Chương Chương 67 · A POSTSCRIPT WHICH SHOULD HAVE BEEN A PREFACE

. A POSTSCRIPT WHICH SHOULD HAVE BEEN A PREFACE

Our journey is now finished, gentle reader; and if your patience has

accompanied me through these sheets, the contract is, on your part,

strictly fulfilled. Yet, like the driver who has received his full

hire, I still linger near you, and make, with becoming diffidence, a

trifling additional claim upon your bounty and good nature. You are as

free, however, to shut the volume of the one petitioner as to close

your door in the face of the other.

This should have been a prefatory chapter, but for two reasons: First,

that most novel readers, as my own conscience reminds me, are apt to be

guilty of the sin of omission respecting that same matter of prefaces;

Secondly, that it is a general custom with that class of students to

begin with the last chapter of a work; so that, after all, these

remarks, being introduced last in order, have still the best chance to

be read in their proper place.

There is no European nation which, within the course of half a century

or little more, has undergone so complete a change as this kingdom of

Scotland. The effects of the insurrection of 1745,—the destruction of

the patriarchal power of the Highland chiefs,—the abolition of the

heritable jurisdictions of the Lowland nobility and barons,—the total

eradication of the Jacobite party, which, averse to intermingle with

the English, or adopt their customs, long continued to pride themselves

upon maintaining ancient Scottish manners and customs,—commenced this

innovation. The gradual influx of wealth and extension of commerce have

since united to render the present people of Scotland a class of beings

as different from their grandfathers as the existing English are from

those of Queen Elizabeth’s time. The political and economical effects

of these changes have been traced by Lord Selkirk with great precision

and accuracy. But the change, though steadily and rapidly progressive,

has nevertheless been gradual; and, like those who drift down the

stream of a deep and smooth river, we are not aware of the progress we

have made until we fix our eye on the now distant point from which we

have been drifted. Such of the present generation as can recollect the

last twenty or twenty-five years of the eighteenth century will be

fully sensible of the truth of this statement; especially if their

acquaintance and connections lay among those who in my younger time

were facetiously called “folks of the old leaven,” who still cherished

a lingering, though hopeless, attachment to the house of Stuart. This

race has now almost entirely vanished from the land, and with it,

doubtless, much absurd political prejudice; but also many living

examples of singular and disinterested attachment to the principles of

loyalty which they received from their fathers, and of old Scottish

faith, hospitality, worth, and honour.

It was my accidental lot, though not born a Highlander (which may be an

apology for much bad Gaelic), to reside during my childhood and youth

among persons of the above description; and now, for the purpose of

preserving some idea of the ancient manners of which I have witnessed

the almost total extinction, I have embodied in imaginary scenes, and

ascribed to fictitious characters, a part of the incidents which I then

received from those who were actors in them. Indeed, the most romantic

parts of this narrative are precisely those which have a foundation in

fact. The exchange of mutual protection between a Highland gentleman

and an officer of rank in the king’s service, together with the

spirited manner in which the latter asserted his right to return the

favour he had received, is literally true. The accident by a musket

shot, and the heroic reply imputed to Flora, relate to a lady of rank

not long deceased. And scarce a gentleman who was “in hiding” after the

battle of Culloden but could tell a tale of strange concealments and of

wild and hair’s-breadth ’scapes as extraordinary as any which I have

ascribed to my heroes. Of this, the escape of Charles Edward himself,

as the most prominent, is the most striking example. The accounts of

the battle of Preston and skirmish at Clifton are taken from the

narrative of intelligent eye-witnesses, and corrected from the “History

of the Rebellion” by the late venerable author of “Douglas.” The

Lowland Scottish gentlemen and the subordinate characters are not given

as individual portraits, but are drawn from the general habits of the

period, of which I have witnessed some remnants in my younger days, and

partly gathered from tradition.

It has been my object to describe these persons, not by a caricatured

and exaggerated use of the national dialect, but by their habits,

manners, and feelings, so as in some distant degree to emulate the

admirable Irish portraits drawn by Miss Edgeworth, so different from

the “Teagues” and “dear joys” who so long, with the most perfect family

resemblance to each other, occupied the drama and the novel.

I feel no confidence, however, in the manner in which I have executed

my purpose. Indeed, so little was I satisfied with my production, that

I laid it aside in an unfinished state, and only found it again by mere

accident among other waste papers in an old cabinet, the drawers of

which I was rummaging in order to accommodate a friend with some

fishing-tackle, after it had been mislaid for several years.

Two works upon similar subjects, by female authors whose genius is

highly creditable to their country, have appeared in the interval; I

mean Mrs. Hamilton’s “Glenburnie” and the late account of “Highland

Superstitions.” But the first is confined to the rural habits of

Scotland, of which it has given a picture with striking and impressive

fidelity; and the traditional records of the respectable and ingenious

Mrs. Grant of Laggan are of a nature distinct from the fictitious

narrative which I have here attempted.

I would willingly persuade myself that the preceding work will not be

found altogether uninteresting. To elder persons it will recall scenes

and characters familiar to their youth; and to the rising generation

the tale may present some idea of the manners of their forefathers.

Yet I heartily wish that the task of tracing the evanescent manners of

his own country had employed the pen of the only man in Scotland who

could have done it justice—of him so eminently distinguished in elegant

literature, and whose sketches of Colonel Caustic and Umphraville are

perfectly blended with the finer traits of national character. I should

in that case have had more pleasure as a reader than I shall ever feel

in the pride of a successful author, should these sheets confer upon me

that envied distinction. And, as I have inverted the usual arrangement,

placing these remarks at the end of the work to which they refer, I

will venture on a second violation of form, by closing the whole with a

Dedication—

THESE VOLUMES

BEING RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED

TO

OUR SCOTTISH ADDISON,

HENRY MACKENZIE,

BY

AN UNKNOWN ADMIRER

OF

HIS GENIUS.

[Illustration]

NOTES—Volume I.

NOTE 1

Long the oracle of the country gentlemen of the high Tory party. The

ancient News-Letter was written in manuscript and copied by clerks, who

addressed the copies to the subscribers. The politician by whom they

were compiled picked up his intelligence at coffee-houses, and often

pleaded for an additional gratuity in consideration of the extra

expense attached to frequenting such places of fashionable resort.

NOTE 2

There is a family legend to this purpose, belonging to the knightly

family of Bradshaigh, the proprietors of Haigh Hall, in Lancashire,

where, I have been told, the event is recorded on a painted glass

window. The German ballad of the Noble Moringer turns upon a similar

topic. But undoubtedly many such incidents may have taken place, where,

the distance being great and the intercourse infrequent, false reports

concerning the fate of the absent Crusaders must have been commonly

circulated, and sometimes perhaps rather hastily credited at home.

NOTE 3

The attachment to this classic was, it is said, actually displayed in

the manner mentioned in the text by an unfortunate Jacobite in that

unhappy period. He escaped from the jail in which he was confined for a

hasty trial and certain condemnation, and was retaken as he hovered

around the place in which he had been imprisoned, for which he could

give no better reason than the hope of recovering his favourite Titus

Livius. I am sorry to add that the simplicity of such a character was

found to form no apology for his guilt as a rebel, and that he was

condemned and executed.

NOTE 4

Nicholas Amhurst, a noted political writer, who conducted for many

years a paper called the Craftsman, under the assumed name of Caleb

D’Anvers. He was devoted to the Tory interest, and seconded with much

ability the attacks of Pulteney on Sir Robert Walpole. He died in 1742,

neglected by his great patrons and in the most miserable circumstances.

“Amhurst survived the downfall of Walpole’s power, and had reason to

expect a reward for his labours. If we excuse Bolingbroke, who had only

saved the shipwreck of his fortunes, we shall be at a loss to justify

Pulteney, who could with ease have given this man a considerable

income. The utmost of his generosity to Amhurst that I ever heard of

was a hogshead of claret! He died, it is supposed, of a broken heart;

and was buried at the charge of his honest printer, Richard

Francklin” (_Lord Chesterfield’s Characters Reviewed_, p. 42).

NOTE 5

I have now given in the text the full name of this gallant and

excellent man, and proceed to copy the account of his remarkable

conversion, as related by Doctor Doddridge.

“This memorable event,” says the pious writer, “happened towards the

middle of July 1719. The major had spent the evening (and, if I mistake

not, it was the Sabbath) in some gay company, and had an unhappy

assignation with a married woman, whom he was to attend exactly at

twelve. The company broke up about eleven, and, not judging it

convenient to anticipate the time appointed, he went into his chamber

to kill the tedious hour, perhaps with some amusing book, or some other

way. But it very accidentally happened that he took up a religious

book, which his good mother or aunt had, without his knowledge, slipped

into his portmanteau. It was called, if I remember the title exactly,

The Christian Soldier, or Heaven taken by Storm, and it was written by

Mr. Thomas Watson. Guessing by the title of it that he would find some

phrases of his own profession spiritualised in a manner which he

thought might afford him some diversion, he resolved to dip into it,

but he took no serious notice of anything it had in it; and yet, while

this book was in his hand, an impression was made upon his mind

(perhaps God only knows how) which drew after it a train of the most

important and happy consequences. He thought he saw an unusual blaze of

light fall upon the book which he was reading, which he at first

imagined might happen by some accident in the candle, but, lifting up

his eyes, he apprehended to his extreme amazement that there was before

him, as it were suspended in the air, a visible representation of the

Lord Jesus Christ upon the cross, surrounded on all sides with a glory;

and was impressed as if a voice, or something equivalent to a voice,

had come to him, to this effect (for he was not confident as to the

words), “Oh, sinner! did I suffer this for thee, and are these thy

returns?” Struck with so amazing a phenomenon as this, there remained

hardly any life in him, so that he sunk down in the arm-chair in which

he sat, and continued, he knew not how long, insensible.”

“With regard to this vision,” says the ingenious Dr. Hibbert, “the

appearance of our Saviour on the cross, and the awful words repeated,

can be considered in no other light than as so many recollected images

of the mind, which probably had their origin in the language of some

urgent appeal to repentance that the colonel might have casually read

or heard delivered. From what cause, however, such ideas were rendered

as vivid as actual impressions, we have no information to be depended

upon. This vision was certainly attended with one of the most important

of consequences connected with the Christian dispensation—the

conversion of a sinner. And hence no single narrative has, perhaps,

done more to confirm the superstitious opinion that apparitions of this

awful kind cannot arise without a divine fiat.” Doctor Hibbert adds in

a note—“A short time before the vision, Colonel Gardiner had received a

severe fall from his horse. Did the brain receive some slight degree of

injury from the accident, so as to predispose him to this spiritual

illusion?” (_Hibbert’s Philosophy of Apparitions_, Edinburgh, 1824, p.

190.)

NOTE 6

The courtesy of an invitation to partake a traveller’s meal, or at

least that of being invited to share whatever liquor the guest called

for, was expected by certain old landlords in Scotland even in the

youth of the author. In requital mine host was always furnished with

the news of the country, and was probably a little of a humorist to

boot. The devolution of the whole actual business and drudgery of the

inn upon the poor gudewife was very common among the Scottish

Bonifaces. There was in ancient times, in the city of Edinburgh, a

gentleman of good family who condescended, in order to gain a

livelihood, to become the nominal keeper of a coffee-house, one of the

first places of the kind which had been opened in the Scottish

metropolis. As usual, it was entirely managed by the careful and

industrious Mrs. B—; while her husband amused himself with field

sports, without troubling his head about the matter. Once upon a time,

the premises having taken fire, the husband was met walking up the High

Street loaded with his guns and fishing-rods, and replied calmly to

someone who inquired after his wife, “that the poor woman was trying to

save a parcel of crockery and some trumpery books”; the last being

those which served her to conduct the business of the house.

There were many elderly gentlemen in the author’s younger days who

still held it part of the amusement of a journey “to parley with mine

host,” who often resembled, in his quaint humour, mine Host of the

Garter in the Merry Wives of Windsor; or Blague of the George in the

Merry Devil of Edmonton. Sometimes the landlady took her share of

entertaining the company. In either case the omitting to pay them due

attention gave displeasure, and perhaps brought down a smart jest, as

on the following occasion:

A jolly dame who, not “Sixty Years Since,” kept the principal

caravansary at Greenlaw, in Berwickshire, had the honour to receive

under her roof a very worthy clergyman, with three sons of the same

profession, each having a cure of souls; be it said in passing, none of

the reverend party were reckoned powerful in the pulpit. After dinner

was over, the worthy senior, in the pride of his heart, asked Mrs.

Buchan whether she ever had had such a party in her house before. “Here

sit I,” he said, “a placed minister of the Kirk of Scotland, and here

sit my three sons, each a placed minister of the same kirk. Confess,

Luckie Buchan, you never had such a party in your house before.” The

question was not premised by any invitation to sit down and take a

glass of wine or the like, so Mrs. B. answered drily, “Indeed, sir, I

cannot just say that ever I had such a party in my house before, except

once in the forty-five, when I had a Highland piper here, with his

three sons, all Highland pipers; _and deil a spring they could play

amang them_.”

NOTE 7

There is no particular mansion described under the name of

Tully-Veolan; but the peculiarities of the description occur in various

old Scottish seats. The House of Warrender upon Bruntsfield Links and

that of Old Ravelston, belonging, the former to Sir George Warrender,

the latter to Sir Alexander Keith, have both contributed several hints

to the description in the text. The House of Dean, near Edinburgh, has

also some points of resemblance with Tully-Veolan. The author has,

however, been informed that the House of Grandtully resembles that of

the Baron of Bradwardine still more than any of the above.

NOTE 8

I am ignorant how long the ancient and established custom of keeping

fools has been disused in England. Swift writes an epitaph on the Earl

of Suffolk’s fool,—

Whose name was Dickie Pearce

In Scotland, the custom subsisted till late in the last century; at

Glamis Castle is preserved the dress of one of the jesters, very

handsome, and ornamented with many bells. It is not above thirty years

since such a character stood by the sideboard of a nobleman of the

first rank in Scotland, and occasionally mixed in the conversation,

till he carried the joke rather too far, in making proposals to one of

the young ladies of the family, and publishing the bans betwixt her and

himself in the public church.

NOTE 9

After the Revolution of 1688, and on some occasions when the spirit of

the Presbyterians had been unusually animated against their opponents,

the Episcopal clergymen, who were chiefly nonjurors, were exposed to be

mobbed, as we should now say, or rabbled, as the phrase then went, to

expiate their political heresies. But notwithstanding that the

Presbyterians had the persecution in Charles II. and his brother’s time

to exasperate them, there was little mischief done beyond the kind of

petty violence mentioned in the text.

NOTE 10

I may here mention that the fashion of compotation described in the

text was still occasionally practised in Scotland in the author’s

youth. A company, after having taken leave of their host, often went to

finish the evening at the clachan or village, in “womb of tavern.”

Their entertainer always accompanied them to take the stirrup-cup,

which often occasioned a long and late revel.

The _Poculum Potatorium_ of the valiant Baron, his blessed Bear, has a

prototype at the fine old Castle of Glamis, so rich in memorials of

ancient times; it is a massive beaker of silver, double gilt, moulded

into the shape of a lion, and holding about an English pint of wine.

The form alludes to the family name of Strathmore, which is Lyon, and,

when exhibited, the cup must necessarily be emptied to the Earl’s

health. The author ought perhaps to be ashamed of recording that he has

had the honour of swallowing the contents of the Lion; and the

recollection of the feat served to suggest the story of the Bear of

Bradwardine. In the family of Scott of Thirlestane (not Thirlestane in

the Forest, but the place of the same name in Roxburghshire) was long

preserved a cup of the same kind, in the form of a jack-boot. Each

guest was obliged to empty this at his departure. If the guest’s name

was Scott, the necessity was doubly imperative.

When the landlord of an inn presented his guests with _deoch an

doruis_, that is, the drink at the door, or the stirrup-cup, the

draught was not charged in the reckoning. On this point a learned

bailie of the town of Forfar pronounced a very sound judgment.

A., an ale-wife in Forfar, had brewed her “peck of malt” and set the

liquor out of doors to cool; the cow of B., a neighbour of A., chanced

to come by, and seeing the good beverage, was allured to taste it, and

finally to drink it up. When A. came to take in her liquor, she found

her tub empty, and from the cow’s staggering and staring, so as to

betray her intemperance, she easily divined the mode in which her

“browst” had disappeared. To take vengeance on Crummie’s ribs with a

stick was her first effort. The roaring of the cow brought B., her

master, who remonstrated with his angry neighbour, and received in

reply a demand for the value of the ale which Crummie had drunk up. B.

refused payment, and was conveyed before C., the bailie, or sitting

magistrate. He heard the case patiently; and then demanded of the

plaintiff A. whether the cow had sat down to her potation or taken it

standing. The plaintiff answered, she had not seen the deed committed,

but she supposed the cow drank the ale while standing on her feet,

adding, that had she been near she would have made her use them to some

purpose. The bailie, on this admission, solemnly adjudged the cow’s

drink to be _deoch an doruis_, a stirrup-cup, for which no charge could

be made without violating the ancient hospitality of Scotland.

NOTE 11

The story last told was said to have happened in the south of Scotland;

but _cedant arma togæ_ and let the gown have its dues. It was an old

clergyman, who had wisdom and firmness enough to resist the panic which

seized his brethren, who was the means of rescuing a poor insane

creature from the cruel fate which would otherwise have overtaken her.

The accounts of the trials for witchcraft form one of the most

deplorable chapters in Scottish story.

NOTE 12

Although canting heraldry is generally reprobated, it seems

nevertheless to have been adopted in the arms and mottos of many

honourable families. Thus the motto of the Vernons, Ver non semper

viret, is a perfect pun, and so is that of the Onslows, Festina lente.

The Periissem ni per-iissem of the Anstruthers is liable to a similar

objection. One of that ancient race, finding that an antagonist, with

whom he had fixed a friendly meeting, was determined to take the

opportunity of assassinating him, prevented the hazard by dashing out

his brains with a battle-axe. Two sturdy arms, brandishing such a

weapon, form the usual crest of the family, with the above motto,

Periissem ni per-iissem—I had died, unless I had gone through with it.

NOTE 13

Mac-Donald of Barrisdale, one of the very last Highland gentlemen who

carried on the plundering system to any great extent, was a scholar and

a well-bred gentleman. He engraved on his broadswords the well-known

lines—

Hæ tibi erunt artes pacisque imponere morem,

Parcere subjectis, et debellare superbos.

Indeed, the levying of black-mail was, before 1745, practised by

several chiefs of very high rank, who, in doing so, contended that they

were lending the laws the assistance of their arms and swords, and

affording a protection which could not be obtained from the magistracy

in the disturbed state of the country. The author has seen a Memoir of

Mac-Pherson of Cluny, chief of that ancient clan, from which it appears

that he levied protection-money to a very large amount, which was

willingly paid even by some of his most powerful neighbours. A

gentleman of this clan, hearing a clergyman hold forth to his

congregation on the crime of theft, interrupted the preacher to assure

him, he might leave the enforcement of such doctrines to Cluny

Mac-Pherson, whose broadsword would put a stop to theft sooner than all

the sermons of all the ministers of the Synod.

NOTE 14

The Town-guard of Edinburgh were, till a late period, armed with this

weapon when on their police-duty. There was a hook at the back of the

axe, which the ancient Highlanders used to assist them to climb over

walls, fixing the hook upon it and raising themselves by the handle.

The axe, which was also much used by the natives of Ireland, is

supposed to have been introduced into both countries from Scandinavia.

NOTE 15

An adventure very similar to what is here stated actually befell the

late Mr. Abercromby of Tullibody, grandfather of the present Lord

Abercromby, and father of the celebrated Sir Ralph. When this

gentleman, who lived to a very advanced period of life, first settled

in Stirlingshire, his cattle were repeatedly driven off by the

celebrated Rob Roy, or some of his gang; and at length he was obliged,

after obtaining a proper safe-conduct, to make the cateran such a visit

as that of Waverley to Bean Lean in the text. Rob received him with

much courtesy, and made many apologies for the accident, which must

have happened, he said, through some mistake. Mr. Abercromby was

regaled with collops from two of his own cattle, which were hung up by

the heels in the cavern, and was dismissed in perfect safety, after

having agreed to pay in future a small sum of black-mail, in

consideration of which Rob Roy not only undertook to forbear his herds

in future, but to replace any that should be stolen from him by other

freebooters. Mr. Abercromby said Rob Roy affected to consider him as a

friend to the Jacobite interest and a sincere enemy to the Union.

Neither of these circumstances were true; but the laird thought it

quite unnecessary to undeceive his Highland host at the risk of

bringing on a political dispute in such a situation. This anecdote I

received many years since (about 1792) from the mouth of the venerable

gentleman who was concerned in it.

NOTE 16

This celebrated gibbet was, in the memory of the last generation, still

standing at the western end of the town of Crieff, in Perthshire. Why

it was called the kind gallows we are unable to inform the reader with

certainty; but it is alleged that the Highlanders used to touch their

bonnets as they passed a place which had been fatal to many of their

countrymen, with the ejaculation “God bless her nain sell, and the Teil

tamn you!” It may therefore have been called kind, as being a sort of

native or kindred place of doom to those who suffered there, as in

fulfilment of a natural destiny.

NOTE 17

The story of the bridegroom carried off by caterans on his bridal-day

is taken from one which was told to the author by the late Laird of

Mac-Nab many years since. To carry off persons from the Lowlands, and

to put them to ransom, was a common practice with the wild Highlanders,

as it is said to be at the present day with the banditti in the south

of Italy. Upon the occasion alluded to, a party of caterans carried off

the bridegroom and secreted him in some cave near the mountain of

Schiehallion. The young man caught the small-pox before his ransom

could be agreed on; and whether it was the fine cool air of the place,

or the want of medical attendance, Mac-Nab did not pretend to be

positive; but so it was, that the prisoner recovered, his ransom was

paid, and he was restored to his friends and bride, but always

considered the Highland robbers as having saved his life by their

treatment of his malady.

NOTE 18

This happened on many occasions. Indeed, it was not till after the

total destruction of the clan influence, after 1745, that purchasers

could be found who offered a fair price for the estates forfeited in

1715, which were then brought to sale by the creditors of the York

Buildings Company, who had purchased the whole, or greater part, from

government at a very small price. Even so late as the period first

mentioned, the prejudices of the public in favour of the heirs of the

forfeited families threw various impediments in the way of intending

purchasers of such property.

NOTE 19

This sort of political game ascribed to Mac-Ivor was in reality played

by several Highland chiefs, the celebrated Lord Lovat in particular,

who used that kind of finesse to the uttermost. The Laird of Mac—— was

also captain of an independent company, but valued the sweets of

present pay too well to incur the risk of losing them in the Jacobite

cause. His martial consort raised his clan and headed it in 1745. But

the chief himself would have nothing to do with king-making, declaring

himself for that monarch, and no other, who gave the Laird of Mac ——

“half-a-guinea the day and half-a-guinea the morn.”

NOTE 20

In explanation of the military exercise observed at the Castle of

Glennaquoich, the author begs to remark that the Highlanders were not

only well practised in the use of the broadsword, firelock, and most of

the manly sports and trials of strength common throughout Scotland, but

also used a peculiar sort of drill, suited to their own dress and mode

of warfare. There were, for instance, different modes of disposing the

plaid, one when on a peaceful journey, another when danger was

apprehended; one way of enveloping themselves in it when expecting

undisturbed repose, and another which enabled them to start up with

sword and pistol in hand on the slightest alarm.

Previous to 1720 or thereabouts, the belted plaid was universally worn,

in which the portion which surrounded the middle of the wearer and that

which was flung around his shoulders were all of the same piece of

tartan. In a desperate onset all was thrown away, and the clan charged

bare beneath the doublet, save for an artificial arrangement of the

shirt, which, like that of the Irish, was always ample, and for the

sporran-mollach, or goat’s-skin purse.

The manner of handling the pistol and dirk was also part of the

Highland manual exercise, which the author has seen gone through by men

who had learned it in their youth.

NOTE 21

Pork or swine’s flesh, in any shape, was, till of late years, much

abominated by the Scotch, nor is it yet a favourite food amongst them.

King Jamie carried this prejudice to England, and is known to have

abhorred pork almost as much as he did tobacco. Ben Jonson has recorded

this peculiarity, where the gipsy in a masque, examining the king’s

hand, says—

You should, by this line,

Love a horse and a hound, but no part of a swine.

_The Gipsies Metamorphosed_.

James’s own proposed banquet for the Devil was a loin of pork and a

poll of ling, with a pipe of tobacco for digestion.

NOTE 22

In the number of persons of all ranks who assembled at the same table,

though by no means to discuss the same fare, the Highland chiefs only

retained a custom which had been formerly universally observed

throughout Scotland. “I myself,” says the traveller, Fynes Morrison, in

the end of Queen Elizabeth’s reign, the scene being the Lowlands of

Scotland, “was at a knight’s house, who had many servants to attend

him, that brought in his meat with their heads covered with blue caps,

the table being more than half furnished with great platters of

porridge, each having a little piece of sodden meat. And when the table

was served, the servants did sit down with us; but the upper mess,

instead of porridge, had a pullet, with some prunes in the broth”

(“Travels,” p. 155).

Till within this last century the farmers, even of a respectable

condition, dined with their work-people. The difference betwixt those

of high degree was ascertained by the place of the party above or below

the salt, or sometimes by a line drawn with chalk on the dining-table.

Lord Lovat, who knew well how to feed the vanity and restrain the

appetites of his clansmen, allowed each sturdy Fraser who had the

slightest pretensions to be a Duinhewassel the full honour of the

sitting, but at the same time took care that his young kinsmen did not

acquire at his table any taste for outlandish luxuries. His lordship

was always ready with some honourable apology why foreign wines and

French brandy, delicacies which he conceived might sap the hardy habits

of his cousins, should not circulate past an assigned point on the

table.

NOTE 23

In the Irish ballads relating to Fion (the Fingal of Mac-Pherson) there

occurs, as in the primitive poetry of most nations, a cycle of heroes,

each of whom has some distinguishing attribute; upon these qualities,

and the adventures of those possessing them, many proverbs are formed,

which are still current in the Highlands. Among other characters, Conan

is distinguished as in some respects a kind of Thersites, but brave and

daring even to rashness. He had made a vow that he would never take a

blow without returning it; and having, like other heroes of antiquity,

descended to the infernal regions, he received a cuff from the

Arch-fiend who presided there, which he instantly returned, using the

expression in the text. Sometimes the proverb is worded thus—“Claw for

claw, and the devil take the shortest nails, as Conan said to the

devil.”

NOTE 24

The description of the waterfall mentioned in this chapter is taken

from that of Ledeard, at the farm so called, on the northern side of

Lochard, and near the head of the lake, four or five miles from

Aberfoyle. It is upon a small scale, but otherwise one of the most

exquisite cascades it is possible to behold. The appearance of Flora

with the harp, as described, has been justly censured as too theatrical

and affected for the lady-like simplicity of her character. But

something may be allowed to her French education, in which point and

striking effect always make a considerable object.

NOTE 25

The author has been sometimes accused of confounding fiction with

reality. He therefore thinks it necessary to state that the

circumstance of the hunting described in the text as preparatory to the

insurrection of 1745 is, so far as he knows, entirely imaginary. But it

is well known such a great hunting was held in the Forest of Brae-Mar,

under the auspices of the Earl of Mar, as preparatory to the Rebellion

of 1715; and most of the Highland chieftains who afterwards engaged in

that civil commotion were present on this occasion.

GLOSSARY—Volume I.

A’, all.

ABOON, abune, above.

ABY, abye, endure, suffer.

ACCOLADE, the salutation marking the bestowal of knighthood.

AIN, own.

ALANE, alone.

AN, if.

ANE, one.

ARRAY, annoy, trouble.

AULD, old.

AWEEL, well.

AYE, always.

BAILIE, a city magistrate in Scotland.

BAN, curse.

BAWTY, sly, cunning.

BAXTER, a baker.

BEES, in the, stupefied, bewildered.

BELIVE, belyve, by and by.

BEN, in, inside.

BENT, an open field.

BHAIRD, a bard.

BLACK-FISHING, fishing by torchlight poaching.

BLINKED, glanced.

BLUDE, braid, blood.

BLYTHE, gay, glad.

BODLE, a copper coin worth a third of an English penny.

BOLE, a bowl.

BOOT-KETCH, a boot-jack.

BRAE, the side of a hill.

BRISSEL-COCK, a turkey cock.

BREEKS, breeches.

BROGUES, Highland shoes.

BROKEN MEN, outlaws.

BROUGHT FAR BEN, held in special favor

BROWST, a brewing.

BRUIK, enjoy.

BUCKIE, a perverse or refractory person.

BULLSEGG, a gelded bull.

BURD, bird, a term of familiarity.

BURN, a brook.

BUSKING, dress, decoration.

BUTTOCK-MAIL, a fine for fornication.

BYDAND, awaiting.

CAILLIACHS, old women on whom devolved the duty of lamenting for the

dead, which the Irish call keening.

CALLANT, a young lad, a fine fellow.

CANNY, prudent, skillful, lucky.

CANTER, a canting, whining beggar.

CANTRIP, a trick.

CARLE, a churl, an old man.

CATERAN, a Highland irregular soldier, a freebooter.

CHAP, a customer.

CLACHAN, a hamlet.

CLAW FAVOUR, curry favour.

CLAYMORE, a broad sword.

CLEEK, a hook.

CLEIK the cunzie, steal the silver.

COB, beat.

COBLE, a small fishing boat.

COGS, wooden vessels.

COGUE, a round wooden vessel.

CONCUSSED, violently shaken, disturbed, forced.

CORONACH, a dirge.

CORRIE, a mountain hollow.

COVE, a cave.

CRAME, a booth, a merchant’s shop.

CREAGH, an incursion for plunder, termed on the Borders a raid.

CROUSE, bold, courageous.

CRUMMY, a cow with crooked horns.

CUITTLE, tickle.

CURRAGH, a Highland boat.

DAFT, mad, foolish.

DEBINDED, bound down.

DECREET, an order of decree.

DEOCH AN DORUIS, the stirrup-cup or parting drink.

DERN, concealed, secret.

DINMONTS, wethers in the second year.

DOER, an agent, a manager.

DOON, doun, down.

DOVERING, dozing.

DUINHÉ-WASSEL, dunniewassal, a Highland gentleman, usually the cadet of

a family of rank.

EANARUICH, the regalia presented by Rob Roy to the Laird of Tullibody.

ENEUGH, eneuch, enough.

ERGASTULO, in a penitentiary.

EXEEMED, exempt.

FACTORY, stewardship.

FEAL AND DIVOT, turf and thatch.

FECK, a quantity.

FEIFTEEN, the Jacobite rebellion of 1715.

FENDY, good at making a shift.

FIRE-RAISING, setting an incendiary fire.

FLEMIT, frightened,

FRAE, from.

FU, full.

FULE, fool.

GABERLUNZIE, a kind of professional beggar.

GANE, gone.

GANG, go.

GAR, make.

GATE, gait, way.

GAUN, going.

GAY, gey, very.

GEAR, goods, property.

GILLFLIRT, a flirty girl.

GILLIE, a servant, an attendant.

GILLIE-WET-FOOT, a barefooted Highland lad.

GIMMER, a ewe from one to two years old.

GLISKED, glimpsed.

GRIPPLE, rapacious, niggardly.

GULPIN, a simpleton.

HA’, hall.

HAG, a portion of copse marked off for cutting.

HAIL, whole.

HALLAN, a partition, a screen.

HAME, home.

HANTLE, a great deal.

HARST, harvest.

HERSHIPS, plunder.

HILDING, a coward.

HIRSTS, knolls.

HORNING, charge of, a summons to pay a debt, on pain of being

pronounced a rebel, to the sound of a horn.

HOWE, a hollow.

HOULERYING AND POULERYING, hustling and pulling.

HURLEY-HOUSE, a brokendown manor house.

ILK, same; of that ilk, of the same name or place.

ILKA, each, every.

IN THE BEES, stupefied.

INTROMIT, meddle with.

KEN, know.

KITTLE, tickle, ticklish.

KNOBBLER, a male deer in its second year.

KYLOE, a small Highland cow.

LAIRD, squire, lord of the manor.

LANG-LEGGIT, long-legged.

LAWING, a tavern reckoning.

LEE LAND, pasture land.

LIE, a word used in old Scottish legal documents to call attention to

the following word or phrase.

LIFT, capture, carry off by theft.

LIMMER, a jade.

LOCH, a lake.

LOON, an idle fellow, a lout, a rogue.

LUCKIE, an elderly woman.

LUG, an ear, a handle.

LUNZIE, the loins, the waist.

MAE, mair, more.

MAINS, the chief farm of an estate.

MALT ABUNE THE MEAL, the drink above the food, half-seas over.

MAUN, must.

MEAL ARK, a meal chest.

MERK, 13 1/3 pence in English money.

MICKLE, much, great.

MISGUGGLED, mangled, rumpled.

MONY, many.

MORN, the morn, tomorrow.

MORNING, a morning dram.

MUCKLE, much, great.

MUIR, moor.

NA, nae, no, not.

NAINSELL, own self.

NICE, simple.

NOLT, black cattle. ony, any.

ORRA, odd, unemployed.

ORRA-TIME, occasionally.

OWER, over.

PEEL-HOUSE, a fortified tower.

PENDICLE, a small piece of ground.

PINGLE, a fuss, trouble.

PLENISHING, furnishings.

PLOY, sport, entertainment.

PRETTY MEN, stout, warlike fellows.

REIFS, robberies.

REIVERS, robbers.

RIGGS, ridges, ploughed ground.

ROKELAY, a short cloak.

RUDAS, coarse, hag-like.

SAIN, mark with the sign of the cross, bless.

SAIR, sore, very.

SAUMON, salmon.

SAUT, salt.

SAY, a sample.

SCHELLUM, a rascal.

SCOUPING, scowping, skipping, leaping, running.

SEANNACHIE, a Highland antiquary.

SHEARING, reaping, harvest.

SHILPIT, weak, sickly.

SHOON, shoes.

SIC, siccan, such.

SIDIER DHU, black soldiers, independent companies raised to keep peace

in the Highlands; named from the tartans they wore.

SIDIER ROY, red soldiers, King George’s men.

SIKES, small brooks.

SILLER, silver, money.

SIMMER, summer.

SLIVER, slice, slit.

SMOKY, suspicious.

SNECK, cut.

SNOOD, a fillet worn by young women.

SOPITE, quiet a brawl.

SORNERS, sornars, sojourners, sturdy beggars, especially those

unwelcome visitors who exact lodgings and victuals by force.

SORTED, arranged, adjusted.

SPEIR, ask, investigate.

SPORRAN-MOLLACH, a Highland purse of goatskin.

SPRACK, animated, lively.

SPRING, a cheerful tune.

SPURRZIE, spoil.

STIEVE, stiff, firm.

STIRK, a young steer or heifer.

STOT, a bullock.

STOUP, a jug, a pitcher.

STOUTHREEF, robbery.

STRAE, straw.

STRATH, a valley through which a river runs.

SYBOES, onions.

TA, the. TAIGLIT, harassed, loitered.

TAILZIE, taillie, a deed of entail.

TAPPIT-HEN, a pewter pot that holds three English quarts.

TAYOUT, tailliers-hors; in modern phrase, Tally-ho!

TEIL, the devil.

TEINDS, tithes.

TELT, told.

TILL, to. TOUN, a hamlet, a farm.

TREWS, trousers.

TROW, believe, suppose.

TWA, two.

TYKE, a dog, a snarling fellow.

UNCO, strange, very.

UNKENN’D, unknown.

USQUEBAUGH, whiskey.

WA’, wall.

WARE, spend.

WEEL, well.

WHA, who.

WHAR, where.

WHAT FOR, why.

WHILK, which.

WISKE, whisk, brandish.

NOTES—Volume II.

NOTE 26

The clan of Mac-Farlane, occupying the fastnesses of the western side

of Loch Lomond, were great depredators on the Low Country, and as their

excursions were made usually by night, the moon was proverbially called

their lantern. Their celebrated pibroch of _Hoggil nam Bo_, which is

the name of their gathering tune, intimates similar practices, the

sense being:—

We are bound to drive the bullocks,

All by hollows, hirsts, and hillocks,

Through the sleet, and through the rain.

When the moon is beaming low

On frozen lake and hills of snow,

Bold and heartily we go;

And all for little gain.

NOTE 27

This noble ruin is dear to my recollection, from associations which

have been long and painfully broken. It holds a commanding station on

the banks of the river Teith, and has been one of the largest castles

in Scotland. Murdoch, Duke of Albany, the founder of this stately pile,

was beheaded on the Castle-hill of Stirling, from which he might see

the towers of Doune, the monument of his fallen greatness.

In 1745–46, as stated in the text, a garrison on the part of the

Chevalier was put into the castle, then less ruinous than at present.

It was commanded by Mr. Stewart of Balloch, as governor for Prince

Charles; he was a man of property near Callander. This castle became at

that time the actual scene of a romantic escape made by John Home, the

author of Douglas, and some other prisoners, who, having been taken at

the battle of Falkirk, were confined there by the insurgents. The poet,

who had in his own mind a large stock of that romantic and enthusiastic

spirit of adventure which he has described as animating the youthful

hero of his drama, devised and undertook the perilous enterprise of

escaping from his prison. He inspired his companions with his

sentiments, and when every attempt at open force was deemed hopeless,

they resolved to twist their bed-clothes into ropes and thus to

descend. Four persons, with Home himself, reached the ground in safety.

But the rope broke with the fifth, who was a tall, lusty man. The sixth

was Thomas Barrow, a brave young Englishman, a particular friend of

Home’s. Determined to take the risk, even in such unfavourable

circumstances, Barrow committed himself to the broken rope, slid down

on it as far as it could assist him, and then let himself drop. His

friends beneath succeeded in breaking his fall. Nevertheless, he

dislocated his ankle and had several of his ribs broken. His

companions, however, were able to bear him off in safety.

The Highlanders next morning sought for their prisoners with great

activity. An old gentleman told the author he remembered seeing the

commandant Stewart

Bloody with spurring, fiery red with haste,

riding furiously through the country in quest of the fugitives.

NOTE 28

To go out, or to have been out, in Scotland was a conventional phrase

similar to that of the Irish respecting a man having been up, both

having reference to an individual who had been engaged in insurrection.

It was accounted ill-breeding in Scotland about forty years since to

use the phrase rebellion or rebel, which might be interpreted by some

of the parties present as a personal insult. It was also esteemed more

polite, even for stanch Whigs, to denominate Charles Edward the

Chevalier than to speak of him as the Pretender; and this kind of

accommodating courtesy was usually observed in society where

individuals of each party mixed on friendly terms.

NOTE 29

The Jacobite sentiments were general among the western counties and in

Wales. But although the great families of the Wynnes, the Wyndhams, and

others had come under an actual obligation to join Prince Charles if he

should land, they had done so under the express stipulation that he

should be assisted by an auxiliary army of French, without which they

foresaw the enterprise would be desperate. Wishing well to his cause,

therefore, and watching an opportunity to join him, they did not,

nevertheless, think themselves bound in honour to do so, as he was only

supported by a body of wild mountaineers, speaking an uncouth dialect,

and wearing a singular dress. The race up to Derby struck them with

more dread than admiration. But it is difficult to say what the effect

might have been had either the battle of Preston or Falkirk been fought

and won during the advance into England.

NOTE 30

Divisions early showed themselves in the Chevalier’s little army, not

only amongst the independent chieftains, who were far too proud to

brook subjection to each other, but betwixt the Scotch and Charles’s

governor O’Sullivan, an Irishman by birth, who, with some of his

countrymen bred in the Irish Brigade in the service of the King of

France, had an influence with the Adventurer much resented by the

Highlanders, who were sensible that their own clans made the chief or

rather the only strength of his enterprise. There was a feud, also,

between Lord George Murray and John Murray of Broughton, the Prince’s

secretary, whose disunion greatly embarrassed the affairs of the

Adventurer. In general, a thousand different pretensions divided their

little army, and finally contributed in no small degree to its

overthrow.

NOTE 31

This circumstance, which is historical, as well as the description that

precedes it, will remind the reader of the war of La Vendée, in which

the royalists, consisting chiefly of insurgent peasantry, attached a

prodigious and even superstitious interest to the possession of a piece

of brass ordnance, which they called Marie Jeanne.

The Highlanders of an early period were afraid of cannon, with the

noise and effect of which they were totally unacquainted. It was by

means of three or four small pieces of artillery that the Earls of

Huntly and Errol, in James VI.’s time, gained a great victory at

Glenlivat, over a numerous Highland army, commanded by the Earl of

Argyle. At the battle of the Bridge of Dee, General Middleton obtained

by his artillery a similar success, the Highlanders not being able to

stand the discharge of Musket’s Mother, which was the name they

bestowed on great guns. In an old ballad on the battle of the Bridge of

Dee these verses occur:—

“The Highlandmen are pretty men

For handling sword and shield,

But yet they are but simple men

To stand a stricken field.

“The Highlandmen are pretty men

For target and claymore,

But yet they are but naked men

To face the cannon’s roar.

“For the cannons roar on a summer night

Like thunder in the air;

Was never man in Highland garb

Would face the cannon fair.”

But the Highlanders of 1745 had got far beyond the simplicity of their

forefathers, and showed throughout the whole war how little they

dreaded artillery, although the common people still attached some

consequence to the possession of the field-piece which led to this

disquisition.

NOTE 32

The faithful friend who pointed out the pass by which the Highlanders

moved from Tranent to Seaton was Robert Anderson, junior, of Whitburgh,

a gentleman of property in East Lothian. He had been interrogated by

the Lord George Murray concerning the possibility of crossing the

uncouth and marshy piece of ground which divided the armies, and which

he described as impracticable. When dismissed, he recollected that

there was a circuitous path leading eastward through the marsh into the

plain, by which the Highlanders might turn the flank of Sir John Cope’s

position without being exposed to the enemy’s fire. Having mentioned

his opinion to Mr. Hepburn of Keith, who instantly saw its importance,

he was encouraged by that gentleman to awake Lord George Murray and

communicate the idea to him. Lord George received the information with

grateful thanks, and instantly awakened Prince Charles, who was

sleeping in the field with a bunch of pease under his head. The

Adventurer received with alacrity the news that there was a possibility

of bringing an excellently provided army to a decisive battle with his

own irregular forces. His joy on the occasion was not very consistent

with the charge of cowardice brought against him by Chevalier

Johnstone, a discontented follower, whose Memoirs possess at least as

much of a romantic as a historical character. Even by the account of

the Chevalier himself, the Prince was at the head of the second line of

the Highland army during the battle, of which he says, “It was gained

with such rapidity that in the second line, where I was still by the

side of the Prince, we saw no other enemy than those who were lying on

the ground killed and wounded, _though we were not more than fifty

paces behind our first line, running always as fast as we could to

overtake them_.”

This passage in the Chevalier’s Memoirs places the Prince within fifty

paces of the heat of the battle, a position which would never have been

the choice of one unwilling to take a share of its dangers. Indeed,

unless the chiefs had complied with the young Adventurer’s proposal to

lead the van in person, it does not appear that he could have been

deeper in the action.

NOTE 33

The death of this good Christian and gallant man is thus given by his

affectionate biographer, Doctor Doddridge, from the evidence of

eye-witnesses:—

“He continued all night under arms, wrapped up in his cloak, and

generally sheltered under a rick of barley which happened to be in the

field. About three in the morning he called his domestic servants to

him, of which there were four in waiting. He dismissed three of them

with most affectionate Christian advice, and such solemn charges

relating to the performance of their duty, and the care of their souls,

as seemed plainly to intimate that he apprehended it was at least very

probable he was taking his last farewell of them. There is great reason

to believe that he spent the little remainder of the time, which could

not be much above an hour, in those devout exercises of soul which had

been so long habitual to him, and to which so many circumstances did

then concur to call him. The army was alarmed by break of day by the

noise of the rebels’ approach, and the attack was made before sunrise,

yet when it was light enough to discern what passed. As soon as the

enemy came within gun-shot they made a furious fire; and it is said

that the dragoons which constituted the left wing immediately fled. The

Colonel at the beginning of the onset, which in the whole lasted but a

few minutes, received a wound by a bullet in his left breast, which

made him give a sudden spring in his saddle; upon which his servant,

who led the horse, would have persuaded him to retreat, but he said it

was only a wound in the flesh, and fought on, though he presently after

received a shot in his right thigh. In the mean time, it was discerned

that some of the enemy fell by him, and particularly one man who had

made him a treacherous visit but a few days before, with great

professions of zeal for the present establishment.

“Events of this kind pass in less time than the description of them can

be written, or than it can be read. The Colonel was for a few moments

supported by his men, and particularly by that worthy person

Lieutenant-Colonel Whitney, who was shot through the arm here, and a

few months after fell nobly at the battle of Falkirk, and by Lieutenant

West, a man of distinguished bravery, as also by about fifteen

dragoons, who stood by him to the last. But after a faint fire, the

regiment in general was seized with a panic; and though their Colonel

and some other gallant officers did what they could to rally them once

or twice, they at last took a precipitate flight. And just in the

moment when Colonel Gardiner seemed to be making a pause to deliberate

what duty required him to do in such circumstances, an accident

happened, which must, I think, in the judgment of every worthy and

generous man, be allowed a sufficient apology for exposing his life to

so great hazard, when his regiment had left him. He saw a party of the

foot, who were then bravely fighting near him, and whom he was ordered

to support, had no officer to head them; upon which he said eagerly, in

the hearing of the person from whom I had this account, “These brave

fellows will be cut to pieces for want of a commander,” or words to

that effect; which while he was speaking he rode up to them and cried

out, “Fire on, my lads, and fear nothing.” But just as the words were

out of his mouth, a Highlander advanced towards him with a scythe

fastened to a long pole, with which he gave him so dreadful a wound on

his right arm, that his sword dropped out of his hand; and at the same

time several others coming about him while he was thus dreadfully

entangled with that cruel weapon, he was dragged off from his horse.

The moment he fell, another Highlander, who, if the king’s evidence at

Carlisle may be credited (as I know not why they should not, though the

unhappy creature died denying it), was one Mac-Naught, who was executed

about a year after, gave him a stroke either with a broadsword or a

Lochaber-axe (for my informant could not exactly distinguish) on the

hinder part of his head, which was the mortal blow. All that his

faithful attendant saw farther at this time was that, as his hat was

fallen off, he took it in his left hand and waved it as a signal to him

to retreat, and added, what were the last words he ever heard him

speak, “Take care of yourself”; upon which the servant retired” (_Some

Remarkable Passages in the Life of Colonel James Gardiner, by P.

Doddridge, D.D._ London, 1747, P.187).

I may remark on this extract, that it confirms the account given in the

text of the resistance offered by some of the English infantry.

Surprised by a force of a peculiar and unusual description, their

opposition could not be long or formidable, especially as they were

deserted by the cavalry, and those who undertook to manage the

artillery. But, although the affair was soon decided, I have always

understood that many of the infantry showed an inclination to do their

duty.

NOTE 34

It is scarcely necessary to say that the character of this brutal young

Laird is entirely imaginary. A gentleman, however, who resembled

Balmawhapple in the article of courage only, fell at Preston in the

manner described. A Perthshire gentleman of high honour and

respectability, one of the handful of cavalry who followed the fortunes

of Charles Edward, pursued the fugitive dragoons almost alone till near

Saint Clement’s Wells, where the efforts of some of the officers had

prevailed on a few of them to make a momentary stand. Perceiving at

this moment that they were pursued by only one man and a couple of

servants, they turned upon him and cut him down with their swords. I

remember when a child, sitting on his grave, where the grass long grew

rank and green, distinguishing it from the rest of the field. A female

of the family then residing at Saint Clement’s Wells used to tell me

the tragedy, of which she had been an eye-witness, and showed me in

evidence one of the silver clasps of the unfortunate gentleman’s

waistcoat.

NOTE 35

The name of Andrea de Ferrara is inscribed on all the Scottish

broadswords which are accounted of peculiar excellence. Who this artist

was, what were his fortunes, and when he flourished, have hitherto

defied the research of antiquaries; only it is in general believed that

Andrea de Ferrara was a Spanish or Italian artificer, brought over by

James IV. or V. to instruct the Scots in the manufacture of sword

blades. Most barbarous nations excel in the fabrication of arms; and

the Scots had attained great proficiency in forging swords so early as

the field of Pinkie; at which period the historian Patten describes

them as “all notably broad and thin, universally made to slice, and of

such exceeding good temper that, as I never saw any so good, so I think

it hard to devise better” (_Account of Somerset’s Expedition._)

It may be observed that the best and most genuine Andrea Ferraras have

a crown marked on the blades.

NOTE 36

The incident here said to have happened to Flora Mac-Ivor actually

befell Miss Nairne, a lady with whom the author had the pleasure of

being acquainted. As the Highland army rushed into Edinburgh, Miss

Nairne, like other ladies who approved of their cause, stood waving her

handkerchief from a balcony, when a ball from a Highlander’s musket,

which was discharged by accident, grazed her forehead. “Thank God,”

said she, the instant she recovered, “that the accident happened to me,

whose principles are known. Had it befallen a Whig, they would have

said it was done on purpose.”

NOTE 37

The Author of “Waverley” has been charged with painting the young

Adventurer in colours more amiable than his character deserved. But

having known many individuals who were near his person, he has been

described according to the light in which those eye-witnesses saw his

temper and qualifications. Something must be allowed, no doubt, to the

natural exaggerations of those who remembered him as the bold and

adventurous Prince in whose cause they had braved death and ruin; but

is their evidence to give place entirely to that of a single

malcontent?

I have already noticed the imputations thrown by the Chevalier

Johnstone on the Prince’s courage. But some part at least of that

gentleman’s tale is purely romantic. It would not, for instance, be

supposed that at the time he is favouring us with the highly wrought

account of his amour with the adorable Peggie, the Chevalier Johnstone

was a married man, whose grandchild is now alive; or that the whole

circumstantial story concerning the outrageous vengeance taken by

Gordon of Abbachie on a Presbyterian clergyman is entirely apocryphal.

At the same time it may be admitted that the Prince, like others of his

family, did not esteem the services done him by his adherents so highly

as he ought. Educated in high ideas of his hereditary right, he has

been supposed to have held every exertion and sacrifice made in his

cause as too much the duty of the person making it to merit extravagant

gratitude on his part. Dr. King’s evidence (which his leaving the

Jacobite interest renders somewhat doubtful) goes to strengthen this

opinion.

The ingenious editor of Johnstone’s Memoirs has quoted a story said to

be told by Helvetius, stating that Prince Charles Edward, far from

voluntarily embarking on his daring expedition, was, literally bound

hand and foot, and to which he seems disposed to yield credit. Now, it

being a fact as well known as any in his history, and, so far as I

know, entirely undisputed, that the Prince’s personal entreaties and

urgency positively forced Boisdale and Lochiel into insurrection, when

they were earnestly desirous that he would put off his attempt until he

could obtain a sufficient force from France, it will be very difficult

to reconcile his alleged reluctance to undertake the expedition with

his desperately insisting upon carrying the rising into effect against

the advice and entreaty of his most powerful and most sage partizans.

Surely a man who had been carried bound on board the vessel which

brought him to so desperate an enterprise would have taken the

opportunity afforded by the reluctance of his partizans to return to

France in safety.

It is averred in Johnstone’s Memoirs that Charles Edward left the field

of Culloden without doing the utmost to dispute the victory; and, to

give the evidence on both sides, there is in existence the more

trustworthy testimony of Lord Elcho, who states that he himself

earnestly exhorted the Prince to charge at the head of the left wing,

which was entire, and retrieve the day or die with honour. And on his

counsel being declined, Lord Elcho took leave of him with a bitter

execration, swearing he would never look on his face again, and kept

his word.

On the other hand, it seems to have been the opinion of almost all the

other officers that the day was irretrievably lost, one wing of the

Highlanders being entirely routed, the rest of the army outnumbered,

outflanked, and in a condition totally hopeless. In this situation of

things the Irish officers who surrounded Charles’s person interfered to

force him off the field. A cornet who was close to the Prince left a

strong attestation that he had seen Sir Thomas Sheridan seize the

bridle of his horse and turn him round. There is some discrepancy of

evidence; but the opinion of Lord Elcho, a man of fiery temper and

desperate at the ruin which he beheld impending, cannot fairly be taken

in prejudice of a character for courage which is intimated by the

nature of the enterprise itself, by the Prince’s eagerness to fight on

all occasions, by his determination to advance from Derby to London,

and by the presence of mind which he manifested during the romantic

perils of his escape. The author is far from claiming for this

unfortunate person the praise due to splendid talents; but he continues

to be of opinion that at the period of his enterprise he had a mind

capable of facing danger and aspiring to fame.

That Charles Edward had the advantages of a graceful presence,

courtesy, and an address and manner becoming his station, the author

never heard disputed by any who approached his person, nor does he

conceive that these qualities are overcharged in the present attempt to

sketch his portrait.

The following extracts corroborative of the general opinion respecting

the Prince’s amiable disposition are taken from a manuscript account of

his romantic expedition, by James Maxwell of Kirkconnell, of which I

possess a copy, by the friendship of J. Menzies, Esq., of Pitfoddells.

The author, though partial to the Prince, whom he faithfully followed,

seems to have been a fair and candid man, and well acquainted with the

intrigues among the adventurer’s council:—

“Everybody was mightily taken with the Prince’s figure and personal

behaviour. There was but one voice about them. Those whom interest or

prejudice made a runaway to his cause could not help acknowledging that

they wished him well in all other respects, and could hardly blame him

for his present undertaking. Sundry things had concurred to raise his

character to the highest pitch, besides the greatness of the enterprise

and the conduct that had hitherto appeared in the execution of it.

“There were several instances of good nature and humanity that had made

a great impression on people’s minds. I shall confine myself to two or

three.

“Immediately after the battle, as the Prince was riding along the

ground that Cope’s army had occupied a few minutes before, one of the

officers came up to congratulate him, and said, pointing to the killed,

“Sir, there are your enemies at your feet.” The Prince, far from

exulting, expressed a great deal of compassion for his father’s deluded

subjects, whom he declared he was heartily sorry to see in that

posture.

“Next day, while the Prince was at Pinkie House, a citizen of Edinburgh

came to make some representation to Secretary Murray about the tents

that city was ordered to furnish against a certain day. Murray happened

to be out of the way, which the Prince hearing of called to have the

gentleman brought to him, saying, he would rather despatch the

business, whatever it was, himself than have the gentleman wait, which

he did, by granting everything that was asked. So much affability in a

young prince flushed with victory drew encomiums even from his enemies.

“But what gave the people the highest idea of him was the negative he

gave to a thing that very nearly concerned his interest, and upon which

the success of his enterprise perhaps depended. It was proposed to send

one of the prisoners to London to demand of that court a cartel for the

exchange of prisoners taken, and to be taken, during this war, and to

intimate that a refusal would be looked upon as a resolution on their

part to give no quarter. It was visible a cartel would be of great

advantage to the Prince’s affairs; his friends would be more ready to

declare for him if they had nothing to fear but the chance of war in

the field; and if the court of London refused to settle a cartel, the

Prince was authorised to treat his prisoners in the same manner the

Elector of Hanover was determined to treat such of the Prince’s friends

as might fall into his hands; it was urged that a few examples would

compel the court of London to comply. It was to be presumed that the

officers of the English army would make a point of it. They had never

engaged in the service but upon such terms as are in use among all

civilised nations, and it could be no stain upon their honour to lay

down their commissions if these terms were not observed, and that owing

to the obstinacy of their own Prince. Though this scheme was plausible,

and represented as very important, the Prince could never be brought

into it, it was below him, he said, to make empty threats, and he would

never put such as those into execution; he would never in cold blood

take away lives which he had saved in heat of action at the peril of

his own. These were not the only proofs of good nature the Prince gave

about this time. Every day produced something new of this kind. These

things softened the rigour of a military government which was only

imputed to the necessity of his affairs, and which he endeavoured to

make as gentle and easy as possible.”

It has been said that the Prince sometimes exacted more state and

ceremonial than seemed to suit his condition; but, on the other hand,

some strictness of etiquette was altogether indispensable where he must

otherwise have been exposed to general intrusion. He could also endure,

with a good grace, the retorts which his affectation of ceremony

sometimes exposed him to. It is said, for example, that Grant of

Glenmoriston having made a hasty march to join Charles, at the head of

his clan, rushed into the Prince’s presence at Holyrood with

unceremonious haste, without having attended to the duties of the

toilet. The Prince received him kindly, but not without a hint that a

previous interview with the barber might not have been wholly

unnecessary. “It is not beardless boys,” answered the displeased Chief,

“who are to do your Royal Highness’s turn.” The Chevalier took the

rebuke in good part.

On the whole, if Prince Charles had concluded his life soon after his

miraculous escape, his character in history must have stood very high.

As it was, his station is amongst those a certain brilliant portion of

whose life forms a remarkable contrast to all which precedes and all

which follows it.

NOTE 38

The following account of the skirmish at Clifton is extracted from the

manuscript Memoirs of Evan Macpherson of Cluny, Chief of the clan

Macpherson, who had the merit of supporting the principal brunt of that

spirited affair. The Memoirs appear to have been composed about 1755,

only ten years after the action had taken place. They were written in

France, where that gallant chief resided in exile, which accounts for

some Gallicisms which occur in the narrative.

“In the Prince’s return from Derby back towards Scotland, my Lord

George Murray, Lieutenant-General, cheerfully charg’d himself with the

command of the rear, a post which, altho’ honourable, was attended with

great danger, many difficulties, and no small fatigue; for the Prince,

being apprehensive that his retreat to Scotland might be cut off by

Marischall Wade, who lay to the northward of him with an armie much

superior to what H.R.H. had, while the Duke of Comberland with his

whole cavalrie followed hard in the rear, was obliged to hasten his

marches. It was not, therefore, possible for the artilirie to march so

fast as the Prince’s army, in the depth of winter, extremely bad

weather, and the worst roads in England; so Lord George Murray was

obliged often to continue his marches long after it was dark almost

every night, while at the same time he had frequent alarms and

disturbances from the Duke of Comberland’s advanc’d parties.

“Towards the evening of the twentie-eight December 1745 the Prince

entered the town of Penrith, in the Province of Comberland. But as Lord

George Murray could not bring up the artilirie so fast as he wou’d have

wish’d, he was oblig’d to pass the night six miles short of that town,

together with the regiment of MacDonel of Glengarrie, which that day

happened to have the arrear guard. The Prince, in order to refresh his

armie, and to give My Lord George and the artilirie time to come up,

resolved to sejour the 29th at Penrith; so ordered his little army to

appear in the morning under arms, in order to be reviewed, and to know

in what manner the numbers stood from his haveing entered England. It

did not at that time amount to 5000 foot in all, with about 400

cavalrie, compos’d of the noblesse who serv’d as volunteers, part of

whom form’d a first troop of guards for the Prince, under the command

of My Lord Elchoe, now Comte de Weems, who, being proscribed, is

presently in France. Another part formed a second troup of guards under

the command of My Lord Balmirino, who was beheaded at the Tower of

London. A third part serv’d under My Lord le Comte de Kilmarnock, who

was likewise beheaded at the Tower. A fourth part serv’d under My Lord

Pitsligow, who is also proscribed; which cavalrie, tho’ very few in

numbers, being all noblesse, were very brave, and of infinite advantage

to the foot, not only in the day of battle, but in serving as advanced

guards on the several marches, and in patroling dureing the night on

the different roads which led towards the towns where the army happened

to quarter.

“While this small army was out in a body on the 29th December, upon a

riseing ground to the northward of Penrith, passing review, Mons. de

Cluny, with his tribe, was ordered to the Bridge of Clifton, about a

mile to southward of Penrith, after having pass’d in review before

Mons. Pattullo, who was charged with the inspection of the troops, and

was likeways Quarter-Master-General of the army, and is now in France.

They remained under arms at the bridge, waiting the arrival of My Lord

George Murray with the artilirie, whom Mons. de Cluny had orders to

cover in passing the bridge. They arrived about sunset closly pursued

by the Duke of Comberland with the whole body of his cavalrie, reckoned

upwards of 3000 strong, about a thousand of whom, as near as might be

computed, dismounted, in order to cut off the passage of the artilirie

towards the bridge, while the Duke and the others remained on horseback

in order to attack the rear.

“My Lord George Murray advanced, and although he found Mons. de Cluny

and his tribe in good spirits under arms, yet the circumstance appear’d

extremely delicate. The numbers were vastly unequall, and the attack

seem’d very dangerous; so My Lord George declin’d giving orders to such

time as he ask’d Mons. de Cluny’s opinion. “I will attack them with all

my heart,” says Mons. de Cluny, “if you order me.” “I do order it

then,” answered My Lord George, and immediately went on himself along

with Mons. de Cluny, and fought sword in hand on foot at the head of

the single tribe of Macphersons. They in a moment made their way

through a strong hedge of thorns, under the cover whereof the cavalrie

had taken their station, in the struggle of passing which hedge My Lord

George Murray, being dressed en montagnard, as all the army were, lost

his bonet and wig; so continued to fight bare-headed during the action.

They at first made a brisk discharge of their firearms on the enemy,

then attacked them with their sabres, and made a great slaughter a

considerable time, which obliged Comberland and his cavalrie to fly

with precipitation and in great confusion; in so much that, if the

Prince had been provided in a sufficient number of cavalrie to have

taken advantage of the disorder, it is beyond question that the Duke of

Comberland and the bulk of his cavalrie had been taken prisoners.

“By this time it was so dark that it was not possible to view or number

the slain who filled all the ditches which happened to be on the ground

where they stood. But it was computed that, besides those who went off

wounded, upwards of a hundred at least were left on the spot, among

whom was Colonel Honywood, who commanded the dismounted cavalrie, whose

sabre of considerable value Mons. de Cluny brought off and still

preserves; and his tribe lykeways brought off many arms;—the Colonel

was afterwards taken up, and, his wounds being dress’d, with great

difficultie recovered. Mons. de Cluny lost only in the action twelve

men, of whom some haveing been only wounded, fell afterwards into the

hands of the enemy, and were sent as slaves to America, whence several

of them returned, and one of them is now in France, a sergeant in the

Regiment of Royal Scots. How soon the accounts of the enemies approach

had reached the Prince, H.R.H. had immediately ordered Mi-Lord le Comte

de Nairne, Brigadier, who, being proscribed, is now in France, with the

three batalions of the Duke of Athol, the batalion of the Duke of

Perth, and some other troups under his command, in order to support

Cluny, and to bring off the artilirie. But the action was entirely over

before the Comte de Nairne, with his command, cou’d reach nigh to the

place. They therefore return’d all to Penrith, and the artilirie

marched up in good order.

“Nor did the Duke of Comberland ever afterwards dare to come within a

day’s march of the Prince and his army dureing the course of all that

retreat, which was conducted with great prudence and safety when in

some manner surrounded by enemies.”

NOTE 39

As the heathen deities contracted an indelible obligation if they swore

by Styx, the Scottish Highlanders had usually some peculiar solemnity

attached to an oath which they intended should be binding on them. Very

frequently it consisted in laying their hand, as they swore, on their

own drawn dirk; which dagger, becoming a party to the transaction, was

invoked to punish any breach of faith. But by whatever ritual the oath

was sanctioned, the party was extremely desirous to keep secret what

the especial oath was which he considered as irrevocable. This was a

matter of great convenience, as he felt no scruple in breaking his

asseveration when made in any other form than that which he accounted

as peculiarly solemn; and therefore readily granted any engagement

which bound him no longer than he inclined. Whereas, if the oath which

he accounted inviolable was once publicly known, no party with whom he

might have occasion to contract would have rested satisfied with any

other.

Louis XI. of France practised the same sophistry, for he also had a

peculiar species of oath, the only one which he was ever known to

respect, and which, therefore, he was very unwilling to pledge. The

only engagement which that wily tyrant accounted binding upon him was

an oath by the Holy Cross of Saint Lo d’Angers, which contained a

portion of the True Cross. If he prevaricated after taking this oath

Louis believed he should die within the year. The Constable Saint Paul,

being invited to a personal conference with Louis, refused to meet the

king unless he would agree to ensure him safe conduct under sanction of

this oath. But, says Comines, the king replied, he would never again

pledge that engagement to mortal man, though he was willing to take any

other oath which could be devised. The treaty broke oft, therefore,

after much chaffering concerning the nature of the vow which Louis was

to take. Such is the difference between the dictates of superstition

and those of conscience.