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KING GEORGE’S forces,
twice defeated in the field by the insurgents,
were now at last victorious, and their victory was
followed by such cruelties and atrocities as never
have disgraced a British army. It may be admitted
at once that, from the point of view of the
Government, severity, even great severity, was
justifiable. Militant Jacobitism had to be stamped
out once for all, and the military clan system had
to be broken up. It was quite out of the question
that the north of Scotland should be left in such
a condition as to make another rising possible. It
may be admitted also that the antecedents and
training of the Duke of Cumberland were very
different from those of a British General. What
there is to say in his defence has been
temperately said by Mr Hill Burton.
"To believe
that this victory was followed by much cruelty, it
is not necessary to believe that the cruelty was
wanton. We may be assured, from the Duke of
Cumberland’s character, that he was led by a sense
of duty. But that duty led him to severity. He was
a soldier, according to the German notions of a
soldier, and a rebel province was a community to
be subjected to martial law. Many of the
insurgents, attempting to escape or hide
themselves, when detected by well-known
peculiarities, were put to death by the soldiery,
who, even when they made a mistake and slew the
wrong man, could not easily be punished. The Duke,
brought up in the German military school, seems to
have been unable to distinguish between a
rebellion suppressed in constitutional Britain,
where all men are supposed to be innocent but
those proved to be guilty, and a revolted German
province, where every accorded grace to the
unfortunate people proceeds from the will of the
conqueror. Thus there was a propensity to subject
all the northern districts to something too
closely resembling military law or license."
It may also
be admitted that some stories have received
general credence without much examination of the
evidence on which they rest, but, after all
palliations have been conceded and after all
exaggerations have been deducted, there remains an
amply authenticated residue of hideous charges
against the Duke, his officers, and his army.
Bishop Forbes made it his business to collect
evidence with regard to these atrocities, and the
numerous documents relating to them which are
included in the Lyon in Mourning, and have
recently been given to the world for the first
time at full length, present a sickening record of
infamous outrage and devilish cruelty. We give two
specimen documents, with Bishop Forbes’s notes.
Their unstudied language presents a more vivid
picture of the terrible reality than could be
given by any modern paraphrase. Some facts may be
exaggerated, but it will be seen that the writers
have been careful to avoid groundless statements.
When it is recollected that the deeds narrated
took place in the Highlands of Scotland in modern
times, and were perpetrated by regular troops
under the command of English officers, it will be
well understood why the name of the Butcher
Cumberland is still mentioned in the North with
loathing and horror.
The first
document is a narrative written by Mr Francis
Stewart, son of Bailie John Stewart of Inverness,
and communicated by him to Bishop Forbes on
October 4, 1748.
"To
recollect and enumerate all the hardships endured
and cruelties committed in and about Inverness, on
and after the 16th of April 1746, is what I cannot
pretend to do; and I am certain many things were
done that very few, if any, can give any account
of. The following facts you have, as I
either saw them myself or was informed of them by
others:-
"It is a
fact undeniable, and known almost to everybody,
that upon Friday, the 18th of April, which was the
2nd day after the battle, a party was regularly
detached to put to death all the wounded men that
were found in and about the field of battle. That
such men were accordingly put to death is also
undeniable, for it is declared by creditable
people who were eye-witnesses to that most
miserable and bloody scene. I myself was told by
William Rose, who was then greeve to my Lord
President, that 12 wounded men were carried out of
his house and shot in a hollow, which is within
very short distance of the place of action.
William Rose’s wife told this fact to creditable
people, from whom I had it more circumstantially.
She said that the party came to her house, and
told the wounded men to get up, that they might
bring them to surgeons to get their wounds dress’d.
Upon which, she said, the poor men, whom she
thought in so miserable a way that it was
impossible they could stir, made a shift to get
up; and she said they went along with the party
with an air of cheerfulness and joy, being full of
the thought that their wounds were to be dressed.
But, she said, when the party had brought them the
length of the hollow above mentioned, which is at
a very short distance from her house, she being
then within the house, heard the firing of several
guns, and coming out immediately to know the
cause, saw all those brought out of her house,
under the pretence of being carried to surgeons,
were dead men.
"Upon the
same day the party was detached to put to death
all the wounded men in and about the field of
battle. There was another party detached, under
the cornmand of Collonel Cockeen, to bring in the
Lady McIntosh, prisoner, from her house at Moy.
Tho’ Cockeen himself was reckoned a most discreet,
civile man, yet he found it impossible to restrain
the barbarity of many of his party, who,
straggling before, spared neither sex nor age they
met with; so that the lady has told many that she
herself counted above 14 dead bodies of men,
women, and children ‘twixt Moy and Inverness.
There is one woman still alive who is a sufficient
document of the barbarity of Cockeen’s party; for
she, after receiving many cuts of swords on the
face and many stabbs of bayonets in other parts of
her body, was left for dead on the highway.
However, it has pleased Providence that she still
lives to set forth to the world the monstrous
cruelty of those miscreants, by a face quite
deformed, and many other conspicuous marks of
their barbarity.
"I had
almost forgot to tell you of a most monstrous act
of cruelty committed by the party before
mentioned, which was detached to the field of
action—that is, the burning of a house near the
field, in which there were about
18
wounded men. This fact is well
vouched by many creditable people. I myself heard
one, Mrs Taylor, a wright’s wife at Inverness,
tell that she went up the day thereafter to the
field to search for the body of a brother-in-law
of hers who was killed, and that she saw in the
rubish the bodies of severals of those that had
been scorched to death in a most miserable,
mangled way.
"The
cruelties committed the day of the action are so
many that I cannot pretend at all to enumerate
them. That no quarter was given is a thing
certain. There is one instance of this that I
cannot ommitt. A very honest old gentleman, of the
name of McLeod, was pursued by two of the Light
Horse from the place of action to the hill near
Inverness called the Barnhill; and when he came
there, and found
it
impossible to save his life any
further by flight, he went on his knees and beg’d
quarters of the two that pursued him, but both of
them refused his request, and shot him through the
head. Several of the inhabitants of Inverness were
witnesses to this fact. There was another poor man
shot by a soldier at the door of one Widow McLean,
who lives in the Bridge Street of Inverness, as he
was making his way for the Bridge. There was a
most monstrous act committed in the house of one
Widow Davidson in the afternoon after the action.
A gentleman, falling sick in town, took a room at
her house, being a retired place. He was in a
violent fever the day of the action, and unable to
make his escape when he was told the Prince and
his army were defeat. Several soldiers coming up
in the afternoon to this Widow Davidson’s, the
maid of the house told them there was a rebell
above stairs, upon which they went immediately,
rushed into the room wherein the poor gentleman
lay, and cut his throat from ear to ear. This I
was told by an honest woman, a neighbour of Mrs
Davidson’s, who went to the room and saw the
gentleman after his throat was cut.
"The
proceedings after His Royal Highness came in to
town were, I’m certain, unprecedented. Many
gentlemen were taken and confined amongst the
common prisoners without any reason given them for
their being so used, and after being confined they
were for some time denied the use of both bedding
and provisions, so that some of them have not to
this day recovered the cold they contracted and
the bad usage they met with at that time. The
women of Inverness did not escape His Royal
Highness his notice. Severals of them were made
prisoners and confined to the common guard,
amongst whom was the Lady Dowager Mackintosh, who
was confined for the space of 14 days, and
contracted so violent a cold during that time that
she had almost died of it. The usage the prisoners
in general met with was so monstrous that I am
certain there are few, if any, histories can
parallel the like of it. The allowance of
provision for gentle and simple was pound meal
each per day, and very often not so much watter
given them as wou’d help them to swallow it. I
myself have gone often by the prison at that
melancholy time, when I heard the prisoners crying
for watter in the most pitifull manner. Many died
at that time of their wounds, that were never
dressed nor look’t to, in the utmost agony; and as
none of the inhabitants durst take the least
concern in them, dead or alive, I have several
times seen 3 or 4 dead bodies in a day carried out
of the prisons by the beggars, and brought, all
naked, through the streets to be buried in the
churchyard.
"N.B.--—The
original of the
above, in the handwriting of Mr Francis Stewart,
is to be found among my papers. The said Mr
Stewart is betwixt nineteen and twenty years of
age, and is a modest, sober, sensible youth.
"ROBERT
FORBES, A.M."
The next
document is a narrative written by the Rev. James
Hay of Inverness and sent by him to Bishop Forbes
in May 1749
"One of the
dragoons who came first into Inverness after the
battle of Culloden oblidged a servant maid to hold
his horse in a doss, and then he followed two Low
Country men into a house, where he hash’d them
with his broad sword to death. The maid heard
their lamentable cryes. and when he came out he
was all blood. Poor men! they had no arms.
"At the same
time some of these dragoons found a gentleman who
was highly distressed with a fever, not able to
stur from his bed, and there they cut his throat.
He and the other two were some time unburied, for
none durst venture to do it. Ther was a poor
beggar killed on the street.
"The
prisoners were in a most miserable condition,
being stripped of their cloaths when taken. They
were sent to prisons, and some had not wherewith
to cover their nakedness. No regard had to the
cryes of the wounded, or to the groans of the
dying. No surgeon allow’d to apply proper remedies
for their care or recovery, and when any of these
were in the same unhappy circumstances their
instruments were taken from them that they might
give no relief. It was reckon’d highly crirnenal
and very dangerous to give them anything, even
water. The servant maids had more than common
courage. They did (men and boys being allowed to
go to the prisoners, but the guards were
discharged upon their peril to let any of them
out), all that was possible for them, tho’ they
were sure of maletreatment. And Anna M’Kaye, ["See
f. 1124, where this story is more minutely told.
The agreement or sameness of circumstances in the
narratives of Mr Hay and Mr Stewart is the more
remarkable, as I never allowed Mr Hay to know that
I had got anything from Mr Stewart, who went from
Leith to London and from London to Carolina, so
that Mr Hay and he had no opportunity of comparing
notes together—an undeniable proof of the truth of
the facts. I take the same fact from ten different
hands if I can have it from so many.—Robert
Forbes, AM."] a poor woman descended of very
honest substantiall people in the Isle of Sky, who
had her house and effects of a considerable value
burnt, as was attested by the best in that island,
made it her chief bussiness to get for and carry
to the prisoners every thing that possibly she
could; so that she was justly called the
prisoners’ nurse. When Mr Nairn made his escape,
sad and dismall was the treatment she met with.
Poor woman! what small effects she had got (she
being in town sometime before) was taken from her,
and she was carried to the guard among a house
full of sogars, and the orders were that she
should not be allowed to sitt or ly down, and in
that condition she was keept for three days and
three nights. The common language she was
intertained with she will not nor cannot express.
She was at five court martialls, had many promises
and many threatenings, such as scourging to tell
who had a hand in Mr Nairn’s escape. She was keept
seven weeks thereafter in common prison, and
contracted a swelling in her legs that she’ll
never get the better of.
"Murdoch
M’Raw was taken in or near Fort Augustus, who had
no concern in the Highland army. (He was nearest
relation to the chieftain of that name.) Being
sent prisoner to Inverness, where he was not above
one hour when he was hang’d at the Cross on the
Apple tree. The only thing they alledg’d against
him, that he was a spy, which he positively deny’d,
and when they put the rope about his neck, he,
believing they did it for diversion, said, ‘You
have gone far enough, if this be jest.’ He was
keept hanging there naked a night and the most of
two days. He appeared all the time as if had been
sleeping, his mouth and eyes being shut doss, a
very uncommon thing in those who die such a death.
Sometimes they . . . and whiped the dead body for
their diversion.
"Eavan M’Kay
was taken in the Highlands by a whig teacher with
letters in French or cyphers, and was sent into
town, where he was most barbarously and inhumanly
treated. Being asked from whom he had and to whom
he was going with the letters, to which he giving
no answer got five hundred lashes, being ty’d to a
stake, and then sent to prison again. Some days
after he got five hundred more, and they threatn’d
to whip him to death if he would not discover what
they wanted. None durst go nigh him while in the
pit with any necessary; and when they threw down a
pound of meal, which was all the allowance given
to any one of the prisoners,
it
was found untouch’d, he being
sickly, full of sores, and most barbarously struck
by one of the sogars with the butt of his gun in
the breast, of which he complain’d while he lived.
At last he was carryed to the Tolbooth. One there
said to him that he was a great fool not to
discover what he knew, to which he gave a noble
return: ‘You are the fool. It signifies nothing
what they can do to me (Let them do the worst) in
respect of what could be done to those from whom I
had and to whom I was going with the letters.
Their deaths would be great loss, but mine will be
none.’ His father and he had considerable effects,
and all were taken, and the poor father was
begging in the town that very time, but durst not
say that he was his son. A charitable person, when
he died, sent word that if they would allow his
body one hour to lie unburied a coffin and grave
cloaths would be got, but that was refused. Being
carryed to the grave by two or three beggars, a
sogar went and thrust his bayonet several times
into the body, to try (as he said) if the rebel!
was dead.
"Jo. Fraser,
then present provost, was taken from denner by an
officer and musquetiers to Cumberland’s stable,
where he was ordered to clean it. He said he never
cleand his own. He was oblidged to gett men to do
it,
and there stay for some hours
until! they had done.
"Provest
Hosack, with the majestrates, having gone to the
levie to pay their complements, hearing orders
given to shut the ports that no rebel! might
escape, and that the meeting house should be burnd
and the man who preachd in it, said he hoped they
would mix mercy with judgment. Upon which they
said: ‘D— n you puppie, do you pretend to dictate
here?’ They orderd him to be kickd down stairs.
Accordingly he was tossd to the stair head from
one to another, and there one of a considerable
character gave him a toss that he never touchd the
stair untill he was at the foot of the first fiate
of it.
These two gentlemen were ill
rewarded,’ for none could be more attached to the
Government than they were. But they had compassion
on the distress’d and oppress’d, which was then
ane unpardonable crime of the deepest dye. When
the orders about the meeting house were given by
Halley, Husk said that it should be taken down and
the timber given for the ovens, which was done.
"It’s not
possible to find out the certainty of the poysoned
bread. I was told by a person of credite, that a
woman in great want saw them burying bread, which
afterwards she took a part of, and she and her two
children did eat of it, and all the three were
dead within 24 hours. One of C—d’s sogars said
there were some wagons with poysoned bread, and
ane gentleman belonging to his army told the same,
for he would not, he said, midle with there bread.
This is all I can learn about it.
"A gentleman who was long
prisoner in Inverness told me that he saw an
officer, winter ‘46, when it was excessively cold
and the fireing so scarce that the inhabitants had
the greatest difficulty to get any at the greatest
price, when the prisoners many times were crying
that they would sterve with cold, give half a
crown to the sogars to go in a very cold night and
extinguish the prisoner’s fire and light, which
they did accordingly. All the officers of
Blackney’s regement, except three, were extremely
cruel, but none exceeded Captain Dunlope, who
occasioned the prisoners much misery; he being
Blackney’s advicer, who being a man of a timorous
disposition, was aifraid to leave undone what he,
Dunlope, thought proper to be done. Collonell
Leightown was like an infernall fiand when Mr
Nairn made his escape, and was one of poor Anna
M’Kayes greatest persecuteors, who sometimes
offerd her severall guineas, and promised to do
great things for her if she would tell who
assisted Mr Nairn, and who were in the knowledge
of his escapeing. At other times he threatnd her
in a terrible manner with several! punishments,
particularly scourgeing. But all proved in vain.
"When an account was given that
there were many wounded in houses on the field of
batle the orders given were that the houses should
be burnt and all within them, and if any offerd to
come out that they should be shot. Its impossible
to know what number suffer’d. There were three
tennants’ houses and all their office houses. The
first that ventur’d to go near that place saw most
shocking sights, some of their bodies boiling and
others lying with the marks of their ruffels,
which when they touched they went into ashes.
"Orders were given on the
Fryday to ane officer, Hobbie, or such a name,
that he should go to the field of bade and cause
carry there all the wounded in the neighbouring
houses at a miles distance, some more, some less,
and kill them upon the field, which orders were
obeyed accordingly. When these orders were given
at the levie, an officer who was well pleased told
it to his comrades. One of them replyd, ‘D—n him
who had taken that order.’ He could not do ane
inhumane thing, tho no mercy should be shewn to
the rebels.
"An officer was heard more than
once say that he saw that day seventy-two killed,
or, as he termed it, knocked in the head. He was a
young captain.
"An officer upon his return
from seeing the field of balk told he saw a
beautiful young man ~ quite naked and mortally
wounded, who begged of him that he might shoot
him, which shockd the officer who said, ‘God
forbid, how can you imagine that?’ He replyed that
he had seen seventeen shot by an officer and those
who were orderd by him. The officer gave him a
dram, which he greedily took, and no wonder, and
put (him) like a sack upon a horse and carryed to
an house where there were wounded redcoats, who
were most disagreeable neighbours to him. From
that he was carryed to an hospitall, and
thereafter to Anna M’Kays house where there were
very poor intertainment, but she did all she
possibly could for him. By her care he was
preserved, and is now healthy and strong.
"When the redcoats wounds were
dressed by ane surgeon one of the P—’s men begged
he might dress him to which he replyed that he
would willingly do it, but it was to no purpose
for he would be shott the morrow, which made the
poor distress’d crawl in the night on his fours an
incredible distance, by which means he escaped.
"Its most surprising, and never
can be accounted for how the wounded, quite naked,
and without any kind of nourishment, lived so long
in the open fields, the season being very cold.
One instance is most remarkable of one who was
disabled in both legs, and sadly wounded in many
other places, particularly a sogar struck him on
the face with the butt of his gun which dung out
his eye. When the generall massacre was he lay as
if dead, and on the Saturday an officer viewing
the field cryed were there any of them in life, to
which he answered. The officer gave him half
crown, and ordered him to be carryed to an house,
where the redcoats mockd and ridiculed him,
surprised to see such a sad spectacle, gave him
halfpenny at parting. But the inhumane,
ungenerous, most barbarous canibells rob’d him of
all he got. After staying some dayes there he was
carryd to his friends, and is now going on
crutches.
"A young gentleman of
distinction, mortally wounded, lying on the
ground, was enquired at by Cumberland to who he
belongd. To which he replyd, To the Prince. Then
he orderd one of his great men to shoot him, which
he refused to do; and then another, who said he
would not nor could not do it. Then he applyd to a
common sogar, who obeyd him.
"No doubt you have heard of a
woman in the Highlands when in labour of child,
with 9 or 10 women. A party acquainted their
commander of it, who orderd that the house should
be burnt, with all who were in it. This, when told
by a Collonel, who was there, but had not the
command, cryed and shed tears that such a
barbarous action should be committed by any who
were called Christians.
"McGillavry of Delcrombie, who
was not engag’d with the Prince, being at two
miles distance from the field of battle without
any arms, was attacked by dragoons, who oblidged
him to cast of all his cloaths and give them to
them, to prevent their dismounting, his cloaths
being too good for them to part with, and then
they shot him dead. If they had had but swords and
he one, he would have given 2 or 3 of them enough
of it.
"The men of Glenmoristown and
Urquhart were advised to go to Inverness and
deliver up their arms, upon solemn promises that
they should return safe with protection, which
incourag’d also those who were not ingag’d to go.
How soon they went there they were put into a
church, keept there doss prisoners for a few dayes,
and then put into ships for London. The few that
liv’d with their sad treatment were sent to the
Plantations. To whom the breach of this promise is
owing lyes a secret betwixt the mercifull generall
and beloved knight for the one asserted he had
allowance to do so, and the other refused, so that
every body will be in a strait which of these good
men’s words they can doubt of.
"The horses, cowes and calfs,
ewes and lambs, goats and kids, were taken out of
my Lord Lovat’s country, the Aird and Glenmazerin,
and keept sterving and crying, which was not
agreeable to hear or see. The common treatment
they mett with was a stroak from the sogers, with
D—n your soul, you rebells! These poor creatures
deserv’d to suffer, being highly criminall; and if
any of them were sent with the great flocks from
the Highlands, they (like the ill-gotten penny)
infected and consumed all their kind in England,
and no wonder, for many innocent persons were
deprived of their all.
"Six or seven weeks after the
battle of Culloden, the party commanded by Major
Lockart in Glenmoriston shot two old and one young
man, a son of one of the former, when they were
harrowing, and expecting no harm.
"Grant of Daldrigan, who took
no concern with the Highland army, was ordered by
Lockart (his house being surrounded by sogars) to
gather his own and all the cattle in one part of
the country while Lockart was herrying and burning
the other part, which being impossible for him to
do against the time that Lockart came back, he
ordered him to be bound in hand and foot, erecting
a gallows, stript him naked, and would not allow
his nakedness to be coverd, and carried him to the
foot of the gallows with the three corps of the
men they had killed the day before, like sacks
across on three horses, and hung the three bodies
by the feet in the gallows, and they at the same
time would have killed Daidrigan had not Captain
Grant, in Lowden’s regiment, prevented it. They
would hardly allow his wife time to take her rings
of her fingers, but were going to cutt of her
fingers, having stript her of her cloaths, her
house and effects being burnt. And in the braes of
Glenmoriston a party there ravishd a gentlewoman
big with child, and tenants’ wives, and left them
on the ground after they were ravishd by all the
party. And Lockhart, on his way to Strathglass,
shot a man widing a water, with the Whig teacher’s
protection in his hand to shew him, without
speaking one word. And the whole party ravishd
there a woman big with child, and left her on the
ground almost dead. All these are certain facts
which may be depended upon, being known by a
person of good credite.
"Campbell, an officer of
militia, who was a chamberlain to Seaforth, with a
party went to Fraser of Kilbokies, who was not
with the Highland army, and burnt all his houses
and effects they could not take with them, and
took 13 score of catle, with many horses of the
best kind. His loss was valued at 10,000 merks.
And his wife being brought to bed 14 dayes before,
they forc’d her to fly with a daughter in fever to
the open fields, where they lay that whole night,
being very cold. For several ["This refers to a
story I have heard frequently reported—viz., that
the soldiers’ wives and other women in the camp at
Fort Augustus should (quite naked) have run races,
sometimes on foot and sometimes mounted astraddle
on Highland shelties, for the entertainment of
Cumberland and his officers. See Scots Magazine
for June 1746, p. 288, 1st col.—Robert Forbes,
A.M."] days they killed man, wife, and child many
miles from the field of bade. At 5 miles distance
ane honest poor woman on the day of batle, who was
brought to bed Sunday before, flying with her
infant, was attacked by 4 dragoons, who gave her
seven wounds in the head thro one plaid, which was
eight fold and one in the arm. Then one of them
took the infant by the thigh, threw it about his
hand, and at last to the ground. Her husband, at
the same time, was chased into a moss so far that
one of the horse could not come out, where his
rider shott him. The young infant who was so
roughly maletreat is a fine boy, and the mother
recovered and is living.
Three days after the batle, at
4 miles distance, the sogers most barbarously cut
a woman in many places of her body, particularly
in the face.
"I am promised some more facts
in few dayes, but I did not incline to lose the
opportunity of this bearer.
"Tho the running naked be
commonly reported, I have not got an account of
the certainty. I beg you may let me know when this
comes to your hands."
Cumberland’s comment on the
deeds of his soldiers is quoted by Lord Mahon:
"I am sorry to leave this
country in the condition it is in," he wrote to
the Duke of Newcastle on July 17, 1746, "for all
the good that we have done has been a little
blood-letting, which has only weakened the
madness, but not cured it; and I tremble for fear
that this vile spot may still be the ruin of this
island and of our family."
While the north of the island
was thus given up to military rapine, the lawyers
were reaping a harvest of death in the south.
Cumberland, it is recorded, pressed for the
"utmost severity." An Act had been passed
suspending the law which required bills for high
treason to be found in the counties where the
crime was committed; under it the Scottish
prisoners were removed for trial to England. The
trials went on for months. In London Colonel
Townley and eight others belonging to the
Manchester regiment were hanged on Kennington
Common. There were 382 prisoners in Carlisle
Castle when the Commission there was opened on
August 12; most of these were permitted to draw
lots for one out of each twenty who was to be
tried on the capital charge; the others were
banished by their own consent. Bills were found
against 127 altogether; of these over thirty
suffered the extreme punishment of treason. The
total number of executions in England was nearly
eighty. Charles Radcliffe, brother of the Earl of
Derwentwater, was executed upon his former
sentence, now thirty years old. Lords Cromarty,
Kilmarnock, and Balmerino were tried by their
peers and convicted; Kilmarnock and Balmerino were
beheaded. Lovat was impeached, and it was in his
trial that Secretary Murray made his memorable
appearance in the witness-box. Lovat was condemned
and executed; perhaps none of the victims deserved
less pity.
In the meantime Prince Charles,
a proscribed fugitive, was being hunted through
the north-western Highlands with a price of
£30,000 on his head. As we have seen, he reached
Gortleg on the evening of Culloden. Next morning
he arrived at Invergarry Castle. Four days later,
after a weary journey on foot over the hills, he
reached Borradale on Lochnanuagh. There he
remained for five days. On April 26 he sailed for
the Hebrides in an open boat, which had been
procured by Donald Macleod of Gualtergill. The
party consisted of the Prince, O’Sullivan, Captain
Felix O’Neil, Allan Macdonald, Donald Macleod, and
Edward Burke, who had guided the Prince from
Culloden, with a crew of seven boatmen. After a
stormy and perilous voyage they landed at
Rossinish in Benbecula. There they remained two
days. On the evening of the 29th they again put to
sea, and next morning reached Scalpa. From Scalpa
Donald Macleod was sent to Stornoway to endeavour
to hire a vessel in which the fugitives might
leave the country. He succeeded in doing so, and
communicated his success to the Prince, who with
the rest of the party crossed to Harris and
proceeded towards Stornoway on foot. The people of
Stornoway, however, had got wind of the purpose
for which the hired ship was wanted, and, fearing
to compromise themselves, had refused to allow her
to depart. There was nothing to be done but to
turn south again. On the morning of May 6 the
party sailed from Arnish, intending to return to
Scalpa. By this time the coast was being watched
by the King’s ships. Four men-of-war were sighted,
and the fugitives put into the desolate Isle of
Iffurt. They reached Scalpa again on the 10th. On
the 11th they landed in Loch Uskavagh. Next day
they walked to Coradale in South Uist.
At Coradale the Prince remained
concealed in a forester’s cottage for more than
three weeks. Here he was comparatively safe. He
was visited by Clanranald, Boisdale, and others of
his friends, and was able to amuse himself with
shooting. Government troops were, however, being
landed in the Hebrides in large numbers, and it
was evident that the Prince’s place of refuge
would soon become too dangerous. On June 6 he
sailed to the Island of Ouia or Wiay. He was now
closely surrounded; parties of regulars and
militia were scouring the island in search of him,
and he heard constantly of the near neighbourhood
of his enemies. On June 10 he went from Ouia to
Rossinish, accompanied by O’Neil. From Rossinish
he went by boat to Uishness Point—near which he
spent the night in a cave—thence to Ciliestella
(Kyle Stuley), and on the 15th landed in Loch
Boisdale.
From the 15th to the 20th of
June the Prince remained in hiding on the shores
of Loch Boisdale, sleeping in the open fields at
night. On the 21st, accompanied by O’Neil, he
reached a hut near Ormaclett, the residence of
Clanranald in Benhecula. It was here that he met
Flora Macdonald.
Flora Macdonald was the
daughter of Macdonald of Milton in South Uist,
whose widow had married Captain Hugh Macdonald of
Armadale, who was in command of one of the militia
companies now on duty in the island. O’Neil. had
previously met her at Ormaclett. He succeeded in
inducing her to render an essential service to the
Prince. His position in the Hebrides was becoming
every hour more dangerous. Failing a passage
abroad his hope of safety lay in getting over to
Skye, but every ferry was closely guarded, and no
one was permitted to leave the island without a
pass.
Miss Macdonald undertook to
conduct the Prince to Skye. She procured from her
step-father a pass for herself, a man-servant, and
her maid, who was described in the pass as Betty
Burke, and whom Captain Macdonald, in a letter to
his wife, described as an "Irish girl" and "a good
spinster." Betty Burke was none other than the
Prince himself. Miss Macdonald hired a six-oared
boat to convey the party across the Minch. On June
27 she met the Prince at his hiding-place, about
eight miles from Ormaclett. On the evening of the
following day they put to sea. The party consisted
of Flora, her servant Neil MacEachan, the Prince,
disguised in women’s clothes as Betty Burke, and
four boatmen. Next morning they reached the point
of Waternish in Skye, where they were fired upon
by a party of Macleod militia. Crossing Loch
Snizort they landed at Kilbride, close to Monkstat,
the seat of Sir Alexander Macdonald. Sir Alexander
was with Cumberland at Inverness, but Flora knew
that the sympathies of his wife, Lady Margaret
Macdonald, a daughter of the Earl of Eglinton,
were on the Prince’s side, and she accordingly
proceeded to Monkstat to inform Lady Margaret of
their arrival, leaving the Prince with the boat.
Macdonald of Kingsburgh, Sir Alexander’s factor,
was in the house, and Lady Margaret took him into
her confidence. It was determined that the Prince
should be conducted to Portree, and thence taken
over to Raasay, and that in the meantime he should
be entertained at Kingsburgh’s house.
The Lyon in Mourning-
contains an exceedingly dramatic account of Betty
Burke’s entertainment at Kingsburgh.
"When the Prince came to
Kingsburgh’s house (Sunday, June 29) it was
between ten and eleven at night; and Mrs
MacDonald, not expecting to see her husband that
night, was making ready to go to bed. One of her
servant maids came and told her that Kingsburgh
was come home, and had brought some company with
him. ‘What company?’ says Mrs MacDonald, ‘Milton’s
daughter, I believe,’ says the maid, ‘and some
company with her.’ ‘Milton’s daughter,’ replies
Mrs MacDonald, ‘is very welcome to come here with
any company she pleases to bring. But you’ll give
my service to her, and tell her to make free with
anything in the house; for I am very sleepy, and
cannot see her this night.’ In a little her own
daughter came and told her in a surprize, ‘O
mother, my father has brought in a very odd,
muckle, ill-shaken-up wife as ever I saw! I never
saw the like of her, and he has gone into the hail
with her.’ She had scarce done with telling her
tale when Kingsburgh came and desired his lady to
fasten on her bucklings again, and to get some
supper for him and the company he had brought with
him. ‘Pray, goodman,’ says she, ‘what company is
this you have brought with you?’ ‘Why, goodwife,’
said he, ‘you shall know that in due time; only
make haste and get some supper in the meantime.’
Mrs MacDonald desired her daughter to go and fetch
her the keys she had left in the hall. When the
daughter came to the door of the hall she started
back, ran to her mother, and told her she could
not go in for the keys, for the muckle woman was
walking up and down in the hail, and she was so
frightened at seeing her that she could not have
the courage to enter. Mrs MacDonald went herself
to get the keys, and I heard her more than once
declare that, upon looking in at the door, she had
not the courage to go forward. ‘For,’ said she, ‘I
saw such an odd muckle trallup of a carlin, making
lang wide steps through the hail, that I could not
like her appearance at all.’ Mrs MacDonald called
Kingsburgh, and very seriously begged to know what
a lang, odd hussie was this he had brought to the
house, for that she wits so frighted at the sight
of her that she could not go into the hall for her
keys. ‘Did you never see a woman before,’ said he,
‘goodwife? What frights you at seeing a woman?
Pray, make haste, and get us some supper.’
Kingsburgh would not go for the keys, and
therefore his lady behov’d to go for them. When
she entered the hail the Prince happen’d to be
sitting; but immediately he arose, went forward,
and saluted Mrs MacDonald, who, feeling a long
stiff beard, trembled to think that this behoved
to be some distressed nobleman or gentleman in
disguise, for she never dream’d it to be the
Prince, though all along she had been seized with
a dread she could not account for from the moment
she had heard that Kingsburgh had brought company
with him. She very soon made out of the hall with
her keys, never saying one word. Immediately she
importun’d Kingsburgh to tell her who the person
was, for that she was sure by the salute that it
was some distressed gentleman. Kingsburgh smiled
at the mention of the bearded kiss, and said:
‘Why, my dear, it is the Prince. You have the
honour to have him in your house.’ ‘The Prince!’
cried she. ‘O Lord, we are a’ ruin’d and undone
for ever! We will a’ be hang’d now!’ ‘Hout,
goodwife,’ says the honest stout soul, ‘we will
die but ance; and if we are hanged for this, I am
sure we die in a good cause. Pray, make no delay;
go, get some supper. Fetch what is readiest. You
have eggs and butter and cheese in the house; get
them as quickly as possible.’ ‘Eggs and butter and
cheese!’ says Mrs Mac Donald; ‘what a supper is
that for a Prince?’ ‘O goodwife,’ said he, ‘little
do you know how this good Prince has been living
for some time past. These, I can assure you, will
be a feast to him. Besides, it would be unwise to
be dressing a formal supper, because this would
serve to raise the curiosity of the servants, and
they would be making their observations. The less
ceremony and work the better. Make haste, and see
that you come to supper.’ ‘I come to supper!’ says
Mrs MacDonald; ‘how can I come to supper? I know
not how to behave before Majesty.’ ‘You must
come,’ says Kingsburgh, ‘for he will not eat a bit
till he see you at the table; and you will find it
no difficult matter to behave before him, so
obliging and easy is he in his conversation.’
"The Prince ate of our roasted
eggs, some collops, plenty of bread and butter,
etc., and (to use the words of Mrs MacDonald) ‘the
deal a drap did he want in’s weam of twa bottles
of sma beer. God do him good o’t; for, well I wat,
he had my blessing to gae down wi’t.’ After he had
made a plentiful supper, he called for a dram; and
when the bottle of brandy was brought, he said he
would fill the glass for himself, ‘for,’ said he,
‘ I have learn’d in my skulking to take a hearty
dram.’ He filled up a bumper, and drank it off to
the happiness and prosperity of his landlord and
landlady. Then taking a crack’d and broken pipe
out of his poutch, wrapt about with thread, he
asked Kingsburgh if he could furnish him with some
tobacco, for that he had learn’d likewise to smoke
in his wanderings. Kingsburgh took from him the
broken pipe and laid it carefully up with the
brogs, and gave him a new clean pipe and plenty of
tobacco.
"The Prince and Kingsburgh
turn’d very familiar and merry together, and when
the Prince spoke to Kingsburgh, he for the most
part laid his hand upon Kingsburgh’s knee and used
several kind and obliging expressions in his
conversation with the happy landlord. Kingsburgh
remarked what a lucky thing it was that he
happened to be at Mougstot (Sir Alexander
MacDonald’s house), and that it was all a matter
of chance that he was there, for he had no design
of being there that day. And then he asked the
Prince what he would have done if he had not been
at Mougstot. The Prince replied, ‘Why, sir, you
could not avoid being at Mougstot this day, for
Providence ordered you to be there upon my
account.’ Kingsburgh became so merry and jocose
that, putting up his hand to the Prince’s face, he
turned off his head-dress, which was a very odd
clout of a mutch or toy, upon which Mrs MacDonald
hasted out of the room and brought a clean
nightcap for him." [This well-known account is
taken from "Remarks, etc., and Particular Sayings
of some who were concerned in the Prince’s
preservation," Lyon in Mourning, vol. i.,
p. 108 c/ seq. The Lyon in Mourning
is the great source of original information with
regard to the Prince’s wanderings. The story of
his adventures is fully and picturesquely told by
Chambers,—History of the Rebellion,
chapters xxvi., xxvii., and xxviii.; and his
footsteps have been minutely traced by Mr W. B.
Blaikie in his itinerary. The route given
in the text is that contained in the former
editions of this work, with some additions and
corrections, for which the editor is indebted to
Mr Blaikie’s book.]
Next morning Charles left the
house, still in his female attire. After he was
well out of sight of the house, he changed into a
Highland dress with which he had been supplied by
Kingsburgh, he then bade his host farewell, and
proceeded on foot towards Portree, conducted by a
guide. Flora Macdonald on horseback took another
road towards the same destination. At Portree he
was met by Donald Roy Macdonald, who had procured
a boat and rowers to convey him to Raasay. On the
morning of July 1, after bidding farewell to
Flora, he crossed the Sound of Raasay, and landed
in that island. Shortly afterwards Flora was taken
prisoner by the Government troops and suffered a
year’s captivity for the assistance which she
rendered to the Prince. In 1750 she married the
son of Macdonald of Kingsburgh, with whom she
afterwards emigrated to America.
The remainder of Charles’s
wanderings may be briefly summarised.
July 1. At Glam in Raasay. 2nd.
At Nicolson’s Rock near Scorobreck.4th. At Elgol.
6th. Landed in Loch Nevis. 8th. Pursued by the
troops up Loch Nevis. 10th. Arrived at Borradale,
and remained there till joined by Glenaladale on
the 15th. 17th. At Corrybeincabir. 18th. On the
mountains Scoorvuy and Fruighvein. 19th. On the
mountain Mamnyncallum in the Brae of Loch Arkaig.
20th. At Corrienagaull in sight of the enemy’s
camps. 21st. At Corriscorridill, close to two
camps, soldiers in sight often. 22nd. At Glensheil.
23rd. On the hills between Glenmoriston and
Strathglass. 24th. In a cave at Coiraghoth in the
Braes of Glenmoriston with the "Glenmoriston men."
These were a party of eight men who had been
concerned in the insurrection, and had taken
refuge in this cave. The Prince was conducted to
their retreat by Glenaladale, "they knowing
nothing at all of his royal highness, only
suspecting that a young man they were told was in
company might be young Clanranald. . . .
Accordingly his royal highness set out, and by the
time appointed came to the place and meeting with
these few friends, who upon sight knew his royal
highness, having formerly served in his army, they
conducted him to the grotto, where he was
refreshed with such cheer as the exigency of the
time afforded; and making a bed for him, his royal
highness was lulled asleep with the sweet murmurs
of the finest purling stream that could be,
running by his bedside, within the grotto, in
which romantic habitation his royal highness
pass’d three days, at the end of which he was so
well refreshed that he thought himself able to
encounter any hardships.
"Having time in that space to
provide some necessaries and to gather
intelligence about the enemy’s motions, they
removed on the 2nd of August (July
28?) into a
place within two miles of them, called
Coirmheadhain, where they took up their habitation
in a grotto no less romantic than the former.
After taking some refreshment, they placed their
sentries and made up a bed for his royal highness
in a closet shaped out by nature, and seemingly
designed by her for the reception of his royal
highness." (Journal in Captain Alexander
Macdonald’s handwriting, Lyon in Mourning,
vol. i., p. 343.)
August 2. Reached the
Braes of Strathglass. 5th. At Glencannich. 6th and
7th. At Ben Acharain 9th. At Fasnakyle. 12th. On
the Braes of Glenmoriston. 14th. In Glengarry.
15th. On the Brae of Achnasualioth to 21st. At
Loch Arkaig. 22nd. At Torvault. About this time
was nearly taken prisoner by a party under Grant
of Knockando, but escaped to the top of
Mullintagart. 28th. Set out for Badenoch to meet
Lochiel. 29th. Arrived at Corrineuir. 30th. Came
to Mellaneuir, where he met Lochiel, and two days
afterwards was joined by Cluny.
September 2nd. Went to
Uiskchilra. 5th. Went to "Cluny’s Cage" in the
face of the mountain Letternilichk, a spur of Ben
Alder. ("The day after Clunie arrived he thought
it time to remove from Mellaneuir, and took the
Prince about two miles farther into Benalder, to a
little sheil called Uiskchibra, where the hut or
bothie was superlatively bad and smoky;
yet His Royal Highness put up with
everything. Here he remained for two or three
nights, and then removed to a very romantic
habitation, made for him by Clunie, two miles
further into Benalder, called the Cage;
which was a great curiosity and can
scarcely be described to perfection. It was
situated in the face of a very rough, high and
rocky mountain called Letternilichk, still a part
of Benalder, full of great stones and crevices,
and some scattered wood interspersed. The
habitation called the Cage, in the face of that
mountain, was within a small thick bush of wood.
There were first some rows of trees laid down in
order to level a floor for the habitation; and as
the place was steep, this raised the lower side to
an equal height with the other; and these trees in
the way of joists or planks were levelled with
earth and gravel. There were betwixt the trees,
growing naturally on their own roots, some stakes
fixed in the earth, which with the trees were
interwoven with ropes, made of heath and birch
twigs, up to the top of the Cage, it being of a
round or rather oval shape; and the whole thatched
and covered over with fog. This whole fabric hung,
as it were, by a large tree, which reclined from
the one end all along the roof to the other, and
which gave it the name of the Cage, and by chance
there happened to be two stones at a small
distance from one another, in the side next the
precipice, resembling the pillars of a chimney,
where the fire was placed. The smoke had its vent
out here, all along the face of the rock, which
was so much of the same colour, that one could
discover no difference in the clearest day. The
Cage was no larger than to contain six or seven
persons; four of whom were frequently employed
playing at cards, one idle looking on, one baking,
and another firing bread and cooking. Here His
Royal Highness remained till the 13th of
September."— Cluny’s Account of Lochiel and
himself after the Battle of Culloden. Home,
Appendix No. 46). September 13. Heard of the
arrival of two French ships in Lochnanuagh and set
out for the coast. 14th. Reached Corvoy. 15th.
Before daylight, got through Glenroy. 10th.
Reached Achnacarie. 17th. Reached Glencamger.
19th. Reached Borradale where the ships were, and
went on board. 20th. Early in the morning sailed
for France.
Charles landed at Roscoff near
Morlaix in Brittany on September 29. About his
subsequent career perhaps the less said the
better. On his father’s death in 1766 he succeeded
to the phantom crown. He died at Rome in January
1788, a broken and disappointed old man; and with
him perished the last hope of the House of Stuart.
His brother Henry, Cardinal York, lived till 1807.
But Jacobitism as a political cause may be said to
have definitely come to an end on April 24, 1788,
when, at a meeting of nonjuring bishops at
Aberdeen, it was resolved that King George III.
should be prayed for in the services of the
church.
Indeed, the cause had all along
been condemned to failure. A counter revolution
might have taken place at the death of Queen Anne,
but scarcely later. The true issue was not between
one dynasty and another, it was between the old
claim of Divine right and the Parliamentary
settlement of the Crown. Charles’s real enemy was
the Bill of Rights. The ultimate issue of such a
contest could not be doubtful. To-day the old
doctrine is as obsolete as the Ptolemaic
astronomy. How obsolete it is may be curiously
illustrated. The heir of line of the House of
Stuart, who, by the strict theory of Divine right
is now the rightful sovereign of these realms, is
the Bavarian princess who represents Princess
Henrietta, Duchess of Orleans, youngest daughter
of Charles I.
[The descent is as follows
—Charles I. ; Princess Henrietta (1644-70), who
married Philip, Duke of Orleans, brother of Louis
XIV.; her daughter, Anne Mary (1669-1728), who
married Victor Amadeus, Duke of Savoy and King of
Sardinia; her son, Charles Emmanuel III.
(1701-73), King of Sardinia ; his son, Victor
Amadeus III. (1726-96), King of Sardinia; his son,
Victor Emmanuel I. (1759-1824), King of Sardinia;
his daughter, Mary (1792-1840), who married
Francis, Duke of Modena; her son, Ferdinand
(1821-49), who married Elizabeth of Austria; his
daughter, Maria Teresa (b. 1849), who in
1868 married Prince Louis of Bavaria. Her son,
Prince Rupert, was born at Munich, May 18, 1869.]
Probably not one British
subject in a thousand has so much as heard her
name.
Political causes have their
day, but loyalty, courage, and self-sacrifice do
not go out of fashion. So long as history is read
the White Cockade will remain the symbol of heroic
daring and heroic suffering, and men of all
parties will think with sympathy and with pride of
those who gave up all for the lost cause. Lord
Macaulay, the most uncompromising of Whigs, has
nobly expressed this feeling. The present sketch
may fitly be ended by his Epitaph on a Jacobile:-
To my
true king I offered
free from stain
Courage and faith; vain faith, and courage
vain.
For him I threw lands, honours, wealth away,
And one dear hope, that was more prized than
they.
For him I languished in a foreign clime,
Grey-haired with sorrow in my manhood’s
prime;
Heard on Lavernia Scargill’s whispering
trees,
And pined by Arno for my
lovelier Tees;
Beheld each night my home
in
fevered sleep,
Each morning started from the dream to
weep;
Till God, who saw me tried too sorely, gave
The resting-place I asked—an early grave.
Oh thou, whom chance leads to this nameless
stone,
From that proud country which was once mine
own,
By those white cliffs I never more must see,
By that dear language which I spake like
thee,
Forget all feuds, and shed one English tear
O’er English dust. A broken heart lies here.
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