“Now Gentlemen, hear this of me,

“You’re th’ soldi’rs of a people free,

“Not like the poor starv’d slaves in France,

“Bound to a Popish ordinance.

“I know there’s many of you here

“Who’ve shown your merit, that I can swear,

“Others, perhaps, n’er had occasion

“To show your valour in foreign nation,

“Yet think yourselves as good as they,

“I doubt not but part of you may;

“Tho’ native soil you’ve yet possest,

“In foreign land no foes have fac’d,

“You descend from men, as well as they,

“Who never turn’d their backs to fly:

“I hope you’re now resolv’d to fight

“All for your King and countries Right,

“’Gainst their rebellious resolution,

“Who’re for turning order to confusion,

“A set of plunderers and thieves,

“Which in ev’ry age disturbs and grieves:

“Ay, learn’d from their fathers they are,

“In troublous times to raise up war:

“Boasting themselves in bauling words,

“To do great actions with broad swords:

“I think they’ll prove to be small stops,

“In front of well disciplin’d troops.

“Stand and behold them in the face,

“And use your points in such a case.

“If you don’t fly and break your line,

“By swords you can no danger find;

“But when you turn your backs to fly,

“You throw honour and life away;

“You murder by this means yoursell,

“And foes encourage to excel.

“Think on Tourney and Fontenoy.

“Fear not this Rabble, who wou’d destroy

“All that’s good, if they had power.

“May heav’n protect us in battle hour!

“Remember you’re for a right cause,

“Against subverters of the laws.”

From Ed’nburgh town they march’d away

To Lithgow came that very day,

The Campbells on front also this night

Retook Falkirk, and put to flight

Part of the Highland troops were there,

Who straight for Stirling did repair;

But orders met them by the road,

That night to stop at the Torwood:

Because against the morning light,

Their army would be there on sight.

The council call’d at Bannockburn,

Where all agreed for to return

And fight the Duke, whate’er betide,

But his Lowland men would not ’bide;

These Nor’landers swore by their _saul_

That Cumberland would kill them all.

But the Highlanders made this reply,

That for their Prince they’d fight and die,

Where’er he went, they’d with him go

And face the Duke, tho’ ten for two.

So then to morrow by break of day,

The Northern men march’d all away;

And yet the Clans they were so kind

As offer to fight if he inclin’d.

But all agreed to take the rout,

More of the Clans for to recruit:

Then all of them took to their heels,

Kept no high road; but cros’d the fields,

The nearest way unto the Frew,

For otherwise it would not do,

Stirling Militia the bridge had cut,

And on the water there was no boat,

But what was broken or haul’d away,

To keep the Forth when north they lay.

Their cannon and baggage, all forsaken,

Lay round Stirling and soon was taken.

Their magazine of powder and ball,

Falkirk plunder, tents and all,

Were stor’d up in St. Ninian’s church,

An engineer enter’d the porch,

On purpose for to lay a train;

But too much haste did him atten’.

He broke one barrel, as they say,

Began the powder for to stray

All along upon the floor,

Without the threshold of the door.

Some people in the kirk there was,

The love of plunder was the cause,

The engineer backward did run,

And at the powder fir’d his gun,

Himself he thought quite secure too;

But to the air with it he flew.

Other eight persons there was slain,

And one blown up, but fell again,

So senseless, that he was thought dead,

As he lay on a midden-head.

He first fell on a thatched house,

Next on a midden, with a _souse_:

His clothes and hair were really sing’d,

Sat on the midden, curs’d and whing’d,

So stupid drove, knew not the cause

But own’d his mercy in such fa’s.

But others were in pieces torn,

And from the church a long way born;

One safe before the pulpit lay,

When all above was blown away:

This roar did him so stupid drive,

He knew not whether dead or alive;

In flames and smoak he was benighted,

And own’d that he was fairly frighted.

Charles and his court from a hill top,

Stood and beheld the catastrop’;

Then to the north they march’d away

Unto St. Johnston upon Tay.

This great explosion, I heard say,

Was heard full forty miles away.

Duke William at Lithgow heard th’ crack,

And cry’d, “Now Blackney’s gone to wreck,”

Not knowing what the meaning was,

Till in Falkirk he heard the cause,

Now all of them had cross’d the Forth

Quite o’er the hills into the North.

The Campbells, and some troops of horse,

That night arriv’d at Stirling cross,

Who came harrassing the retreat,

And pick’d some straglers by the _gate_:

Blackney also sallied out,

And catch’d some strollers thereabout.

Many of them were so mischiev’d,

It shocked nature to perceiv’t,

Legs and arms shot clean awa’,

And some wanting the nether-jaw;

Some were out of the trenches drawn,

Being bury’d alive ’midst the san’.

The Campbells kept upon the chace,

And pick’t ’em up in many a place.

Some cannon were found near the Frew,

Their horse, being weak, could not go thro’.

Much baggage left and several things,

With a Printing press, called the king’s,

Which back to Stirling was return’d,

While Charles, by Crief, to Perth adjourn’d.

CHAP. VII.

_The Duke’s arrival at Stirling. The Rebels’ Retreat, and the Rout

both Armies took to the North._

Soon after William to Stirling came,

With all his troops, a warlike ban’:

Reg’ments of foot, there were fourteen,

Sixteen field pieces of brass, full clean:

Kingston’s, Cobham’s, and Ker’s dragoons.

The trusty Campbells, all chosen ones,

With Hawley, Husk, and John Mordaunt,

Brave Ligonier he could not want,

With Cholmondely, bred soldiers all,

For battle ready at any call.

One day his march was here suspended,

The broken bridge for to get mended,

O’er which the foot were safely past,

And all the carriages at last.

The horsemen forded Forth at Drip,

Then to Dumblain they marched up.

While the army into Stirling lay,

They catched one they call’d a spy,

Whom Hawley, by some uncouth laws,

Condemn’d for carrying Charles’ pass,

Likewise another from the Duke,

Which made him more like traitor look,

Hawley seiz’d them, and with an oath

Swore he should be depriv’d of both:

Go, said he, and get a rope,

And take the dog and hing him up,

Which was no sooner said than done,

As soon’s the hangman could be foun’,

Without confession, or clergy’s stamp,

Was like a dog hung to a lamp.

Next day the duke went to Dumblane,

Campbells’ and th’ horse had Crief reta’en.

Here the Highlanders did divide,

Some took the hills, some water-side;

The highland road by bridge of Tay,

Or by Dundee, the sea-side way,

The horse and French brigades did chuse;

And the Highland roads did refuse,

So kept their rout north by Montrose,

While th’ others climb’d o’er hills and moss:

Short time they took in Perth to tarry,

All the stores they could not carry,

They threw into the river Tay,

With cannon they could not take ’way,

Thirteen of iron they spiked up,

And swivels of the Hazard sloop,

Which was taken off John’s haven,

By help of that town’s fisher-men.

Argyle Militia and the horse

To Perth straight came; but did not cross

The river Tay for to pursue,

Till the whole army came in view.

Some would have a party take the hill,

But to this the Duke deny’d his will,

And kept his march down by Dundee,

Thro’ towns that lay hard by the sea

Toward the town called Montrose,

And great resentment there he shows:

All the suspect’ did apprehend,

And south to Stirling did them send,

Where they’re detain’d close prisoner,

’Till ’bout the ending of the stir;

Many of them were innocent,

As afterwards was truly _kent_,

If ’twas not for their thought and wish:

For few durst say whose man he was

Who lived into such a clime,

And in such a critical time.

Thence he unto John’s-haven sent,

As being upon vengeance bent

For taking of the Hazard sloop,

And burnt their boats both _stoop and roop_.

Two off’cers here he also broke,

For their goodwill to Charlie’s folk,

The one’s sash was in pieces cut,

And quite out of the army put,

His sword was broke above his head;

Because he unto Charlie fled.

The other, because he stopt the plunder

Of th’ house of Gask, being sent under

Strict command, to do such duty;

But kept his party from the booty,

For which he got’s commission torn,

Himself depos’d with shame and scorn.

From thence they march’d to Aberdeen,

Where a storm of snow and frost full _keen_,

Which on the mountains some time lay,

Caus’d them into that town to stay.

Hesse’s band in Perth then quarter’d was,

And at Dunkeld keeped the pass,

The remains of Gardner’s broke dragoons

Kept Blair in Athole, and such towns:

These horsemen twice had suffer’d sore,

Here, by surprise, they suffer’d more:

As they next to the Highlands lay,

They _skelped_ at them night and day.

Being station’d in this utmost pass,

They bore the _brunt_ of all distress;

But the Hessians kept about Dunkeld,

And did into more safety dwell.

These Hessians were a warlike band,

Six thousand did their prince command,

Earl Crawford in their company,

To guide them thro’ the Scots country.

Their countenance was awful fierce,

They spake High-Dutch, or German Earse,

Had white buff-belts, and all blue clothes,

With a long beard beneath their nose,

And those who were in wedlock state,

Had all long whiskers, like the cat.

Their spatterdashes with pick were gilt,

And long swords with a brazen hilt,

Bars on the outside of the hand,

And in their guns an iron wand.

The finest music e’er you did hear

Would make one dance who could not stir,

Their whistles and drums in chorus join

Did cheer one’s heart, they played so fine:

Their grenadier’s had caps of brass,

Thus order’d were the men of Hesse,

Who camp’d for some time near Dunkeld,

And kept that pass, till they hear’d tell

How at Culloden all were broke,

And they had never fought a stroke,

Except one canonading bout;

The clans afar came on a scout

To view their camp from a hill top

Who soon retir’d when they drew up:

Whene’er their cannon began to play,

They skipt like rams and ran away,

Describ’d the Hessians ev’n as they can,

Said, “He was a blue and bloody man,

“His drums and guns pe ready, _got_

“Hersell pe rin, or else be shot.”

CHAP. VIII.

_Blowing up the Castle of Cargarf by the Earl of Ancram. Skirmishes

at Keith and Inverness, &c._

Now while the duke lay at Aberdeen,

From England did his troops maintain,

Brought in his stores ay by the sea,

And laid no stress on that country,

From thence the earl of Ancram went,

One hundred horse were with him sent,

Major Morris with three hundred foot,

Near to the head of Don they got,

To take the Castle of Cargarf,

But ere they came all were run aff,

Wherein was a large magazine

Of amunition, and arms clean,

Which did become the Earl’s prey;

But could not get it born away,

No horse he could get to employ,

Most of the spoil he did destroy,

’Bout thirty barrels of powder there,

Made soon that fort fly in the air,

And so returned to Aberdeen,

Long forty miles there were between.

Next Col’nel Stuart of Charlie’s band,

At Strathbogie he did command

One thousand foot, beside Hussars,

Who kept that country round as theirs:

Against him were sent on command

The generals Moredant and Bland;

But to Stra’bogie as they drew near,

Stuart did unto Keith retire.

Then captain Holden with volunteers

Follow’d in chase, as it appears,

Seventy Campbells by Bland were sent,

And thirty Kingston’s horse too went,

To clear the village of Keith while light,

And to Stra’bogie return that night:

But their presumption ran so high,

They ventur’d there that night to lye,

When Stuart return’d with secret pains,

Enter’d the town at both the ends,

And set upon them unawares,

Till few were left of men and horse:

Their loss was this, you may consider,

Because they were not got together.

The Campbells sold their lives like men,

And of the horsemen left were ten.

This did the Highlandmen revive,

And rais’d their sp’rits for more mischief,

And to the Duke’s men gave a caution,

Where to quarter on like occasion.

His army in three divisions lay,

The first at Strathbogie, they say,

Second at Old Meldrum, half-way between

Strathbogie town and Aberdeen,

The last at Aberdeen still lay,

Until April on the eighth day.

While Charles must the mountains keep,

Among the goats, cows and sheep,

His army sure was sorely spent,

Ere into Inverness he went,

Having nought but deserts by the way,

Want of meat and scant of pay.

Rivan of Badenoch they took,

And laid it flat on every _nuik_.

To Inverness when they drew near,

Lord Loudon did from it retire,

Having but sixteen hundred men

All newly rais’d, could not preten’

To face them fairly in open field:

Therefore, Retreat was safest bield.

Two companies he left behind,

The fort to major Grant resign’d,

To defend it to extremitie

Strict orders, thus to do or die,

But no sooner did Charles’ troops appear,

Than soldiers hearts did quake for fear,

And being threaten’d with a siege

They durst not stand their spiteful rage.

So town and castle became his own,

The fort was levell’d with the groun’.

Lord Loudon fled but little way,

The firth of Murray between them lay,

Perth and Cromartie play’d a _brogue_,

Assisted by a hazie fog,

Unexpectedly sallying over,

Upon them fell, and would not hover,

Till many they in pieces cut,

Some officers they pris’ners got:

As before them they could not stand,

Being forc’d to flee from Sutherland.

Another party at castle of Blair,

Had beat the Duke’s detachment there;

This gave the king’s army some pain,

And rais’d their Highland blood again.

Fort Augustus too they did attack,

And in short time beat it to wreck:

Three companies of Guise’ therein,

’Gainst Highland fury not worth a pin:

Major Wentworth did here command,

Who had not force them to withstand,

None stood but Fort William now,

And it in haste they ’sieged too.

A large detachment chosen was;

Of artillery the best he has,

Commanded by brave Stapleton,

A French brig’dier of great renown.

On the third of March at Glenavis,

Which opposite Fort William is,

The first attack began at sea,

Betwixt the Baltimore and he,

A sloop then lying at Fort William,

Into the straits of Carrion,

Stapleton siezing of their boat,

Thought t’ master them with num’rous shot:

The Serpent sloop, captain Askew

Caus’d man his boat, with other two,

And soon were master of Carrion,

Where put to flight was Stapleton.

Their next ’ttempt was Kilmadie barns,

Where many shot were thro’ the _herns_:

Yet the Baltimore she could not stand it,

Nor could their troops at all get landed:

For shells and cannons play’d so fast,

Their engineer they kill’d at last.

The Baltimore she could not take it,

Forc’d to sheer off and so forsake it,

Some prisoners of Guise’s men,

In this hurry did liberty gain,

During the time the parties fir’d,

Took to their heels and so retir’d,

And got safe to the garrison,

Without the reach of Stapleton.

Now for some time they stopped were,

Thro’ loss of their chief engineer,

And ere another fill’d his place,

The garrison had their wall in case,

Their bastions raised seven feet high,

Ere the besiegers did draw nigh.

It was on March the twenti’th day,

Their battery began to play,

From a hill top, call’d Sugar loaf,

Eight hundred yards, or thereby off:

Their shots fell weak and came too short,

Some fell before they reach’d the fort:

Cohorns, bombs and a twelve pounder

In vain at such a distance thunder.

Finding their batt’ry was too far,

They erect another half way nigh’r;

But being in a hollower place,

It did not alter much the case,

Except the cohorns and some bombs

Broke some roofs, beat down two _lums_;

Three men indeed they did dissable,

And kill’d a poor horse in a stable.

Stapleton a French _Tambour_ sent,

Beating a parly on he went:

The captain ask’d for what he came?

He said, From gen’ral Stapleton,

To you, Sir Governor, with this letter,

’Tis to surrender, You can’t do better.

Then to your Gen’ral this answer give,

“No letters from rebels I’ll receive,

“I shall do better, and him defy,

“Ev’n to the last extremity.”

The drummer return’d to Stapleton,

O then a fierce bombard went on,

For several hours on either side,

At last the garrison laid their pride,

By tearing their chief battery,

Flat with the ground they made it ly,

And many buried were therein,

Besides the wounded that did run,

The people within the garrison,

Without the houses keeped none,

For being wounded with the slate,

During the hurry of this heat:

The rest behind the ramparts stood,

And so were free from wounds and blood.

Thus in a rage, before they tir’d,

Near two hundred royal were fir’d,

With sixteen cannons, ’gainst the fort,

As afterwards they did report:

Yet did no harm was worth a fig,

But a poor soldier lost his leg.

And on the morrow when day appear’d,

The garrison their trenches clear’d.

Then for a day they let them _slack_,

Another batt’ry to erect,

Nearer the Fort one hundred yard

At which no labour there was spar’d.

At this time, a party sallied out

To make provision in, no doubt,

Who spar’d no bullock, sheep or cow,

Some prisoners they in brought too

From the laird of Apin’s estate,

Burnt every house came in their _gate_,

And those who did resistance shew,

They made no stop to run them thro’.

Their ships came in with meal and bread

So to hold out they had no dread.

Now when the last batt’ry was raised,

To fire again they soon practis’d;

The garrison too began a fresh,

And soon their batt’ry down did thresh.

At last their powder store took fire,

Which dash’d the gunners here and there.

The garrison perceiv’d the case,

And took advantage in short space,

Twelve men out of each companie,

Then sallied out couragiouslie,

And set upon them without dread,

Till many on the place lay dead,

One serjeant of the Campbells slain

The rest victorious turn’d again.

Into the Fort with them they drew

Three brazen cannons and mortars two,

Spik’d up the rest but only five,

At which they could not get a _drive_:

Yet timely retreat safety procur’d,

Or with numbers they’d been o’erpowr’d.

Stapleton did yet again direct

Another batt’ry there to make;

But at that time came an express

Forthwith to march for Inverness.

Thus on the third day of April,

From the third of March a dreary while.

They left their cannon and took the rout

But never more came thereabout.

Now another party prince Charles had

At the castle of Blair prosper’d as bad,

Under lord George Murray’s command,

Who took this doughty deed in hand,

For to conquer this castle of Blair:

The duke of Athole oft lived there,

Who was upon the Georgian side,

And had the Stewarts oft aid deny’d.

The garrison therein was few,

Commanded by Andrew Agnew,

An old Scots Worthy, I well may say,

No better soldier was in’s day.

He could do more by wiles and flight,

Than those who were five hundred weight;

He did defend them in such ways,

The siege prolong’d for several days.

Till word reach’d the camp at Dunkeld

How with Sir Andrew it befel.

Earl Crawford with the Hessian men,

Two troops of horse to him did sen’;

In all great haste they march’d away;

But Murray got other fish to fry:

For he receiv’d a hot express,

Forthwith to come to Inverness,

That very day that Stapleton

Left the siege of Fort-William.

All parties of the Chevalier

Did to their head quarters draw near,

By which Sir Andrew relief had,

And made this siege a fair blockade.

Here the wheel it turn’d, I trow,

And luck to Charles bad adieu.

’Tis oft misfortunes come together,

Or after one mischief another,

His men half mad for want of pay,

Had little to eat, what’s worse, I say?

Being hemm’d in on ev’ry side,

Among the hills and muirs so wide.

On the Hazard sloop they did depen’,

Which went to France for money and men:

As back and fore she oft did go,

Her name’s changed to Prince Charles’ Snow:

On her return, unluckilie,

Met with the Sheerness sloop, at sea,

Commanded by Captain O’Brian,

With whom she fought but did not gain

The day, nor yet could get away;

But was chas’d into Tongue-bay,

Where she upon the shallows ran,

And in the fight lost many a man.

O’Brian enrag’d still kept the sea,

But mann’d his boat right hastilie:

For fifty leagues they gave her chace,

And forc’d them to land in this place;

Into the country of lord Rea,

From whence they no relief could ha’e.

His lordship’s house it was near by,

Just then was there captain Mackay

My lord’s son, with Henry Monroe,

Lord Charles Gordon was there also,

Captain MacLeod a trusty han’,

And fourscore of lord Loudon’s men,

Who had fled there from Inverness

When Perth had put them in distress,

And as the crew came to the land,

As pris’ners they’re compell’d to stand,

One hundred men and fifty-six

As prisoners they here did fix,

Soldiers, sailors and gentlemen,

War-officers from France and Spain,

Who were to join Charles the Prince;

But bold O’Brian did them convince,

That such a thing was not to be:

To Aberdeen the whole sent he,

With the crew of a French priv’teer

Who off the Orkney’s cruising were.

Besides the arms found in her hold,

Thirteen thousand _guineas_ of gold,

Brave O’Brian thus carry’d away

On March the five and twenti’th day.

This was bad luck for Charles too;

For wanting money what could he do,

They had no meal, mutton or beef,

Of cheese and butter no relief:

The cry among them night and day,

Was, _Give me money, meat or pay_.

CHAP. IX.

_Kings Army pass the Spey. Battle of Culloden. Defeat of the

Rebels, &c._

Upon the eight day of April,

When air and season sweet did smile,

Duke William then began to move,

The time and season to improve;

Towards the Spey he did approach,

By wary steps and easy voy’ge:

His fleet on sea no faster steer’d,

Than he upon the land appear’d,

Until they reach’d the banks of Spey:

On the north side great Charles lay,

To keep the fords was their intent;

But see’ng the cannon durst not resent,

Planted to cover the only pass,

Where the safe passage unto them was:

So in all haste they _scowr’d_ away,

And let them freely pass the Spey.

Argyle’s men and lord Kingston’s horse,

Did first of all the water cross,

And after them the grenadiers

To keep the front, if need appears:

For the Duke had always in his thought,

That crossing Spey would be dear bought;

But when he found no opposition,

Of other schemes he had suspicion:

Wherein he did conjecture right,

Altho’ the plot came not to light:

That in the night he’d be attacked,

Which by ill conduct was not acted.

Thus over Spey all safely came,

That rapid river and _stalward_ stream;

Th’ English women not us’d with wading,

Being loth to lift up their plaiding

Went in with petticoats and all,

Which _fagg’d_ their feet and made them fall.

A trooper thinking lives to save,

With them too got a wat’ry grave,

The flood but to men’s middle went,

They were with fording unacquaint:

Cold water struck the women’s belly,

It made them both prove faint and silly.

One horseman, and four women that day,

Were drown’d in crossing of the Spey:

From other harms cannons did cover,

And still they form’d as they came over,

For to engage kept always ready,

Caus’d pipes play _Fair play, Highland laddie_.

To Elgin town they march’d that night,

As the Highland core had ta’en their flight,

From thence to Nairn on the next day,

There on the fifteenth encamped lay,

Where the Duke’s birth was celebrate,

And Charles’ intent was to be at it;

But when near to the camp they came,

They could not execute their plan:

For Murray and Sulli. could not agree,

On what side the attack should be:

For want of courage in such a plight,

They argu’d till the morning light,

Then the Duke’s drums fell a beating,

And they thought fit to be retreating:

So this attempt prov’d nought at all,

But saving of their powder and ball.

Now Charlie and his noblemen,

In council night and day were then,

And in their schemes could not agree,

Where ACHITOPHELS among them be;

Some for this, and some for that,

Long time they in confusion sat:

Some did incline to fight at Spey,

And of all fords to stop the way;

But Tullibardine and Sullivan,

Were quite upon another plan,

To let the Duke free passage have,

And no disturbance there to give;

But lead him to some ugly ground,

Where cannon and horse were useless found:

So pitch’d upon Culloden place,

Where dykes and bogs might vex his Grace;

In hopes, cannon could not get there,

Which was great pain, I must declare,

The way so rough was, and so ill,

But drawn by men were up the hill.

The Duke his march made very slow,

Being form’d in lines as on they go:

In four columns they march’d away,

On cannon and baggage, made them stay,

Did front and rear in a body keep,

Except the Campbells, who ran like sheep,

With Kingston’s horse as spies and van,

From hill to hill they skipt and ran,

Back and fore had many a bout,

Act as Jackals to search them out,

And that day near the hour of twelve,

At Culloden house found them all.

---- The Highland army here were ranged,

That no position could be changed,

Twelve piece of cannon; but highly mounted;

By which the gunners were affronted:

For should they level ere so low,

Shot, down the hill is loth to go;

And though they ply’d them ne’er so warm

In such a posture could not harm.

But the Duke’s cannon so conceal’d,

They thought he’d got none on that field,

In the centre-line he did them screen,

That they at all could not be seen.

Straight on their front he did advance,

On right and left his made a stance:

From Charles’ batt’ry the fire began

By gunners who no honour wan.

The Duke perceiving that his left,

Would be took weak, for such a drift

Of the stout Clans were coming on them,

Sent Bland and Hawley to wait ’pon them,

With foot and horse and Campbells too,

As good as ere _cauld_ iron drew.

Then seeing all in order right,

The signal gave for bloody fight.

His front to fall some paces back,

And then the cannon began to crack.

Grape them, Grape them, did he cry,

Then rank and file he made them ly;

When bags of balls were fir’d at once,

Where they did spread, hard was the chance:

It hew’d them down, aye, score by score,

As grass doth fall before the mow’r.

Breaches they made as large and broad,

As avenues _in thro’_ a wood;

And then such terror on them fell,

That what to do they could not tell;

Whether that they should fight or flee,

Or with the rest, stand there and die.

They had no conduct to consider,

Or in a body rush together;

But some drew back, others advanc’d,

They all into confusion launch’d.

But M‘Phersons, Cam’rons and the Steuarts,

Who did disdain the name of cowards,

All rush’d on, quite void of fright,

And chused death before a flight,

Struck Barrel’s regiment on the flank,

For two companies they made a blank,

Wolf’s Bligh’s and Semple’s were attacked;

But sore for this they were corrected.

For Bland and Hawley came on behind ’em,

Campbells and light horse, which so confin’d ’em

Between two fires, and bay’nets fixt,

That few got off being so perplext.

The Campbells threw down a stone wall,

To let the horsemen on them fall,

Who with sword in hand put them to flight,

And could no longer stand the fight.

Yet many, in rage, came rushing on,

Till bay’nets thro’ their backs were gone,

The bright points on the other side;

So bravely was their valour try’d.

If all their front had so come on,

I know not how the day had gone;

Their lives they did not sell for nought,

The Duke himself, own’d they were bought.

Those on the left stood still as stupid,

Some would advance, others back skipped:

Dreadful cannons on them did blatter,

Till at the last they’re forc’d to scatter.

The French Brigades, who puff’d so hie,

Into a bogue were fain to flee:

Great Stapleton their Brigadier,

In every _spaul_ did quake for fear,

Fitz James’s horse, for all their pride,

Unto the rear were fain to ride.

The Duke’s right stood and saw the fun,

Some reg’ments never fir’d a gun;

They only twice or thrice presented,

But seeing them run it was prevented:

For the order was, that fire they don’t,

Till within few paces of their front.

So when they see’d them so present,

Back they fled with one consent,

Brandisht their swords and pistols fir’d,

Some threw their durks and then retir’d.

The Hussars likewise took the flight,

And never did presume to fight;

But left their leader on the field,

Who as pris’ner was forc’d to yield.

The noble Earl of Kilmarnock,

Whose head was from his body struck,

Afterwards, upon Tower-hill;

Great pity ’twas this Lord to kill!

Were it but for his lenity

To prisoners before that day,

He favour shew’d to many a hunder

And in no case would hear of plunder.

Now Charles, the Prince yet kept the field,

And loth was he to flee or yield:

Major Kennedy with some troops of horse,

Out of the field he did him force,

About five miles from Inverness,

The water of Nairn they did pass,

As they had been for Bad’noch bound;

But spread throughout the country round.

And those behind on field who staid,

Ran ev’ry where, be’ng so afraid;

But those who ran by Inverness,

Were hotly handled in the chase.

Lord Ancram and general Bland,

This fierce pursuit they took in hand.

With Kingston’s horse and Kerr’s dragoons,

They thro’ the bonnets clave their crowns,

Struck with such vigour and desperation,

Some hands were swell’d on this occasion,

Within the hilting of the sword,

That to pull out, they seem’d full _gourd_.

They would not yield as vanquish’d men,

Such discipline they did not _ken_,

To ground their arms or turn their sword,

Nor knew they ought of Quarters word;

But _madly run_, was all their chance,

And never turn’d to make defence.

The pursuers had them at their will,

Nought but follow and safely kill.

Some hundreds who fell that day,

Were a mean of throwing their life away.

Two thousand lay upon the field,

And those who took flight for their bield,

Through Inverness and all about,

Were hew’d down in this bloody rout:

For Kingston’s men were young and rude,

Of mercy nought they understood,

When answer’d by a Highland tongue;

But used cruelty all along.

Of prisoners were told and seen,

Full seven hundred and fifteen;

But many more were after this,

Which not into this number is;

Lord Lewis Gordon, marquis of Giles.

And Stapleton this number fills,

Four ladies too, here taken was,

And one of them into man’s dress,

Who as a Captain did appear,

In fighting for her Chevalier.

Five thousand stand of arms were found,

Ten brazen cannons, smart and sound,

Twelve stand of colours were ta’en, I know,

’Twas the Royal Standard’s fate also

For to be left, that fatal hour,

On the field of Culloden Muir,

With the baggage and milit’ry chest

(Its contents did of nought consist.)

Then brigadier Mordaunt was sent,

Nine hundred chosen with him went,

For to subdue all arm’d who were,

Into the Frazer’s country there,

Search’d ev’ry corner and each _quorum_,

Thinking that Charles was still before ’em.

Strathallan fell when on his flight,

Lord Balmarino the next night,

Into the hands of Grant he fell,

Who made him pris’ner, as they tell,

And to the Duke sent him also,

Who soon to London made him go,

And with him many a hundred more,

To English jails and London-tower,

Cargoes by sea were sent away;

But to return ne’er saw the day.

Now Charlie safe to Bad’noch rode,

Where council held, and they conclude,

That all of them should sep’rate be,

And differ’nt ways for safety flee,

For the miscarriage of their plan,

They blam’d both Murray and Sullivan,

For sending some brave Clans away,

A hunting of the _Gowke_ that day.

Earl Cromartie and hundreds more,

Were taken that morning before,

Being sent home to’s own countrie,

For raising men and more supplie.

Lord Rae’s militia, hearing this,

Upon him came at unawares:

As each mischief follow’d another,

Things went to wreck just altogether,

Their parting was at Badenoch,

With wat’ry eyes and loud _Och-hoch_:

Their bag-pipes mournfully did _rore_,

And _Piperoch Dhonail_ was no more.

This was a day of lamentation,

Made many brave men leave their nation.

Their eyes were open’d, all was vain,

Now grief and sorrow was their gain.

[Illustration: A PLAN of the BATTLE of CULLODEN MUIR.

NORTH SIDE.

The D. of Perth and L. Ogilvy’s Reg. not to fire Inverness

without Orders, and to keep close up as fresh Corps ⌂⌂ Town

of Reserve. Total 8350.

__________________________________________________

C. Roy Stewart L. L. Gordon and Those of the above

and those of Glenbucket’s to be who have only guns,

the above who ready to advance under Lord Kilmar-

have only Guns. when needful. nock’s command.

______________ _______________ ________________

3rd Column. Pretender’ First Column.

2nd Column.

___________ Fitz James Culloden Hussar Guards. ____________

___________ Horse. ⌂⌂ & P. Squadron. ____________

___________________________ House _____________________________

Brig. Stapleton’s Pic. L. J. Drum. Picquet.

Athole. Stewarts. Frasers. M‘Intosh. M‘Leans. Keppoch.

Camerons. M‘Phersons. M‘Intosh. Farqhar. MacLeods. Clanron. Glengary.

________ _______ ________ _______ ________ _______ ________

4 | | | | Cannon. 4 | | | | Cannon. 4 | | | | Cannon.

L. George Murray. L. John Drummond. Duke of Perth.

_The HIGHLAND ARMY._

WEST EAST

SIDE. SIDE.

_The KING’S ARMY._

____________ ___________ _________ __________

| Barrel’s and S. Fuzileer’s Cholmon Dragoons and

| Monroe’s. and Price’s. & Royals. Light Horse.

| |||| |||| ||

| 4 Can. 4 Can. 2 C.

|

| Here stood the DUKE.

| _______ ________ _________ ___________ __________ ___________

| Wolf’s. Bligh’s. Semple’s. Ligonier’s. Fleming’s. Old Buff’s.

| ___________ __________ ___________

| Blackney’s. Batterau’s. Poultney’s.

¦>|

¦ Three regiments marching in

¦ cover’d way towards the park.

¦

¦Campbell’s Light-Horse and Dragoons,

broke down this Park Dyke.

SOUTH SIDE.

]

CHAP. X.

_Charles’ flight. Arrival in the Isles. Hardships, hidings and

narrow escape._

The Prince from Badenoch that night,

Over the mountains took his flight.

With only six in’s company,

And one who led them on the way.

O’er many a rock, thro’ glens they past,

And to Invergary came at last.

About two hours ere break of day;

But none within that house did stay,

Only one servant, the laird being gone,

Bed or provisions there were none:

No drink but water to be had,

On the cold floor he made his bed,

All in their clothes thus sleeping lay,

Till near the middle of the day:

Having had no sleep five nights before,

And little food, you may be sure.

No bread or cheese there could they find,

Or ought to eat of any kind.

No living poultry could they get;

But in the water found a net,

Wherein two salmon were present,

Which they took as a blessing sent,

And on them heartily did dine,

Having no liquor but Adam’s wine.

Then to their journey set again,

For Donald Cam’ron’s at Glen Bean,

Where they arrived late that night,

Thro’ Lochiel’s country, ’twas their fright

Of being known by friends or foes:

He drest himself into Burke’s clothes,

The rest be’ng gone but only three,

No more was in his companie.

Then on the morrow, the eighteenth day,

To Clan-Ronnald’s country took their way,

And in Mewboll lodged that night,

Being kindly us’d, but still in fright,

Delay’d next day some hours, to hear

How all was gone; but yet for fear

They quit their horse, and took the hill,

O’er mountains climb’d scarce passible,

To Arisaig or Borasdale:

And here themselves they did conceal

At Kinloch Moidart, where they lay,

Not knowing what to do or say.

There came lord Elcho and O’Neil,

Who to their Prince did plainly tell

How all had gone at Inverness,

Since the fatal day of their distress;

That all the Clans were scattered,

So as rally again, they ne’er cou’d;

For the Duke had parties ev’rywhere

To burn and plunder, none did spare

Who with them were the least concern’d,

So where to flee must be determin’d.

Here Sullivan and many more

Their council gave as bad’s before,

Their Prince to flee into some isle,

And there to ly _incog._ a while,

Sending for one Donald MacLeod,

Who knew the isles and safest road.

And while they were a-planning this,

An alarm came for to dismiss,

A party coming was that way,

Direct as knowing where they lay,

Then to the woods all of them fled,

Took sundry ways be’ng sore afraid.

The Prince himself bewilder’d ran,

And with him there was not a man,

Being thus dejected and all alone,

Thro’ the wild woods he made his moan.

While thus he melancholy lay,

MacLeod came past on’s road from Sky;

The Prince cried boldly, What art thou?

And he reply’d, What’s that to you?

My name’s MacLeod, from Gaultergill,

I’m not afraid it to reveal.

Then said the Prince, ’Tis thee I want,

I am the man who for thee sent,

The Son of your King, your Prince I am,

And for your pity here I came.

On you, Donald, myself I throw,

Do what you will, prove friend or foe.

Then Donald, in tears, stood all amaz’d,

With dumb surprize he on him gaz’d:

My Prince, my Prince and here to lurk!

Oh! this would move the heart of Turk,

To see the turns of time and fate,

From honour to a wretched state;

I’m old, I’m old, thus did he cry;

Yet t’ serve my Prince I’d live and die.

Then said the Prince, Since it is so,

With these two letters, wilt thou go,

To Sir Alexander? though that he

And th’ laird of MacLeod’s my enemie,

I’ll yet their clemency request,

If humanity lies in their breast,

In noble hearts pity is found,

They’ll land me safe on German ground.

No, no, said Donald, that will not do;

For now they’re both in search of you:

But my service sha’n’t cost you a groat,

Near this there lies an eight oar’d boat,

Get all you have, ready on sight,

And we will go on board this night.

To this the Prince did well comply,

They went in search of all was nigh,

To wit, brave O’Neil and Sullivan

With Allan M‘Donald of Elen-o-ron,

Alex. M‘Donald, Edward Burke,

And four stout men the boat to work,

Donald MacLeod was pilot too,

No more were in his retinue.

For store they had four pecks of meal,

A pot they bought for making kail:

This was on April twenty-sixth,

They put to sea, full sore perplext,

At the same place he came on shore,

When first he landed the year before.

Dark was the night, the wind blew high,

The rain drove on, black was the sky,

No deck or cover was to be got,

Pump or compass had they not;

Before the wind they durst not stand;

Because they knew not where to land:

In all the Isles were armed men;

But in what place they did not ken.

Ev’ry wave threat’ning their last,

And shipt great seas, which o’er them past;

Yet kept above from sand and rock,

Till to morrow ’bout seven o’clock,

They made Rushness-point, on the long isle,

Call’d _Benbecula_ in Gallic style,

Two hundred miles in eight hours space,

Past many a rock and dang’rous place,

Where militia boats were out on spy,

Which otherwise he’d not got by:

But this vi’lent storm they could not stand,

All fled for shelter to the land.

Now on this isle they landed were;

But found no house or shelter there,

Except an old stye of a byre,

Wherein they kindled up a fire,

Shot a cow and did her boil,

And made fine brochan of her oil.

The place was hollow and remote,

Upon dry land hauld up their boat;

But when they view’d the raging sea,

They prais’d their Maker heartilie,

To think what dangers they’d come by

’Twixt the isles of Cole, Mull and Skye.

The storm it still increased high’r,

For fourteen hours it blew like fire.

They spy’d, for dangers, round about,

And then to sleep their prince was put.

No bed-clothes but the sail all wet,

Without straw, bolster, or a matt,

Where cows had lain all night before,

A poor palace without a door,

A bed of state, all wet with _shern_:

This may the great humil’ty learn.

Here they remain’d for nights two,

Until the storm did overblow:

And then for Stornaway set sail,

But meeting with a desp’rate gale,

Were drove on _Scalpa_-isle, or _Glass_,

Which to one MacLeod belonging was,

By whom they wou’d been _gripped_ fast;

But for a shipwreckt crew they past,

Old Sullivan the Prince’s father,

And ev’ry one gave names to other.

They said, they were to Orkneys bound,

And here great lenity they found

From Donald Campbell, a farmer there,

Who for a passage did prepare

A boat of his own for Stornaway.

Which went off on the first of May,

With Donald MacLeod, his trusty guide,

Who went a vessel to provide,

To get to the Orkneys by all means:

For there he thought to meet with frien’s,

Who, well he knew, would use their pow’r,

To land him on the German shore.

And in three days a message came,

That a ship was ready at his deman’.

Another boat was mann’d with speed,

And to Storn’way they did proceed,

Landing upon MacKinnon’s ground

At Loch Seaforth, then to walk round,

Long thirty miles, upon their foot,

Before to Ayrnisk point they got.

None with him but only Sullivan,

Brave O’Neil and another man,

Who was to guide them on the way;

Yet by good chance led them astray:

Long eighteen hours this stage it was,

Through a long Muir all wet to _plash_:

But had they come the nearest way,

They had been catch’d in Stornaway.

About a half mile from the town,

Faint and weary they all sat down,

And sent their guide for Donald MacLeod,

To bring refreshment if he cou’d,

Who brought them brandy, cheese and bread,

Which cheer’d their hearts in time of need.

Then took him to Lady Kildoun’s,

The only friend found in that bounds,

Who kindly did them all intreat

And well refresh’d he went to sleep.

So Donald return’d into the town,

And found all to confusion grown,

Above two hundred in arms were,

And _furich ha nish_ every where.

A clergyman from the South Uist

He sent a letter, for truth almost,

That the Prince, with above five hunder,

Was coming for to burn and plunder.

Then Donald to their Chiefs did go,

And curs’d and swore it was not so:

For the Prince has not got a man but three,

And I one of his number be.

So gentlemen, think what you do,

Lest, when too late, you come to rue;

For if Seaforth himself were here,

A hair of’s head you durst not _steer_;

For, if you kill him, or catch alive,

Think not for such an act to thrive.

This island lies far out at sea,

In faith it will revenged be

By favourites he hath abroad,

So stop your fury, cries brave MacLeod,

For surely, gentlemen, if you do it,

Your babes unborn may come to rue it.

Then said they, Well, since it is so,

Out of this island let him go;

For if the rabble come to hear it,

They’ll do it through a zealous sp’rit.

The wind is fair and so be gone,

We’ll still the people and send them home.

Keep all right snug and let none know

Whether he’s in this isle or no.

The boatmen hearing of such a rout,

And fearing what might be their lot,

Two with the boat fled to the sea,

And two up to the muirs did hie.

MacLeod and Burke, here left on shore,

Went to their Prince with hearts full sore.

Cry’d Sullivan, We’ll take the hill,

No, said the Prince, We’ll stand it still:

Since here is friendship in the least,

Take ye no fear, we’ll be releas’d,

So in that night return’d again

Their boat from sea, with the two men;

But the other two who took the hill,

Where they ran I cannot tell.

Next morn they put to sea again,

Though hard beset for want of men,

Having only three who understood

Either to row, or sail to crowd.

For store they got two pecks of meal,

Brandy, beef, butter and ale,

So bid adieu to brave Kildoun,

As to the Orkneys they were boun’.

But to the south as they did steer,

Two English ships there did appear,

Which made them all in haste to turn,

And put into the isle of Euirn,

A desart place, where none abode,

One mile in length, another broad,

Where fishers oft frequent by day;

But seeing them all fled away,

Thinking they were the King’s press-boat,

Their fish behind was all forgot,

Both fresh and drying on the rock,

Of Cod and Ling, the poor men’s stock;

And here they stay’d a day or two,

Until the ships were out of view,

And on the fish well did they fare,

Although their lodging was but bare,

An old hut, like a swine’s stye

Which fishers us’d to occupy:

They had no bed but heathry feal,

The hut’s roof cover’d with the sail.

They roasted fish and brandy drank,

No host they had to pay or thank.

For what they did the fishers bereave,

He was amind money to leave:

But Donald says, No not a _snishing_;

For that would cause a strong suspicion,

That some good fellows had been here;

Therefore be not so mad, my dear,

For ’tis the men of wars’ men’s way,

To take all fish, but not to pay.

Now here to stay they thought was vain,

On the tenth of May set sail again,

And back to Scalpa came once more,

Where they were kindly us’d before,

And offer’d money for men and boat;

But such a thing could not be got,

To venture with them out to sea,

To Noraway or Germanie.----

But here they found danger to stay,

So in all haste they put away;

For men in arms in ev’ry place,

In search of him were in full chace.

Ships and boats watching by sea,

So without fresh store they’re forc’d to flee:

And coming past the South of Uist,

An English ship before they wist,

Commanded by one Ferguson,

For three full leagues came chasing on:

They kept by shore, to windward lay,

Till in the Loch call’d Esca-bay.

Got on an island, and then by chance,

Wind contrary rose and drove them thence.

Rain and fog did favour shew,

So who they chac’d they did not know.

Well, said Charles, I see my lot

Is neither to be drown’d nor shot,

Nor can they e’er take me alive,

While wind and rain against them strive.

Yet piercing hunger’s hard command:

For here no fresh water they _fand_,

And to big isles they durst not go;

But such as were a mile or two.

So here they were so hard bestead,

Of salt water they _dramack_ made,

And of it hastily did eat,

Hunger for sauce, made it good meat.

If e’er I mount a throne, said he,

I’ll mind who din’d this day with me.

A bottle of brandy then he took,

And to them all drank _better luck_.

So then for _Benbecula_,

They hoisted sail, and steer’d awa’:

And landed there among the rocks,

Where Crab-fish and Partan flocks,

To fishing these, with speed went all,

And soon did fill a wooden pail.

The hut was two miles from the shore,

Where Charles carried this store,

Lest suspicion should arise,

This he did for mere disguise:

And when near to this hut they drew,

Such a cottage one did ne’er view,

On feet and hands they _crawled_ in,

Sowre was the smoke their eyes to blin’:

Then Edward Burke digg’d down the door

And made the entry somewhat more.

’Twas here Clan-Ron. did visit make,

To see what measures they could take,

For sending him to France again,

To see him so, it gave him pain,

No shirts he had excepting two,

And these unwash’d like _dish-clouts_ blue;

Sculking, lurking, here and there,

A prey to all like hounds on hare,

Though in times of prosperity,

He was extoll’d most gallantly.

Thus he no longer here could trust;

But to Cardail into South Uist,

He caus’d him to remove and go,

And did provide for him also

Bread, brandy, wine and clothes,

And such necess’ries as he chose.

At this time the faithful MacLeod,

In Campbell’s boat the sail did croud,

And steer’d for the main land again;

How matters stood he long’d to _ken_

With brave Lochiel and Murray too,

And have their council what to do.

Murray’s answer was, My money’s gone,

And help from me you can get none.

Then Donald laid out what cash he had

For liquor and for other trade,

Whereof his master stood in need,

And so return’d again with speed,

Being only eighteen days away,

Which to his Prince seem’d a long stay.

No counsel he brought, as I heard tell;

But ev’ry man do for himsel,

Which made his Master quite amaz’d,

And for a time he on him gaz’d:

It pierced Donald’s heart to see

A Prince into such misery,

Confin’d into a stinking stye,

And ’bove his head two hydes of _kye_,

To skonce away the sooty rain.

And all his clothes in dirty stain.

At this time soldi’rs came to Raski,

An island, in length but miles three,

Lying ’twixt Barra and South Uist;

And therefore flee again he must.

The Prince, O’Neil and Sullivan,

Edward Burke and Donald the man,

Just from the foot of Corradail,

In Campbell’s boat they did set sail,

And landed in the isle of Ouia,

From South Uist not far awa’,

And there they stayed a few nights;

But constantly were in sad _plights_:

For armed boats still passing by,

They knew not where to hide or ly.

Charles, O’Neil and a sure guide,

Went thence unto Rushness to hide;

But was not there above nights two,

Till information was all thro’,

Where he lodged at Rushness,

Which trusty Donald did distress:

So he, that night, with Sullivan

Set sail, to save him if they can,

And got him once more safe on board;

But wind and rain upon him pour’d:

So at Ushness point they shelter took,

And lodg’d under a clifted rock.

This storm it did the whole day blow,

And then at night they came to know

Of a party, distant, but miles two:

So to sea again they’re forced to go.

And as they steer’d to Loch Boisdale,

One of the sailors a swearing fell,

He saw a boat full of Marines,

Which prov’d a rock at some distance.

Cry’d, Hardy weather, and ship about,

Then to Celie-stella that night they put.

On next day Donald spy’d afar,

Two sail of English men of war;

Yet here they stayed for some days,

And could not rest in any ways.

Hearing captain Scot on shore was come

At Kilbride, two miles off from them.

Thus now they all were forc’d to part,

Their Prince went off with heavy heart,

And with him took none but O’Neil,

Whose heart he found as true as steel.

Two shirts apiece, for baggage they took,

Tied up into a wallet or pock,

Around the Prince’s neck and shoulder,

Like master and man they trudge together.

So here we leave them for a while

In lonesome caves and mountains wild.

The others two days hover’d near,

And sunk their boat through perfect fear,

Both night and day lay in the field,

Nought but the sails they had for bield,

The red coats swarming all around,

And yet by chance none of them found.

Then Donald MacLeod he went away,

And was ta’en at Slate in isle of Sky,

By Allan M‘Donald, the laird of Knock,

Who him on board the Furnace took,

Where gen’ral Campbell and Ferguson

For to examine him thus began----

_Gen._ Was you with the Pretender, or was you no?

_Heth_ was I, _quoth_ Donald, and that you know.

_Gen._ Do you know what’s bidden for his head?

Thirty thousand pound, a bra’ sum indeed!

_Prutish_, quo’ Donald, it’s no worth a straw,

Her ain sound conscience is better nor’t a’:

Tho’ I’d got Scotland and England, a’ for my pains,

I wadna see him hurt, for your muckle gains.

He’s a good civil shentleman, his life on me threw,

Wad I kill him, or drown him, or gie him to you.

And deil care what ye do, he’s now far awa’,

The win ran awa’ wi’m, the like you ne’er saw:

For the win and water, Sir, did sae combine,

Carri’d him twa hunder mile in aught hours time,

They thought Donald a fool of the honest kind,

He confessed so freely all to their mind,

Suppos’d the Prince might lurking stay

Into the isle of St. Kilday,

A little island which does stand,

Far nor-west from isles or land,

The property of the laird MacLeod,

A barren soil, and poor abode,

Famed most for Soland Geese;

Sea fowl and fish their living is:

And there they thought, as Donald spake

The Young Pretender for to take.

Poor Donald to London they sent away,

Where he twelve months in prison lay;

Yet got his liberty at last,

When the act-indemnity was past.

Gen’ral Campbell with an armed fleet,

Around St. Kilda came complete,

Which frightened the poor natives there,

Who ran to holes like fox or hare:

And when they reach’d the wretched shore,

They catched some who to them swore,

That none did in that place sojourn,

But who were in St. Kilda born:

Of a Pretender they nothing knew;

But what they heard of a boat’s crew,

How the laird MacLeod had arm’d his men,

To fight against some ill woman,

Who lived somewhere far away;

And this was all they had to say.

So the gen’ral soon return’d again

And saw St. Kilda for his pain.

And here we’ll leave the Prince a while,

Who hunted was from isle to isle,

O’er hills and mountains, wood and glen,

As afterwards I’ll let you ken.

Poor Edward Burke was left alone,

For now companions had he none,

Lodg’d in a cave for weeks three,

Ate Dulce and Lampets from the sea:

In short, he thought he would turn wild,

Seeing no man, woman, or child;

Till an honest Souter and his wife,

Agreed for to sustain his life,

For two long months, he said, and more,

Some meat each night they to him bore,

Their like was not in all North Uist,

For to pity rebels no man durst:

Because ev’n at that very time,

It had been made a mighty crime,

Read from the pulpits by the priests,

That none should pity man or beasts,

Who had along with Charlie been,

Give them no victuals, nor close their een

In sleep, or warm within a door,

Or excommunicate to be therefore,

Besides, the pains of milit’ry law,

Hanged or shot one of the twa.

Of this act I know not what to say,

Since Solomon speaks another way,

And a great, yea wiser King than he,

Bids us to feed our enemie,

And give him water for to drink:

For me, I know not what to think.

But Burke of all at last got free,

When th’ act of grace gave libertie,

And home to Edinburgh came again,

For’s love to Charles got nought but pain,

And yet if Charles return, to morrow,

He vows he’d go tho’ on a barrow.

CHAP. XI.

_Procedure of the King’s men against the suspected. Confusion in

the Army and severity against the Clans._

Now, the royal Duke, at Inverness,

Did the whole North fully possess,

Encamp’d, and sent his parties out

To burn and plunder round about

All the offenders, who for their crime,

Were severely punish’d at this time.

All those who were loyal and true,

Had some acknowledgement as their due.

He number’d first what he had lost,

And what his signal vict’ry cost.

Lord Robert Ker was ’mong the slain,

A brave captain of Barrel’s men;

Of Price’s reg’ment, captain Grossot

Here did fall, it was his lot,

Captain Campbell of Argyleshire men,

Was likewise found among the slain.

Near six hundred, rank and file, lay there,

Two hundred and forty wounded were.

His sole reflection was, in the chase,

The Pretender’s rout he could not trace,

Any farther than that afternoon,

He drank with Lovat when all was done,

When his very tears mingl’d with wine;

But never could be catch’d _sinsyne_.

As some ran east, and some ran west,

To south and north in crouds they past;

Some to Argyleshire, through Kintyre,

And into Ireland flew like fire.

Tullibairn by Loch Lomond came,

Fled from the battle into the flame,

Into the house of Drummiekill,

Who stood on the cross way, to kill

Those who from the battle fly,

Against all such does Moses cry,

As in the sacred Write, we read,

They’re curs’d who’re guilty of such deed:

Yet here was Tullibardine gripped,

When from the roaring guns escaped,

And prisoner to London led;

Yet dy’d there quietly in his bed.

Duke William still camp’d in the north,

All was in stir beyond the Forth,

Ports, pass, and ferries guarded,

Who catch’d a rebel was well rewarded.

Few but preachers, at this day,

Were counted righteous in this way:

For where the minister said the word,

To life and liberty they’re restor’d,

Resign their arms, with Mess John’s line

That they were prest for to combine

To go with Charlie, and his crew,

By force control’d---- ’Tis very true,

Most of the common men were prest,

Drove to the slaughter like a beast:

But one thing of Highlanders I see,

To them they serve they’ll faithful be;

For those who serv’d King George, just here,

’Gainst the rebels proved most severe,

And rebels, who afterwards did list,

Loyaller hearts no man could trust:

And, ev’n the conquering of this field,

Unto the English I will not yield:

Had Scots and Irish run away,

They’d found it hard to gain the day;

Yet after all they ’gan to boast,

’Twas they only who rul’d the roast,

And even where in camp they lay

To upbraid the Scots, and oft did say,

Mocking the mis’ries that befel,

“These Scotsmen are but rebels all,

“For which they all should hanged be,”--

Which rous’d the Scots most veh’mentlie:

And when they did complain thereof,

Were answer’d with a mere _put off_:

This did enrage them still the more,

Vengeance to seek by the _Clay-more_,

Which all into confusion threw:

The Scots into a body drew,

Irish, by blood and love allied,

Did join unto the Scottish side.

His Grace, the Duke, perceiving this,

Into this broil most active was,

Who, as with no party he would stand;

But charg’d them by his high command,

For to be still, and silent be,

Till he’d the dispute rectifie;

Then agents from each side were chose,

Whom he in council did enclose,

Where they made a solemn act,

“That by a thousand on the back,

“Every man should punish’d be,

“Who’d thus upbraid any countrie.”

So this again cemented peace,

Thro’ mediation of his Grace,

Which was indeed a virtuous scheme,

And adds great honour to his name:

For had they once come on to blows,

’T had been the glory of their foes,

And the murd’ring of one another;

But now they’re Britons all together,

And yet the spite ended not here,

As afterwards you’ll come to hear;

But agitated the Parliament,

Though contrary, it with them went,

To put the Scots beating away,

A march which vex’d them ev’ry day:

Because it was a grief to hear it,

And very irksome to their spirit,

The dinging down of _Tamtallan_,

They swore it mean’d some other _dwallion_.

The bonnets, plaids, and spotted coats,

A dress long time worn by the Scots,

These by an act were laid aside,

Thro’ nought, I think, but spite and pride:

For when the Scots they came to need,

They were restor’d again with speed,

Ev’n by an order of the crown;

But _Tamtallan_ was ne’er beat down,

The Scots still kept by their old march,

In spite of all their foes could urge.

But the cause of the Duke’s long stay here,

Was to find out the Chevalier,

As Scotland round by sea was guarded,

If catch’d on land, so high rewarded

The apprehender was to be,

There was no hopes he could get free.

Hesse camps, did at Perth and Stirling stand,

Armed militia through all the land,

And parties searching ev’ry isle:

Being heard of ev’ry other while,

They still kept on a close pursuing,

Hard was the hunt for Charlie’s ruin.

All prisoners, they catch’d, of note,

On ship-board were securely put,

And to England sent, trial to stand,

But deserters judg’d were in Scotland,

Who had as soldiers with Charlie gone,

They hang’d and shot them every one:

For Hawley’s verdict was so quick,

“Go hang the dogs up by the neck,”

Which was no sooner said than done,

No pity he shew’d on woman’s son.

The Duke, by half, not so severe,

Did often the condemn’d set clear,

Made his soldiers say, he was too civil;

But swore, That Hawley wou’d hang the devil.

The Duke did love to burn and plunder,

And sweet revenge upon them thunder,

On house and huts made devastation,

As it had been a foreign nation.

Their whole utensils, rock and reel,

To see in flames he loved well,

With dogs and cats, the rats and mice,

And their old shirts, with nites and lice,

Were all unto the flames consign’d,

To bring them to a better mind,

And never more for to rebel,

A doleful time for _her nain sell_,

For all that _she_ had done or said,

_She_ thought it more than double paid;

Eating kirns, and supping sheese,

And codding of the Lothian pease,

Or taking a bit of beef to eat,

When _she_ could get no other meat;

And when _she_ met a Lalan-rogue,

_But pate a shainshment on her brogue,

The soger has done a ten times mair,

Brunt her house, taen a her geer,

And after that cuts aff her head,

An shot on them that frae her fled_.

For all who did from the soldiers fly,

Were fir’d upon immediately,

By which, many a poor innocent

Was put to death, by them unkent,

Their flying away caus’d the error,

The red-coats were to them a terror.

Now Charles concealed was in Uist,

And there to stay no longer durst,

The Campbells were coming _a ho_, _a ho_,

He durst not bide, and could not go:

Every day he saw them well,

And had none with him but O’Neil.

The day was long and hot the sun,

About the twenty first of June,

Upon a mountain top they lay,

And saw their motions ev’ry way,

From glen to glen, caves and rocks,

As ever hounds did search for fox,

Campbells, and lads with the red coat,

With them guides knew every spot,

And corner of that country side;

So here it dang’rous was to bide.

But in a desart place remote,

They found a lonely dismal hut,

And there to stay they judged best,

Until part of the hurry past.

Such venison as they could take,

Of ev’ry thing a prey they make:

It was not out of cov’tous greed;

But only as they stood in need.

O’Neil alone was out at last,

To hear of what was done or past,

And met a lady whom he knew,

Miss MacDonald good and true,

To her their straits he did reveal,

Who did with tears their sorrows feel,

And vow’d by all was dear within her,

She’d them relieve, if they should skin her:

Then hasten’d O’Neil to him away,

Appointing where to meet next day,

And to the Prince with him did go,

Her servant did the secret know,

One Neil MacKechnie, an honest heart,

Who in ev’ry point did act his part,

There, they their whole plan did frame:

And then to Malton came again

Miss Flora and her man next day,

Going to Clan Ronald’s house were they,

For to perform the enterprize,

And get clothes fit for his disguise.

By a party of militia men,

Both of them prisoners were ta’en,

Miss ask’d who was their officer,

And they in answer told it her:

He prov’d her father-in-law to be,

Preferr’d, for suppos’d loyaltie,

No less than a king’s officer,

She thought she might the better fare,

And there did tarry all that night,

Before of him she got a sight.

Greatly surprized then was he,

His step-daughter prisoner to see,

Call’d her aside to know the matter,

And gave her both a pass and letter,

For herself, her lad, and Betty Burke,

A woman who was to spin and work,

Being a maid for her mother hir’d

So all was done as she requir’d.

Then to Clan Ronald’s house they came,

And let the lady know the same,

Where ev’ry thing in haste was got,

Apron, gown, and a petticoat:

Of printed cotton the gown it was,

Just fitting for a servant lass:

Then to the hut they went away,

To get him drest without delay;

And as they entred into the door

They found their Prince, surpriz’d him sore,

A cooking something for to eat,

A sheep’s pluck on a wooden spit.

This put them all in Brinish tears,

A Prince brought to such low affairs!

But he reply’d, Why weep ye so?

’Tis good for Kings sorrow to know:

And ev’n the great, won’t after rue,

They suffer’d part of what I do.

That night they stayed all in the hut,

Ere ev’ry thing was ready got,

And on the morrow a message came

For lady Clan-Ronald, in haste extreme,

That cap. Ferguson, with Campbell’s men,

Did all night in her house remain.

And to confirm what they had said,

The Captain took up her own bed.

Now Charles by this time was drest,

Like a Dutch frow, I do protest,

His _brogues_, indeed, had leather heels,

And beard, well shaven, all conceals;

But gown and petticoat so short,

Shew’d too much legs, but no help for’t.

He of the lady took his leave,

And left O’Neil behind to grieve,

Who thro’ the world with him would go;

But Flora said it would not do:

Because their pass that number bore,

And one too much was not secure,

Herself, her servant, and Betty Burke,

Who was going to her mother’s work.

The boat’s prepar’d, away they set;

But lady Clan-Ronald was in a strait:

For soon as she had reached home,

Was strict examin’d by Ferguson----

Pray where now, Madam, have you been,

Seeing a sick child, a dying frien’;

My servants might have told the matter;

But the child now is somewhat better.

For this no proof was but her lips,

So he put them both on board of ships,

I mean Clan-Ronald and his dame,

Who did in sep’rate ships remain,

Until to London they were sent,

And nothing of each other _kent_,

Long twelve months there they did remain;

Before they saw their homes again.

Now poor O’Neil was left alone,

And through the hills a wand’ring gone,

By chance he met with Sullivan;

As on the shore they both did stan’

A French cutter came in their sight,

With pendent flying, colours bright,

O’Neil her hail’d, and to she came,

To _fetch_ the Prince was all her aim.

O’Neil desir’d them there to stay,

And he to bring him back wou’d try:

Then off he sets along the shore,

A trav’lling for a day or more,

As the wind had contrary been,

Into some creek they might be seen:

But finding he was gone for Sky,

He thought to touch there going by,

Knowing the secret, the way plann’d,

The very place he was to land.

Night and day he did not spare,

Back to the cutter he did repair;

But ere he came she was away,

Sullivan would no longer stay:

For’s life was preciouser to him,

Than all the princes in Christendom.

He saw some ships afar at sea,

Then pray’d the French with him to flee:

But had they got O’Neil on board,

From Sky the Prince had been secur’d;

Yet here O’Neil was left behind,

Who soon was taken and confin’d,

And sent to Berwick upon Tweed,

Where he remain’d some time indeed,

Thence by cartel was sent to France

Pass’d for an officer from thence.

Sullivan was got home before him,

The cow’rdliest cur in all the _quorum_:

For had he staid three hours in Uist,

They’d carry’d their Prince safe off the coast:

For O’Neil would made them touch at Sky,

The very place which they past by,

Where he knew the Prince was to ’bide:

But Sullivan sav’d his own hide,

And with all speed went home to France,

Left them behind to Providence.

As the Prince, Miss Flora and her man,

Were just about to quit the land,

Four king’s wherries came in their view,

Where armed men were not a few:

Back to the heather they’re forc’d to fly,

And there some time conceal’d to ly,

These wherries soon went out of sight,

And then came on a pleasant night,

Their boat ready they put to sea;

But were not gone past leagues three,

’Till dark and dismal grew the skies,

The wind and waves did dreadful rise,

In open boat, no compass had,

Only two men, whose skill was bad.

Here Charles’ courage was at a stand,

Tempests by sea and storms by land;

For wind and wave did fight again’ him

And nothing seemed to befrien’ him.

Miss Flora she fell fast asleep,

The rest by oars and helm did keep,

And when the day light did appear,

They knew not to what hand to steer,

The wind had vary’d in the night:

At last of Sky they got a sight.

At _Waternish_, the west of Sky,

Upon that point to land did try;

But the red-coats were swarming there,

To ship about they did prepare:

They smartly fir’d to bring ’em too,

But all in vain, it would not do.

Two men of war were hov’ring by,

And there it was no time to stay;

So, off they set before the wind,

And all their foes they left behind.

The alarm up to the village went;

Yet to pursue they were not bent,

Knowing all boats were in a fright;

So about they put when out of sight,

And landed in a little creek,

Under a rock did shelter seek,

The men to rest and be refresh’d,

Who all the night were sorely dash’d:

And then to sea again did go,

Lest some should of their landing know.

They were not half a mile from shore,

Till they see’d pursuers half a score,

All running to the very place,

Which they had left a little space.

Then to the north twelve miles they stood,

At _Tornish_ made their landing good.

Near Alexander MacDonald’s house,

Where went Miss Flora bold and crouse,

As Sir Alexr. was not at home;

But to visit Duke William gone,

Only his factor, who prov’d a friend,

And how to act Miss to him mean’d:

As a military officer was there,

She told him where he should repair,

And meet the Prince in woman’s dress,

To whom he went in full express,

With bread and wine, and other food,

Then took the hills, a private road

To his own house to be conceal’d,

Though afterwards it was reveal’d.

Miss Flora on horseback, and another

Kept the high-way, for to discover

What militia or foes might be;

From all dangers to keep him free,

Miss Flora, her man, and a Highland maid,

Coming on the way, She to Miss said,

“That _Lawland Carlin gangs_ like a man,

“She strides o’er far by half a span,

“I wonder Kingsborough’s not afraid,

“To crack sae wi’ that English jade:

“See how her coats _wamels_ again,

“These English women can fight like men.”

No, said Miss, She’s an Irish woman:

Cries, Lady Marg’ret, Are you coming?

(Not liking what the girl had said)

Go after Kingsborough yon road,

And you’ll be there as soon as we,

Thus she kept him from suspicion free;

And to the house they came at last

Before elev’n o’clock was past.

But Kingsb’ro’s wife was gone to bed,

Thinking that no such stranger wad,

At such a time come to her door:

For th’ two young ladies were oft before.

She sent them word to take the key,

With all in the house for to make free;

But Kingsbro’ said that would not do,

Herself must rise, and quickly too.

The child ran back and told her plain,

Such a lang wife she ne’er saw nane,

As that was walking through the ha’,

Her like was never there awa’,

Therefore she’d go no more for fear,

Then up she rose and did appear:

And the one who walked through the hall,

Did her salute and kiss with all,

Whereat she started and was afraid,

Being so prick’d with a lady’s beard:

Then to her husband said, whisp’ring ways,

Is not this a gentleman in disguise?

His pricking beard does me convince,

Pray ask him, What’s come of the Prince?

The Prince, my dear, Why this is he----

Oh, said she, then we’ll hanged be----

A well, said he, We’ll die but once,

Get supper for him, cakes and scones,

Butter and cheese, we have eggs enow:

What! That for a Prince will never do.

Yes, for rarities be nowise griev’d;

You little know how he has liv’d:

And with ceremony be not affected,

Lest by your servants he be suspected,

He supp’d that night and went to sleep

As a stranger lady, all snug was kept.

On the morrow he rose and was drest,

And for their kindness thanks exprest:

Miss Flora and the other Miss,

They had him in his robes to dress,

The gown, the _mutch_, and petticoat,

Such stuff to wear he loved not;

But because to them in such he came,

He should go off wearing the same,

Lest by enquiry they might provoke

What they were, being stranger folk.

Then Kingsborough’s wife did them desire,

To ask a _pickle_ of his hair.

And they in _Galick_ did debate,

Who should it ask, they were so blate:

He understood, the reason _speir’d_

Of their debate, desir’d to hear’t,

This freely granted as soon as told,

And to their sheers his head did hold,

The lock was parted ’mongst the three,

Of their dear Prince mindful to be,

An ancient _freit_, a Highland _charm_,

Look on that hair her heart will _warm_.

Kingsb’rough a bundle of men’ clothes took

Far from his house, to a wood _nuik_,

Remounted him in Highland dress,

There he much kindness did express----

They wept, they kiss’d, and off he goes,

While drops of blood fell from his nose.

Their hearts were great, you may weel _ken_,

They parted ne’er to meet again.

A guide sent wi’m the mountain way,

Had a boat ready, the freight did pay,

At _Portree_, or the king’s port,

Miss Flora’s there ere he came to’t.

And here they parted at Portree,

Where thanking her most heartilie,

Miss Flora did no longer wait;

But went to ’r mother’s house at _Slate_.

Now Kingsborough did Raaza send

To meet the Prince, and be his friend,

With sev’ral of his trusties there,

Who in his expeditions were,

Both at Culloden and Falkirk.

To _Portree_ came when it was dark,

Both John MacKenzie and Donald Frier,

Who had been with him far and near,

They set off in a little boat,

And safely into _Glam_ all got:

In a mean hut their dwelling made,

For kid and lamb young Raaza _gade_:

There was no bedding to be found,

They’re oblig’d to lie upon the ground:

His pillow was a _wisp_ of Ling:

Poor state for a pretended king!

This was in July the first day,

And here _incog._ some time they lay.

Now Ferguson got the sure tract

From the two men, as they went back,

Who did him and Miss Flora bring

Out of Uist, and everything,

His coat, his _mutch_, his very gown,

From whence they came, and whither boun’,

How Malton’s daughter and Kingsborough too,

Went all together out of their view.

Then Ferg’son with a party came

To Kingsb’ro’s house, and did deman’,

Which way the young Pretender went?

Where he and Miss Flora were sent?

Whether they lay in one bed together?

What clothes he came in, or went thither?

Few answers to him Kingsb’rough made:

What! said his wife, “Miss Flora’s maid,

“They staid all night and went away,

“Whether man or woman was I to try?”

Then, said he, Show where they were laid,

Where lay the Miss? where lay the maid?

Now then, quoth he, I have you fast:

Because the maid’s bed is the best.

Then Kingsborough away was led

To Fort-Augustus, hard bestead,

Plunder’d of’s watch, buckles and shoes,

And all the cash was in his trews,

In a dungeon deep, iron’d he lay,

Thence to Ed’nburgh castle sent away,

And there confin’d was kept one year,

Till by the Act of Grace set clear.

For love of Charlie he got this,

And poor Miss Flora no better was:

For she was scarce ten days at home,

Until she got a card to come

And speak unto an officer,

Who had no great good will to her:

This for a night she did delay,

And on the morrow, by the way,

A party meets, in search of her,

By whom she was made prisoner,

And carry’d instantly away,

On board a ship that very day,

The Furnace, captain Ferguson,

Who did show lenity to none.

But good for her, as fortunes were,

That gen’ral Campbell, as judge sat there:

Though she before made ’quivocation,

She told to him the true relation,

And the general did use her well,

Since she the truth did not conceal:

For of the deed she thought no shame,

To any in need she’d do the same.

Said she, “I’ve no cause to betray,

“Or yet to wish his life away,

“Wherefore then should I do him wrong?

“To you soldiers does such belong.

“If that a price be on his head?

“’Tis for those by blood who have their bread.”

The gen’ral then had nought to say;

But gave her leave, on the next day,

Of her friends to go and take farewel;

Her mother heart-sore grief did feel:

An officer and forty men

Did guard her there, and back again.

Then she unto the _Nore_ was sent,

Five months on sea, where no friend _kent_,

At last to London was convey’d,

There with a messenger to bide,

Till the month of July Forty Seven,

That she was home to Edinburgh driv’n,

When by the Act of Grace reliev’d,

She’s now in Sky, yet unmischiev’d.

Now Charles at Glam, in Raaza lay,

Long, long he thought to get away,

Hard was his living, poor his hut,

Upon all heights they watches put.

A stranger to this island came

To sell tobacco, perhaps a sham;

For after all his roll was sold,

He daily through the island stroll’d,

And to the hut one day drew nigh;

Then Raaza swore he was a spy,

And cockt his pistol, him to shoot,

The Prince cry’d, No, You shall not do’t.

That poor man may innocent be,

Without a fault he shall not die.

The poor man then went stepping by,

And did not ev’n look to their _stye_.

Now, said the Prince, what would ye said,

If innocent blood had here been shed?

Too much, indeed, on my account:

At this some seem’d to take affront;

Yet as a joke he past it by,

And then propos’d to go for Sky,

In the small boat which brought them there,

So for the voy’ge they did prepare.

Toward ev’ning they put to sea,

And then the wind rose wond’rous high,

The boatmen begg’d to put about;

But he was obst’nate on his rout,

And told them life was but a chance,

They were in hands of Providence:

He leav’d the water with a scoop,

And bid them in their Maker hope,

The boat is making a good way,

No man will die but him that’s _fey_,

We’ve all in dangers been ere now:

At Nicolson’s rock they brought her to,

Near _Scorebreck_ in _Trotternish_,

Their lodging in a byre it was,

All wet and weary as they were,

Lay on the ground, sleep seiz’d him there,

In which he sigh’d, and starting said,

“Poor people, poor people, hard bestead!”

He then awak’d, and thus did say,

“Malcom, dear captain, is it yet day?

“You’ve watch’d too long, now take a sleep,

“And I myself will centry keep.”

“No, said MacLeod, Sir, if you please,

“I know this ground best, take your ease,

“There’s not a house near by two mile,

“Our friends are few into this isle,

“The red coats are not far from us,

“To slip my charge is dangerous.”

So here they did remain next day,

Before they could venture away,

Having no bread, or ought to eat,

(For a King’s Court, a poor mean treat!)

Except water, sprung from the ground,

No meat or drink could there be found.

Two bottles of brandy was all their store,

On earth they had no substance more,

Nor in that place durst one look out

For en’mies planted round about.

When night came on, they parted all,

Captain MacLeod we shall him call,

Did undertake to be his guide,

One bottle of brandy by his side,

Over muir and mountain, wood and glen,

Between hope and despair they ran.

The Prince as servant did appear;

Because he did the baggage bear,

A hairy wallet on his back,

Just like a chapman and his pack,

Wanting the _breiks_, with legs all bare,

Into his hand his _brogues_ did bear,

A napkin ty’d around his head,

In this posture forward they _gade_,

Long thirty miles ere they took rest,

Water and brandy was all their feast:

Because they had no other cheer,

For house or hut they went not near,

Till at _Ellighill_, the place call’d Ord,

Whereof MacKinnon is the lord,

Their brandy-bottle now was done,

And here they hid it under groun’:

Yet were they in a strait again,

Meeting two of MacKinnon’s men,

Who had on the expedition been,

And oft before the Prince had seen,

Who knew him well, though in disguise,

Fell down and bursted out in cries.

Then Malcom, Hush, to them did call,

Or else they would discover all,

To which they swore, by all that’s Good,

They’d rather spend their dearest blood,

So faithfully they did conceal it,

And did not in the least reveal it.

Now were they come unto the place,

Where Malcom’s sister married was

To John MacKinnon, who’d captain been

Along with Charles in armour _keen_;

But had got clear by Proclamation,

And for to skulk had no occasion.

He orders the Prince, now Lewis Cawe,

For to ly down some space awa’,

While he into his sister’s went,

Their doleful case to represent.

She him embrac’d, and wept amain,

As in the war she thought him slain:

He said, dear sister, here I’m come

Myself to hide, if you have room,

With one, my servant, Lewis Cawe,

In the same case, hard is our fa’:

He’s a surgeon’s son, who came from Crief

Shelter to seek and some relief.

Then poor sick Lewis was called in,

With head bound up, he look’d right grim,

And by his master there he did stand,

With head uncover’d, bonnet in hand:

But the Captain urg’d him to sit down,

And put his bonnet on his crown,

Since there are no strangers here,

Come, eat with me, Lewis, my dear.

And when their dinner over was,

The Captain says, Our feet we’ll wash:

The servant-maid brought water then,

And wash’d his feet with tender han’.

Said he, my lad’s not well, I know,

You’ll wash his feet before you go;

But she reply’d, I _ken_ some better,

’Tis fair enough if I bring water,

He’s but your lad, as you me tell,

_Dat loon may wash her feet hersel_;

Being forc’d to do’t, through mere constraint,

To work in a rude way she went,

Rubbed his toes, made the water rise

At every plash, betwixt his thighs;

On this he to the Captain said,

She rubs too hard this saucy maid,

I had far better do’t mysell,

_In trout_, quo’ she, _an sae ye sall_,

Then both of them to sleep were put,

The goodwife went to a hill-top

For to keep watch, lest from the sea

Incursions should come suddenlie.

As King’s ships hover’d all about,

And parties through the land did scout.

Just as they wak’d the husband came,

When Malcom heard, he to him ran,

And did salute him in the field,

Which meeting did great pleasure yield;

Because that word was to them brought,

He kill’d was at Culloden fight.

And after they had talk’d a while,

Think you yon ships will touch this isle?

Says John, I know not but they might;

Because they’re never out of sight.

What if our Prince a pris’ner be,

In one of those ships which we see?

God forbid, then John reply’d;

But of his ’scape I’m much afraid:

For our nation’s guarded round about,

And through the land there’s many a scout.

But do you think, if he were here,

He would be safe, in such a stir?

Ay, safe be sure, whate’er they do,

I wish we had him here just now.

Then said he, John, he’s in your house;

But to salute him, be cautious:

Because your wife, nor none else knows,

By the name of Lewis Cawe he goes,

My servant, a surgeon’s son in Crief,

Like us, brought to trouble and grief:

Therefore behave when in you go,

That none within the house may know.

So home they came, and in he goes,

Then courteously poor Lewis rose,

Bare-headed stood, bonnet in hand,

But John could not himself command,

Burst out in tears, and on him flew,

Oh-hon, Oh-hon, What’s this on you!

From splendor into deep distress!

He cry’d, and could no more express.

Wife and servants stood in amaze,

And did upon poor Lewis gaze:

Then Malcom in a passion flew,

And swore that he had fools enow,

Hurry’d them to another place,

And told his sister all the case,

That he and poor Lewis was in,

Charged her forthwith for to run,

And bind her servants to secresie,

Or else they soon would ruin’d be.

When his sister knew what guest he was,

Her kindness she did the more express,

And said, Upon her very knees

She’d travel for to give him ease.

They then to consultation went,

To get him to the Continent:

Because the isles were dangerous,

Soldiers searching every bush.

John then unto the laird he went,

To try how his affection bent,

By long-wind stories laments his case,

In being hunted from place to place.

Oh, said the laird, were he now here,

I’d lay my life to get him clear,

And set him safe on the main land.

Then John he told him, clean off hand,

Where he was, and in what place,

And to his conscience left his case.

Go tell him, I’ll be with him soon,

To see what quickly shall be done.

John went home, the laird soon came,

With loyal affections, as chief o’s Clan,

And told, that for him he did provide

A good stout boat, pilot and guide,

That he himself design’d to go

To the main land with him also,

A thousand blessings on him prays,

And wish’d him long and happy days.

Then Malcom said, he would return,

Which caus’d the Prince in tears to mourn:

Captain, he said, will you leave me now?

On the main land, what shall I do?

Then said the laird, leave that to me,

On the main land I’ll you supplie.

Sir, said Malcom, by now I’m mist

By friends, by foes, and this I trust

For to be ta’en, when I return,

Then I’ll tell a tale of my sojourn,

Of all my travels how I was here,

Seeing my friends and sister dear;

But if they chance us to pursue,

They’ll hear of me along with you:

For answer then, what could I say?

What man ye was, or gone what way?

Which accordingly it came to pass:

For he twelve months confined was,

And saw great London for the same,

There try’d and came with Flora _hame_.

So to the boat they all did go,

Which lay upon the shore below:

And as to it they did draw near,

Two men of war there did appear,

Came cruising in before the wind,

Hard on the shore, as they design’d,

Which caused them to sit down a space,

And smoak a pipe in a hollow place.

A silver stock-buckle to Malcom he _geid_,

And ten guineas too in his _loof_ he laid,

Which he did often times refuse;

But begg’d some trifle that he did use;

Then, said he, Captain, Your pay’s too cheap,

Besides, you will have my cutty pipe,

And when you blow’t, you’ll think on me,

As I have got another you see:

And take these lines to Murdoch MacLeod,

To pay respect to him I’m proud.

The men of war having laid about,

Toward the boat they took the rout,

The writing in the letter this,

As writ _verbatim_, here it is,

SIR,

_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.

CHAP. XII.

_Sundry dangers and hardships on the main shore. Meets with six

men who relieve him. Almost starved. Goes to Lochaber. Meets with

Lochiel. Gets off from Moidart._