Journal of the Miraculous Escape of the Young Chevalier

Journal of the Miraculous Escape of the Young Chevalier



fter the Highlanders gave way at the battle of Culloden, the Prince was forced off the field by Major Kennedy and other officers, while the French forces and a few Scots kept the Duke's army for some time at bay, to prevent an immediate pursuit.

                        A great number of gentlemen went to guard the Prince safe off, and crossed the river Nairn, four miles from Inverness; where a council was held, where in it was agreed that Fitz-James's and the rest of the horse should go to Ruthven in Badenoch. Here it was the Prince first despaired, and desired the gentlemen to disperse, that their enemies might be baffled by the variety of their routs: and accordingly, the Honourable Charles Boyd, second son to the Earl of Kilmarnock, and some others, kissed the Prince's hand, and went off on their respective routs.

               These, then, with some gentlemen, proceeded directly to Torda rack, nine miles from Inverness; but that place having been abandoned, they were forced five miles farther to Aberarder, in McIntosh's country; then to Faroline in Lovat's country, five miles; and then a mile more to Castle laige, or Gortulaige; where they met Lord Lovat, and drank two or three glasses of wine.

               Here Lord Elcho took his leave, and set forwards for Kinlock-moidart, where he arrived a few days after the battle; not a little disgusted, that greater deference had not been hitherto paid him.

               Hither the Prince was attended by Sir Thomas Sheridan, Sir David Murray, Aid-de-camp, Sullivan, Alexander MacLeod, another Aid-de-camp, and son of Mr. John MacLeod, advocate, John Hay, Secretary in Murray's absence, Edward Burke, Alexander MacLeod's man, Mr. Hay's man, and Allan MacDonald, a priest employed as a guide.

               About ten o'clock at night, Ascanius, and his few attendants, proceeded on their journey; and about four or five in the morning, they arrived at Glengary, or Invergary castle, where they found only one man, who said that Glengary and his family were absent, and had left no provisions or furniture in the house; so the Prince was obliged to lie for some time on the floor, without any refreshment.

               When day-light appeared, Edward Burke found a net, which he drew, and caught two salmons, on which they dined very well.

               Here this company was ordered to disperse, and part took leave and went for Arnaby; the rest, Sullivan, Allan MacDonald, and Edward Burke, the guide, staying to attend the Prince.

               About two o'clock in the afternoon, the Prince set forward with his three companions, having dressed himself in Burke's clothes, and went to Donald Cameron's at Glenbien, in Lochiel's country, where they arrived about nine in the evening.

               On the 18th, the Prince went to Mewboll, in Clanranald's country, where he stayed all night, was well entertained, and got some sleep, which he had not got for five days and nights; he and his army having been in action, under arms, marching and counter-marching, without sleep or much meat, for forty-eight hours before the battle.

               The next day, being the 19th, the Prince waited some hours in hopes of getting intelligence of some of his friends, but hearing nothing, he was obliged to set out on foot (the horse-road not only being about, but so bad, as to be scarce, if at all passable), and, therefore, walked over almost inaccessible mountains to the Glen of Morar, or Kenlock-Morar, and thence to Boisdale, or Bordale, in Airsaig, Clanranald's country, through as bad ways as can be conceived. Hither Mr. Eneas MacDonald, the banker, came to the Prince, who had wrote for him, and returned again that night to his brother's house at Kinlock-Moidart. About two days after that, Lord Elcho and O'Neil got to Kinlock-Moidart.

               Here the Prince waited several days, till Captain O'Neil came to him, by Sir Thomas Sheridan's directions, and told him that all hopes of drawing his troops together again were now over; on which he resolved at last to go to the western islands, whence, he thought, he could get a vessel for France.

               Strong were the debates here, about quitting the continent of Scotland for the isles. The Highlanders were against so dangerous a step; but, at last, Sullivan's advice, whose head had injured his master more than once, prevailed; asserting a greater probability of getting ships about the isles, and the great danger of staying on the continent; but the Prince following this advice, had like to have lost his life many ways, and many times, as we shall find in the sequel.

               In one day three several messengers got to Donald MacLeod, who had been with Mr. Eneas MacDonald to the isles, to fetch some money from the isle of Barra, and was returning when the battle was ended; these three were sent to order MacLeod to repair to the Prince at  Boradale.

               Pursuant to this summons, Donald went, and in going through a wood, on the 20th, or 21st of April, met the Prince alone. The Prince, seeing Donald, advanced boldly, and asked, Who was he? what was he? which Donald answering daringly, said, My name is Donald MacLeod Oh! "thou art Donald MacLeod of Galtrigil, in the isle of Skye?" Yes, said Donald; then said the Prince, "You see the distress I am in, I therefore throw myself into your bosom, and do with me what you like, I am your Prince."

               In repeating these words, the poor old man burst into a flood of tears and said, "I hope, Sir, (to the person he was relating this to) you will pardon me, for who can refrain from tears at so doleful a thought; oh! had you seen but the man, and the place, and the distress; oh! it would have moved the Grand Turk." Donald having wiped his eyes, proceeded, and said, "He told the Prince, that as he (MacLeod) was old, he was afraid he could be of little use, but yet was willing to do what he could." "Then, (says the Prince.) I desire you will go with these letters from me to Sir Alexander MacDonald and the Laird of MacLeod; for I still think those gentlemen, notwithstanding what they have done, will have humanity and honour enough, to give their protection to the wretched, whose crime is only bad luck and misfortune."

               These generous sentiments acting so powerfully in the breast of a Prince, so as to give him a confidence in the honour and humanity of any one, who is a gentleman, had struck Donald with surprise, and he immediately cried out: "Oh! Sir, I would do anything for you but this; your Highness knows they have played the rogue already, and you must not trust them again; for at this very time they are in search for you with their forces, and are within ten or twelve miles of you, if they come by sea, though it is more by land; therefore the sooner you remove from this place the better."

               Upon Donald's counsel, as above, the Prince desired, "that as he was a good pilot, he would conduct him through the islands to some safer place;" which Donald MacLeod readily agreed to; and accordingly, procured an eight-oared boat, the late property of John MacDonald, son of Eneas or Angus MacDonald of  Boradale. [1]

               Donald MacLeod also bought a pot to boil meat in, when they should arrive on shore, and a firlot (i.e. four pecks, or a quarter of a boll) of meal, being all the provision to be got there.

               On the 26th, they went on board with twilight, in the evening, at Locknanua, in  Boradale, the very same place where the Prince first landed on the continent of Scotland; and  Boradale house, the first he entered. There were in the board, the Prince, O'Neil, Sullivan, Allan MacDonald of Clanranald's family, and Donald MacLeod, their pilot, and betwixt whose knees the Prince sat; the boatmen were, Roderick MacDonald, Lauchlan McMurrish, Roderick McAskgill, John MacDonald, Murdoch MacLeod, son to the pilot, Duncan Roy, Alexander MacDonald, and Edward Burke, (who had conducted the Prince from the battle of Culloden to this place). The above Murdoch MacLeod was then only fifteen years old, and when he heard of the speedy appearance of a battle, provided for himself a claymore (broad sword,) a dirk (small dagger) and a pistol, and went to the battle of Culloden; whence he escaped, though hurt, and hunting out the Prince all the way, followed him, and here overtook the Prince and his own father.

               I cannot help remarking here, that the Prince must have been greatly admired in this country, when this lad could hunt him out, so as to find him, when his enemies could not; so cautious were the people, not to tell where he was, when his life was in danger.

               When they were about to go into the boat, Donald MacLeod begged the Prince not to go that night, because it would prove a storm; but the Prince was anxious to quit danger, and, being determined, he would go.

               They had not gone far before the storm began, and was as great as Donald had ever seen on that coast, with an additional grief, that it rained as if a deluge was approaching; and what was still worse, they had neither pump nor compass, the night was as dark as pitch, and they knew not where they were. This increased their fears, lest they should be driven on the Isle of Skye, where the militia were in arms; but the morning light appearing, they found themselves on the coast of Long Isle, (as that chain of isles is commonly called here) where, about seven o'clock in the morning, with great difficulty, they landed at a point, called Rushness, in the NE part of the isle of Benbecula, and hauled their boat on dry land; having run thirty leagues in eight hours: a most extraordinary quick passage.[2]

            Thus this storm, which the whole crew thought a great misfortune at first, turned to be one of the most providential things that could happen; but so wanton is the frailty of human nature, that we often find fault with that which Providence sees best for us; for this storm prevented any immediate attempt to pursue the Prince, and all the boats that were out with such views, were forced to put into land; as nothing but the immediate hand of providence could support this open boat, against such weather; which looked to the boatmen, as miraculous as the escape of Jonas out of the whale’s belly. Very luckily for the Prince, it was thought he had sailed for St Kilda in the north; a place so remote, that no suspicion could be readily entertained of his being there.[3]

            It being imagined that the Prince was gone to St Kilda, General Campbell, with a considerable force, was ordered to pursue him there.

            On the sight of the fleet of Campbell’s, the inhabitants fled to hide themselves in cliffs of rocks, being terrified, having never seen such a fleet, or sight, before.

            Some of the forces being landed, inquired of such of the inhabitants as they could find, what was become of the Pretender? They answered, “they had never heard of such a name, or such a man. They said, indeed, they heard a report that their laird (MacLeod) had lately been at war with a great woman, a great way abroad, but that he had got the better of her; and that was all they knew of the affairs of the world[4].” So the General made a fruitless expedition.

            The Prince here (in Benbecula,) got on shore into an uninhabited hut, and helped to make a fire to warm the crew, who were almost perishing with cold and wet. This storm continued for nearly fourteen hours after they landed.

            Here the Prince bought a cow for 30s. and immediately shot her, and had some of her boiled in the pot which Donald MacLeod had bought for them. After which the Prince lay down on the floor, having no other bed than an old sail cloth, and slept very sound; but the crew were obliged to keep a good look-out, by regular watches.

            They stayed two nights in this place, and on the 29th, in the evening, the weather growing favorable, they set sail about six o’clock, for Stornoway, in the isle of Lewis, in N. lat 58 d. 8 m., where Donald MacLeod did not doubt but he should be able to procure a proper vessel to convey the Prince safe to France. They took some of their beef with them, and set sail, but meeting with another storm, they were obliged to put in to the isle of Scalpa, or Glass, near the Harris, belonging to the laird of MacLeod, which is about fourteen leagues N. of Benbecula[5].

            Here, they all went on shore about two hours, before daylight on the 30th, in the morning, and passed for merchants shipwrecked in their voyage to the Orkneys; the Prince and Sullivan going by the name of Sinclair; the latter for the father, and the former for the son; and were all entertained at one Donald Campbell’s house, a farmer.

  The next day, May 1st, Donald MacLeod, so often mentioned, procuring a boat of their landlord, Campbell, went to Stornoway, with instructions to freight a vessel for the Orkneys.

            On the 3rd of May, the Prince received a message from MacLeod, that a ship was ready; whereupon he, next day, got another boat with four men, and landed at Loch Shefort in McKennin’s country, where Allan MacLeod took his leave, and went for South Uist.

            The Prince having then O’Neil, Sullivan, and his guide with him, set out on foot for Stornoway, which is about thirty miles by land, and arrived at the point of Ayrnish, about half a mile S.E. from Stornoway, on the 5th, about noon: having travelled eighteen hours on the hills, in a wet stormy night, without any kind of refreshment, and were misled by their guide, either through ignorance or design, having conducted them eight miles out of the way, when they might have avoided that trouble, by crossing the Ferry from Scalpa to the Harris, which is about a quarter of a mile over. This, though they then thought it a misfortune, proved to be the very providential means of preventing the Prince from being taken, which, had they arrived there sooner, would have been the case, as we shall see presently.

            From this place, the Prince sent his guide to Donald MacLeod at Stornoway, desiring he would send some brandy, bread, and cheese, for they were almost starved and famished. The faithful Donald soon brought it himself to the Prince and his two companions on the moor, all wet to the skin, and much wearied with their journey. Whereupon Donald took them to Lady Kildun’s (MacKenzie) at Ayrnish, to wait there till everything should be ready for setting sail; while the Prince being wearied, went to sleep.

  This done, Donald MacLeod returned to Stornoway, but was greatly surprised to find the men there rising in arms, above 200 having already got up. Donald, not knowing what was the occasion of this rising, went directly into the room, where the gentlemen were, and asked, “what was the matter?” on which they immediately began to curse him, saying, “We hear the Prince is upon the Lewis, and not far from Stornoway, coming with 500 men, to burn the town, and take away our cattle, &c. and to force a vessel from Stornoway, to carry him to France.” Donald replied, “I think you are all mad, where the devil could the Prince, in his present condition, get either 500 or 100 men?” They replied, “That Mr. John MacAulay, a Presbyterian minister in South Uist, had wrote this to his father in the Harris; and the father had sent the same to Mr. MacKenzie , minister in the Lewis[6].” -- “Well, then,” says Donald, “since you know the Prince is already in the island, I own he is; but he is so far from having any forces, that he has only two companions, and when I am there, I make a third; and let me tell you further, Gentlemen, if Seaforth himself were here, he durst not, by G-d, put a hand to the Prince’s breast.”

            Upon this, the MacKenzies declared that they had no intention to do the Prince the least harm; but desired, that he might leave them and go to the continent or anywhere else. The wind being fair, Donald MacLeod then desired a pilot; but they refused. Donald then returned to the Prince, and gave him a full and honest account how matters stood; on which they were all at a loss what step to take. Some proposed to fly to the moor; but the Prince replied, he would not; “I’ll stand my ground (said he,) for if we fly, our enemies may be encouraged to pursue.”

            Now the reader may observe, that had not the Prince been taken eight miles out of the way by the guide, he would have been in the town of Stornoway, when Mr. McAulay’s letter to Mr. Colin MacKenzie  arrived, and then the people would have risen upon him, and have either killed him in their fury, or taken him prisoner; from both of which he was thus very providentially saved.

            At this time, the Prince, O’Neil, and Sullivan, had only six shirts amongst them, and were frequently obliged to strip off the dirty ones before the others were half dry.

            Two of the four boatmen had fled up to the moor, upon seeing the people rising at Stornoway; and the other two went to the sea with the boat.

            While they were at Lady Kildun’s, they killed a cow, for which the Prince would have paid, but she at first refused, till the Prince insisted upon it. When they left the place, they took some of the cow with them, two pecks of meal, and plenty of brandy and sugar; and at parting, Lady Kildun gave Edward Burke a lump of butter[7].

            They stayed here all night, about two o’clock in the morning, being the 6th of May, the two boatmen returned with the boat; and as soon as daylight appeared they all rowed away, with only two boatmen, the rest not returning from the moor.

            The Prince and company resolved to go in Donald Campbell’s boat to the Orkneys, but the men would not venture; so they were obliged to steer south along the coast side, hoping to meet with better success. They soon espied two English ships, which obliged them to put into a desert island, called Euirn or Iffurt, half a mile both in length and breadth. It is twelve miles distant from Stornoway, and lies a little north of Scalpa, or Glass.

            At this place there were some fishermen, who, taking the Prince’s boat to be a press-boat belonging to the men of war, ran away, leaving their fish, pots, &c. the fishermen of Lewis dry their fish upon the rocks; some of it, which the Prince and company found, was a great feast. The Prince, at first, was for leaving some money when he took the fish; but considering that would show that some person of note had been there, it might be attended with bad consequences, he took the money again.

            They stayed on this island until the 10th, lying in a low pitiful hut, belonging to the fishermen, so ill roofed that they were obliged to spread the boat’s sail over the top of it, and lie upon the bare floor, keeping watch by turns.

            On the 10th of May, about ten o’clock in the forenoon, they embarked for Harris, taking about two dozen of fish with them, and got to Scalpa, or Glass, to their hospitable farmer’s again. In this place they offered money for a boat, it being safer and better than the one they had, but could not get it. Wind not serving, they were obliged to row.

            About day-break, on the11th, the wind rising, they hoisted sail; and being short of food, made drammack (stappack,) of salt water mixed with meal, of which the Prince ate heartily, and got a bottle of brandy, and helped a dram to each person.

            Soon after this, they were chased by an English ship, commanded by Captain Ferguson; but they escaped among the rocks, at the point of Roudil, in Harris MacLeod’s country. The ship followed them three leagues. They kept close on shore, and sailed to Lochmaddy, to the south of the Uist, next to Lochniskiway, in Benbecula, and then to an island in that loch, called Loch-Escaby, where they arrived about four in the afternoon.

            In this voyage they were within two musketshot of the ship, before they saw her, at Finslay in the Harris. They were to the windward, and the ship was in the mouth of the bay, so they made all the haste they could to the coast of Benbecula. In this course, they saw another ship in Lochmaddy, in North Uist. They had scarce got on shore when the wind very remarkably turned quite contrary, and blew and rained very hard, which drove the ships that were pursuing, quite off. At this the Prince said, “I see I must now escape; I now see that Providence will not let me be taken alive at this time.”

            It being now low water, one of the boatmen went among the rocks and caught a partan, or crab fish, which he held up to the Prince in great joy; who taking a cog, or wooden pail, in his hand, went and partook in the diversion which soon filled their cog.

            There was no house, cottage, or hut, nearer than two miles, and that only a poor one; however, when they set out, the Prince took up the cog full of partans, and marched away with it; but the faithful Donald MacLeod ran after him and desired to carry it, which he refused, saying, “If I carry this, Donald, every one of the company will take more or less of our baggage, and then it will be more equally divided amongst us; therefore I will not part with this, for I am better able to carry it than you;” and accordingly he carried it.

            When they came to the hut, it was so low that they were obliged to creep into it upon their hands and knees; therefore Edward Burke was ordered to work part of the ground away about the door, to make the entrance easier.

            At this hut, the laird of Clanranald, went to pay his respects to the Prince, and promised his assistance to get him safe out of the kingdom; towards which his lady afterwards assisted, for she sent the Prince six good shirts, some brandy and wine, and everything else that was necessary and comfortable.

            On the 16th, it was thought proper that the Prince should remove from this nasty hut, and go sixteen miles farther in the country, as far as the mountain of Durradale or Corradale, in South Uist, and there wait till fortune was more favourable; having first sent Donald MacLeod, in Campbell’s boat, to the continent of Scotland, with letters to Lochiel, and John Murray, the secretary, to know how affairs stood, and to bring cash and brandy to the Prince.

            Donald met Lochiel and Murray at the head of Loch Arkaig, but got no money at all from Murray who said, “he had none to give, for that he had only sixty louis d’ors for himself.”

            Having received the answers from Lochiel and Murray, with great difficulty he purchased two anchors of brandy, at one guinea each anchor. “At this time (says Donald) the Prince looked upon Murray as one of his honest, firm friends; but, alas! He was mistaken.”

            Donald immediately returned, and found the Prince at Corradale, where he left him, having been eighteen days away upon this expedition; but found him in a better hut, with two cowhides placed upon sticks to prevent the rain from falling upon him when asleep. During Donald MacLeod’s absence, the Prince diverted and supported himself and company, with hunting, shooting, and fishing, for he used often to go down to the foot of the hill upon the shore, and there go on board a small boat, which was rowed a little way, and then with handlines caught lyths, somewhat like a young cod; and he used also to shoot deer, and other game.

            It is surprising to think, that the Prince could be kept safe above three weeks in such a place, when upwards of 100 people knew where he was, and his enemies were daily out upon the scout on all sides. Both Clanranald and his brother Boisdale saw the Prince at Corradale.

            The militia, about this time, went to the island of Itaski, lying between the islands of Barra and South Uist, which is about three miles long and one broad, and was the first British ground Ascanius landed on. The militia, I say, having got thither, obliged him and his company to think of parting and shifting their quarters.

            On the 14th of June, the Prince, O’Neil, Sullivan, Edward Burke, and Donald MacLeod, sailed from the foot of Corradale in Campbell’s boat, and landed in Ouia or Fovaya, an island lying between South Uist and Benbecula.

            Here they stayed four nights, and on the 18th, the Prince, O’Neil, and a guide, went to Rushness, and Sullivan and MacLeod were left in Ouia. Here the Prince stayed two nights, and then receiving information that the militia were coming towards Benbecula, it was necessary to get back again to the foot of Corradale. But he scarce knew what to do, as the militia boats had been some time between Ouia and Rushness. Donald MacLeod and Sullivan, hearing of this, set sail in the night, and brought the Prince from Rushness to Corradale again; but meeting with a violent storm, and heavy rain, they were forced into Ushness point, two miles and a half off Corradale, called Achkirsideallish, a rock upon the shore, in a cleft of which they took up their quarters. This storm lasted a whole day.

            At night, finding their enemies within two miles of them, they sailed again, and arrived safely at Celiestiella; from whence they steered for Loch Boisdale, till a man of board swore there was a long-boat before them in their way, no doubt full of marines, and would go no farther, although Donald MacLeod was positive to the contrary, assuring them, that it was nothing but a little rock in the water, which he knew very well, that had the appearance of a boat at a distance; yet the sailors would not believe him, and returned to Celiestiella, where they stayed that night, and got next day to Loch Boisdale. There they got the disagreeable news of Boisdale’s being made a prisoner, &e. When they first set out, from Corradale for Loch-Boisdale, they espied three sail within cannon shot of the shore, by day-break, and therefore were obliged to return back again to Celiestiella, in South Uist.

            One day, as the Prince was sailing up and down Loch-Boisdale, Donald MacLeod asked him, “If he once got the crown, what he would do with Sir Alexander MacDonald, and the Laird of MacLeod?” “O, Donald! (said the Prince), would they not be our own people still, let them now do what they will! What they have done, is not all to be imputed to their fault; but it is altogether owing to the power President Forbes has over their judgments in these matters. Besides, continues he, if ever the kingdom was restored, we should be as sure of them for friends, as the other people are now; they being always for those in most power. I blame, indeed, (said the Prince) young MacLeod much more than his father, for he was introduced to me in France, and solemnly promised me all the service in his power; which he, as a gentleman, should not have done, when he did not resolve to perform it, as I now see plainly.”

            While they were here, Donald MacLeod espied two sail, which they took for French ships but they proved to be English men of war; which, however, gave them no trouble. The Prince, having rested some days, found himself in a most desperate situation, for he got intelligence that Captain Caroline Scott had landed at Kilbride, within less than two miles of him. This obliged him to part from his constant attendants, Sullivan, faithful Donald MacLeod, his guide Burke, and all the boat’s crew; keeping only O’Neil. Two shirts was all their baggage.

            When he parted with Donald MacLeod, there was an appointment to meet again at a certain place, by different ways. Donald went south about, and all the rest left the Prince, except O’Neil; upon which he was obliged to sink the boat, and shift as well as he could for himself. The others, after parting with the Prince, stayed in the fields two nights, having only the sails of the boat for a cover. On the third night, they went farther into the Loch, and rested thereabout for other two nights, until they got sight of some of the red coats, which forced them to the north side of the Loch.

            On the 5th of July, Donald MacLeod was taken prisoner, by Allan MacDonald of Knock, a lieutenant, at Slate, in the isle of Skye; he at the same time took MacDonald of the family of Glenaladale, and Mr. Forrest, a Romish priest. They were carried from place to place, and at last to Applecrossbay, in the isle of Skye; and there put on board the Furnace, Captain Ferguson. Donald MacLeod was immediately carried into the cabin to General Campbell, who examined him very circumstantially.

            The General asked him, if he had been along with the young Pretender? “Yees,” (said Donald) “I winna denee it” -- “Do you know,” (said the General) what money was upon that gentleman’s head? No less than £30,000 sterling, man! Which would have made you and your family happy forever.” “And who then, mon?” replied Donald, “what, and thoff e’ed ha gotten it, I would not had enjoied it for twa days; an coud ee? Conscience, mon, conscience would ha goten the better o’ma, and that it wou’d; altoff e’ed ha goten as England and Scotland for ma pains, I wou’d not allow a hair of his head to be toach’d, an ee cou’d heender it, since he threw his leefe upon ma, mon!” The General could not avoid admiring Donald’s honour and generosity, and his contempt of gold, when put in competition with his virtue.

            Donald was conveyed on board a ship to Tilbury Fort, and thence removed to London, and at last was discharged out of a messenger’s hands, (where he had been a little time,) on the 10th of June, 1747, which, he said, he would ever after celebrate as the day of his deliverance.

            Burke, after parting from the Prince, went over North Strand, or North Uist, where he skulked in a hill called Eval, for near seven weeks; twenty days of which he had not any meat, except dulse and lammocks, a kind of shell-fish.

            About this time a paper had been read in all the kirks, strictly forbidding all persons to give a morsel of meat to any rebel, upon severe religious penalties. Thus the place appointed to preach the doctrine of Christ, was prostituted to quite contrary purposes, vis. forbidding to feed the hungry, or cloth the naked, &c. “If these are now the kirk tenets, their loyalty is much mended; and their religion grown worse.” After various distresses, occasioned chiefly by this order, he at last was obliged to hide himself in a cave, in North Uist, where he was fed by a shoemaker and his wife in the night; and, after various troubles, is now safe in Edinburgh, by virtue of the general act of grace.

            Donald MacLeod says, “that the Prince never slept above three or four hours at a time, and in the morning calling for a chopin, or a quart of water, he drank it off with a few drops out of a little bottle; this he also put into everything that he drank.”

            Thus far, reader, this account was taken from the journals, and from the mouths of both Donald MacLeod and Edward Burke, in Scotland. The Prince having only O’Neil with him, now retired to the mountains, where he lay that night, June the 18th. Next day he received the information, that General Campbell was at Bernary, an island about two miles long and one broad, lying between North Uist and the Harris, belonging to the MacLeods.

            The Prince had military forces now on both the land sides of him, and the sea on the other, without any kind of vessel to venture out with.

            In this perplexity, O’Neil thought proper to apply to a young lady, called Flora MacDonald, who was at her brother’s at Milton, in South Uist, upon a visit from the isle of Skye; here O’Neil, having some little acquaintance with this young lady, proposed to her to assist the Prince to escape from thence[8].

            O’Neil, on desiring this lady go with him to the Prince, to concert what was best to be done, she objected to it with specious reasons; but O’Neil convincing her, that the Prince’s situation would not admit either of his coming to her, or of any long delay, she at last complied, and taking her faithful servant, Neil MacEachan, with her, she accompanied O’Neil to the Prince, where everything necessary was concerted, and Miss promised to use her utmost to put their scheme in execution, in case another method failed, which she had laid for them, and then returned to Milton again. O’Neil promised immediately to get about what was proposed, and to let her know the answer; he did try, but could not bring it to bear; so he went to Milton to acquaint Miss MacDonald thereof, who sent him back to the Prince with a message.

            Pursuant to the plan then laid down, Miss Flora set forward on Saturday, June 21st, for Clanranald’s house, to get things necessary for the Prince’s disguise, &c. In going to cross one of the fords, she and her man, Neil MacEachan, were taken prisoners by a party of militia, because she had no passport. She demanded to see their leader; but being told he would not be there until next morning, she asked what his name was? And finding he was her own stepfather, she chose to stay there all night, until he should arrive next day, rather than answer their questions. She was then carried into the guard-room, and kept a prisoner till relieved by her stepfather, who arrived next day, June 22nd, and was not a little surprised to see Miss Flora in custody.

            Miss MacDonald took him aside, told him what she was about, and desired a passport for herself, her man MacEachan, and for one Betty Burke, a woman who was a good spinner; and as her mother had a great quantity of lint to spin, she also desired a letter to recommend Betty Burke to her, all of which her stepfather consented to; and then she proceeded on her journey to Clanranald’s house, where she acquainted Lady Clanranald with the design, who was ready to give all the assistance in her power.

            Here she stayed till Friday the 27th, during which time, O’Neil passed and repassed several times, with messages betwixt the Prince, Lady Clanranald and her. The time set being come, Lady Clanranald (another MacDonald), Miss Flora, and her man MacEachan, conducted by O’Neil, went to the Prince, eight miles distant, and carried with them a new dress, and some other things, to serve him in his voyage; particularly, part of a bottle of white wine, being all that the military had left Clanranald. This the Prince took special care of, and would not taste one drop of it, but preserved it for his female guide.

            When they arrived, they found the Prince in a little hut, cheerfully roasting and dressing dinner, which was the heart, liver, and kidneys of a sheep, upon a wooden spit.

  O’Neil introduced them to the Prince. They were overpowered with compassion and sorrow, until the Prince cheered them with an affable piece of mirth, and with a contempt of his sufferings, saying, “The wretched today may be happy tomorrow;” and growing serious, said, “All great men would be the better to feel a little of what I do.” They dined, and at table the Prince placed Miss Flora on the right, and Lady Clanranald on his left hand; the rest of the company sat by chance, ate very heartily, and he smoked a pipe with them.

            Next morning they heard of General Campbell’s arrival at Benbecula; and soon after, a servant come in great hurry to Lady Clanranald, and acquainted her, “That Captain Fergusson, with an advanced party of Campbell’s men, was at her house; and that the captain lay in her bed last night.”

            This obliged her to return immediately; so, after taking leave of the Prince, she set forward to her own house, where Fergusson examined her very strictly: “Where have you been, Madam?” says he. She answered, “To see a child that had been sick, and is now better again.” The Captain asked many more questions, such as, “Where this child was? How far it was off from thence[9]? &c.”

            Lady Clanranald and the other MacDonald being gone, Miss Flora bid the Prince prepare, for it was time to go; on which O’Neil begged hard to go with them, but Miss Flora would on no account consent, because there would be too many of them together, and they might, therefore, be the more taken notice of; so the Prince and he took leave of each other in an affectionate manner.

            The company being gone, Miss Flora desired the Prince to put on his new attire, which being soon done, they, with their crew, removed their quarters near the water-side, where the boat was afloat, to be ready, in case of any sudden attack from the shore.

            They arrived in a very wet condition, and made a fire upon a piece of rock, to keep themselves warm until night. They had not been long there, when they were alarmed by four wherries, full of armed men, approaching towards the shore. At this sight, they extinguished their fire, and concealed themselves in the heather, or ling; but their fears soon vanished, for the wherries sailed quietly by, to the southward, within gun-shot of them.

            On the 28th of June, about eight o’clock in the evening, they set out in very clear weather; but had not gone above a league, before the sea became very rough and tempestuous. The Prince, finding Miss and the sailors beginning to be uneasy of their situation, sung them several highland songs, among others, an old song made for the 29th of May. By this, and some merry stories, he contrived to keep up their spirits.

  Next morning, though it was clear and calm, the boatmen knew not where they were, the wind having varied several times in the night; however, they made a point of Waternish, in the west corner of Skye, where they tried to land, but found the place possessed by a body of forces, who had also three boats, or yawls, near the shore, and several men of war were in sight. A man, on board of one of these boats, fired at the Prince and crew to make them bring to. They rowed off; but would have been taken, had it not been providentially very calm, the ships at some distance, and the militia on shore not being able to stir for the want of their oars, which were hawled up and flung in the line by the crew, who were scampering up and down; but, however, they sent up to alarm the people in a small town not far off. In consequence of the night storm, Miss Flora was so fatigued, that she fell asleep on the bottom of the boat. The Prince observing it, covered her, to save her as much as he could from the cold; and sat by her least anything should hurt her, or lest any of the boatmen, in the dark, should step upon her; but the sea being so rough, she could not sleep long.

            They got safe into a creek, or cliff, in a rock, and there remained to rest the men, who had been all night at work, and also to get some refreshment; however, as soon as they could, they set forward again, lest the alarm given to the village should bring down the people upon them, which would have been the case had they stayed, for they had not gone far, before they observed the people approaching to the place they had so lately quitted.

            From this place they went and landed at Kilbride, in Troternish, in the isle of Skye, about twelve miles north from the above-mentioned point. In this neighbourhood there were also several militia in search of the Prince, whose commanding officer was at Sir Alexander MacDonald’s, the very house Miss Flora was going to; but she did not know the officer was there until she saw him.

            At the boat Miss MacDonald left the Prince, and went with her man to Mogstod, or Mungestod, the seat of Sir Alexander MacDonald; but he was not at home, being then with the Duke of Cumberland. She sent into the room to Lady Margaret (Sir Alexander’s lady) to let her know she was come, having before apprized my lady of her errand, by a lady who went a little before her for that purpose.

            She was soon introduced into the room where the company were, amongst whom was the commanding officer of the forces in that neighbourhood; who, after some time, asked her “Whence she came? Which rout she was going? And what news she heard?” &c. all which she answered as she thought proper, and very readily, so that he had not the least suspicion, at that time, of what she was about, especially as he saw, when she went away, that she had only one servant with her, who he was certain could not be the Prince.

            Miss Flora having told Lady Margaret where she had left the Prince, and the situation he was in, my lady was at a loss what to do; but as Mr. MacDonald of Kingsborough, Sir Alexander’s steward, or factor, was in the house, she applied to him, and desired he would conduct the Prince to Kingsborough; which he readily complied with, and sent a boy down to the boat, with instructions to show the Prince to a place about a mile distant from the boat, whither he himself would go, and be there ready to attend him. The boy went off directly, and Kingsborough taking some wine and other refreshments for the Prince, soon after set out for the place of rendezvous, leaving Miss Flora with Lady Margaret.

            When Miss Flora thought the Prince and Kingsborough might be got to some distance, she then made a motion to go, and ordered out her horses directly; but Lady Margaret pressed her strongly, before the officer, to stay, telling her, at the same time, “That she (Miss Flora) had promised to stay the next time she came, when last there;” but she begged her Ladyship to excuse her this one time, because, says she, “ I have been some time away, and my mother is not very well, and entirely alone in these troublous times.” At last she excused her; but only upon renewing her former promise to make amends the next time she went thither; which was very willingly complied with.

            Everything being ready, Miss Flora and her man, Mrs. MacDonald aforementioned and her man and made, all set forward. They had not gone far before they overtook the Prince and Kingsborough. Mrs. MacDonald was very desirous of seeing the Prince’s face, which he as carefully avoided, by turning it to the opposite side; but, however, she had several opportunities of seeing it, though much disguised.

            Mrs. MacDonald’s maid could not keep her eyes off the Prince, and said to Miss Flora, “Ma think ay neer saw such an impudent looken woman, or a mon in womon’s cleathes.” Miss Flora replied, “She was an Irishwoman, for she knew her and had seen her before.” “Bless me, (quoth the maid), what long straides the jade takes, and how awkwardly she warks her petticoats, &c.! I believe those Eirish women could faight as well as the men.”

            Miss Flora, not liking the maid’s observations, and knowing they were near the place where the Prince and Kingsborough were to turn out of the common road, and that it was not proper to let Mrs. MacDonald’s man and maid-servant see which rout they and Kingsborough took, she called out to Mrs. MacDonald to ride faster, for, says she, we shall be late out: this was complied with, and they soon lost sight of the two on foot, who turned out of the common road, to avoid the militias, and went over the hills S.S.E. till they arrived at Kingsborough house, which was about eleven o’clock at night, on Sunday, June the 29th, in a very wet condition, having had much rain, and walking seven long miles. Miss Flora arrived about the same time along the highway, having parted with Mrs. MacDonald, and her man and maid servant.

            O’Neil, after parting from the Prince and Miss Flora, went and met Sullivan, who was yet upon the island. About two days after the Prince and O’Neil had parted, a French cutter, having 120 men on board, went to the isle of South Uist, intending to carry off the Prince, who, they were informed, was there. Sullivan went immediately on board, while O’Neil went back for the Prince, hoping to overtake him before he and Miss Flora should leave the island; but O’Neil finding the Prince had left the island two days before, returned to the place where he had left the cutter; but, unhappily for him, the vessel was gone almost three hours before, for the timorous Sullivan, having a fair wind, had not courage to stay for the Prince and O’Neil, but set sail directly, to save one precious life, and left the Prince and O’Neil to their good master, Providence. There were two small wherries, just within sight, which might indeed, in some measure, excuse the hen-hearted Sullivan, both the wherries being filled with armed men, and were sent out by an English officer after this cutter, but could not get to her.

            O’Neil was soon after taken prisoner, but being a foreign officer, was only a prisoner of war; he was put on board a man of war, where, in a little time after, he saw Miss Flora a prisoner also, for doing what he had been the instrument of bringing about. He was afterwards conveyed to Berwick-upon-Tweed, and, after some time, sent home, according to the cartel.

  But to return to Ascanius, he soon got to Kingsborough’s house. Mrs. MacDonald, not expecting her husband home at that time of the night, was undrest and just going to bed, when one of her maid-servants went up and told her, “That Kingsborough was returned, and had brought some company, with Milton’s daughter, I believe,” says the maid, “and some company with her.” “Milton’s daughter is very welcome here, with any company she pleases to bring; make my compliments to her, and tell her to be free with anything in the house; but I am sleepy and undrest, and cannot see her to night.”

            In short time Kingsborough’s daughter went up, in as great hurry as surprise, crying out, “Mamma, mamma, my father has brought heether a very odd, muckle, ill shapen up waife, as eever ay saa; nay, and has taken her unto the hall too.”

            She had scarce said this, before Kingsborough himself came into the room, and desired his wife to dress again, as fast as she could, and get such meat as they had ready for supper. -- “Who have you with you,” says she? “You shall know that in good time, only make haste.” She then desired her daughter to go and fetch the keys, which she had left in the hall. The girl went and soon came back again in a great hurry, and said, “Mamma, mamma, I canna gang een for the keyes; because the muckle woman is walken up and down the hall, and I am afraid of her.” Mrs. MacDonald then went herself, but was so frightened, as she said, “at seeing such a muckle trollop of a carling make sike long streeds through the hall, that she did not like her appearance;” but then she desired her husband to fetch them; but he would not; so she was obliged to go herself.

            When she went into the room, Ascanius was sitting, but he got up immediately, and saluted her. She then began to tremble, having found a rough beard, imagining it was some distressed nobleman, or gentleman, in disguise, but never dreamed who it was. She therefore went directly out of the room, with the keys in her hand, to her husband, without saying one word, and greatly importuned Kingsborough to tell her who it was; and if he could tell anything of what was become of the Prince. Kingsborough smiled, and told her, “My dear, it is the Prince.” -- “The Prince!” cried she, “then we are a’ruined, we will a’be hanged now.” -- “Hute,” cried he, “we will die but once, and if we hanged for this, we die in’a good cause, doing only an act of humanity and charity; but go make haste with supper, bring us eggs, butter, cheese, and whatever else is ready.” -- “Eggs, butter and cheese,” quoth she, -- “what a supper is that for a Prince.” “Oh wife! (replied he) you little know how he has lived of late; this will be a feast to him; besides to make a formal supper, would make the servants suspect something; the less ceremony, therefore, the better; make haste and come to supper yourself” -- “I come to supper,” says she, “I know not how to behave before majesty.” -- “You must come,” replied Kingsborough, “for the Prince will not eat one bit without you; and you’ll find it no difficult matter to behave before him, so obliging and easy is he in conversation.”

            I hope the reader will excuse me, for giving this dialogue in their own words; not being able to give a better idea of the figure the Prince must have made, and of the distress he was in, than in their own way of expression.

            At supper, the Prince placed Miss Flora at his right hand, always paying her the greatest respect wherever she was, and always rising up whenever she entered the room, and Mrs. MacDonald at his left. He made a plentiful supper, eating four eggs, some collips, bread and butter; he drank two bottles of beer at supper, and then calling for a bumper of brandy, he drank “health and prosperity to his landlord and landlady, and better times to us all;” and after supper, smoked a pipe. He smoked for society, and kept the same pipe till it was as black as ink, and worn, or broken to the very stump. After drinking a few glasses of wine, and finishing their pipes, the Prince went to bed.

            When the Prince and Kingsborough, were going from Mongstod to Kingsborough, the Prince said, he proposed going to the laird of MacLeod’s, as bring a place the government people would not suspect; but Kingsborough would not agree to that, and gave some of his reasons to support his opinion: “What,” says the Prince, “do you think that MacLeod, to his former doings, would add that of thirsting after my blood?” -- “I am not certain of that,” replied Kingsborough, “but I have received a letter from the laird of MacLeod, wherein he desires me to deliver you up, if you should fall into my way; and says, I should thereby do a service to my country.” The Prince thereupon dropt that project and said, “I hope MacLeod will live to see his mistake.” Some time after this, the laird of MacLeod asked for the letter again; but Kingsborough absolutely refused to give it to him, and farther said, “he would keep that to show what part MacLeod had acted.”

            Kingsborough, amongst other things, asked the Prince, “If he looked upon George Murray to have acted a treacherous part?” he said “he hoped not.”

            Kingsborough also said to him, he could not remember or conceive, what it was that brought him that day to Mongstod, (Sir Alexander’s house) for he had no manner of business there, nor owed any visit. “I will tell you,” said the Prince, “you could not avoid going, for I have been the particular care of Providence, and that sent you hither to save me; there being no other person decreed to do it.”

            After the Prince was gone to bed, Mrs. MacDonald desired Miss Flora to relate his adventures, as far as she knew of them; which she did. And when she had concluded her story, Mrs. MacDonald asked her, “What was become of the boatmen who brought them to that island?” She replied, “they went back again directly for South Uist.” -- “That was wrong,” says Mrs. MacDonald, “for you should have kept them on this side for some time, at least till he had got farther from his pursuers.”

            As Mrs. MacDonald conjectured, so it proved, for the boatmen were immediately seized on their return, and being threatened with torture or death, both which are absolutely against our law, but is frequently the case, when people are ruled by those they pay. By these threats of torture, I say, the men revealed all they knew, and gave a description of the gown, with purple sprigs thickly stamped, and a white apron. This thought of her’s determined Miss Flora to desire him to change his dress; which he agreed to, not being willing to march any farther in that dress, having found it so troublesome the day before.

            This great feast which the Prince had got, being the most material refreshment he had met with for a long time, agreed so well with him, that he slept nine or ten hours without interruption; whereas, in general, he seldom took above three or four to rest.

            As morning advanced, Miss Flora began to be afraid, lest, by lying too long, he should give his enemies time to overtake him; she therefore desired Kingsborough to go into his room, and call him up. He, after much persuasion, went; but finding him in so sound a sleep, would not awaken him, and retired quietly out of the room again; but everything being soon after ready for his journey, Miss Flora insisted that Kingsborough should again call him up, with which he complied; and having awakened the Prince, asked him, “How he had rested?” the Prince answered, “Never better; for I thought I never lay on so good a bed; and, to tell the truth, I had almost forgot what a bed was.”

            Although the Prince was to change his dress, it was thought necessary to leave the house in the same habit he arrived, that in case of a pursuit, it would prevent anyone from describing the dress he travelled in. When he was dressed, they came into his chamber, and put on his apron and cap. Before Miss Flora put on the cap, Mrs. MacDonald desired her, in Erse[10], to ask for a lock of his hair, which she refused to do, saying, “Cannot you ask him yourself?” He, finding they were disputing about something, desired to know it, and when Mrs. MacDonald told him her request, he immediately granted it; and laying his head on Miss Flora’s lap, bade her cut a lock off, which she did, giving Mrs. MacDonald one half, and keeping the other herself.

            The Prince being dressed, cried, “A lusty wench this is;” he then got his breakfast, and taking leave of his landlady, he and Kingsborough, with a bundle of Highland clothes under his arm, went to a wood not far from Kingsborough house, and there he changed his dress. This being done, he took Kingsborough in his arms, bade him a long adieu, and in a most affectionate manner thanked him for his services, and assured him he would never forget them; saying, Who knows, Kingsborough, but you and I may drink a pot of porter together after all this: then they both wept, and a few drops of blood fell from the Prince’s nose. Kingsborough sent a guide with him to Portree, or Partree, that is in Erse, Port Ree, Kingsport, through all the byeways, while Miss Flora went on horseback by another road, thereby the better to gain intelligence, and to prevent a discovery. This place is seven long miles from Kingsborough’s house. The gown the Prince had on was a linen and cotton, having a white ground, with purple coloured flowers.

            Kingsborough had sent before, to procure a boat and everything else necessary towards the Prince’s escape. The Prince being arrived safe here, again met his female guide; this was the last time they saw each other. Miss Flora and he were both very wet, and stayed no longer there than to dry their clothes, and to get what little refreshment the place afforded, which took up about two hours time. Here the Prince took leave of Miss Flora, returning here his sincere thanks for her kind assistance, and greatly lamented, that he had not a MacDonald to go on to the end, saying, “Well Miss Flora, I hope we yet shall be in a good coach and six before we die, though we be now on foot.”

            According to my plan hitherto, I shall give the remaining history of Kingsborough and Miss Flora, before I go any further with the Prince.

            About six or eight days after the Prince left Skye, Captain Fergusson followed him hard foot. From the boatmen, who were taken at their return to South Uist, he got an exact description of the gown and dress the Prince had on, pursued him to Sir Alexander MacDonald’s house, and there searched very strictly; hearing only of Miss Flora, he went to Kingsborough, and examined him, and his wife, and daughter.

            The Captain first found Kingsborough, and asked several questions, some of which he answered, and others he either would or could not, but told the Captain he would better ask his wife, who could give proper answers: Kingsborough, calling her, said, “That Captain Fergusson was come to ask some questions about her late guests.” “If Fergusson (says she) is to be my judge, then God have mercy on my soul.” Fergusson asked her, “Why she said so?” She replied, “Because the whole world say you are a very cruel hard-hearted man, and indeed I don’t like to go through such hands.” Fergusson then asked Kingsborough, “Where Miss Flora and the person in women’s clothes who was with her lay?” Kingsborough answered, “He knew where Miss Flora lay, but as for servants, he never asked any questions about them.”

            The Captain then asked Mrs. MacDonald, “Whether she laid the young pretender and Miss Flora in the same bed?” She answered, “Sir, whom you mean by the young pretender, I do not pretend to guess; but I can assure you, it is not the fashion in Skye, to lay the mistress and maid in the same bed together.” The Captain then desired to see the rooms where they lay? Which being shown; he remarked, that the room wherein the supposed maid-servant lay, was better than that wherein the mistress lay.

            Kingsborough was taken prisoner, and carried to Fort-Augustus; where he was plundered of his shoe buckles, garters, watch, and money; and in a few hours after, thrown into a dungeon, loaded with irons. While he was prisoner, one of the Captains of the English forces went to him, and asked, “if he would know the Prince’s head, if he saw it?” Kingsborough, trembling at the thought of him being murdered, said, “He could not engage for that, unless it was joined to the body.”

            Kingsborough was removed from thence to the Castle of Edinburgh, under a strong guard of Kingston’s light horse, who entered that city with trumpets and kettle drums; a thing not very common in such a case. He was at first put into the same room with Major MacDonald, Mr. George Moer, laird of Leckle, Mr. Thomas Ogilvie, and others; but was soon after removed into a room by himself, under a very close confinement. None were permitted to see him, except the officer upon guard, the sergeant, and keeper, which last was appointed to attend him as servant. He was kept until the act of grace, and then was discharged on the 4th of July, 1747, having been confined a year, for that one night’s lodging.

            Kingsborough was once discharged, whilst at Fort Augustus, by mistaking him for another of the same name; but Lord Albemarle, finding out the mistake, soon sent a party after him, who found him at Sir Alexander MacDonald’s, just going to bed. By this means he had an opportunity of hearing from Sir Alexander’s own mouth, what a rage a certain great officer was in when he found Kingsborough a prisoner at Fort-Augustus; throwing out horrid and shocking oaths and imprecations, for not securing the Prince, and swore “he would have him hanged at any rate.”

            Miss Flora, having taken leave of the Prince, left Portree immediately, and went to her mother at Slait; crossed the country, and had a very fatiguing journey; but she neither told her mother nor any other person, what she had been about.

            One MacLeod of Taliskar, an officer in one of the independent companies, desired one of the MacDonald’s, who lived four miles from Slait, to send for Miss Flora, in order to examine her about what had happened. Accordingly, about eight or nine days after she got home, a message came from this person, to go to his house as soon as she could.

            Miss Flora, being not a little suspicious of the design, thought proper to communicate to her friends what she had done, and consult them as to what she should do; upon which they advised her not to go, however, till next day; which she did accordingly.

            She had not gone far on the road, before she met her step-father returning home; to whom she told everything that had happened, from her leaving him in her way to Clanranald’s house to that time; what she was then about, and what she intended to say upon examination.

            She had not gone far, after parting from her step-father, when she was taken prisoner by an officer and a party of soldiers, who were going to her mother’s in search of her. They carried her immediately on board a ship, without suffering her either to go for her clothes and linen, or take leave of her friends.

            The vessel she was carried on board of, was the Furnace, Captain Fergusson, which put her under terrible apprehensions, on account of that Captain’s great repute for inhumanity and cruelty, which was spread throughout the whole country; but, lucky for her, General Campbell was on board, who gave strict orders to treat her with the utmost civility and respect; that she should have a maid servant, and one of the lieutenant’s cabins, to themselves, forbidding any person to go into it, without her leave or consent. This generosity I have heard Miss Flora often acknowledge.

            About three weeks after she was a prisoner, the ship being near her mother’s, General Campbell permitted her to go on shore to take leave of her friends, but in custody of two officers and a party of soldiers. However, she was not to speak any Erse, nor anything except what the officers heard; so she stayed about two hours, and then returned again to the ship.

            When she was taken prisoner, she, upon her examination, told that she had seen a great lusty woman, who came to the water-side as she was going into the boat, who told her she was a soldier’s wife, and was left on the island without friends, meat, or money, and asked a place in the boat that she might get to the continent of Scotland, to her husband; that she granted the request; and when they landed in Skye, she went directly to Sir Alexander MacDonald’s, and the lusty woman went her own way, thanking her for the favour. This story Miss Flora told; but when she got to General Campbell she was more candid, and acknowledged the whole truth to him.

            Miss Flora was removed on board Commodore Smith’s ship, where she was exceedingly well treated, for he was very polite to her; for which, at his request, while she was in London, she consented to sit for her picture. The ship was some time in Leith Roads, and she, after being conveyed from place to place, was at last, on November 27th, 1746, put on board the Royal Sovereign, lying at the Nore, whence, on the 6th of December following, she was removed to London, in custody of William Dick, a messenger, having been five months on ship-board. In this messenger’s custody, she remained until July 1747, when she was discharged, and returned to Edinburgh.

            This relation is taken from the remainder of O’Neil’s journal, and from the mouth of Kingsborough, his lady, and Miss Flora.

            Having concluded the history of Kingsborough and Miss MacDonald, I shall now return to the Prince.

            Kingsborough having sent to the laird of Raaza for his assistance, Captain Malcolm MacLeod, an officer under the Prince at the battle of Falkirk and Culloden, and Murdock MacLeod, third son of Raaza, who was wounded in the shoulder at Culloden, by a musket-shot, met the Prince at Portree in the isle of Skye, where Miss Flora left him.

            They stayed but a little time after their arrival, and then they attended the Prince to a small boat, wherein John MacLeod, the young laird of Raaza, waited very impatient to get a sight of the Prince. They set out immediately, there being in the boat, the Prince Captain Malcolm MacLeod, his guide; the young laird of Raaza; his brother Murdock; the two boatmen, viz. John MacKenzie , and Donald MacFrier, who had both been out in the Prince’s service, the one a sergeant, the other a private man. Early in the morning, on July 1st, they arrived safe at Glain, in Raaza, being six miles[11]. They stayed there two days and a half, in a mean low hut. Young Raaza brought a lamb and a kid in the corner of his plaid. They were obliged to lie on the bare ground, having only a little heath or ling for a pillow.

            A man came into this island to sell a roll of tobacco; but after he had sold the tobacco, he continued strolling up and down the island, in an idle way, for twelve or fourteen days, without having any apparent business, which made the people of the island suspect he was a spy.

            When the Prince and Malcolm were in the hut, the Captain saw this very man approaching towards them; on which Malcolm determined to shoot him. “No, Malcolm, (says the Prince, taking hold of him) God forbid, that any innocent man should suffer by us; if we cannot keep ourselves safe, let us not take that from any person which we cannot restore to him again; let us not dread more than we need; and, pray, let not fear make us do mischief;” and he would not allow the Captain to stir. Malcolm had the more reason to suspect this man to be a spy, because this hut was not near any road; but, however, luckily for the poor man, he passed by without offering once to look into it, which if he had attempted, Malcolm determined to have shot him, for their own preservation.

            On July the 3d, the Prince proposed going to Troternish in Skye, although it blew very hard, and having only the small boat above mentioned. They accordingly set forward about seven o’clock in the evening, the same company attending him.

            They had not gone far, before the wind blew harder, and the crew begged to return; but the Prince encouraged them, saying, “Cesarem vehis: Providence, my boys! That carried me through so many dangers, will no doubt preserve me for a nobler end than this,” and then sang them a merry Highland song. The waves washed very frequently into the boat, and Malcolm and the Prince took their turns in laving the water out.

            About eleven o’clock at night, they landed at a place in the island of Skye, called Nicholson’s Great Rock, near Scorebreck in Troternish, about ten miles from Glam in Raaza, or Raarsa. Though it was a bad landing, the Prince was the third man who jumped into the water, and helped to haul the boat to dry land.

            The Prince had on a riding coat, which being wet through, and the rock they were going up being very steep, Malcolm desired the Prince to let him carry it, but he would by no means consent, saying, “I am younger than you, Captain.” They travelled on to a byre, or cowhouse, belonging to one Nicholson, about two miles from Scorebreck.

            Here the Prince and company took up their quarters; and Malcolm would have had the Prince to put on a dry shirt, and take some sleep. He would not change his shirt, and sleep at last seized him, as he sat. He often started in his sleep, and sighing deep, said, “Ah, poor people! Poor people!”

            The Prince after some little time awaked, and finding Malcolm upon the watch, earnestly desired him to take some rest, but at that time he would not. The Prince renewing his entreaty again; the Captain thought he wanted to say something to the rest of the company in private, and went out for a little time.

            The two brothers, young Raaza and Murdock, and the boatmen, left the Prince here, and returned; the Prince promising to meet the younger at Camistinawag, another place in the same island.

            The Prince and Malcolm stayed here twenty hours, without any kind of refreshment, not even so much as a fire to dry their clothes at.

            On the 4th, about seven o’clock in the evening, they left the byre, the Captain passing for the master, and the Prince for the man, who always carried the little baggage whenever they saw any person, or came near any village; and then, whenever he spoke to the Captain, or the Captain to him, he always pulled off his bonnet.

            They marched all night through the worst ways in Europe, going over hills, wild moors, and glens, without halting, till they arrive at Ellagol, or rather Ellighill, near to Kilmaree, or Kilvory, in Strath, and near to a place some maps called Ord, in the laird of McKinnen’s country, not far from where the laird lived, having walked twenty-four miles.

            During their journey, the brandy bottle was near out, having only one dram left, which the Prince would force Malcolm to drink, declaring, “he wanted none himself.” This Malcolm complied with, and afterwards hid the bottle.

            On the road, the Prince said, “suppose Malcolm, we two should meet anybody who would attempt to kill or take us, what shall we do?” “That depends upon their numbers,” replied Malcolm, “if there be no more than four of them, I will engage to manage two.” “Then let me go if I do not manage the other two,” returned he; then observing to Malcolm, that his waistcoat was rather too good for a servant, being a scarlet tartan, with a gold twist button, proposed to change with him, which was accordingly done.

            As they were approaching near Strath, the Captain suggested to him, “that he was not coming to a country where he would be known, and might be discovered in any corner of it, as McKinnen’s men had been out in his service, and therefore he must be more disguised;” to do which, Ascanius tied on a napkin under his bonnet, putting his wig into his pocket; “but nothing,” says Malcolm, “could disguise his majestic mein and deportment.”

            They no sooner arrived in Strath, than they met two of McKinnen’s men, who had been out in the expedition; they stared at the Prince, soon knew him, and burst into tears on seeing him in such distress. The Captain hushed them, and bid them be composed, for otherwise they would discover all by their concern; which they complied with, as well as they could; and then, Malcolm enjoining them to secrecy, dismissed them. They proved faithful.

            Being come near the place resolved upon, Malcolm told Ascanius that he had a sister married to one John McKinnen, a captain in his army; and he advised him to sit down at a little distance from the house, while he went to learn if any of their enemies were in that neighbourhood in quest of him, and likewise to know whether they could be safe there with her; Ascanius was still to pass as his servant, Lewis Caw.

            Malcolm found his sister at home, but not her husband. After usual compliments at meeting, he told her, “that he was come to stay some little time there, provided there was no party of the military people about them, and that he could be safe;” she said he might. Then he told her, “he had no person along with him, except one Lewis Caw, son of Mr. Caw, surgeon in Crief, who had been out in the last affair, consequently, in the same situation with himself; and that he was to pass as his servant.” She very readily agreed to take him, and Lewis was called into the house.

            When Lewis entered the house, with the baggage on his back, and the napkin on his head, he took off his bonnet, made a low bow, and sat at a distance from his master; but the Captain’s sister could not help looking at him, observing something very uncommon about him.

            The Captain desired his sister to give them some provisions, for he was almost famished with hunger. The meat was soon set down, and the Captain called to poor sick Lewis to draw near and eat with him, as there was no company in the house. Lewis seeming very backward, alleging, “he knew better manner;” but his master ordering him again, he obeyed, and drew nearer, but still kept off his bonnet.

            After getting some refreshment, the Captain desired the maid servant to wash his feet; which being done, he desired her to wash his man’s; but she replied, “that though she had washed his, she would not wash that loon his servant’s;” but the Captain told her, “his servant was not well, and therefore he would have her to do it” She then complied, but rubbed his feet so hard, that she hurt him very much; on which the Prince spoke to the Captain in English, bidding her not rub so hard, nor go so far up with her hand, he having only a philibeg on. After this refreshment, they both went to sleep; during which time, the Captain’s sister went to the top of a hill to keep watch, lest they should be surprised.

  The Prince did not sleep above two hours; the Captain being weary, slept much longer; but when he awaked he saw Ascanius dandling a child and singing to it, seeming as alert as if he had been in bed all night. “Who knows,” says he, “but this boy may hereafter be a captain in my service?” “Or you, rather,” said the maid, “an old sergeant in his company.”

            The Captain being now awake, and hearing his brother-in-law was coming, went out to meet him. After the usual ceremonies, Malcolm asked him, “if he saw those ships of war that were at a distance hovering about the coast?” “Yes,” said McKinnen, “What (says Malcolm) if the Prince be on board one of them?” “God forbid!--replied McKinnen. “What (said Malcolm) if he was here; John, do you think he would be safe enough?” “I wish we had him here, (replied he,) for he would be safe enough; for nothing would hurt him here:-- “ “Well, then,” replied Malcolm, “he is now in your house; but when you go in, you must not take any notice of him, lest the servants or others observe you; for he passes for one Lewis Caw, my servant.” John promised very fair, but no sooner saw the Prince in that condition, than he burst into a flood of tears; which Malcolm observing, obliged John to retire immediately.

            When Ascanius and Malcolm were alone, the Captain desired he would tell him the perils he had already escaped; which, when told, Malcolm seemed amazed; and the Prince said, “Captain, I could give my own person, for life, more ease, by staying where I was; but I could give others more ease by being a king. I pity a good king; for, if he does his duty, he must be the greatest slave in his dominions, as he can’t say, that an hour of his time is justly his own; this is nothing to what I am destined to undergo; but Providence will guard me through the whole, as it has hitherto done. What I have undergone is a lesson I wish every Prince underwent before he came to govern; for he would then know what misery and distress were, which would have him a true light of the situation of his subjects, and be a mean to make him anxious and frugal; and not wantonly to throw away their wealth, if he means to make them and himself happy.”

            After much of this sort of conversation, they began to consult how he was to get to the continent of Scotland, and both agreed not to let the laird of McKinnen know of their being there, on account of his being so old. They then called in John McKinnen, and desired him to go and hire a boat, as if for Malcolm only; and made John promise not to communicate anything, of what he had heard or seen about the, to the laird, if he and John should chance to meet.

            John, after getting his instructions, set forward, but meeting with his old chieftain, he could not refrain letting him into the secret. The good old man, getting this intelligence, ordered John to give himself no trouble about the boat, for that he would provide a good one, and would soon be with the Prince.

            John returned, and told the Prince what had happened, and that the laird would soon be with him. Malcolm said to the Prince, “As the case now stands, it will be best to leave all the management to the old gentleman, who will be firm to his trust.” Ascanius, notwithstanding this, was uneasy at the thought of parting with his faithful captain; but Malcolm represented to him, that as he had been sometime absent, the military people would pursue him upon suspicion; which might be the cause of Ascanius being taken; “but if I return, and should be taken prisoner, (said Malcolm,) which may be very likely the case, it will enable me to prevent so quick a pursuit after you; because, as I am alone, I can tell my own tale without being confronted, and can send them upon a wrong scent; for myself (continued Malcolm) I care not, but for you I am much afraid; and as I can do you more service by quitting than staying with you, I desire you will follow the laird of McKinnen’s directions.” To this he at last consented, and just then the old gentleman came to them, and told them he had got the boat ready; upon which they set out for it directly, accompanied by John McKinnen, who even went with the laird to the continent of Scotland, and saw the Prince safe landed there.

            As they were on their way towards the boat, they spied two ships of war coming towards them, in full sail before the wind; thereupon they intreated the Prince not to attempt to go on board at that time, but to wait till the vessels had steered another course; “for just now (said Malcolm,) the wind if fair for them and against you.--Never fear, (replied the Prince) I have not had so few escapes, to be sillily caught here; I’ll go on board, and the wind will change, and those very ships shall steer another course; Providence show me, that I am in his care, and it therefore cannot be in the power of my enemies to come near me at this juncture.”

            By this time, it being about eight o’clock at night, they got to the sea-side, and Ascanius, about to step into the boat, turned suddenly to Malcolm, saying “Don’t you remember I promised to meet Murdock MacLeod at such a place?” naming it. “No matter, (said the Captain) I’ll make an apology; for as necessity drives you another road, he’ll excuse you.” “That’s not enough between gentlemen, (replied Ascanius,) have you pen, ink, and paper about you, Malcolm? I’ll write him a line or two; I am obliged, in good manners, to do this.” Accordingly he wrote the following words:


            I thank God I am in good health, and have got off as designed. Remember me to all friends, and thank them for the trouble they have been at. I am, Sir,

                                                                        Your humble Servant,

                                                                        JAMES THOMSON.

            The Prince then gave the letter to the Captain, and desired him to deliver it, though open, for he had neither wax nor wafer. The Prince then said, “Malcolm, let us smoke one pipe together before we part.” Accordingly the Captain fired a piece of tow with his gun for this purpose.

            At parting, Ascanius presented Malcolm with a silver stock-buckle, embraced and saluted him twice, thanking him for what he had done, and put ten guineas into his hand, which the Captain refusing, the Prince forced them upon him. Here Ascanius, having got a better pipe, had no farther occasion for the short one (called a cutty,) which was black with use; this Malcolm took, and some time after sent it to a friend in England.

            Malcolm having departed, Ascanius, the old laird of McKinnen, John McKinnen, Malcolm’s brother-in-law, and the boatmen, all went on board in the evening of the 5th of July.

            What the Prince had said to Malcolm, about the wind soon changing fair, and being spoken with such confidence, made so great an impression upon Malcolm, that he was determined to sit down upon a hill and see the event. He waited and declared, “That they had not rowed half a mile, and that towards the ship of war too, when the wind chopped about, and not only blew fair for Ascanius, but blew so brisk a gale, that it soon drove the vessels out of sight.” The truth of this, both Captain Malcolm, and those in the boat, attested upon oath.

            As the Captain had seen Ascanius, both in prosperity and in the greatest adversity, a certain worthy clergyman asking him his opinion of that young gentleman, his answer was, “That the Prince was the most cautious man in the world, not to be a coward, and the bravest, not to be rash.”

            I must observe here, that it is no difficult matter, in many cases, to foretell a speedy change of the wind, for almost any sailor can do that; but what was most providential for him was, that it should be about to change at the very identical time he was obliged to go on board, and when he required such a change.

            Captain Malcolm returned home again, but was not many days there before he was taken prisoner, and after being detained on board a ship, was conveyed into the Thames, and on the 1st of November, 1746, was removed to London, and there kept in the hands of Mr. William Dick, a messenger, till July 1747, and then discharged. He had cleared himself of taking up arms in behalf of Ascanius, by surrendering with his men, according to the Duke of Cumberland’s proclamation. He and Miss MacDonald returned to Scotland together. All this account was literally taken from Captain Malcolm MacLeod himself.

            The Prince left the island, for the continent of Scotland, the 5th of July, under the care of the old laird of McKinnen. The night proved tempestuous, and the coast was very dangerous. They met a boat, in which were some armed militia, with whom they spoke, and, as the militia did not exceed their own number, the Prince and crew resolved to make all the head they could, and prepared to fight, in case they had been attacked. But in spite of all these dangers, they landed safe at Moidart, about 30 miles from the place they set out from; and went again to Angus MacDonald’s house, at  Boradale, where he changed his dress, and sent for MacDonald of Glenaladale, of Clanranald’s family.

            Many of those who read this account, will scarce think it possible that the Prince could have escaped being drowned in so many storms, when in the open seas in such small vessels, some of which scarcely holding six people.

            After having landed the Prince, the laird of McKinnen took his leave, and set forward in the same boat, on his return home. He was taken prisoner in Morar, in his passage back, and was conveyed to the Thames, by sea, and there, partly on board and partly at Tilbury fort, he was kept a close prisoner until he was removed to the new gaol in Southwark, where he was put into irons, and in 1747 was removed into the hands of the messenger.

            Glenaladale, as I observed before, being sent for, came and informed the Prince about Lochiel, Keppoc, and others; and that the loss at Culloden and after the battle, was not near so great as Sullivan and O’Neil had reported.

            The Prince then proposed to go to Lochaber, where he thought his beloved Lochiel was; but as all the passes were closely guarded, it was deemed at that time impracticable; for one line was formed from Inverness to Fort Augustus, and from thence to Fort William, to prevent either the Prince or any other of his party from escaping; and another line was formed from the head of Locharkaig, to prevent any from passing in or out of Lochaber.

            The Prince continued some days in that country, about ten miles from Moidart, and stayed until he heard of the arrival of General Campbell, with 400 men on the one side of him, and Captain Caroline Scott, with 500 more on the other, they, having received intelligence where Ascanius was, were forming a circle round him; and were not two miles distant from him.

            The Prince receiving an account of this, was advised to go to the Braes of Glenmoriston, and to continue there, and in Lord Lovat’s country, until the passes should be opened. In this situation, he sent for Mr. Donald Cameron of Glenpane, to guide them to the Braes of Locharkaig; he came, and in the night conducted the Prince very safe through the guards, who were in the pass, and went so close to their tents as to hear them speak, being obliged to creep upon their hands and knees. At the same time there went with the Prince, Glenaladale, his brother, and two young boys, sons of Angus MacDonald of  Boradale.

            After this, the Prince continued his journey for Glenmoriston’s country; and as he was travelling one day, having only Glenaladale with him, the latter lost his purse with forty guineas in it. He lamented this misfortune the more, because it was all the money they had, the Prince having none left. He proposed to go back and seek for it, “saying, he was certain he could go the very same road, and would find it;” this Ascanius opposed, till he, showing how much it might be wanted, went back, desiring the Prince to rest himself behind the hill adjoining, till he should return.

            The gentleman being gone, and the Prince at his post, meditating upon the goodness of Providence to himself hitherto, though often in the midst of the greatest dangers; when, at some distance, he spied a party of soldiers advancing; upon which he hid himself, but in such a manner as to see the soldiers, who went near by, and on the very rout where the Prince and the other gentleman would have gone, had not the purse been lost, or had it not been their whole stock; and they both must have been taken or killed. Thus, what they were regretting as their greatest misfortune, was the means of their preservation. The Prince watched the soldiers as far as he could see them. Soon after, his friend returned with the purse, to whom he told what he had seen; after which, both of them joined in thanksgiving. The Prince said, “Glenaladale, my hour, I see, is not come; for, I believe, I should not be taken though I had a mind to it.”

            They got to Glenmoriston very safe, but were almost famishing with hunger, when the Prince saw a little but at a distance, and some smoke going out at a hole in the roof; “Thither (says he) will I go, let the consequence be what it will; for I had better be killed like a man, than be starved like a fool:” he had been forty-eight hours without meat. His friend did all in his power to dissuade him from it, but he would go.

            When they got to the hut, Ascanius went boldly in, without showing any manner of concern, and found six stout lusty fellows at dinner, upon a large piece of boiled beef, a sight he had been long a stranger to.

            The six men, who were notorious thieves, and made that hut their abode, for privacy and safety, were not a little amazed, at seeing a strange face entering there. One of them knew Ascanius, and also that he was skulking; but he, not thinking it safe to tell the rest of the company who their guest was, had the presence of mind, upon seeing the Prince, to cry out, “Ha! Dougal McCullony, I am glad to see thee!” The Prince, by this expression, found he was known, and with equal steadiness of countenance, thanked him cheerfully, sat down with them, ate very heartily, and was very merry.

            Ascanius, his friend and the man who knew him, walked out after dinner, and consulted what farther was to be done; and being informed of the state of the country about, and of the military people, found it absolutely necessary to wait there for some time, and that the other five men should be entrusted with the secret; which being done, they rejoiced that they had it in their power to serve the Prince; they proved of great service, and were very faithful. With these trusty Falstaffs, and Glenaladale, did the Prince continue, betwixt the Braes of Glenmoriston and Glen-Strath-Ferrar, until the guards were removed and the passes opened.

            About the time, one Roderick MacKenzie , a merchant of Edinburgh, who had been out with the Prince, was skulking among the hills, about Glenmoriston, when some of the soldiers met with him. As he was about the Prince’s size and age, and not unlike him in the face, being a genteel man and well dressed, they took him for the Prince. MacKenzie tried to escape them, but could not, and being determined not to be taken and hanged, (which he knew, if taken, would be his fate) he bravely resolved to die sword in hand; and, in that death, to serve Ascanius more than he could do by living. The bravery and steadiness of MacKenzie confirmed the soldiers in their belief that he was the Prince, whereupon one of them shot him; who, as he fell, cried to them, “You have killed your Prince, you have killed your Prince,” and expired immediately. The soldiers overjoyed with their supposed good fortune, in meeting with so great a prize, immediately cut off the brave young man’s head, and made all the haste they could to Fort Augustus, to tell the news of their great heroical fate, and to lay claim to the £30,000, producing the head, which several said they knew to be the prince’s head. This great news, with the head, was soon carried to the Duke, who, believing the great work was done, set forward for London, from Fort Augustus, on the 18th of July. It was about this head that Kingsborough was asked the question aforementioned, by one of the captains of the English forces.

            The soldiers and militia, sent out to take the Prince and his adherents, now imagining that he was killed, and his head sent to London, began to be less strict, and not keep so good a lookout as before, by which means the Prince escaped from place to place with less danger.

            I observed before, that the Prince continued betwixt the Braes of Glenmoriston and Glen-Strath-Ferrar, till the guards were removed and the passes opened. About the beginning of August he went with his retinue to Lochaber, to Achnacarry, the seat of Lochiel.

            Ascanius and company had brought no provisions with them, expecting to be supplied in that country, where there used to be greater plenty than where they had come from; but they were greatly disappointed, finding all the country plundered and burnt, and no cattle, or any kind of provisions, to be got. In this distress they remained some time, when at last one of the Glenmoriston men spied a hart, and shot it; on which they lived, without bread or salt.

            The next day, Ascanius was informed, that MacDonald of Locharkie, Cameron of Cluns, and Cameron of Lochnasual, were in the neighbouring mountains, sent after them, and at the same time sent a messenger to Lochiel, who was then about twenty miles off, to let him know where he was. Before Ascanius sent, Lochiel had heard that he was in the country, and sent his brother Dr. Archibald Cameron, and the Rev. Mr. John Cameron, by different roads, to get intelligence of him.

            The person sent to Ascanius to Lochiel met Doctor Cameron within a few miles of the place where Lochiel was, and was obliged to return to Lochiel with two French officers, whom he had met with, and who were in quest of the Prince also.

            These French officers came from Dunkirk in a small vessel, with sixty other gentlemen, who had formed themselves into a company of volunteers, under the command of the said two officers. They got to Polliver in Seaforth’s country, where four of them landed to deliver their dispatches; two of whom were taken prisoners, viz. one Fitzgerald, a Spanish officer, whom they hanged at Fort-William, pretending he had been a spy in Flanders; the other was called Mons. De Berard, a French officer, who was some time after exchanged upon the cartel. The other two wandered in Seaforth’s country, till Lochgary, hearing they had letters for Ascanius, sent Captain Macraw and his own servant for them, that they might be sent to Lochiel, since the Prince could not be found; this was about the middle of July.

            This faithful person, sent by the Prince, would not own to the Doctor, or to the two French officers, that he knew anything about the Prince, his orders being only to tell it to Lochiel himself, which he punctually observed; as he said he had business of the utmost consequence, the Doctor conducted him, with the two officers, to Lochiel.

            Next day, Lochiel sent Dr. Cameron, with four servants, to the Prince; and sent the officers at the same time, to be under the care of one of his friends till farther orders.

            The Reverend Mr. Cameron, whom his brother Lochiel had sent out to get intelligence of the Prince, after travelling and searching several days, went to Achnacarry, where he met with his brother the Doctor going to the Prince, with the four servants, who as the river was not fordable, raised a boat, which Captain Munro of Culcairn had sunk, after searching the isle of Locharkaig.

            When Culcairn was plundering in this island he saw some new raised earth, and imagining there was either money or arms concealed, had it dug up, but only found a man’s corpse, with a good Holland shirt on, which made him believe it to be Lochiel: He thereupon sent an express to the Duke of Cumberland, to tell him that Lochiel was dead of his wounds; but it was the corpse of ----- Cameron, brother of Allan Cameron of Callart, which last was taken at Culloden and carried to London. Rather than have no plunder, they took the shirt, and left the corpse lying on the ground.

            Dr. Cameron and the minister, observing some men by the water-side in arms, sent some of Cluns’ children, to see who they were; they, soon finding they belonged to Cluns, sent the boat for them, and then sent the four servants back again to Lochiel, pretending they were going to skulk in the wood for some days, and that keeping so many together might be dangerous.

            They crossed the river, and sent to the hut where the Prince was, which was built on purpose, in a wood betwixt Achnasual and the end of Locharkaig. The Prince, and Cameron of Achnasual, upon seeing the Doctor and his brother at a distance, and not knowing who they were, had left the hut and gone a little way from it; but on being informed who they were immediately returned to a joyful meeting. When they told the Prince that Lochiel was well and recovered of his wounds, he thrice returned God thanks for it, and expressed uncommon joy at it.

            The Prince was at this time bare footed, having on an old black kilt coat, a plaid, and a philibeg, a gun in his hand, and a pistol and dirk by his side; yet he was very cheerful, and in good health. They had killed a cow the day before, and the servants roasted part of it, of which, with some bread they had got from Fort Augustus, they made a hearty dinner.

            The Prince proposed going immediately to Lochiel, but a friend telling him that he saw in a newspaper, (which they got at the time they got their bread) that it was said the Prince had passed Coriarick, with Lochiel and thirty men, which probably might occasion a strict search in those parts; he therefore resolved to stay some days longer where he was. However, two or three days after this, the Prince sent Lochgary and Dr. Cameron to Lochiel; and then dismissed Glenaladale and the Glenmoriston men, to return home again. Ascanius continued in the hut with Cluns’ children, Captain Macraw of Glengary’s regiment, one or two servants, and the Reverend Mr. John Cameron.

            When the French officers, already mentioned, came to Lochiel, some persons told him these officers had left their letters with Alexander MacLeod, one of the Prince’s aids-de-camp. Though this proved true, yet, as they themselves had not told it to Lochiel, it made him suspect them to be government spies.

            The Prince was very desirous to see the officers, but he Reverend Mr. John Cameron told him, what both Lochiel, the Doctor, and he himself, were afraid of; upon which Ascanius resolved to act in this affair with great caution, and said, “he could not help observing, that it probably might be as they conjectured, because if they were not spies, it was surprising, that two men without one word of Erse, and quite strangers in the country, could escape the troops, who were always in motion, and in quest of him and his followers.”

            However, as these officers had told Lochiel “that they had never seen the Prince,” he (the Prince) laid a scheme to see them safely; and wrote a letter to this purpose, viz. “that, to avoid falling into his enemies’ hands, he was under a necessity to retire to a remote country, where he had no person with him, except one Captain Drummond, and a servant; and as he could not remove from where he was, without danger to himself and them, he had sent Captain Drummond with this letter; and as he could repose entire confidence in him, he desired they would tell whatever message they had to Captain Drummond, and take his advice as to their conduct.” This letter he resolved to deliver himself, as Captain Drummond. Accordingly, the officers were sent for, and introduced to him in his borrowed name. He then delivered the letter to them, with which they seemed very well pleased, and told him everything they had to say; which, he afterwards said, was of no great consequence, as his affairs now stood.

            They continued there two days, and asked Captain Drummond many questions about the Prince’s health, his manner of living, &c.

            Ascanius thinking the packet left with Mr. Alexander  MacLeod might be of use, sent for it; but as it was in cypher, and directed to the French ambassador, so he could make nothing of it. Lochiel took care of these officers till the Prince was ready to go away, when they were conducted to the ship, and seeing that they had conversed with Ascanius in so free a manner, taking him for Captain Drummond, they asked his pardon, which he readily granted.

            The Prince and company continued in this wood, and in that over against Achnacarry, (having three huts in different places, to which they removed by turns) until about the 10th of August; on which day Cluns’ sons, and the Reverend Mr. Cameron, went to the Strath of Cluns to get intelligence.

            They were not half an hour in the hut, which Cluns had built for his family, (after his house was burnt) when a child about six years old went out, and returning hastily, said, she saw a body of soldiers; this they could not believe, as Lochgary had promised Lochiel to have a guard between Fort Augustus and Cluns, to give intelligence.

            They went out, however, and found all true as they girl had told. Cluns skulked to observe the motions of that party; one of his sons, and the Reverend Mr. John Cameron, went to inform the Prince, who was that day in one of his huts on the other side of the water King, a short mile from Cluns; and in crossing the water at the ford, under cover of the wood, near the hut, the Reverend Mr. Cameron observed the party advancing.

            The Prince was asleep but Mr. Cameron soon awoke him, and told him that a body of their enemies was in sight; he then arose very composedly, called for his gun, sent for Captain Macraw, and Alexander,  Cluny’s son.

            As they had received no intelligence of this party’s marching out of Fort Augustus, they concluded that there was some treachery in the case, and that they were surrounded on all sides. However, they determined, though but eight in number, rather than yield their throats to be cut, to sell their lives as dear as they could, and to die like men of honour; and the Prince said, “Lads, let us live for a better day if we can.”

            The Prince examined all their guns, which were in pretty good order, and said he hoped they would do some execution before they were killed; for his part, he said, he had been bred a shooter, and could charge quick, was a tolerable marksman, and could be sure of his mark.

            They then left the hut, and marched to a small hill above the wood, from whence they could see a great way up Glenkingie. They got there unobserved, under the cover of the wood. Ascanius then sent Cluns, and the minister, to take a narrow view of the party, and resolved that night to go to the top of Mullantagart, a high mountain in the braes of Glenkingie, and sent one to Cluns and the minister, to know what they had heard or discovered.

            When Cluns and the minister had got to the Strath of Cluns, the women told them that the party was about 200 of Lord Loudon’s regiment under Captain Grant of Knockardo in Strathspey; that they had carried away ten milk cows, which Cluns had bought, after he was plundered before, and that they had found out the hut Ascanius had in the wood of Tervalt, and said they were gone to fetch Barrisdale’s cattle to the camp.

            In the evening, Cluns’ son went to his father, and they all returned, and carried some whisky, bread, and cheese, about twelve o’clock at night to Ascanius, who was on the side of the mountain, without fire or any covering; they persuaded him to take a dram, and made a fire, which, however, they durst not keep above half an hour, before they extinguished it.

            By daylight they went up to the top of the mountain, where they  stayed till eight o’clock in the evening. Ascanius slept all the forenoon in his plaid, with wet stockings, though it hailed. From whence they went that night to the Strath of Glenkingie, where they killed a cow, and lived merrily for some days.

            From this place they went to the Braes of Achnacarry, and waded through the water of Arkey, up to the mid-thigh; in which wet condition Ascanius lay all night and next day in the open air, yet he  caught no cold.

            In a day or two, Lochgary and Dr. Cameron returned from Lochiel, (to whom they had been sent) and told it, as Lochiel’s opinion, that Ascanius would be safer where Lochiel was skulking, which pleased him much.

            The next night, Ascanius set out with Lochgary, Dr. Cameron, Alexander (Cluns’ son), the Reverend Mr. John Cameron, and three servants: they  travelled  in the night and slept all the day, till they got to Lochiel, who was then among the hills, between the Braes of Badenoch and Atholl. The doctor and his brother went by another road, on a message to Badenoch. The minister returned about the 13th of September, and the next day was sent south by Lochiel, to hire a ship to carry them off from the north coast.

            The ship was provided, and one sent to inform the Prince, Lochiel, and others, of it. But before this messenger go to the Prince and Lochiel, two of his friends, who had orders to watch on the west coast, came and told them, that two French ships were arrived at Moidart.

            Upon this, the Prince set out the night following, and sent to inform all the others, who were skulking in different places. Some arrived at the place appointed in time; but several, by some accident or other, had not that good fortune.

            The Prince reached Moidart, on September the 19th, 1746, and on the 20th, embarked on board the Belonna of St. Maloes, a Nantz privateer of 32 carriage guns, 12 swivels, and 340 men, brought hither by Colonel Warren of Dillon’s regiment, who went on purpose for a vessel. The Prince, on seeing his friends put first on board the ships, then embarked himself, and set sail immediately for France, where he landed safely at Roscort, near three leagues west of Morlaix, on the 29th of the same month, after a pleasant voyage.


From the foregoing account, we find, that the Prince was twice in danger of being shot; five times in danger of being drowned, having been in great storms in little boats; nine times pursued, and in sight of ships of war and other armed vessels. Many times  in danger of being taken, often seeing his pursuers and sometimes being within hearing of them. Six times miraculously escaped being taken. He was often almost famished for want of meat and drink, must inevitably have starved, were it not for some favourable acts of Providence that exceeded all human aid or hope.

            He was mostly obliged to lie in miserable huts, having no other bed than the bare ground, or heath; often lying on wild mountains, without any covering than the canopy of heaven, and with heavy dews and rains. Add to all these, that he had frequent returns of the bloody flux.

            Thus, you have a faithful account of the whole escape, taken from the authorities mentioned. The account, since the Prince’s return to the continent of Scotland, is chiefly taken from the journal of the Rev. Mr. John Cameron, Presbyterian minister, and chaplain to Fort William, who has been much with the Prince. I shall, therefore, give you his own words.

            “I have told you,” said he, “what I was witness to, or informed of, by such as I could absolutely depend upon. I shall only say, that the prince submitted with patience to his adverse fortunes; was cheerful, frequently desiring those about him to be so. He was cautious and circumspect in the greatest danger; never at a loss, in resolving with coolness what to do; uncommon resolution, and fortitude in all extremities; he regretted more the distress of those who suffered on his account, than his own hardships and dangers. To conclude, he possesses all the virtues that form the character of a true hero and philosopher.”

            Now to proceed; the Prince, after landing at Roscort, proceeding on his journey to Paris, where the Chateau St. Antoine was fitted up for his reception. He was scarce well arrived there, when he went to Versailles, and was there received by the King and Queen of France, with every mark of the most tender affection, and seeming demonstrations of joy. At different times, he related to them the chief of his sufferings, and they seemed to be greatly affected with the melancholy story, and endeavoured to comfort him with fair hopes and promises; but the memory of his disappointment was yet too recent, and the news, which was continually arriving of the commitments, trials, and executions of some of his most faithful followers, filled him with an anxiety not easily to be removed, and left but little room for pleasant ideas.

            This was only a private visit; therefore it was thought necessary for him to make his compliments to the King and court in form, in the character which he had borne by commission from his father. This he did, in about ten day’s time, in the following manner:

            In the first coach went the Lords Ogilvie and Elcho, Old Glenbucket, and Mr. Kelly the secretary, who escaped out of the tower; in the second went the Prince, Lord Lewis Gordon, and the eldest Lochiel, who was master of the horse; pages, and ten footmen in the Prince of Wales’s livery, walked on each side; in the third went Captain Stafford, and three gentlemen of the bed-chamber; the younger Lochiel, and several other gentlemen, followed on horseback; who all made a grand appearance. They all met with a most gracious reception, and the Prince supped with the King, Queen, and Royal Family; and those who attended him were magnificently entertained at the several tables appointed for them, according to the rank they bore under the Prince.

            The French soon raised some new regiments, wholly composed of English, Scots, and Irish; and the command of one of them was given to Lord Ogilvy, (who, with his corps, fought so desperately at the battle of Val) and another to young Lochiel. This, and several other methods the French took to soothe the Prince, and to make him subservient to their purpose; but though he saw through their whole designs, he could in no way help himself, as affairs then stood, therefore dissembled as well as the French ministry; looking on all their promises to be made with no intention to perform! He said, he was sure the French wished him well anywhere but in England.

            In France, Ascanius amused himself with plays, operas, paying and receiving visits, &c. After being there some time, he made a tour to Madrid, incognito. What his business was there, and what success he met with, remained a secret; however, it is well known, he was greatly caressed there. His stay at Madrid was about five or six days, and then, after making a tour of near four months, he returned to Paris.

            Whatever disappointments Ascanius met with, nothing chagrined him more than his brother’s acceptance of a cardinal’s hat, which happened about this time. His discontent at this was so great, that he forbade all who were about him, ever to mention his brother in his presence, and he always omitted drinking his health at meals.

            In this situation, all things seemed to go on, until the negotiation for a peace was advanced, when the Prince had a fair opportunity of throwing off the mask he had so long worn, and then hired a find hotel in the Quai de Theatin, opposite to the Louvre, on the banks of the Seine, for himself and the chief of his retinue, on purpose, as he said, to be near the opera and play house, and other diversions of Paris, some of which he generally attended every evening.

            During this period, he neither went so frequently, nor stayed so long at Versailles, as he had been accustomed to do, and rather avoided, than sought any private conferences with the King. The first public indication he gave of his disgust was, to cause a great number of medals, both of silver and copper, to be cast with his head and this inscription: “CAROLUS WALLIÆ PRINCES.” And, on the reverse, BRITANNIA and SHIPPING, with this motto: Amor et spes Britanniæ.

            Everybody was surprised at the device, as France was reduced to the condition of making peace, entirely by the bravery and successes of the British fleet; this device gave great offence to the French ministry, and several of the nobility and others.

            Soon after, the French plenipotentiaries were sent out to meet those of the other powers at Aix-la-Chapelle, in order to open the congress; and Ascanius entered his protest against all that should be concerted, or agreed upon in that, or any other congress, in prejudice to his title and pretensions.

            After signing the preliminaries, Ascanius went no more to court, but appeared far from being disconcerted at this event, and was not the least shocked, but seemed determined to contemn his fate, instead of complaining on the severity of it, and kept his resolution to the end, even in the midst of the most shocking and unexpected trials.

            As, by one of the articles of peace, he was obliged to leave the kingdom of France, the King wrote to the states of Friburg, desiring they would receive him in a manner becoming his birth, and as a prince who was very dear to him.

            Neither the one nor the other had any effect on the deportment of the young hero; he continued to live as a person wholly disinterested, and regardless of what was doing, until the King, who doubtless expecting he would have gone of his own accord, finding he did not, ordered Cardinal Tencin to acquaint him with the necessity there was for his departure.

            This the Cardinal did in the most tender manner; but received such evasive answers from him, that he could not give the King any positive account whether he would go or not.

            The King, however, waited about fourteen days, and being informed that he made not the least preparation for his departure, sent the Duke de Gesvres with a message of the same nature as before; the Prince only replied, “that he little expected such a step to have been taken, that he had not yet had sufficient time to consider how to behave in it.”

            This answer produced a delay of another fortnight, when the Duke de Gesvres was sent a second time, and on his saying, “that the king was under the necessity of executing this article of the treaty,” the prince replied with some warmth, “that there was a prior treaty between him and the King, from which he could not depart with honour.”--It was in vain for the Duke to urge him to be more explicit; he only bid him deliver what he had said to the King, who would know his meaning.

            Notwithstanding the messages were no secret, he showed so little intention to leave Paris, that his people bought several pieces of new furniture for his house. Among other persons he sent for the King’s goldsmith, who had been employed by him formerly, and ordered him to make a service of plate, to the value of an hundred thousand crowns, to be ready against a particular day, which the goldsmith promised not to fail in; but it so happened, that, immediately after, he received orders to prepare such a large quantity for the King’s use, against the same time, that he found it impossible to comply with both; on which he waited on Ascanius, and entreated he would allow him a few days longer, telling him the occasion; but he would not admit of the excuse, insisting “on being first served, as he had given the first orders.”

            The goldsmith was in a very great dilemma on this occasion, but thought the most prudent way to extricate himself from it, would be to acquaint the King, who no sooner heard the story, than he commanded that Ascanius should be first served, and that the value of the plate should be paid by the comptroller of his own household, without any charge to the other.

            It is supposed, the King imagined the hurry the Prince showed for having his plate got ready, by such a time, was occasioned by his designing to leave Paris on that day; for no more messages were sent to him, until about a week after the plate was sent.

            But it is plain, Ascanius was so far from any such intention, that he resolved to push things to the last extremity. This fine service of plate was on the score a of a grand entertainment he made for the Princess of Talmaut, a near relation to the Queen, the Marchioness de Sprimont, Madame de Maiseuse, the Duke of Bouillon, and above thirty others of the nobility of both sexes, with several foreigners of great distinction.

            About this time, the two hostages from Great Britain arrived at Paris, on which Ascanius expressed great dissatisfaction, saying publicly, “That the tables were sadly turned upon poor old England, since her word could not be relied upon without such pledges as are scarce ever granted but by a conquered nation; while French faith passed current for all that was to be done on her part; he could not now take it ill of the French not to wish success to his interest, while they were permitted to rule as they pleased.

            The French court, having received complaints from the English ministry, because the Prince was not removed, thought proper to remind him once more what was expected from him. Accordingly, the Duke de Gesvres waited on the Prince a third time, and acquainted him also, that the States of Friburg had returned a most obliging answer to the King’s letter, on his account, and were ready to receive the honour of his going go reside in their canton, with all the demonstrations of respect due to his birth and virtues, and in their power to give. To this the Prince only replied, “That he hoped to find a time to return the good will of the States;” without giving the Duke any satisfaction, whether he accepted their offer or not.

            The King, at this, dispatched a courier to Rome, with an account of all that had passed; Ascanius sent also to his father, and the court being willing to wait the result of this, occasioned it a further delay.

            As no part of these proceedings was a secret, there was scarce anything else talked of at Paris; amongst the generality of all degrees, the Prince’s conduct was applauded.

            Two of the distinguished characteristics of the French nation being, the envy they are apt to conceive of the excellence of any person not born amongst them, and their implicit love and reverence even to idolizing their sovereign; we must be obliged to confess, that the merit they vouchsafed to acknowledge in a foreigner, must be extraordinary indeed; and that he who is capable of rivaling their King’s conduct in their esteem, must have something of distinguishing dignity about him.

            The ministry could not brook this, and were resolved to get rid of the Prince at any rate; and therefore, without waiting for the return of the courier from Rome, prevailed upon the King to send the Duke de Gesvres a fourth time to him, and insist immediate removal.

            Ascanius now expressed some impatience, and told the Duke, “That though he should always treat anyone who came to him from the King with respect, yet he was sorry to find he had the trouble of repeating a business to which he could not give ear, without hearing it from the King himself.” The King being acquainted with this, and being impatient to get rid of him at any rate, yet loathe to proceed to extremities, vouchsafed to write a letter to him, and sent it with a blank order, to be filled up by himself, for whatever yearly sum he pleased; both which the Duke de Gesvres was obliged to deliver.

            Ascanius read the letter twice over, and having paused a little threw it from him with disdain, saying, “The thing required from me is not consistent with honour.”

            This ambiguous proceeding both perplexed and exasperated the King; a council was called, and therein it was resolved to send Monsieur le Count de Maurepas to expostulate with Ascanius on his late conduct, and not to leave him, till he had obliged him to declare in express terms what his intention was; and withal to intimidate to him, that if he did not conform to the present necessity of affairs, by leaving the kingdom with a good grace, the ministry would be obliged to compel him to it.--The ministers! The ministers! Cried the Prince, with the greatest disdain, “If you will oblige me, Monsieur le Count, tell the King, that I am born to break all the schemes of his ministers; and, tell him, I know how it could be done, but he time is not yet come to complete that good work.”

            It is supposed the Prince had a double view in acting in the manner he did: to convince Europe that the most solemn engagements had been entered into between him and the court of France, and were all broken, on their part; and, secondly, to show the court that he was not to be any farther imposed upon, and that he could resent, as he ought, the artifices they had practiced upon him.

            The courier being at length arrived, brought a letter from the Prince’s father to him, enclosed in one to the King, open as was said, for the King’s perusal: It is said the letter contained a command to the Prince to leave the French dominions, but without mentioning the time when, and for that reason the Prince thought himself at liberty to stay where he was, till he had mentioned the period, and fixed a proper place for his future residence, as he had some reluctance to go to Friburg.

            The ministry, not knowing the Prince’s real motives for staying, prevailed upon the King to give orders for his being arrested, and when the order was carried to be signed, the King said, “Poor Prince! How difficult it is for a king to be a true friend!” This seems to show, the King did not foresee the unworthy treatment the Prince was to receive from the hands of those commissioned to arrest him. This order, signed at three o’clock, was blazed over all Paris before night.

            Twelve hundred guards were drawn out, and placed in the court of the Palais Royal; a great number of sergeants and grenadiers, armed cap-a-pee, filled the passages of the opera house; the street guards were placed in the streets leading to it; yet, notwithstanding all this, the Duke de Biron, who was colonel of the guards, and had the charge of executing this commission, would not appear, but kept at a distance, disguised, and left it to the care of Major Vanderville, a man of mean extraction, and of more mean merit, who had been raised by him to the post. The manner of this whole transaction, is fully and minutely related in the following extract of a letter from Paris, dated December 21st, 1748, to a person in London.

            “I would not acquaint you of this odd scene till the confusion was a little settled; and until I could inform you of the circumstances with more certainty.

            “As the Prince was determined not to leave France, till forced to do it by violence, he was consequently, in daily expectation of being arrested; and, accordingly, had secured all his papers, plate, and such things as he thought not proper to trust to French mercy.

            “Some hours before the Prince was taken, several streets of Paris were beset with companies of the guards, and such precautions were taken as if there was real danger of some sudden rising for his defence. This precaution seemed necessary, in some measure, because, on Saturday the 7th, the Prince being at the opera, was universally clapped at his entrance, and applauded by everybody, for his brave answers to the King’s orders to him to quit the French dominions, into which he had been invited from Italy, &c &c. This general applause of the people, it is believed, hastened his being seized. The Prince, being informed by a friend of their motions, and placing the guards only calmly replied, Well, then, if it be so, we will not let them wait for us; and so immediately they went to the opera, being on Tuesday the 10th.

            “He was arrested in entering the opera-house, by six lusty fellows, who had cuirasses under their coats; they seized his sword, and small pocket-pistols, which he always carried for his own security. They tied his arms, thighs, and legs, with cords, and lifting him off the ground put him into a coach, attended by the major, aid-major, and another officer of the blue guards and four sergeants behind the coach. In this equipage, he was carried to the castle of Vincennes, the whole road being crowded with guards.

            “The Prince behaved, on the road to Vincennes, with all the composure imaginable, and finding the aid-major had been in Italy, talked to him about several places in that country.

            “At his arrival at the castle, seeing his intimate friend and old acquaintance, the Governor, approaching him, he cried out, “Mon ami Chatelet, venez donc embrasser, plusque je ne puis pas vous embrasser, that is, My friend, Chatelet, come then to embrace me when I can’t embrace you, (alluding to the cords wherewith he was tied.) The Governor then, in the most tender and respectful manner, unbound him, and conducted him to a small room, about ten feet square, with a small light which descended from the top. Upon the sight of this apartment, he only said, he had seen a worse in Scotland.

            “Three captains of the guards were always with him night and day; they, by their tears, testified their concern, and showed him all the respect due to his rank.

            “The first night he did not eat, saying he had dined well, nor did he sleep, until next morning (Wednesday the 11th) when he flung himself in his clothes upon the bed, and got a good nap; the same day he did not dine, but at five o’clock in the evening, the Governor brought him some broth with three bits of bread, which he pressed him to take, and the Prince complied, and ordered his supper to be ready at eight o’clock; he ate very heartily, though it disagreed with him afterwards, having overfasted himself.

            “On Thursday (the 12th) he dined very well, continuing his meals regularly, and was in good health till he was released.

            “On Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, the Governor went to the King’s levee, but carried back no orders for amending his prisoner’s condition.

            “On Friday morning (the 13th) the Prince wrote to the King, and in the evening received his answer. On Saturday he got another letter, and in the afternoon he had liberty to walk in the gardens, &c. where he  stayed some hours, and then returned to his dungeon, to pass his last night there. The contents of these letters were not known. On Sunday (the 15th) at seven o’clock in the morning, he departed from Vincennes for Fontainebleau in a coach, with the commandant of the musqueteers, accompanied by Mr. Sheridan, and Mr. Stafford, in two post-chaises.

            “On Monday, the 16th, the Prince wrote again to the King, and received an immediate answer.

            “On Tuesday morning, at four o’clock, having eaten three eggs, he set out from thence with the aforesaid company, to hasten out of France.”

            “Sixty musqueteers were appointed to guard him on the road, but as he assured the King there was no necessity for them, they  stayed behind.

            “During his captivity, he never showed the least impatience, in looks, words, or actions; but bore it with that magnanimity of spirit which gained him the admiration of all; who said, This Prince must be a hero in every sense of life. He was affable, in the most gracious manner, to the Governor and three captains of the guards; and when he saw them in any concern on his account, he even revived them with his gaiety, and always forced them to sit at table and eat with him.

            “The castle of Vincennes, all the time of the Prince’s residence, was strongly guarded by the grenadiers and blue guards; and the drawbridges were drawn up both day and night.

            When the Prince was first arrested, the lieutenant de Police, with 150 guards, were ordered to his house; but on finding the doors shut, were preparing ladders, when some of them finding a back door, broke it open, entered triumphantly, and seized every person there, even to the scullion, and ate the supper which was preparing for the Prince.

            “At the same time, Sir David Murray, Sir James Harrington, Mr. Gorin, Mr. Stafford, Mr. Sheridan, and others, both English, Scots, and Irish, of the Prince’s adherents, (about forty) were arrested in different parts of the town, and were conducted, in the night, to the Bastille: they were treated very well in all other respects, except their confinement.

            “The Prince’s French servants were set at liberty the next day; and, before he left Vincennes, he ordered them to be all dismissed.

            “On Friday, the 13th, at night, Messrs. Stafford and Sheridan were released, to prepare for their attendance on the Prince against Sunday morning.

            “The rest of the gentlemen were all dismissed on the 19th, at eight o’clock at night, when Sir James Harrington, and Mr. Gorin, received orders to quit Paris immediately; but gained leave afterwards to stay till the 24th, when, as was supposed, they followed the Prince; though others were left at their own liberty, to do as they pleased. This short confinement, added to that of Sir David Murray’s in England, just completed two years.

            “The Prince only left at the house, proper persons to pay off all bills, and to pack up such things as he did not before think necessary to be removed.”

            The Prince, from  Fontainebleau, proceeded on his journey to Avignon, where he  stayed some weeks, and left it incognito. Taking along with him Colonel Gorin, and three other domestics, and returned four days again. During this time, the Prince was frequently with the King and Queen, and then proceeded on his journey for Poland, to marry the Princess of Radzvil, who is said to be a Protestant, and one of the first Princesses of Poland, with an immense fortune. She is related to the Queen of France, and to the Countess of Talmont, who brought about this match.

            I shall now endeavour to give a little account of what became of those who helped to compose the Prince’s army.

            Lochiel, being wounded in both legs, was carried off the field by four of his men, and put into a barn. While these men were taking off his own clothes, and putting on others to disguise him, a party of dragoons surrounded the barn, but they were ordered away just as they were going into it.

            The dragoons were no sooner gone, than his men set him on horseback, and carried him that night to Cluny’s house in Badenoch, where he continued till next morning, and then went to Lochaber; when he left the barn, he dismissed two of the men, but kept the other two to hold him on horseback

            On Friday, after the battle of Culloden, the Duke of Perth, Lord John Drummond, the Marquis of Tullibardine, Lord George Murray, Lord Ogilvie, Colonel Stewart of Ardshiel, Colonel John Roy Stewart, Lord Nairn, several of the Drummonds, and Captain James Hay, went to Ruthven in Badenoch. Lord George Murray there proposed to get meal into that country, and to collect their troops again, and hold out in order to obtain terms; but no person would pay any regard to what he said, being before so often disgusted at him, also at his haughty behaviour in general, and at his conduct at the battle of Culloden in particular. He said many things in his own justification, and told them he would clear up his character in black and white, which was some time after handed about. Lord George declared, at this place, “that he was against fighting that day, and was for crossing the Nairn, but Sullivan opposed it; also, that Sullivan used to carry everything in councils of war against him.”

            Some of these gentlemen began to disperse that night, and the rest next day. The Duke of Perth, and Lord John Drummond, went directly for Moidart, where they soon after embarked for France with Lord Elcho, Captain James Maxwell, and several others. They all got safe thither, except the Duke of Perth, who died two days after he went on board; Lord John also died soon after, and his regiment was given to Lord Lewis Drummond.

            The Marquis of Tullibardine was soon after betrayed, and carried to the Tower of London, where he died, and was buried in St. Peter’s church. He was not in the battle of Culloden, being then very ill.

            Lord George Murray was concealed in Scotland, till December after the battle of Culloden; and then, after being a little time in Edinburgh, went on board a vessel at Anstruther, and got to France. He never was in England after that battle, though some have strongly asserted it.

            Lord Ogilvie, Lord Nairn, Colonel Stewart of Ardshiel, Colonel John Roy Stewart, and the Drummonds, all got to France; after which, Colonel Roy Stewart died. Captain Hay surrendering as a French Officer, to the Justice Clerk at Edinburgh, was removed to Carlisle, where he was tried and condemned for high treason; but, being an officer in French service, was soon discharged and released upon the cartel.

            On the 15th of May, at Murtleg, or rather Murlagan, in the isle of Morar, near the head of Locharkaig, Lord Lovat, Lochiel, Major Kennedy, Glenbucket, Lochgary, Alexander MacLeod, Doctor Cameron, John Roy Stewart, Borrisdale’s son, Secretary Murray, and others, (about thirteen) assembled; and it was there proposed and agreed, that they should make a rendezvous at Glenmallie, and cross Lochy, where Cluny and Keppoch’s men should join them. Lord Lovat’s opinion was, to raise about 3500 men, to defend the country, families, and cattle as well as themselves; and the particular number that each was to provide, was agreed upon. Lord Lovat was to send 400 men, and that Lord’s servant had ten days pay for these men given him.

            The meeting being over, Lochiel and Murray crossed the lake again; and about four or five days after this, Murray crossed the lake again to Glensherrie, on the opposite side of the water to Lord Lovat.

            The general rendezvous was to be near Keppoch’s house; Lochiel’s, and Clanranald’s people, were to meet at the lake, about two miles from Lochiel’s house.

            Accordingly, about ten days after this, Lochiel got a body of 300 or 400 men; Borrisdale and Lochgary went with about 150 men each; but as soon as Lochgary got pay for his men, he went away, promising to return in a few days, and to observe Lord Loudon’s motions; but he performed neither, for that Earl, about two days after the men were got together, marched through Glengary, and had certainly taken Lochiel, but for some of his scouts; Borrisdale, before Loudon went away to Achnacarry, told Lochiel he would go and bring more men to them, and left his son with a few.

            Early in the morning, a body of men appeared marching over a hill, whom Lochiel believed to be Borrisdale’s men; but some of his scouts came and told him they were Loudon’s people, for they had red crosses in their bonnets. Upon this, Lochiel dispersed his men, and crossed the loch in a boat, which he had kept to prevent his being surprised; so that he owed his escape more to the crosses than to the care of Lochgary, or to the honesty of Borrisdale.

            Lord Lovat, and some others, took different routs; Secretary Murray, and some others, stayed with Lochiel until they got to Lochleven, near Glencoe; and after being there some time, Sir David Murray, Secretary Murray, Dr. Cameron, and the Reverend Mr. John Cameron, went from thence to Glenlyon, and continued there twelve or fourteen days. From that place they went to Glenochie, where Secretary Murray was taken very ill, and desired they should return; so Sir David Murray went south, and Captain McNab went with him to the Braes of Balquhiddar, and provided him a horse and clothes, and the rest returned again to Lochiel.

            Sir David went as far as Whitby in Yorkshire, where he was taken prisoner, in trying to get off, and was sent to York; there he was tried and condemned, but was afterwards reprieved, and discharged on the 7th of August 1748, upon condition that he should quit the kingdom for life.

            After staying a little time with Lochiel, Secretary Murray went southwards, and was at Mr. Hunter’s of Polmood, his brother-in-law, on the 28th of June, after the battle of Culloden, being about four miles off his own house at Broughton, on the great road to England, by Carlisle. The evening of the night that he was taken, a boy went from his brother’s to Broughton, where a party of soldiers were, and told them to go to take him, which in the night they did, and next day set forwards with him for Edinburgh, where, when he arrived, he was so drunk that he could not speak to Justice Clerk, until after a few hours sleep; and then he was committed to the castle, where he remained until sent up to London under a strong guard; and was immediately close confined, until he had given evidence against Lord Lovat; and then was removed into the custody of a messenger, and about Christmas 1747 was discharged.

            When they were going to remove him from Edinburgh, his mother wrote to a certain countess, to desire her assistance to raise a party in Yorkshire, to attempt to rescue her dear son; but the lady was so provoked at it, that she burnt the letter immediately, in great wrath.

            The rest of the history of Lochiel, Dr. Cameron, and his brother the minister, I have given in the Prince’s escape. The other gentlemen all got safe abroad. Lochiel got safe to France, and was there made a colonel of 1000 men, which he enjoyed to his death, in September 1748, when it was given to Sir Hector McLean, who, as afore mentioned, was so long confined in Newgate. Dr. Cameron was wounded at Culloden by a musket bullet, which entered near the elbow, (having his arm up) and went along the arm, and then out at the opposite shoulder.


            We shall conclude these remarks with an extract of a letter from London, July 31, 1746, the truth of which may be relied on, and which gave rise to the ballad that follows the letter.

            “A young Lady, of a good family, and handsome fortune, had, for some time, extremely loved, and been equally beloved by Mr. James Dawson, one of those unfortunate Gentlemen who suffered yesterday at Kennington Common for high treason; and had he been either acquitted, or, after condemnation, found the royal mercy, the day of his enlargement was to have been that of their marriage.

            “Not all the persuasions of her kindred, could prevent her from going to the place of execution; she was determined to see the last of a person so dear to her; and accordingly followed the sledges in a hackney-coach, accompanied by a Gentleman nearly related to her, and one female friend. She got near enough to see the fire kindled which was to consume that heart she knew so much devoted to her, and all the other dreadful preparations for his fate, without being guilty of any of those extravagancies her friends had apprehended. But when all was over, and that she found he was no more, she drew her head back into the coach and crying out, -- My dear, I follow thee, -- I follow thee; -- Sweet Jesus, receive both our souls together, fell on the neck of her companion, and expired in the very moment she was speaking.

            “That excess of grief which the force of her resolution had kept smothered within her breast, it is thought, put a stop to the vital motion, and suffocated, at once, all the animal spirits.”

Jemmy Dawson

A ballad by William Shenstone

Come listen to my mournful tale,
Ye tender hearts and lovers dear!
Nor will you scorn to heave a sigh,
Nor need you blush to shed a tear.

And thou dear Kitty! peerless maid!
Do thou a pensive ear incline;
For thou canst weep at every woe,
And pity every plaint--but mine.

Young Dawson was a gallant boy,
A brighter never trod the plain;
And well he loved one charming maid,
And dearly was he loved again.

One tender maid, she loved him dear;
Of gentle blood the damsel came;
And faultless was her beauteous form,
And spotless was her virgin fame.

But curse on party's hateful strife,
That led the favour'd youth astray;
The day the rebel clans appear'd--
O had he never seen that day!

Their colours and their sash he wore,
And in the fatal dress was found;
And now he must that death endure
Which gives the brave the keenest wound.

How pale was then his true love's cheek,
When Jemmy's sentence reach'd her ear!
For never yet did Alpine snows
So pale, or yet so chill appear.

With faltering voice she, weeping, said,
"O Dawson! monarch of my heart!
Think not thy death shall end our loves,
For thou and I will never part.

"Yet might sweet mercy find a place,
And bring relief to Jemmy's woes,
O George! without a prayer for thee,
My orisons should never close.

"The gracious prince that gave him life,
Would crown a never-dying flame;
And every tender babe I bore
Should learn to lisp the giver's name.

"But though he should be dragg'd in scorn
To yonder ignominious tree;
He shall not want one constant friend
To share the cruel Fates' decree."

Oh! then her mourning coach was call'd;
The sledge moved slowly on before;
Though borne in a triumphal car,
She had not loved her favourite more.

She follow'd him, prepared to view
The terrible behests of law;
And the last scene of Jemmy's woes,
With calm and steadfast eye she saw.

Distorted was that blooming face,
Which she had fondly loved so long;
And stifled was that tuneful breath,
Which in her praise had sweetly sung:

And sever'd was that beauteous neck,
Round which her arms had fondly closed;
And mangled was that beauteous breast,
On which her lovesick head reposed:

And ravish'd was that constant heart,
She did to every heart prefer;
For though it could its king forget,
'Twas true and loyal still to her.

Amid those unrelenting flames
She bore this constant heart to see;
But when 'twas moulder'd into dust,
"Yet, yet," she cried, "I follow thee.

"My death, my death alone can show
The pure, the lasting love I bore
Accept, O Heaven! of woes like ours,
And let us, let us weep no more."

The dismal scene was o'er and past,
The lover's mournful hearse retired;
The maid drew back her languid head,
And, sighing forth his name, expired.

Though justice ever must prevail,
The tear my Kitty sheds is due;
For seldom shall she hear a tale
So sad, so tender, yet so true.

[1] This John was either killed at the battle of Culloden, or murdered the next day; for he has never been heard of since.

[2] This isle lies in 57 degrees 40 min N. lat. is about five miles long from E. to W. and three miles broad from N. to S. and lies betwixt N. and S. Uist islands.

[3] This place belongs to the Laird of MacLeod, and the people there pay their rents in feathers of the solon geese, for which that laird’s factor goes thither annually.

[4] What a happy state of ignorance this is, if they are instructed in the true revealed religion, especially, if we consider the miseries of this busy world, governed only by ambition, pride, envy , and ill-will.

[5] This island is about one mile long, and half a mile broad.

[6] This island belongs to Lord Seaforth, and is inhabited by the MacKenzies.

[7] This man was generally cook, but the Prince was the best cook, and made them a cake or bread of the brains of the cow, mixed up with meal, and baked it upon a stone before the fire.

[8] Miss Flora Macdonald is daughter of Macdonald of Milton, in the island of Uist, descended from Clanranald’s family. Her father died when she was an infant, leaving one son and her. Her mother married again to one Hugh Macdonald of Armadale, in the isle of Skye; and has by him two sons and two daughters. This gentleman was esteemed the strongest man of the name Macdonald.

    Miss Flora was about 24 years of age, of middle stature, well shaped, and a very pretty, agreeable person, of great sprightliness in her looks, and abounded with good sense, modesty, good nature, and humanity.

[9] Lady Clanranald was taken prisoner soon after and put on board a man of war:  her husband was taken and put on board another, and conveyed to the Thames, and there lay some time; they were again carried up to London, and detained there, in custody of a messenger; the first at Mr. Money’s, and the latter, on the first of November, at Mr. William Dick’s, along with his brother, Captain Malcolm MacLeod of Boisdale, and Roger McNeal of Barra, Esq. In June following, he and his lady were dismissed. At the same time Mr. Dick brought in custody, from on board a ship, John Gordon, Esq., oldest son of the famous Glenbucket, who was most judiciously accused of reviewing his father’s troops; although, by the help of Dr. T--r, he had been quite blind for six years before; he also was discharged in June following.

[10] The language of the island

[11] All the miles mentioned in this work are Scots miles