknowledged, that Frederic displayed no ordinary degree of
good-feeling in this interview with Flora. His son George the Third, and
his grandson George the Fourth, both did credit to themselves by
sentiments equally generous towards their ill-fated and royal kinsman.
After this intoxicating
scene, presenting in their most brilliant colours, to the eye of one who
had never visited either Edinburgh or London, the fascinations of the
higher classes of society, Flora returned to Skye. She left the
metropolis unchanged in her early affections, unaltered in the
simplicity of her manners. The country, presenting so lately the
miserable spectacle of civil war, was now calmed into a mournful
tranquillity, as she passed through it on her journey to Skye ; but in
the Highlands, and more especially in the Western Isles, the love and
loyalty which had of old been devoted to the Stuarts were unaltered. It
was, indeed, long before they were obliterated; and, for years after the
fatal 1745, the name of Charles Edward was uttered with tears. Nor is
this sentiment of respect even now extinct: nor will it, perhaps, ever
be wholly annihilated.
The journey from London
to Skye was performed by Flora in a postchaise, and her expenses were
defrayed by Lady Primrose. Her companion was, by her own choice, Malcolm
Macleod of Raasay, who had met the Prince at Portree, and had completed
the work begun by Flora. He too had been imprisoned, but had regained
his liberty. "So," afterwards Malcolm related to his friends, with a
triumphant air, "I went to London to be hanged, and returned in a
postchaise with Miss Flora Macdonald!" They visited Dr. Burton, another
released prisoner, at York Here Malcolm was asked by that gentleman what
was his opinion of Prince Charles. He is the most cautious man not to be
a coward, and the bravest not to be rash, that I ever saw," was the
reply.
In 1750, Flora Macdonald
was married to her cousin Alexander Macdonald the younger of Kingsburgh,
who appears to have been worthy of his distinguished wife. In person,
young Kingsburgh had completely the figure of a gallant Highlander, the
graceful mien and manly looks which a certain popular Scots' song has
attributed to that character. "When receiving Dr. Johnson in
after-years, Kingsburgh appeared in true Highland costume, with his
plaid thrown about him, a large blue bonnet with a knot of black ribbon
like a cockade, a brown short coat of a kind of duffil, a tartan
waistcoat with gold buttons and gold button-holes, a bluish philibeg,
and tartan hose. He had jet hair tied behind; and was a large stately
man, with a steady sensible countenance." Such was the man to whom,
after a short eventful period of peril and vicissitude, it was the lot
of Flora Macdonald to be united. Kingsburgh is also declared by Roswell
to have had one virtue of his country in perfection—that of hospitality;
and, in this, to have far surpassed the son of Lady Margaret Macdonald,
Sir Alexander Macdonald of Armadale, an English-bred chieftain, at whose
house Dr. Johnson and his friend "had small company, and could not boast
of their cheer." That gentleman, "an Eton-bred scholar," had few
sympathies with the poor tenants by whom he was surrounded. So true is
Dr. Johnson's remark. "that the Highland chiefs should not be allowed to
go farther south than Aberdeen."
In her union with young
Kingsburgh Flora enjoyed a source of satisfaction not to be estimated
lightly. She became the daughter-in-law of a man whose virtues were
remembered with the deepest respect in Skye. When in 1773 Dr. Johnson
and Boswell visited the island, they found Flora and her husband living
in apparent prosperity in the dwelling wherein Charles Edward had been
so hospitably entertained. Kingsburgh the younger, as the head of the
house, received the Doctor at his door, and with respectful attention
supported him into the house. A comfortable parlour with a good fire was
appropriated to the guests, and the "dram" went round. Presently supper
was served, and then Flora made her appearance. "To see Dr. Samuel
Johnson, the great champion of the English Tories, salute Miss Flora
Macdonald in the isle of Skye, was," as Boswell observes, "a striking
sight." In their notions Flora and the Doctor were in many respects
congenial; and Dr. Johnson not only had imbibed a high opinion of Flora,
but found that opinion confirmed on acquaintance.
Conversation flowed
freely. Flora told him that during a recent visit to the mainland she
had heard that Mr. Boswell was coming to Skye; and that Mr. Johnson, a
young English "buck," was coming with him. Dr. Johnson was highly
entertained with this fancy. He retired however early to rest, and
reposed on the very bed on which Charles Edward had slept so long and so
soundly on his way from Mugstat to Portree. The room was decorated with
a great variety of maps and prints; among others was Hogarth's head of
Wilkes grinning, with the cap of Liberty on a pole by him. Boswell
appears, as far as we can guess from his expressions, to have shared the
apartment. "To see Dr. Samuel Johnson," remarks Boswell, "lying on that
bed in the isle of Skye, in the house of Miss Flora Macdonald, again
struck me with such a group of ideas as it is not easy for words to
express." Upon Boswell giving vent to this burst of rapture, Dr. Johnson
smiled and said, "I have had no ambitious thoughts in it." He afterwards
remarked, that he would have given a great deal rather than not have
lain in that bed.
On quitting the house,
Dr. Johnson and his friend were rowed by Kingsburgh, across one of the
lochs which flow in upon all the coasts of Skye, to a place called
Grishinish; and here the Highland host bade his guests adieu. All seemed
smiling and prosperous; but even at this time Kingsburgh was embarrassed
in his affairs, and contemplated going to America.
That scheme was
eventually accomplished. During the passion for emigration which
prevailed in the Highlands, Kingsburgh removed to North Carolina, where
he purchased an estate. Scarcely had he settled upon his property before
the American war broke out. Like most of the Jacobites who were in
America at that time, he sided with the British Government. He even took
up arms in the cause, and became captain of a regiment called the North
Carolina Highlanders. Many singular adventures occurred both to him and
to Flora in the course of the contest. At length they returned to Skye,
but not together; she sailed first. In the voyage home, her ship
encountered a French ship of war. An action ensued. "Whilst the ladies
among the passengers were below, Flora stayed on deck, and encouraged
the sailors with her voice and manner. She was thrown down in the
confusion, and broke her arm. With her wonted vivacity she afterwards
observed, that she had risked her life both for the House of Stuart and
for that of Brunswick, but had got very little for her pains. Her
husband remained in America for some time after she returned to
Scotland, but joined her at last.
Flora had a numerous
family of sons and daughters. Charles, her eldest son, was a captain in
the Queen's Rangers. He was worthy of bearing his mother's name. As his
kinsman, the late Lord Macdonald, saw his remains lowered into the
grave, he remarked, "There lies the most finished gentleman of my family
and name!" Alexander, the second son, also in the King's service, was
lost at sea. Ranald, the third, was a captain of Marines. He was
remarkable for his elegant person, and estimable for his high
professional reputation. James, the fourth son, served in Tarlton's
British Legion, and was a brave officer. The late Lieutenant-Colonel
John Macdonald, in Exeter, long survived his brothers. This officer was
introduced to King George the Fourth, who observed, on his presentation,
to those around him, "This gentleman is the son of a lady to whom my
family (thus designating the Stuarts) owe a great obligation." Of two
daughters, one, Mrs. Macleod of Lochbuy, died not many years ago.
From Mrs. Macdonald to Mrs. Mackenzie of
Delvijne by Dunkell.
"Dunvegan, twenty-fourth
July, 1780.
"Dear Madam,
"I arrived at Inverness
the third day after parting with you, in good health and without any
accidents, which I always dread; my young 'squire continued always very
obliging and attentive to me. I stayed at Inverness for three days. I
had the good-luck to meet with a female companion from that to Skye. I
was the fourth day, with great difficulty, at Raasay, for my hands being
so pained with the riding.
"I arrived here a few
days ago with my young daughter, who promises to be a stout Highland
dairg, quite overgrown of her age. Nanny and her small family are well:
her husband was not sailed the last accounts she had from him.
''I have the pleasure to
inform you, upon my arrival here, that I had two letters from my
husband; the latter dated tenth May. He was then in very good health,
and informs me that my son Charles has got the command of a troop of
horse in Lord Cathcart's regiment. Rut alas I'll have heard nothing
since I left you about my son Sandy, which you may be sure gives me
great uneasiness; but still hope for the best.
"By public and private
news, I hope we will soon have peace re-established, to our great
satisfaction: which, as it's a thing long expected and wished for, will
be for the utility of the whole nation; especially to poor me, that has
my all engaged,—fond to hear news, and yet afraid to get it.
"I wait here till a
favourable opportunity for the Long Island shall offer itself.—As I am
upon all occasions under the greatest obligations to you, would you get
a letter from my son Johny sooner than I would get one from him, you
would very much oblige me by dropping me a few dues communicating to me
the most material part of his letter.
"I hope you and the
ladies of your family will always accept of my kindest respects; and I
ever am, with esteem, dear madam, your affectionate, humble servant, "
Flora Macdonald.
"Please direct to me, to
Mrs. Macdonald. late of Kingsborrow, South Uist, by Dunvegan."
Two years, it seems,
elapsed, and the summer of 1782 arrived, and the fate of Alexander
Macdonald was still unknown; yet the mother's heart still clung to hope,
as it proved by the following letter. No murmurs escape from one who
seems to have sustained unrepiningly the sorrows which reach the heart
most truly * the wreck of fortune, not for ourselves, but for our
children, and the terrors of suspense. One source of consolation she
possessed : her surviving sons were brave, honourable, and respected.
But "Sandy " never returned.
Mrs. Mackenzie of
Delvi5n, by Dunkell.
" Milton, third of July,
1782.
Dear Madam,
"I received your
agreeable favour a fortnight ago, and ain happy to find that your health
is not worse than when I left you. I return you my sincere thanks for
your being so mindful of me as to send me the agreeable news about
Johny's arrival, which relieved me from a great deal of distress, as
that was the first accounts I. had of him since he sailed. I think, poor
man he has been very lucky, for getting into bread so soon after
landing. I had a letter from -John, which, I suppose, came by the same
conveyance with yours. I am told by others that it will be in his power
now to show his talents, as being in the engineer department. He speaks
feelingly of the advantages he got in his youth, and the good example
showed him, which I hope will keep him from doing anything that is
either sinful or shameful.
"I received a letter from
Captain Macdonald, my husband, dated from Halifax, the twelfth of
November '82; he was then recovering his health, but had been very
tender for some time before. My son Charles is captain in the British
Legion, and James a lieutenant in the same: they are both in New York.
Ranald is captain of Marines, and was with Rodney at the taking of St.
Eustatia. As for my son Sandy, who was a-missing, I had accounts of his
being carried to Lisbon, but nothing certain, which I look upon the
whole as a hearsay; but the kindness of Providence is still to be looked
upon, as I have no reason to complain, as God has been pleased to spare
his father and the rest. I am now at my brothers house, on my way to
Skye, to attend my daughter, who is to lie-in in August; they arc all in
health at present. As for my health at present, it's tolerable,
considering my anxious mind and distress of times.
"It gives me a great deal
of pleasure to hear such good accounts of young Mr. M'Kinnie :no doubt
he has a great debt to pay, who represents his worthy and amiable uncle.
I hope you will be so good as remember me to your female companions. I
do not despair of the pleasure of seeing you once more, if peace was
restored; and I am, dear madam, with respect and esteem, your
affectionate friend,
"Flora Macdonald
Flora died in 1790,
having attained the age of seventy. Her corpse was interred, wrapt in
the sheet on which Charles Edward had lain at Kingsburgh, and which she
had carried with her to America, intending that, wherever she should be
entombed, it should serve as her winding-sheet.
The life and character of
Flora Macdonald exemplify how true it is, that, in the performance of
daily duties, and in domestic life, the loftiest qualities of woman may
be formed ; for the hourly practice of self-control, the exercise of
judgment, the acquisition of fortitude, tend to the perfection of those
virtues which ennobled her career. In all her trials she acted a woman's
part. Her spirit was fortified by a strength that was ever gentle. She
was raised by circumstances above a private sphere; when these ceased to
actuate her, she returned cheerfully to what many might deem obscurity,
but which she gladdened by a kind and cheerful temper. No vain-glory, no
egotism, vulgarized her one great effort. The simplicity of her
character was inherent and unextinguishable; and the deep interest which
was attached to her character was never lessened by any display. Her
enthusiasm for the Stuart cause ceased only with her life. When any
person thoughtlessly, or cruelly, applied the term "Pretender" to the
Prince whom she reverenced, her anger for a moment was aroused. But
contention ill accorded with the truly feminine, yet noble and
well-principled, mind of Flora Macdonald. Upon the error or truth of
that belief in hereditary and indefeasible right which she entertained,
it is of little moment, in estimating her virtues, to pass an opinion.
Perhaps we may venture to conclude with Dr. Johnson. "that being in
rebellion, from a notion of another's right, is not connected with
depravity; and that we had this proof of it, that all mankind applaud
the pardoning of rebels, which they would not do in the case of
murderers and robbers." |