MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 13.

The room where we lay was a celebrated one. Dr. Johnson's bed was the

very bed in which the grandson of the unfortunate King James the

Second[543] lay, on one of the nights after the failure of his rash

attempt in 1745-6, while he was eluding the pursuit of the emissaries of

government, which had offered thirty thousand pounds as a reward for

apprehending him. To see Dr. Samuel Johnson lying in that bed, in the

isle of Sky, in the house of Miss Flora Macdonald, struck me with such a

group of ideas as it is not easy for words to describe, as they passed

through the mind. He smiled, and said, 'I have had no ambitious thoughts

in it[544].' The room was decorated with a great variety of maps and

prints. Among others, was Hogarth's print of Wilkes grinning, with a cap

of liberty on a pole by him. That too was a curious circumstance in the

scene this morning; such a contrast was Wilkes to the above groupe. It

reminded me of Sir William Chambers's _Account of Oriental

Gardening_[545], in which we are told all odd, strange, ugly, and even

terrible objects, are introduced for the sake of variety; a wild

extravagance of taste which is so well ridiculed in the celebrated

Epistle to him[546]. The following lines of that poem immediately

occurred to me;

'Here too, O king of vengeance! in thy fane,

Tremendous Wilkes shall rattle his gold chain[547].'

Upon the table in our room I found in the morning a slip of paper, on

which Dr. Johnson had written with his pencil these words,

'Quantum cedat virtutibus aurum[548].'

What he meant by writing them I could not tell[549]. He had caught cold

a day or two ago, and the rain yesterday having made it worse, he was

become very deaf. At breakfast he said, he would have given a good deal

rather than not have lain in that bed. I owned he was the lucky man; and

observed, that without doubt it had been contrived between Mrs.

Macdonald and him. She seemed to acquiesce; adding, 'You know young

_bucks_ are always favourites of the ladies.' He spoke of Prince Charles

being here, and asked Mrs. Macdonald, '_Who_ was with him? We were told,

madam, in England, there was one Miss Flora Macdonald with him.' She

said, 'they were very right;' and perceiving Dr. Johnson's curiosity,

though he had delicacy enough not to question her, very obligingly

entertained him with a recital of the particulars which she herself knew

of that escape, which does so much honour to the humanity, fidelity, and

generosity of the Highlanders. Dr. Johnson listened to her with placid

attention, and said, 'All this should be written down.'

From what she told us, and from what I was told by others personally

concerned, and from a paper of information which Rasay was so good as to

send me, at my desire, I have compiled the following abstract, which, as

it contains some curious anecdotes, will, I imagine, not be

uninteresting to my readers, and even, perhaps, be of some use to future

historians.

* * * * *

Prince Charles Edward, after the battle of Culloden, was conveyed to

what is called the _Long Island_, where he lay for some time concealed.

But intelligence having been obtained where he was, and a number of

troops having come in quest of him, it became absolutely necessary for

him to quit that country without delay. Miss Flora Macdonald, then a

young lady, animated by what she thought the sacred principle of

loyalty, offered, with the magnanimity of a Heroine, to accompany him in

an open boat to Sky, though the coast they were to quit was guarded by

ships. He dressed himself in women's clothes, and passed as her supposed

maid, by the name of Betty Bourke, an Irish girl. They got off

undiscovered, though several shots were fired to bring them to, and

landed at Mugstot, the seat of Sir Alexander Macdonald. Sir Alexander

was then at Fort Augustus, with the Duke of Cumberland; but his lady was

at home. Prince Charles took his post upon a hill near the house. Flora

Macdonald waited on lady Margaret[550], and acquainted her of the

enterprise in which she was engaged. Her ladyship, whose active

benevolence was ever seconded by superior talents, shewed a perfect

presence of mind, and readiness of invention, and at once settled that

Prince Charles should be conducted to old Rasay, who was himself

concealed with some select friends. The plan was instantly communicated

to Kingsburgh, who was dispatched to the hill to inform the Wanderer,

and carry him refreshments. When Kingsburgh approached, he started up,

and advanced, holding a large knotted stick, and in appearance ready to

knock him down, till he said, 'I am Macdonald of Kingsburgh, come to

serve your highness.' The Wanderer answered, 'It is well,' and was

satisfied with the plan.

Flora Macdonald dined with Lady Margaret, at whose table there sat an

officer of the army, stationed here with a party of soldiers, to watch

for Prince Charles in case of his flying to the isle of Sky. She

afterwards often laughed in good-humour with this gentleman, on her

having so well deceived him. After dinner, Flora Macdonald on

horseback, and her supposed maid, and Kingsburgh, with a servant

carrying some linen, all on foot, proceeded towards that gentleman's

house. Upon the road was a small rivulet which they were obliged to

cross. The Wanderer, forgetting his assumed sex, that his clothes might

not be wet, held them up a great deal too high. Kingsburgh mentioned

this to him, observing, it might make a discovery. He said, he would be

more careful for the future. He was as good as his word; for the next

brook they crossed, he did not hold up his clothes at all, but let them

float upon the water. He was very awkward in his female dress. His size

was so large, and his strides so great, that some women whom they met

reported that they had seen a very big woman, who looked like a man in

woman's clothes, and that perhaps it was (as they expressed themselves)

the _Prince_, after whom so much search was making.

At Kingsburgh he met with a most cordial reception; seemed gay at

supper, and after it indulged himself in a cheerful glass with his

worthy host. As he had not had his clothes off for a long time, the

comfort of a good bed was highly relished by him, and he slept soundly

till next day at one o'clock.

The mistress of Corrichatachin told me, that in the forenoon she went

into her father's room, who was also in bed, and suggested to him her

apprehensions that a party of the military might come up, and that his

guest and he had better not remain here too long. Her father said, 'Let

the poor man repose himself after his fatigues; and as for me, I care

not, though they take off this old grey head ten or eleven years sooner

than I should die in the course of nature.' He then wrapped himself in

the bed-clothes, and again fell fast asleep.

On the afternoon of that day, the Wanderer, still in the same dress, set

out for Portree, with Flora Macdonald and a man servant. His shoes being

very bad, Kingsburgh provided him with a new pair, and taking up the old

ones, said, 'I will faithfully keep them till you are safely settled at

St. James's. I will then introduce myself by shaking them at you, to put

you in mind of your night's entertainment and protection under my roof.'

He smiled, and said, 'Be as good as your word!' Kingsburgh kept the

shoes as long as he lived. After his death, a zealous Jacobite gentleman

gave twenty guineas for them. Old Mrs. Macdonald, after her guest had

left the house, took the sheets in which he had lain, folded them

carefully, and charged her daughter that they should be kept unwashed,

and that, when she died, her body should be wrapped in them as a winding

sheet. Her will was religiously observed.

Upon the road to Portree, Prince Charles changed his dress, and put on

man's clothes again; a tartan short coat and waistcoat, with philibeg

and short hose, a plaid, and a wig and bonnet.

Mr. Donald M'Donald, called Donald Roy, had been sent express to the

present Rasay, then the young laird, who was at that time at his

sister's house, about three miles from Portree, attending his brother,

Dr. Macleod, who was recovering of a wound he had received at the battle

of Culloden. Mr. M'Donald communicated to young Rasay the plan of

conveying the Wanderer to where old Rasay was; but was told that old

Rasay had fled to Knoidart, a part of Glengary's estate. There was then

a dilemma what should be done. Donald Roy proposed that he should

conduct the Wanderer to the main land; but young Rasay thought it too

dangerous at that time, and said it would be better to conceal him in

the island of Rasay, till old Rasay could be informed where he was, and

give his advice what was best. But the difficulty was, how to get him to

Rasay. They could not trust a Portree crew, and all the Rasay boats had

been destroyed, or carried off by the military, except two belonging to

Malcolm M'Leod, which he had concealed somewhere.

Dr. Macleod being informed of this difficulty, said he would risk his

life once more for Prince Charles; and it having occurred, that there

was a little boat upon a fresh-water lake in the neighbourhood, young

Rasay and Dr. Macleod, with the help of some women, brought it to the

sea, by extraordinary exertion, across a Highland mile of land, one half

of which was bog, and the other a steep precipice.

These gallant brothers, with the assistance of one little boy, rowed the

small boat to Rasay, where they were to endeavour to find Captain

M'Leod, as Malcolm was then called, and get one of his good boats, with

which they might return to Portree, and receive the Wanderer; or, in

case of not finding him, they were to make the small boat serve, though

the danger was considerable.

Fortunately, on their first landing, they found their cousin Malcolm,

who, with the utmost alacrity, got ready one of his boats, with two

strong men, John M'Kenzie, and Donald M'Friar. Malcolm, being the oldest

man, and most cautious, said, that as young Rasay had not hitherto

appeared in the unfortunate business, he ought not to run any risk; but

that Dr. Macleod and himself, who were already publickly engaged, should

go on this expedition. Young Rasay answered, with an oath, that he would

go, at the risk of his life and fortune. 'In GOD'S name then (said

Malcolm) let us proceed.' The two boatmen, however, now stopped short,

till they should be informed of their destination; and M'Kenzie declared

he would not move an oar till he knew where they were going. Upon which

they were both sworn to secrecy; and the business being imparted to

them, they were eager to put off to sea without loss of time. The boat

soon landed about half a mile from the inn at Portree.

All this was negotiated before the Wanderer got forward to Portree.

Malcolm M'Leod and M'Friar were dispatched to look for him. In a short

time he appeared, and went into the publick house. Here Donald Roy, whom

he had seen at Mugstot, received him, and informed him of what had been

concerted. He wanted silver for a guinea, but the landlord had only

thirteen shillings. He was going to accept of this for his guinea; but

Donald Roy very judiciously observed, that it would discover him to be

some great man; so he desisted. He slipped out of the house, leaving his

fair protectress, whom he never again saw; and Malcolm Macleod was

presented to him by Donald Roy, as a captain in his army. Young Rasay

and Dr. Macleod had waited, in impatient anxiety, in the boat. When he

came, their names were announced to him. He would not permit the usual

ceremonies of respect, but saluted them as his equals.

Donald Roy staid in Sky, to be in readiness to get intelligence, and

give an alarm in case the troops should discover the retreat to Rasay;

and Prince Charles was then conveyed in a boat to that island in the

night. He slept a little upon the passage, and they landed about

day-break. There was some difficulty in accommodating him with a

lodging, as almost all the houses in the island had been burnt by the

soldiery. They repaired to a little hut, which some shepherds had lately

built, and having prepared it as well as they could, and made a bed of

heath for the stranger, they kindled a fire, and partook of some

provisions which had been sent with him from Kingsburgh. It was

observed, that he would not taste wheat-bread, or brandy, while

oat-bread and whisky lasted; 'for these, said he, are my own country

bread and drink.'--This was very engaging to the Highlanders.

Young Rasay being the only person of the company that durst appear with

safety, he went in quest of something fresh for them to eat: but though

he was amidst his own cows, sheep, and goats, he could not venture to

take any of them for fear of a discovery, but was obliged to supply

himself by stealth. He therefore caught a kid, and brought it to the hut

in his plaid, and it was killed and drest, and furnished them a meal

which they relished much. The distressed Wanderer, whose health was now

a good deal impaired by hunger, fatigue, and watching, slept a long

time, but seemed to be frequently disturbed. Malcolm told me he would

start from broken slumbers, and speak to himself in different languages,

French, Italian, and English. I must however acknowledge, that it is

highly probable that my worthy friend Malcolm did not know precisely the

difference between French and Italian. One of his expressions in English

was, 'O GOD! poor Scotland!'

While they were in the hut, M'Kenzie and M'Friar, the two boatmen, were

placed as sentinels upon different eminences; and one day an incident

happened, which must not be omitted. There was a man wandering about the

island, selling tobacco. Nobody knew him, and he was suspected to be a

spy. M'Kenzie came running to the hut, and told that this suspected

person was approaching. Upon which the three gentlemen, young Rasay, Dr.

Macleod, and Malcolm, held a council of war upon him, and were

unanimously of opinion that he should instantly be put to death. Prince

Charles, at once assuming a grave and even severe countenance, said,

'God forbid that we should take away a man's life, who may be innocent,

while we can preserve our own.' The gentlemen however persisted in their

resolution, while he as strenuously continued to take the merciful side.

John M'Kenzie, who sat watching at the door of the hut, and overheard

the debate, said in Erse, 'Well, well; he must be shot. You are the

king, but we are the parliament, and will do what we choose.' Prince

Charles, seeing the gentlemen smile, asked what the man had said, and

being told it in English, he observed that he was a clever fellow, and,

notwithstanding the perilous situation in which he was, laughed loud and

heartily. Luckily the unknown person did not perceive that there were

people in the hut, at least did not come to it, but walked on past it,

unknowing of his risk. It was afterwards found out that he was one of

the Highland army, who was himself in danger. Had he come to them, they

were resolved to dispatch him; for, as Malcolm said to me, 'We could not

keep him with us, and we durst not let him go. In such a situation, I

would have shot my brother, if I had not been sure of him.' John

M'Kenzie was at Rasay's house when we were there[551]. About eighteen

years before, he hurt one of his legs when dancing, and being obliged to

have it cut off, he now was going about with a wooden leg. The story of

his being a _member of parliament_ is not yet forgotten. I took him out

a little way from the house, gave him a shilling to drink Rasay's

health, and led him into a detail of the particulars which I have just

related. With less foundation, some writers have traced the idea of a

parliament, and of the British constitution, in rude and early times. I

was curious to know if he had really heard, or understood, any thing of

that subject, which, had he been a greater man, would probably have been

eagerly maintained. 'Why, John, (said I,) did you think the king should

be controuled by a parliament?' He answered, 'I thought, Sir, there were

many voices against one.'

The conversation then turning on the times, the Wanderer said, that, to

be sure, the life he had led of late was a very hard one; but he would

rather live in the way he now did, for ten years, than fall into the

hands of his enemies. The gentlemen asked him, what he thought his

enemies would do with him, should he have the misfortune to fall into

their hands. He said, he did not believe they would dare to take his

life publickly, but he dreaded being privately destroyed by poison or

assassination. He was very particular in his inquiries about the wound

which Dr. Macleod had received at the battle of Culloden, from a ball

which entered at one shoulder, and went cross to the other. The doctor

happened still to have on the coat which he wore on that occasion. He

mentioned, that he himself had his horse shot under him at Culloden;

that the ball hit the horse about two inches from his knee, and made him

so unruly that he was obliged to change him for another. He threw out

some reflections on the conduct of the disastrous affair at Culloden,

saying, however, that perhaps it was rash in him to do so. I am now

convinced that his suspicions were groundless; for I have had a good

deal of conversation upon the subject with my very worthy and ingenious

friend, Mr. Andrew Lumisden, who was under secretary to Prince Charles,

and afterwards principal secretary to his father at Rome, who, he

assured me, was perfectly satisfied both of the abilities and honour of

the generals who commanded the Highland army on that occasion. Mr.

Lumisden has written an account of the three battles in 1745-6, at once

accurate and classical[552]. Talking of the different Highland corps,

the gentlemen who were present wished to have his opinion which were the

best soldiers. He said, he did not like comparisons among those corps:

they were all best.

He told his conductors, he did not think it advisable to remain long in

any one place; and that he expected a French ship to come for him to

Lochbroom, among the Mackenzies. It then was proposed to carry him in

one of Malcolm's boats to Lochbroom, though the distance was fifteen

leagues coastwise. But he thought this would be too dangerous, and

desired that, at any rate, they might first endeavour to obtain

intelligence. Upon which young Rasay wrote to his friend, Mr. M'Kenzie

of Applecross, but received an answer, that there was no appearance of

any French ship. It was therefore resolved that they should return to

Sky, which they did, and landed in Strath, where they reposed in a

cow-house belonging to Mr. Niccolson of Scorbreck. The sea was very

rough, and the boat took in a good deal of water. The Wanderer asked if

there was danger, as he was not used to such a vessel. Upon being told

there was not, he sung an Erse song with much vivacity. He had by this

time acquired a good deal of the Erse language.

Young Rasay was now dispatched to where Donald Roy was, that they might

get all the intelligence they could; and the Wanderer, with much

earnestness, charged Dr. Macleod to have a boat ready, at a certain

place about seven miles off, as he said he intended it should carry him

upon a matter of great consequence; and gave the doctor a case,

containing a silver spoon, knife, and fork, saying, 'keep you that till

I see you,' which the doctor understood to be two days from that time.

But all these orders were only blinds; for he had another plan in his

head, but wisely thought it safest to trust his secrets to no more

persons than was absolutely necessary. Having then desired Malcolm to

walk with him a little way from the house, he soon opened his mind,

saying, 'I deliver myself to you. Conduct me to the Laird of M'Kinnon's

country.' Malcolm objected that it was very dangerous, as so many

parties of soldiers were in motion. He answered, 'There is nothing now

to be done without danger.' He then said, that Malcolm must be the

master, and he the servant; so he took the bag, in which his linen was

put up, and carried it on his shoulder; and observing that his

waistcoat, which was of scarlet tartan, with a gold twist button, was

finer than Malcolm's, which was of a plain ordinary tartan, he put on

Malcolm's waistcoat, and gave him his; remarking at the same time, that

it did not look well that the servant should be better dressed than

the master.

Malcolm, though an excellent walker, found himself excelled by Prince

Charles, who told him, he should not much mind the parties that were

looking for him, were he once but a musket shot from them; but that he

was somewhat afraid of the Highlanders who were against him. He was well

used to walking in Italy, in pursuit of game; and he was even now so

keen a sportsman, that, having observed some partridges, he was going

to take a shot: but Malcolm cautioned him against it, observing that the

firing might be heard by the tenders[553] who were hovering upon

the coast.

As they proceeded through the mountains, taking many a circuit to avoid

any houses, Malcolm, to try his resolution, asked him what they should

do, should they fall in with a party of soldiers: he answered, 'Fight,

to be sure!' Having asked Malcolm if he should be known in his present

dress, and Malcolm having replied he would, he said, 'Then I'll blacken

my face with powder.' 'That, said Malcolm, would discover you at once.'

'Then, said he, I must be put in the greatest dishabille possible.' So

he pulled off his wig, tied a handkerchief round his head, and put his

night-cap over it, tore the ruffles from his shirt, took the buckles out

of his shoes, and made Malcolm fasten them with strings; but still

Malcolm thought he would be known. 'I have so odd a face, (said he) that

no man ever saw me but he would know me again[554].'

He seemed unwilling to give credit to the horrid narrative of men being

massacred in cold blood, after victory had declared for the army

commanded by the Duke of Cumberland. He could not allow himself to think

that a general could be so barbarous[555]. When they came within two

miles of M'Kinnon's house, Malcolm asked if he chose to see the laird.

'No, (said he) by no means. I know M'Kinnon to be as good and as honest

a man as any in the world, but he is not fit for my purpose at present.

You must conduct me to some other house; but let it be a gentleman's

house.' Malcolm then determined that they should go to the house of his

brother-in-law, Mr. John M'Kinnon, and from thence be conveyed to the

main land of Scotland, and claim the assistance of Macdonald of

Scothouse. The Wanderer at first objected to this, because Scothouse was

cousin to a person of whom he had suspicions. But he acquiesced in

Malcolm's opinion.

When they were near Mr. John M'Kinnon's house, they met a man of the

name of Ross, who had been a private soldier in the Highland army. He

fixed his eyes steadily on the Wanderer in his disguise, and having at

once recognized him, he clapped his hands, and exclaimed, 'Alas! is this

the case?' Finding that there was now a discovery, Malcolm asked 'What's

to be done?' 'Swear him to secrecy,' answered Prince Charles. Upon which

Malcolm drew his dirk, and on the naked blade, made him take a solemn

oath, that he would say nothing of his having seen the Wanderer, till

his escape should be made publick.

Malcolm's sister, whose house they reached pretty early in the morning,

asked him who the person was that was along with him. He said it was one

Lewis Caw, from Crieff, who being a fugitive like himself, for the same

reason, he had engaged him as his servant, but that he had fallen sick.

'Poor man! (said she) I pity him. At the same time my heart warms to a

man of his appearance.' Her husband was gone a little way from home; but

was expected every minute to return. She set down to her brother a

plentiful Highland breakfast. Prince Charles acted the servant very

well, sitting at a respectful distance, with his bonnet off. Malcolm

then said to him, 'Mr. Caw, you have as much need of this as I have;

there is enough for us both: you had better draw nearer and share with

me.' Upon which he rose, made a profound bow, sat down at table with his

supposed master, and eat very heartily. After this there came in an old

woman, who, after the mode of ancient hospitality, brought warm water,

and washed Malcolm's feet. He desired her to wash the feet of the poor

man who attended him. She at first seemed averse to this, from pride, as

thinking him beneath her, and in the periphrastick language of the

Highlanders and the Irish, said warmly, 'Though I washed your father's

son's feet, why should I wash his father's son's feet?' She was however

persuaded to do it.

They then went to bed, and slept for some time; and when Malcolm awaked,

he was told that Mr. John M'Kinnon, his brother-in-law, was in sight. He

sprang out to talk to him before he should see Prince Charles. After

saluting him, Malcolm, pointing to the sea, said, 'What, John, if the

prince should be prisoner on board one of those tenders?' 'GOD forbid!'

replied John. 'What if we had him here?' said Malcolm. 'I wish we had,'

answered John; 'we should take care of him.' 'Well, John,' said Malcolm,

'he is in your house.' John, in a transport of joy, wanted to run

directly in, and pay his obeisance; but Malcolm stopped him, saying,

'Now is your time to behave well, and do nothing that can discover him.'

John composed himself, and having sent away all his servants upon

different errands, he was introduced into the presence of his guest, and

was then desired to go and get ready a boat lying near his house, which,

though but a small leaky one, they resolved to take, rather than go to

the Laird of M'Kinnon. John M'Kinnon, however, thought otherwise; and

upon his return told them, that his Chief and lady M'Kinnon were coming

in the laird's boat. Prince Charles said to his trusty Malcolm, 'I am

sorry for this, but must make the best of it.' M'Kinnon then walked up

from the shore, and did homage to the Wanderer. His lady waited in a

cave, to which they all repaired, and were entertained with cold meat

and wine. Mr. Malcolm M'Leod being now superseded by the Laird of

M'Kinnon, desired leave to return, which was granted him, and Prince

Charles wrote a short note, which he subscribed _James Thompson_,

informing his friends that he had got away from Sky, and thanking them

for their kindness; and he desired this might be speedily conveyed to

young Rasay and Dr. Macleod, that they might not wait longer in

expectation of seeing him again. He bade a cordial adieu to Malcolm, and

insisted on his accepting of a silver stock-buckle, and ten guineas from

his purse, though, as Malcolm told me, it did not appear to contain

above forty. Malcolm at first begged to be excused, saying, that he had

a few guineas at his service; but Prince Charles answered, 'You will

have need of money. I shall get enough when I come upon the main land.'

The Laird of M'Kinnon then conveyed him to the opposite coast of

Knoidart. Old Rasay, to whom intelligence had been sent, was crossing at

the same time to Sky; but as they did not know of each other, and each

had apprehensions, the two boats kept aloof.

These are the particulars which I have collected concerning the

extraordinary concealment and escapes of Prince Charles, in the

Hebrides. He was often in imminent danger.[556] The troops traced him

from the Long Island, across Sky, to Portree, but there lost him.

Here I stop,--having received no farther authentick information of his

fatigues and perils before he escaped to France. Kings and subjects may

both take a lesson of moderation from the melancholy fate of the House

of Stuart; that Kings may not suffer degradation and exile, and subjects

may not be harassed by the evils of a disputed succession.

Let me close the scene on that unfortunate House with the elegant and

pathetick reflections of _Voltaire_, in his _Histoire Générale_:--

'Que les hommes privés (says that brilliant writer, speaking of Prince

Charles) qui se croyent malheureux, jettent les yeux sur ce prince et

ses ancêtres.'[557] In another place he thus sums up the sad story of

the family in general:--

'Il n'y a aucun exemple dans l'histoire d'une maison si longtems

infortunée. Le premier des Rois d'Écosse, [ses aïeux] qui eut le nom de

_Jacques_, après avoir été dix-huit ans prisonnier en Angleterre, mourut

assassiné, avec sa femme, par la main de ses sujets. _Jacques_ II, son

fils, fut tué à vingt-neuf ans en combattant contre les Anglois.

_Jacques_ III, mis en prison par son peuple, fut tué ensuite par les

révoltés, dans une bataille. _Jacques_ IV, périt dans un combat qu'il

perdit. _Marie Stuart_, sa petite-fille, chassée de son trône, fugitive

en Angleterre, ayant langui dix-huit ans en prison, se vit condamnée à

mort par des juges Anglais, et eut la tête tranchée. _Charles_ Ier,

petit-fils de _Marie_, Roi d'Écosse et d'Angleterre, vendu par les

Écossois, et jugé à mort par les Anglais, mourut sur un échafaud dans la

place publique. _Jacques_, son fils, septième du nom, et deuxième en

Angleterre, fut chassé de ses trois royaumes; et pour comble de malheur

on contesta à son fils [jusqu'à] sa naissance. Ce fils ne tenta de

remonter sur le trône de ses pères, que pour faire périr ses amis par

des bourreaux; et nous avons vu le Prince _Charles Édouard_, réunissant

en vain les vertus de ses pères[558] et le courage du Roi _Jean

Sobieski_, son aïeul maternel, exécuter les exploits et essuyer les

malheurs les plus incroyables. Si quelque chose justifie ceux qui

croient une fatalité à laquelle rien ne peut se soustraire, c'est cette

suite continuelle de malheurs qui a persécuté la maison de _Stuart_,

pendant plus de trois cents années.'[559]

The gallant Malcolm was apprehended in about ten days after they

separated, put aboard a ship and carried prisoner to London. He said,

the prisoners in general were very ill treated in their passage; but

there were soldiers on board who lived well, and sometimes invited him

to share with them: that he had the good fortune not to be thrown into

jail, but was confined in the house of a messenger, of the name of Dick.

To his astonishment, only one witness could be found against him, though

he had been so openly engaged; and therefore, for want of sufficient

evidence, he was set at liberty. He added, that he thought himself in

such danger, that he would gladly have compounded for banishment[560].

Yet, he said, 'he should never be so ready for death as he then

was[561].' There is philosophical truth in this. A man will meet death

much more firmly at one time than another. The enthusiasm even of a

mistaken principle warms the mind, and sets it above the fear of death;

which in our cooler moments, if we really think of it, cannot but be

terrible, or at least very awful.

Miss Flora Macdonald being then also in London, under the protection of

Lady Primrose[562], that lady provided a post-chaise to convey her to

Scotland, and desired she might choose any friend she pleased to

accompany her. She chose Malcolm. 'So (said he, with a triumphant air) I

went to London to be hanged, and returned in a post-chaise with Miss

Flora Macdonald.'

Mr. Macleod of Muiravenside, whom we saw at Rasay, assured us that

Prince Charles was in London in 1759[563], and that there was then a

plan in agitation for restoring his family. Dr. Johnson could scarcely

credit this story, and said, there could be no probable plan at that

time. Such an attempt could not have succeeded, unless the King of

Prussia had stopped the army in Germany; for both the army and the fleet

would, even without orders, have fought for the King, to whom they had

engaged themselves.

Having related so many particulars concerning the grandson of the

unfortunate King James the Second; having given due praise to fidelity

and generous attachment, which, however erroneous the judgment may be,

are honourable for the heart; I must do the Highlanders the justice to

attest, that I found every where amongst them a high opinion of the

virtues of the King now upon the throne, and an honest disposition to be

faithful subjects to his majesty, whose family has possessed the

sovereignty of this country so long, that a change, even for the

abdicated family, would now hurt the best feelings of all his subjects.

The _abstract_ point of _right_ would involve us in a discussion of

remote and perplexed questions; and after all, we should have no clear

principle of decision. That establishment, which, from political

necessity, took place in 1688, by a breach in the succession of our

kings, and which, whatever benefits may have accrued from it, certainly

gave a shock to our monarchy,[564]--the able and constitutional

Blackstone wisely rests on the solid footing of authority. 'Our

ancestors having most indisputably a competent jurisdiction to decide

this great and important question, and having, in fact, decided it, it

is now become our duty, at this distance of time, to acquiesce in their

determination.[565]'

Mr. Paley, the present Archdeacon of Carlisle, in his _Principles of

Moral and Political Philosophy_, having, with much clearness of

argument, shewn the duty of submission to civil government to be founded

neither on an indefeasible _jus divinum_, nor on _compact_, but on

_expediency_, lays down this rational position:--

'Irregularity in the first foundation of a state, or subsequent

violence, fraud, or injustice, in getting possession of the supreme

power, are not sufficient reasons for resistance, after the government

is once peaceably settled. No subject of the _British_ empire conceives

himself engaged to vindicate the justice of the _Norman_ claim or

conquest, or apprehends that his duty in any manner depends upon that

controversy. So likewise, if the house of _Lancaster_, or even the

posterity of _Cromwell_, had been at this day seated upon the throne of

_England_, we should have been as little concerned to enquire how the

founder of the family came there[566].' In conformity with this

doctrine, I myself, though fully persuaded that the House of _Stuart_

had originally no right to the crown of _Scotland_; for that _Baliol_,

and not _Bruce_, was the lawful heir; should yet have thought it very

culpable to have rebelled, on that account, against Charles the First,

or even a prince of that house much nearer the time, in order to assert

the claim of the posterity of Baliol.

However convinced I am of the justice of that principle, which holds

allegiance and protection to be reciprocal, I do however acknowledge,

that I am not satisfied with the cold sentiment which would confine the

exertions of the subject within the strict line of duty. I would have

every breast animated with the _fervour_ of loyalty[567]; with that

generous attachment which delights in doing somewhat more than is

required, and makes 'service perfect freedom[568].' And, therefore, as

our most gracious Sovereign, on his accession to the throne, gloried in

being _born a Briton_[569]; so, in my more private sphere, _Ego me nunc_

denique natum, _gratulor_[570]. I am happy that a disputed succession no

longer distracts our minds; and that a monarchy, established by law, is

now so sanctioned by time, that we can fully indulge those feelings of

loyalty which I am ambitious to excite. They are feelings which have

ever actuated the inhabitants of the Highlands and the Hebrides. The

plant of loyalty is there in full vigour, and the Brunswick graft now

flourishes like a native shoot. To that spirited race of people I may

with propriety apply the elegant lines of a modern poet, on the 'facile

temper of the beauteous sex[571]:'--

'Like birds new-caught, who flutter for a time,

And struggle with captivity in vain;

But by-and-by they rest, they smooth their plumes,

And to _new masters_ sing their former notes[572].'

Surely such notes are much better than the querulous growlings of

suspicious Whigs and discontented Republicans.

* * * * *

Kingsburgh conducted us in his boat across one of the lochs, as they

call them, or arms of the sea, which flow in upon all the coasts of

Sky,--to a mile beyond a place called _Grishinish_. Our horses had been

sent round by land to meet us. By this sail we saved eight miles of bad

riding. Dr. Johnson said, 'When we take into computation what we have

saved, and what we have gained, by this agreeable sail, it is a great

deal.' He observed, 'it is very disagreeable riding in Sky. The way is

so narrow, one only at a time can travel, so it is quite unsocial; and

you cannot indulge in meditation by yourself, because you must be always

attending to the steps which your horse takes.' This was a just and

clear description of its inconveniences.

The topick of emigration being again introduced[573], Dr. Johnson said,

that 'a rapacious chief would make a wilderness of his estate.' Mr.

Donald M'Queen told us, that the oppression, which then made so much

noise, was owing to landlords listening to bad advice in the letting of

their lands; that interested and designed[574] people flattered them

with golden dreams of much higher rents than could reasonably be paid:

and that some of the gentlemen _tacksmen_[575], or upper tenants, were

themselves in part the occasion of the mischief, by over-rating the

farms of others. That many of the _tacksmen_, rather than comply with

exorbitant demands, had gone off to America, and impoverished the

country, by draining it of its wealth; and that their places were filled

by a number of poor people, who had lived under them, properly speaking,

as servants, paid by a certain proportion of the produce of the lands,

though called sub-tenants. I observed, that if the men of substance were

once banished from a Highland estate, it might probably be greatly

reduced in its value; for one bad year might ruin a set of poor tenants,

and men of any property would not settle in such a country, unless from

the temptation of getting land extremely cheap; for an inhabitant of any

good county in Britain, had better go to America than to the Highlands

or the Hebrides. Here, therefore, was a consideration that ought to

induce a Chief to act a more liberal part, from a mere motive of

interest, independent of the lofty and honourable principle of keeping a

clan together, to be in readiness to serve his king. I added, that I

could not help thinking a little arbitrary power in the sovereign, to

control the bad policy and greediness of the Chiefs, might sometimes be

of service. In France a Chief would not be permitted to force a number

of the king's subjects out of the country. Dr. Johnson concurred with

me, observing, that 'were an oppressive chieftain a subject of the

French king, he would probably be admonished by a _letter_.[576]'

During our sail, Dr. Johnson asked about the use of the dirk, with which

he imagined the Highlanders cut their meat. He was told, they had a

knife and fork besides, to eat with. He asked, how did the women do? and

was answered, some of them had a knife and fork too; but in general the

men, when they had cut their meat, handed their knives and forks to the

women, and they themselves eat with their fingers. The old tutor of

Macdonald always eat fish with his fingers, alledging that a knife and

fork gave it a bad taste. I took the liberty to observe to Dr. Johnson,

that he did so. 'Yes, said he; but it is because I am short-sighted, and

afraid of bones, for which reason I am not fond of eating many kinds of

fish, because I must use my fingers.'

Dr. M'Pherson's _Dissertations on Scottish Antiquities_, which he had

looked at when at Corrichatachin[577], being mentioned, he remarked,

that 'you might read half an hour, and ask yourself what you had been

reading: there were so many words to so little matter, that there was no

getting through the book.'

As soon as we reached the shore, we took leave of Kingsburgh, and

mounted our horses. We passed through a wild moor, in many places so

soft that we were obliged to walk, which was very fatiguing to Dr.

Johnson. Once he had advanced on horseback to a very bad step. There

was a steep declivity on his left, to which he was so near, that there

was not room for him to dismount in the usual way. He tried to alight on

the other side, as if he had been a _young buck_ indeed, but in the

attempt he fell at his length upon the ground; from which, however, he

got up immediately without being hurt. During this dreary ride, we were

sometimes relieved by a view of branches of the sea, that universal

medium of connection amongst mankind. A guide, who had been sent with us

from Kingsburgh, explored the way (much in the same manner as, I

suppose, is pursued in the wilds of America,) by observing certain marks

known only to the inhabitants. We arrived at Dunvegan late in the

afternoon. The great size of the castle, which is partly old and partly

new, and is built upon a rock close to the sea, while the land around it

presents nothing but wild, moorish, hilly, and craggy appearances, gave

a rude magnificence to the scene. Having dismounted, we ascended a

flight of steps, which was made by the late Macleod, for the

accommodation of persons coming to him by land, there formerly being,

for security, no other access to the castle but from the sea; so that

visitors who came by the land were under the necessity of getting into a

boat, and sailed round to the only place where it could be approached.

We were introduced into a stately dining-room, and received by Lady

Macleod, mother of the laird, who, with his friend Talisker, having been

detained on the road, did not arrive till some time after us.

We found the lady of the house a very polite and sensible woman, who had

lived for some time in London, and had there been in Dr. Johnson's

company. After we had dined, we repaired to the drawing-room, where some

of the young ladies of the family, with their mother, were at tea[578].

This room had formerly been the bed-chamber of Sir Roderick Macleod, one

of the old Lairds; and he chose it, because, behind it, there was a

considerable cascade[579], the sound of which disposed him to sleep.

Above his bed was this inscription: 'Sir Rorie M'Leod of Dunvegan,

Knight. GOD send good rest!' Rorie is the contraction of Roderick. He

was called Rorie _More_, that is, great Rorie, not from his size, but

from his spirit. Our entertainment here was in so elegant a style, and

reminded my fellow-traveller so much of England, that he became quite

joyous. He laughed, and said, 'Boswell, we came in at the wrong end of

this island.' 'Sir, (said I,) it was best to keep this for the last.' He

answered, 'I would have it both first and last.'

Life of Johnson, Volume 5 Tour to the Hebrides (1773) and Journey into North Wales (1774) · 第 57 / 228 题