taken prisoners, (about forty-eight in number,) assembled; and none of
them being quite certain of having seen the Captain since he left them
with the cannon in the bog, they supposed him to have shared the fate
of many other brave men who had fallen in the action of that day, and
which they all sincerely lamented—not only on account of the favours
he had individually conferred on them, but for the great and liberal
example which he had invariably shewn to his brother officers, in the
care and attention which he paid to his men in general; the natural
consequence of which was, that he possessed the love and confidence
of the soldiery. The disappearance, also, of the two other officers,
and twenty of their men, greatly dispirited them; and, together with
the suspension from their regular pay, induced some of them to apply
to Metcalf for a supply, in order to carry them home; but he laudably
refused any aid he might have afforded them, on being informed of the
purpose for which it was required.
The army being fixed at Edinburgh, the head-quarters were at the
Abbey. The superior officers sent for Metcalf, thinking it a singular
circumstance that a person deprived of sight should enter into the
army; and knowing that his master was missing, they desired to converse
with him. One of the officers belonging to the dragoons who retreated
from Falkirk speaking ironically of Thornton’s men, asked Jack how
_he_ got off the field of battle.—Metcalf answered, “I found it very
easy to follow by the sound of the dragoon horses, they made such a
_clatter_ over the stones.” This reply made the gentlemen turn the
laugh against him. Colonel Cockayne likewise asked how he durst venture
into the service, blind as he was; to which he replied, “that had he
possessed a pair of good eyes, he would never have come there to have
risked the loss of them by gunpowder.” Then making his obeisance, he
withdrew: For Metcalf, though he had not _read books_, had read _men_;
and received his knowledge from the school of the world.
He now determined upon a journey to Falkirk, in search of his Captain;
but this being attended with difficulty, he applied to a Knaresborough
man who lived at Edinburgh and was of the rebel party, telling him
that he wished to be a musician to Prince Charles, as he found it was
all over with the English. The man informed him that they had a spy,
an Irishman, going to the Prince; on which Metcalf set forward with
him, and he promised to recommend him on their arrival at Falkirk; but
on coming up to the English out-sentries, they were stopped:—Metcalf
inquired for the Captain, and informed him of the real cause of his
journey: by him he was kindly advised to lay aside his project, and
told that he would lose his life; but still persisting, he proceeded
with the spy, and arrived at Linlithgow, where they stayed all night.
They met with several women who had been upon plunder, and were then
on their return to Edinburgh; and the spy instructed them how to avoid
the English sentries. Metcalf was very careful to examine the cloathes
they had got, thinking that by chance he might meet with some of his
Captain’s, ignorant as he was of his fate. One of the women sent a
token by Metcalf to her husband, who was Lord George Murray’s cook:
this woman’s guide was a horse-dealer, who soon became acquainted with
Metcalf, having frequented the fairs in Yorkshire; and at this time by
some means had got introduced to the heads of both armies, and obtained
a protection from each to press horses occasionally.—This man’s fate
was remarkable; for going into Stirling, where the King’s army lay,
he found that orders were given to let no strangers pass without an
examination, which he underwent, and said that he had a protection from
General Huske: being ordered to produce it, he had the misfortune to
take that out of his pocket which he had got from the Pretender; and
when informed of his mistake, instantly produced the other—but too
late; for he was tied up by the neck to a lamp-iron, without giving him
time to put off his boots.
A short time before Metcalf and the spy left the ’Change-house
at Linlithgow, some of the van guard of the rebels came in, and
called for whiskey; and it was supposed that they dropped there a
silver-mounted pistol, which, on their setting out, the spy picked up,
and offered to Metcalf; but he refused it, saying, he thought it not
proper to have fire-arms about him, as he expected to be searched:
so they pursued their journey and presently fell in with the rebels
out-guard, several of whom, accosted Metcalf, and as all seemed well,
they were allowed to pass, and arrived at Falkirk, where he inquired
for Lord George Murray’s cook, to deliver his present, and was
afterwards introduced to and conversed with his Lordship, Secretary
Murray, and other gentlemen. Lord George gave him part of a glass of
wine, an article at that time of great value; for as the rebels had
been there three times, and the English twice, they had almost _swept
the cupboard clean of its crumbs_.
Whilst conversing with them, he was very circumspect, knowing that
his life was in danger, if the real purpose of his journey should be
discovered.
He then made his way towards the market-place, where a number of
Highlanders were assembled.—This was on Wednesday the 22d; but it
happened that his master had left the place that morning, about four
hours before his arrival.
We will now return to Captain Thornton, whom we left on Friday in the
closet, in close neighbourhood with the Highland Chiefs, who every day
transacted business in the room. The Quarter-Masters of the rebel army
having taken the house, had given the woman to whom it belonged a small
apartment backward; but every night she took care to carry him such
provisions as she could convey through a crevice at the bottom of the
door; and this mode she used for fear of alarming these who slept in
the adjoining rooms. The closet was only a yard and a half square; and
the Captain’s cloathes being wet when he entered, made his situation
the more uncomfortable, as he had got a severe cold, and sometimes
could not forbear coughing, even when the rebels were in their room.
Once in particular, hearing a cough, they said one to another “what
is that?” but one of them answered, that it was somebody in another
room;—not in the least suspecting a door in the place where the closet
was.
On Monday night the woman of the house went to the door to carry
provisions as usual, when the Captain said to her, “I am determined to
come out, let the consequence be what it may; for I will not die like
a dog in this hole;” but she begged that he would bear his confinement
till the next night, and she would adopt some plan to effect his
escape. She accordingly consulted an old carpenter, who was true to
the Royal cause, and he came the next night, removed the dresser, and
liberated the Captain. They proceeded down stairs in the dark, to the
woman’s apartment, where she made tea, whilst the carpenter concerted
their plan of operation. They dressed him in a pladdie and brogues,
with a black wig, and the carpenter packed him up a bag of tools, as
if he was going with his master to work as soon as it was light. The
Captain had only ten guineas about him, (having lost his cash with
his Lieutenant, Mr. Crofts) eight of which he gave to the woman who
had so faithfully preserved him, and two to the carpenter, who, to
secrete them, put them into his mouth along with his tobacco, fearful
of a search by the Highlanders, who would have suspected him had they
found more than a shilling. Every thing being ready, they set out, the
Captain with his bag of tools following his supposed master. On coming
into the croud, he looked about, and was rather behind; and although in
disguise, did not look like a common workman which making the old man
dread a discovery, he called out to him, “Come alang, ye filthy loon:
ye have had half a bannock and a mutchkin of drink in your wame—we
shall be too late for our day’s wark.” Whether this artifice served
him or not, is uncertain; but they got safe through the throng, and,
leaving the high-road, pursued their journey across the country. Having
come to a rising ground, the Captain took a view of Falkirk moor, and
said, “Yonder’s the place where such a sad piece of work was made of it
on Friday last.” The old man at the same time looking the other way,
saw two or three hundred Highlanders, who had been on plunder, coming
down a lane which led from Callendar-House (Lord Kilmarnock’s seat)
into the main road; and being desirous of passing the end of this lane
before they came up, in order to avoid them, said, “We shall have a
worse piece of work of it than we had on Friday, if you do not hasten
your pace;” and begged the Captain to come forward, which he did; but
walking briskly up a hill, he suddenly stopped, and said, “I am sick:”
however they gained their point, and passed the Highlanders; for had
they come up with them, the least injury would have been a march back
to Falkirk, as prisoners. On going two miles farther, they arrived at
a house belonging to a friend of the carpenter’s, and which had been
plundered: there the old man got an egg, but not being able to find
a pan to boil it, he roasted it in peat-ashes, and gave it to the
Captain, to put in his _wame_, for so he called his stomach. Proceeding
a few miles farther, they arrived at another house, where they procured
a horse for the Captain.—He arrived at the English out-posts, and
making himself known was permitted to pass, and reached Edinburgh in
safety.
With respect to Metcalf, whom we left at Falkirk, as his dress was a
plaid waistcoat laced with gold, which he had borrowed of a friend at
Edinburgh, together with a blue regimental coat faced with buff, he
told the Highlanders, in answer to their inquiries, that he had been
fiddling for the English officers, and that they had given him that
coat, which had belonged to a man who was killed; and also that his
intention was to serve in the same capacity with Prince Charles.—But
a person coming up who had seen Jack at Harrogate, said, “That fellow
ought to be taken up, for he has something more than common in his
proceedings;” on which Metcalf was taken to the guard-room, and
searched for letters, but none were found, having only a pack of cards
in his pocket, which they split, to see whether they contained any
writing in the folds, but finding none, he was put into a loft in the
roof of the building, (where the snow came in very much) along with
a dragoon, and some other prisoners, where for three days they were
suffered to remain in confinement.
In a short time Metcalf and his fellow-prisoners were tried by a
court-martial, at which he was acquitted, and had permission given
to go to the Prince; but wanting to borrow a clean shirt, they asked
him where his own were; he said, at Linlithgow, but that he durst
not go there, on account of _George’s devils_. They told him that
he might safely go with the Irishman he came with. He knew that his
companion had letters for the Highlanders’ friends at Edinburgh, but
had no intention to pass the English sentries. Metcalf amused him with
assurances that he had ten pounds at Edinburgh, for which he should
have no occasion if he joined the Prince, and that he might have the
greatest part of it: the spy, on this, became extremely desirous of his
company to Edinburgh, wishing to finger the money, and proposed going
across the country; but Metcalf said that _he_ could pass the English
sentries, by saying that he was going to Captain Thornton. They then
proceeded, and after going two miles, they met an officer, who was
reconnoitring, and he knowing Metcalf, told him that his master was
arrived at Edinburgh, which news was highly pleasing to him. On leaving
the officer, the spy accosted him with “So, what you _are_ going to
him.”—“No,” said Metcalf, “nor to any such fellows.” They then passed
the sentry, as Metcalf proposed, and arrived at Edinburgh, where they
parted, but promised to meet the next evening at nine o’clock. Jack
went directly to his Captain, who rejoiced at so unexpected a meeting.
Metcalf told him that he had given him a great deal of trouble;
adding, that he thought people might come home from market without
fetching.—The Captain smiled, and said, “What is to be done, for I
have neither money or cloathes, having left all behind at Falkirk; but
I have bills upon the road to the amount of three hundred pounds?” This
proved fortunate; for had they been a few days sooner, they might by
chance have been lost also;—but the reason of this delay was, that all
letters, directed to Scotland, were at this time sent to London, to be
examined at the General Post-Office. Metcalf told the Captain that he
could get him some money, which the other thought impossible: however
he went to a known friend, and obtained thirty pounds.—Taylors were
instantly set to work, and next morning the Captain was enabled to
visit his brother officers at the Abbey.
The army still quartered at Edinburgh, while part of the rebels were
in Falkirk, and another part at Stirling, where they raised several
batteries, and besieged Stirling Castle. The governor, General
Blakeney, made little opposition; and a shot from the batteries
killing two or three men, some of the officers were greatly enraged,
and threatened to confine the Governor: But a little time shewed that
he was right in his conduct; for letting the rebels come pretty near
the walls, on a sudden he began so hot a fire, as to kill several of
their men, demolishing their batteries, and dismounting their guns,
which made them glad to retreat, and raise the siege: and the General
having destroyed the bridge, they were obliged to make a circuitous
march before they were able to ford the river.
The Duke of Cumberland arrived at Edinburgh on the 30th of January,
1746; and two days afterwards marched out at the head of the army,
towards Falkirk, the rebels leaving it a little time before. Captain
Thornton visited the Duke often: his Royal Highness took notice of
Metcalf, and spoke to him several times on the march, observing how
well by the sound of the drum he was able to keep his pace. On the
army’s arrival at Linlithgow, intelligence was received that the
rebels were on their march to give them battle; upon which the army was
drawn up in order, and the Duke rode through the lines, and addressed
the men as follows: “If there be any who think themselves in a bad
cause, or are afraid to engage, thinking they may might against any of
their relations, let them now turn out, receive pardon, and go about
their business, without any farther question.”—On this, the whole army
gave three huzzas. But the intelligence proving false, they proceeded
to Falkirk, and continued their route through Stirling, Perth,
Montrose, Briffin, and Stonehive, to Aberdeen, where they halted. The
rebel army lay now at Strathbogie.
At Aberdeen the Duke gave a ball to the ladies, and personally
solicited Captain Thornton for his fidler, there being at that time no
music in the army except Colonel Howard’s, (the Old Buffs) and which
being wind music were unaccustomed to country dances. As the rebel
army was only twenty miles distant, no invitations were sent till
five o’clock, tho’ the ball was to begin at six. Twenty-five couples
danced for eight hours, and his Royal Highness made one of the set,
and several times, as he passed Metcalf, who stood on a chair to play,
shouted “Thornton, play up:” but Jack needed no exhortation, for he was
very well practised, and better inclined.
Next morning the Duke sent him two guineas; but as he was not permitted
to take money, he informed his Captain, who said, that as it was the
Duke’s money, he might take it; but observed, that he should give his
Royal Highness’s servants a treat. He had only three servants with him,
(viz. his gentleman, cook, and groom.) So the next night two of them
paid Metcalf a visit, and a merry party they made, the Captain ordering
them great plenty of liquor.
In a little time they proceeded on their march, and engaged the rebels
on Culloden moor, giving them a total defeat, although they had targets
to ward off the bayonet, whilst they cut away with their broad swords,
yet the Duke found a method of frustrating their plan, by pushing the
bayonet over the right arm, which rendered their targets of no use.
Kingston’s Light Horse pursued them in their disorder and flight, and
made a great slaughter amongst them.
The English prisoners were now all liberated.—Two or three of Captain
Thornton’s men had died in prison; and the rest returned home.
The rebellion being completely suppressed, Captain Thornton returned
home also, accompanied by Metcalf, of whose family it is full time to
take some notice.—He had the happiness to find his faithful partner
and children in good health; and although the former confessed that
she had entertained many fears for her poor blind adventurer, yet
knowing that a spirit of enterprize made a part of his nature, she
was often comforted by the hope, that he would, in some degree,
signalize himself, notwithstanding the misfortune under which he
laboured.—This declaration, following a most cordial reception, gave
full confirmation to an opinion which Metcalf had ever held, viz. that
the caresses and approbation of the softer sex, are the highest reward
a soldier can deserve or obtain.
The notice with which the Duke of Cumberland had honoured Metcalf, gave
him much reason to believe, that, had he followed him to London, he
would have received more marks of his Royal favour.—But Metcalf was
deficient to himself in this instance; neglecting to solicit further
notice till it was judged too late to make application.
About a year after their return, a vacancy happening in the
representation for the city of York, the citizens sent for Mr.
Thornton, and unanimously elected him, free of all expence.
A short time after this, the militia was raised, and he was, as his
merit well entitled him to be, appointed Colonel of the West-York
battalion; which situation he held, with advantage to the service, and
honour to himself, for the remainder of his life.
Blind Jack being now at liberty to choose his occupation, attended
Harrogate as usual; but having, in the course of his Scotch expedition,
become acquainted with the various articles manufactured in that
country, and judging that some of those might answer for him to
traffic with in England, he repaired, in the spring, to Scotland, and
supplied himself with various articles in the cotton and worsted way,
particularly Aberdeen stockings. For all those articles he found a
ready sale at the houses of gentlemen in the extensive County of York;
and being personally known to most of the families, was ever very
kindly received. He never was at a loss to know, amongst a thousand
articles, what each had cost him, from a particular mode of marking.
It was also customary with him to buy horses, for sale in Scotland,
bringing back galloways in return; and in this traffic he depended on
feeling the animals, to direct his choice.
He also engaged pretty deeply in the contraband trade, the profits of
which were at that time much more considerable than the risk.
One time in particular, having received a pressing letter from
Newcastle-upon-Tyne, requiring his speedy attendance, he set out on
horseback from Knaresborough at three in the morning, and got into
Newcastle in the evening about six o’clock, the distance nearly
seventy-four miles, and did not feel the least fatigued.
Having received some packages, he employed a few soldiers to convey
them to a carrier, judging that men of their description were least
liable to suspicion. After sending off his goods, he stayed two nights
with some relations he had there, and then set off for home. He had
with him about an hundred weight of tea, cased over with tow, and
tightly corded up; this he put into a wallet, which he laid across his
saddle.
Coming to Chester-le-Street, (about half-way between Newcastle and
Durham) he met at the inn an exciseman, who knew him as soon as he had
dismounted, and asked him what he had got there. Metcalf answered, “It
is some tow and line for my aunt, who lives a few miles distant;—I
wish she was far enough for giving me the trouble to fetch it.” The
officer asking him to bring it in, he replied, “For the time I shall
stay it may as well remain on the horsing-stone.” By this seeming
indifference about his package, he removed suspicion from the mind of
the exciseman, who assisted in re-placing it across the saddle; when he
pursued his journey, and got home in safety.
Once having disposed of a string of horses, he bought, with the
produce, a quantity of rum, brandy, and tea, to the amount of 200_l._,
put them on board a vessel for Leith, and travelled over-land, on
foot, to meet the vessel there. He had about thirty miles to walk, and
carried near five stone weight of goods which he did not choose to put
on shipboard. At Leith he had the mortification to wait six weeks,
without receiving any tidings of the vessel, which many supposed to
have been lost, there having been a storm in the interval. The distress
of mind resulting from this, induced him once to say, “If she is lost,
I wish I had been in her; for she had all my property on board.” Soon
after, however, the ship got into Leith harbour. He there went on
board, and set sail for Newcastle; but another storm arising, the mate
was washed overboard, the mainsail carried away, and the ship driven
near the coast of Norway. Despair now became general; the prospect of
going to the bottom seeming almost certain. He now reflected on the
impiety of his wish respecting the former storm; and so effectually
was his way of thinking changed, that had he had all the current coin
of the universe, he would have given it to have been on shore. It now
appeared to him a dreadful thing to leave the world in the midst of
health and vigour; but the wind changing, hope began to return, and the
Captain put about for the Scotch coast, intending to make Arbrothie.
A signal of distress was put up, but the sea ran so high, that no
boat could venture out with a pilot. He then stood in for the harbour,
but struck against the pier end, owing to the unmanageable state of
the vessel, from the loss of her mainsail: she narrowly escaped being
bulged; but having got to the back of the pier, was towed round into
the harbour, with near five feet water in her hold. Her escape from the
merciless elements, however, did not seem to terminate her dangers,
the country people shewing a disposition to seize her as a wreck, and
plunder her; but fortunately there was at hand a party, consisting of
an officer and twenty men, of Pulteney’s regiment, who had been in
pursuit of some smugglers; and Metcalf knowing them well, (Colonel
Thornton’s company being attached to that regiment) the officer sent
three files of men to protect the vessel, while the crew were removing
the goods to a warehouse.
As this vessel stood in need of repairs, Metcalf put his goods on
board another, and in her got to Newcastle. There he met with an
acquaintance; and from the seeming cordiality at the meeting, he
thought he might have trusted his life in the hands of this man. With
this impression, Metcalf opened to him the state of his affairs;
informing him that he had got four hundred gallons of gin and brandy,
for which he had a permit, and about thirty gallons for which he had
none, and which he wanted to land; telling him, at the same time,
of the harrassing voyage he had just finished: But, it seems, his
misfortunes were only about to commence; for, in a quarter of an hour,
he found that the man whom he had taken for a friend had gone down to
the quay side, and, giving information of what he knew, had all the
goods seized, and brought on shore. Metcalf imagined that none were
seizable but the small part for which he had not obtained a permit; but
was soon undeceived, the whole being liable to seizure, as not agreeing
with the specified quantity.