Glendessery, and a kinswoman of Lochiel. She is reported to have been a
widow, and upwards of forty, according to one account,--to another, of
fifty years of age. Her father, whose estate did not exceed in value one
hundred and fifty pounds a year, had endeavoured to improve it by
dealing in cattle, a business frequently followed even by men of good
family in the Highlands. He had been some time dead, and the estate had
devolved upon his grandson, a youth of weak intellect, to whom Miss
Cameron acted as curatrix or guardian. The young man, although then of
age, left all matters of business entirely to his aunt; and she came,
therefore, to the standard of Prince Charles, as the representative of
her nephew.
Her appearance, if we are to accredit contemporary statements, must have
been extremely singular. Having collected a troop of two hundred and
fifty men, she marched at the head of it to the camp at Glenfinnin. She
was dressed in a sea-green riding-habit, with a scarlet lappet, laced
with gold; her hair was tied behind in loose curls, and surmounted with
a velvet cap, and a scarlet feather. She rode a bay gelding, with green
furniture, richly trimmed with gold; in her hand she carried a naked
sword instead of a riding-whip. Her countenance is described as being
agreeable, and her figure handsome;[279] her eyes were fine, and her
hair as black as jet. In conversation she was full of intelligence and
vivacity.[280] The Prince, it is said, rode out of the lines to receive
her, and to welcome the addition to his army, and conducted her to a
tent with much ceremony. It was reported that Mrs. Cameron continued in
the camp as the commander of her troop, and accompanied the Prince into
England. But this account is contradicted by Bishop Forbes. "She was so
far," he says, "from accompanying the Prince's army, that she went off
with the rest of the spectators as soon as the army marched; neither did
she ever follow the camp, nor was ever with the Prince but in
public,[281] when he had his Court in Edinburgh."[282]
The Prince remained at Glenfinnin two days, and was observed to be in
high spirits. Here he was presented by Major Macdonell with the first
good horse that he had mounted in Scotland. Charles Edward then marched
his little army to Lochiel, which is about five miles from Glenfinnin,
resting first at Fassefern, the seat of Lochiel's brother, and then
proceeded to a village called Moidh, belonging to Lochiel.
From this time the fate of Lochiel was inevitably bound up with that of
the Prince. At the siege of Edinburgh he distinguished himself at the
head of his Camerons in the following manner:--When the deputies who
were appointed by the town council to request a further delay from
Charles set out in a hackney coach for Gray's Mill to prevail upon Lord
George Murray to second their application, as the Netherbow Port was
opened to let out their coach, the Camerons, headed by Lochiel, rushed
in and took possession of the city. The brave chief afterwards obtained
from Prince Charles the guard of the city, as he was more acquainted
with Edinburgh than the rest of the Highland chiefs; and his discipline
was so exact that the city guns, persons, and effects were as secure
under his care as in the time of peace. There was indeed some pilfering
in the country, but not more than was to be expected in the
neighbourhood of an army of undisciplined Highlanders.
Lochiel remained in Edinburgh while the Prince continued there, and
witnessed the brief splendour of the young Chevalier's Court: it is thus
described by an eye-witness:[283]--"The Prince's Court at Holyrood soon
became very brilliant. There were every day, from morning till night, a
vast affluence of well-dressed people. Besides the gentlemen that had
joined or come upon business, or to pay their court, there were a great
number of ladies and gentlemen that came either out of affection or
curiosity, besides the desire of seeing the Prince. There had not been a
Court in Scotland for a long time, and people came from all quarters to
see so many novelties. One would have thought the King was already
restored, and in peaceable possession of all the dominions of his
ancestors, and that the Prince had only made a trip to Scotland to show
himself to the people and receive their homage. Such was the splendour
of the Court, and such the satisfaction that appeared in everybody's
countenance."
At the battle of Falkirk, Lochiel was slightly wounded, as well as his
brother Archibald.[284] Throughout that engagement, as well as during
the whole of the unhappy contest of 1745-6, Lochiel distinguished
himself by his clemency, gallantry, and good faith. An incident which
happened after the battle of Falkirk, shows the respect paid to the head
of the clan.
While Charles Edward was standing at an open window at his house in
Falkirk, reading a list of prisoners just presented by Lord Kilmarnock,
a soldier in the uniform of one of King George's regiments made his
appearance in the street below. He was armed with a musket and bayonet,
and wore a black cockade in his hat, as it appeared, by way of defiance.
Upon perceiving this, Charles directed the attention of Lord Kilmarnock,
who was standing near him, to the soldier. Lord Kilmarnock ran down
stairs immediately, went up to the soldier, struck the hat off his head,
and set his foot on the black cockade. At that instant a Highlander came
running across the street, and laid hands on Lord Kilmarnock, and pushed
him back. Lord Kilmarnock pulled out a pistol and presented it at the
Highlander's head: the Highlander drew out his dirk and pointed it at
Lord Kilmarnock's heart. After remaining in this position a few seconds
they were separated: the man with the dirk took up the hat and put it on
the head of the soldier, who was marched off in triumph by the
Highlanders.
This little scene was explained to some of the bystanders thus: The man
in the King's uniform was a Cameron, who, after the defeat of the
Government army, had joined his clan. He was received with joy by the
Camerons, who permitted him to wear his uniform until others could be
procured. The Highlander who pointed the dirk at Lord Kilmarnock's
breast, was the soldier's brother; the crowd who surrounded him were his
kinsmen of the clan. No one, it was their opinion, "could take that
cockade out of the soldier's cap, except Lochiel himself."[285] Lochiel
accompanied the Prince in his disastrous expedition to Derby.
At the end of February 1746, he was sent with General Stapleton to
besiege Fort William. He left that enterprise when summoned by Charles
Edward to assemble around his standard on the field of Culloden. On the
eventful fourteenth of April, the day before the battle, Lochiel joined
the Prince's army: that night, the Highlanders, who never pitched a
tent, lay among the furze and trees of Culloden Wood, whilst their young
leader slept beneath the roof of Culloden House.
The following extract from the Duke of Cumberland's orderly-book shows
how closely that able general and detestable individual had studied the
habits of those whom it was his lot to conquer; and mark also his
contempt for the "Lowlanders and arrant scum" who sometimes made up the
lines behind the Highlanders.[286]
"Edinburgh, 12 Jan. 1745-6. Sunday Parole, Derby.
"Field-officer for the day: to-morrow Major Willson. The manner of
the Highlander's way of fighting, which there is nothing so easy to
resist, if officers and men are not prepossessed with the lyes and
accounts which are told of them. They commonly form their front rank
of what they call their best men, or true Highlanders, the number of
which being allways but few, when they form in battallions they
commonly form four deep, and these Highlanders form the front of the
four, the rest being Lowlanders and arrant scum; when these
battallions come within a large musket-shott, or three-score yards,
this front rank gives their fire and immediately throw down their
firelocks and come down in a cluster with their swords and targets,
making a noise and endeavouring to pearce the body, or battallions
before them. Becoming twelve or fourteen deep by the time they come
up to the people, they attack. The sure way to demolish them is at
three deep to fire by ranks diagonally to the centre where they
come, the rear rank first, and even that rank not to fire till they
are within ten or twelve paces; but if the fire is given at a
distance you probably will be broke, for you never get time to load
a second cartridge; and if you give way, you may give your foot for
dead, for they being without a firelock, or any load, no man with
his arms, accoutrements, &c. can escape them, and they give no
quarters; but if you will but observe the above directions, the are
the most despicable enemy that are."
On the following day when the army, being drawn up on Drumossie Moor,
waited in vain till mid-day for the approach of the enemy, Charles
addressed his generals and chiefs, and proposed to attack the Duke of
Cumberland's camp at Nairn that evening.
His proposal was, unfortunately for his brave followers, not seconded by
the powerful voice of Lord George Murray. Lochiel, who was not a man
given to much elocution, recommended delay, and urged that the army
would be at least fifteen hundred stronger on the following day. The
return of the army to Culloden, fatigued and famished, between five and
six o'clock on the following morning, was the result of that ill-advised
attempt. At eight o'clock the alarm was given at Culloden House by one
of the clan Cameron, that the Duke's army was in full march towards
them.
When the army was formed into two lines, Lochiel's regiment was placed
on the left, next to the Athole Brigade. The Camerons, with the
Maclaclans and Macleans, the Mackintoshes, the Stuarts, attacked sword
in hand. Most of the chiefs who commanded these five regiments were
killed, and Cameron of Lochiel, advancing at the head of his regiment,
was so near Burrel's regiment[287] that he had fired his pistol, and was
drawing his sword when he fell wounded with grape-shot in both ankles.
His two brothers, afterwards more unfortunate even than himself, were on
each side of him; they raised him up, and bore him off the field in
their arms. The Camerons, at the field of Culloden, sustained the
greatness of their fame; nor have the imputations which were cast upon
other clans, perhaps had a just foundation of truth. No reliance can be
placed upon the opinions of the English press at the time.[288]
The blood of Cameron of Lochiel was sought, as Mrs. Grant expresses it,
with the "most venomous perseverance." His own country, to which he was
at first removed, affording him no shelter,[289] he sheltered himself in
the Braes of Bannoch. He suffered long from his wounds, until in June,
his friend Clunie Macpherson brought from Edinburgh a physician, Sir
Stewart Threipland, who gave him the benefit of his aid. Meantime the
spirit of Lochiel remained undaunted; and he who had entered into the
insurrection unwillingly, was almost the last to give up the cause. A
resolution was taken on the eighth of May by the chieftains to raise
each a body of men, for the service of the Prince; and the rendezvous
was appointed at Achnacarry on the fifteenth instant. We find a letter
addressed by Lochiel on May the twenty-fifth to the chiefs, accounting
for his not having met them according to promise, by the risk of a
surprise, and recommending them to keep quiet until a promised succour
from France. The letter speaks the language of hope; but whether that
was the real feeling of the writer, or only intended to keep up
exertion, cannot be ascertained. In the postscript Lochiel states his
regret that many had given up their arms without his knowledge. "I
cannot," he adds, "take upon me to direct in this particular, but to
give my opinion, and let every one judge for himself."
During May, Lochiel continued at Loch Arkeg, preparing for a summer
campaign, and corresponding with Clunie Macpherson and with the
treacherous Murray of Broughton on the subject. He was, at this time, in
want of food and money. "I have scarcely a sufficiency of meal," he
writes, "to serve myself and the gentlemen who are with me for four
days, and can get none to purchase in this country."[290] After the
breaking up of the scheme of fresh cooperations in May, and when
Lochaber was occupied by the Government troops, Lochiel became anxious
to retire to Badenoch. This district is one of the wildest parts of the
Highlands; though destitute of wood, it afforded shelter in its rocky
dens and in the sides of its rugged hills. Not only did Lochiel desire
repose and safety, but he longed to be beyond the reach of those
heartrending accounts which were ever brought to him of the sufferings
of his people, and of the dwellers in Lochaber. The severities and
cruelties of the military, licensed by the Duke of Cumberland to every
atrocity, to use the simple language of Mr. Forbes, "bore very hard upon
him." One day[291] when accounts were brought to Lochiel, in Badenoch,
that the poor people in Lochaber had been so pillaged and harassed that
they had really no necessaries to keep in their lives, Lochiel took out
his purse and gave all the money he could well spare to be distributed
among such in Lochaber. "And," said a friend who was with him, "I
remember nothing better than that Sir Stewart Threipland at that time
took out his purse and gave five guineas, expressing himself in these
words: "I am sure that I have not so much for myself; but then, if I be
spared I know where to get more, whereas these poor people know not
where to get the smallest assistance!""
Meantime the news reached Lochiel of the total destruction of his house
at Achnacarrie. Previously to the demolition of the house, the family
had buried or concealed many things in the earth. The English soldiers,
encamping round the smoking ruins, are said, on tradition, to have
actually boiled their kettles at the foot of each of a fine avenue of
plane-trees. The avenue remains, and fissures can still be traced
running up the stem of each tree. Not a memorial of the House of
Achnacarrie remained. For this, and other acts of wanton barbarity, the
pretext was that the Camerons, as well as other tribes, had promised to
surrender arms at a certain time, but had broken their word. "His Royal
Highness, the Duke of Cumberland," to borrow from a contemporary writer,
"began with the rebels in a gentle, paternal way, with soft admonitions,
with a promise of protection to all the common people that would bring
in their arms, and submit to mercy." Since, however, some equivocated,
and others broke their word, the Duke was obliged to lay "the rod on
more heavy." Fire and sword were therefore carried through the country
of the Camerons; the cattle were driven away; even the cotter's hut
escaped not: the homes of the poor were laid in ashes: their sheep and
pigs slaughtered: and the wretched inmates of the huts, flying to the
mountains, were found there, some expiring, some actually dead of
hunger. The houses of the clergy were crowded with the homeless and
starving: whole districts were depopulated: the Sabbath was outraged by
acts of destruction, which wounded, in the nicest point, the feelings
of the religious mountaineer; and the goods of the rebels were publicly
auctioned, without any warrant of a civil court. During all these
proceedings, the "jovial Duke," as he was called, was making merry at
Fort Augustus in a manner which, if possible, casts more odium on his
memory even than his atrocious and unpunished cruelties.[292]
Achnacarrie was razed to the ground. A modern structure, suitable in
splendour to the truly noble family who possess it, has arisen in its
place; but no erection can restore the house of Sir Ewan Dhu, and the
home of his "gentle" grandson, Donald Cameron. As the plunderers
ransacked the house, they found a picture of Lochiel, and one which was
accounted a good likeness. This was given to the soldiers, who were
dispatched over Corryarie in search of the wounded and unfortunate
original. On the top of that mountain the military encountered
Macpherson of Urie, who, being of a fair and pleasing aspect, was
mistaken by them for Lochiel.
"Urie," writes Mrs. Grant, who had the story from himself, "was a
Jacobite, and had been _out_, as the phrase was then. The soldiers
seized him, and assured him he was a d----d rebel, and that his title
was Lochiel. He, in turn, assured them that he was neither d----d, nor a
rebel, nor by any means Lochiel. When he understood, however, that they
were in search of Lochiel, and going in the very direction where he lay
concealed, he gave them reason finally to suppose he was the person they
sought. They returned to Fort Augustus where the Duke of Cumberland then
lay, in great triumph with their prisoners; Urie, as he expected, from
the indulgence of some who were about the Duke, was very soon set at
liberty."
This temporary captivity of Urie had, however, the effect of allowing
Lochiel time to contrive means of escape from the country. There was
one, however, dear to him as his own life, whose continuance in Scotland
ensured that of Lochiel. This was Prince Charles, who evinced for
Lochiel a regard, and displayed a degree of confidence in his fidelity,
which were amply merited by the tried affection of the chieftain. For
nearly three months Lochiel remained ignorant of the fate of Charles,
until the joyful tidings were brought of his being safe at Loch-Arkeg.
Lochiel was at Ben Aulder, a hill of great circumference in Badenoch,
when he received this intelligence from one of his tenants named
Macpherson, who was sent by Cameron of Clunes to find out Lochiel and
Clunie, and to inform them that their young master was safe.
Upon the return of Macpherson to Cameron of Clunes, the Prince, being
informed where Lochiel was, sent Lochgarry and Dr. Archibald Cameron
with a message to them. Since it was impossible that Lochiel could go to
the Prince on account of his wounds, it was agreed between Lochiel and
these friends, that Charles should take refuge near Achnacarrie, as the
safest place for him to pass some time; and Dr. Cameron and Lochgarry
returned to Charles to impart the details of this arrangement. The
attachment of Charles to Lochiel was shown in a very forcible manner:
when he was informed that the chief was safe and recovering, he
expressed the greatest satisfaction, and fervently returned thanks to
God. The ejaculation of praise and thanksgiving was reiterated three or
four times.
Charles now crossed Loch Arkeg, and took up his abode in a fir-wood on
the west side of the lake, to await the arrival of Clunie, who had
promised to meet him there. The impatience of the Prince to behold his
friends Clunie and Lochiel was so great, that he set out for Badenoch
before Clunie could arrive.
Lochiel had, during the months of June and July, remained on Ben Aulder,
under which name is comprehended a great chase belonging to Clunie. His
dwelling was a miserable shieling at Mellamir, which contained him and
his friend Macpherson of Breackachie, also his principal servant, Allan
Cameron, and two servants of Clunie. Here Clunie and Lochiel, who were
cousins-german, were chiefly supplied with provisions by Macpherson of
Breackachie, who was married to a sister of Clunie. The secret of their
retreat was known to many persons; but the fidelity of the Highlanders
was such, that though the Earl of Loudon had a military post not many
miles from Ben Aulder, he had not the slightest knowledge of the place
of Lochiel's concealment. The same high principle which guarded Prince
Charles in his wanderings, and resisted the temptation of a large
reward, protected Lochiel in his retirement.
In this retreat he was found by the Prince, who had missed Clunie, and
had gradually made his way through Badenoch to the Braes of Bannoch,
accompanied by five persons. When Lochiel from his hut beheld a party
approaching, all armed, he concluded that a troop of militia were coming
to seize him. Lame as he was, it was in vain to think of retreating: he
held a short conference with his friends, and then resolved to receive
the supposed assailants with a general discharge of fire-arms. He had
twelve firelocks and some small pistols in the botine or hut; these were
all made ready, the pieces levelled, and planted; and Lochiel and his
friends trusted to getting the better of the searchers, whose number did
not exceed their own. Thus Charles Edward, after the unparalleled
dangers of his recent wanderings, ran a risk of being killed by one of
his most devoted adherents! "But," observes Clunie, in relating this
circumstance, "the auspicious hand of God, and his providence, so
apparent at all times in the preservation of his Royal Highness,
prevented those within from firing at the Prince and his four
attendants, for they came at last so near that they were known by those
within."[293]
It was, indeed, no difficult matter to discern in the person of Charles
Edward the handsome and princely youth who had presided over the Court
at Holyrood. He had discarded the old black kilt, philibeg, and
waistcoat which he had worn at Loch Arkeg, for a coarse, brown, short
coat: a new article of dress, such as a pair of shoes and a new shirt,
had lately replenished his wardrobe. He had a long red beard, and wore a
pistol and dirk by his side, carrying always a gun in his hand. Yet "the
young Italian," as the Whigs delighted to call him, had braved the
rigours of his fate, and thriven beneath the severities of the Scottish
climate. His spirits were good; his frame, originally slender, had
become robust: he had fared in the rudest manner, and had acquired the
faculty of sleeping soundly, even with the dread of a surprise ever
before him.
Lochiel, on the other hand, was lame, and had suffered long from his
close quarters, and from anxiety and sorrow. Tradition has brought down
to us the accounts of the chief's personal beauty. Though fair, he was
not effeminate; his countenance was regular and expressive. But those
attributes which completed the romance of Lochiel's character must have
been almost obliterated during these months of trial, infirm health, and
uncured wounds. His spirit was not yet subdued. Eventually that noble
heart was broken by all that it had endured, but, at that epoch of his
eventful life, it still throbbed with hope.
When Lochiel perceived that it was Charles Edward who approached, he
made the best of his way, though lame, to receive his Prince. "The joy
at this meeting," writes Clunie, "is much easier to be conceived than
described." Lochiel attempted to kneel. "Oh no, my dear Lochiel!" cried
the Prince; "we do not know who may be looking from the top of yonder
hills; and if they see any such motions, they will conclude that I am
here." Lochiel then shewed him into his habitation, and gave him the
best welcome that he could: the Prince, followed by his retinue, among
whom were the two outlaws, or "broken men," who had succoured him, and
whom he had retained in his service, entered the hut.[294] A repast,
almost amounting to a feast in the eyes of these fugitives, was prepared
for them, having been brought by young Breackachie. It consisted of a
plentiful supply of mutton; an anker of whiskey, containing twenty
Scots' pints; some good beef sausages, made the year before; with plenty
of butter and cheese, besides a well-cured ham. The Prince pledged his
friends in a hearty dram, and frequently (perhaps, as the event showed,
too frequently) called for the same inspiring toast again. When some
minced collops were dressed with butter, in a large saucepan always
carried about with them, by Clunie and Lochiel, Charles Edward,
partaking heartily of that incomparable dish, exclaimed, "Now,
gentlemen, I live like a prince." "Have you," he said to Lochiel,
"always lived so well here?" "Yes, sir," replied the chief; "for three
months, since I have been here with my cousin Clunie, he has provided me
so well, that I have had plenty of such as you see. I thank Heaven your
Highness has been spared to take a part!"