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 [Footnote: I do not call him the Prince of Wales, or the
Prince, because I am quite satisfied that the right which the House of
Stuart had to the throne is extinguished. I do not call him the
Pretender, because it appears to me as an insult to one who is still
alive, and, I suppose, thinks very differently. It may be a
parliamentary expression; but it is not a gentlemanly expression. I
KNOW, and I exult in having it in my power to tell, that the ONLY
PERSON in the world who is intitled to be offended at this delicacy,
thinks and feels as I do; and has liberality of mind and generosity of
sentiment enough to approve of my tenderness for what even HAS BEEN
Blood Royal. That he is A PRINCE by COURTESY, cannot be denied;
because his mother was the daughter of Sobiesky, king of Poland. I
shall, therefore, ON THAT ACCOUNT ALONE, distinguish him by the name
of PRINCE CHARLES EDWARD.] 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.' [Footnote: This perhaps, was said in
allusion to some lines ascribed to Pope, on his lying, at John Duke of
Argyle's, at Adderbury, in the same bed in which Wilmot, Earl of
Rochester, had slept.
With no poetick ardour fir'd,
I press the bed where Wilmot lay.
That here he liv'd; or here expir'd.
Begets no numbers, grave or gay.]
The room was decorated with a great variety of maps and prints. Among
others, was Hogarth's print of Wilkes grinning, with the 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 group. It
reminded me of Sir William Chambers's Account of Oriental Gardening,
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.
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.
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.
[Footnote: With virtue weigh'd, what worthless trash is gold!]
What he meant by writing them I could not tell. [Footnote: Since the
first edition of this book, an ingenious friend has observed to me,
that Dr Johnson had probably been thinking on the reward which was
offered by government for the apprehension of the grandson of King
James II and that he meant by these words to express his admiration of
the Highlanders, whose fidelity and attachment had resisted the golden
temptation that had been held out to them.] 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, 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 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 a 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
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's 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 Malcom, 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.[Footnote: This old
Scottish Member of Parliament, I am Informed, is still living (1785).]
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. 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 musquet 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 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.'
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.
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 wash 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 shoulld 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. The troops traced him from
the Long Island, across Sky, to Portree, but there lost him.
Here I stop, having received no farther authentic 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 harrassed 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 Generale. 'Que les
hommes prives,' says that brilliant writer, speaking of Prince
Charles, 'qui se croyent malheureux, jettent les yeux sur ce prince et
ses ancetres.'
In another place he thus sums up the sad story of the family in
general:
II n'y a aucun exemple dans l'histoire d'une maison si longtems
infortunee. Le premier des Rois d'Ecosse, qui eut le nom de Jacques,
apres avoir ete dix-huit ans prisonnier en Angleterre, mourut
assassine, avec sa femme, par la main de ses sujets. Jacques II, son
fils, fut tue a vingt-neuf ans en combattant centre les Anglois.
Jacques III, mis en prison par son peuple, fut tue ensuite par les
revoltes, dans une battaille. Jacques IV perit dans un combat qu'il
perdit. Marie Stuart, sa petite fille, chassee, de son trone, fugitive
en Angleterre, ayant langui dix-huit ans en prison, se vit condamnee a
mort par des juges Anglais, et eut la tete tranchee. Charles I, petit
fils de Marie, Roi d'Ecosse et d'Angleterre, vendu par les Ecossois,
et juge a mort par les Anglais, mourut sur un echauffaut dans la place
publique. Jacques, son fils, septieme du nom, et deuxieme en
Angleterre, fut chasse de ses trois royaumes; et pour comble de
malheur on contesta a son fils sa naissance; le fils ne tenta de
remonter sur le trone de ces peres, que pour faire perir ses amis par
des bourreaux; et nous avons vu le Prince Charles Edouard, reunuissant
en vain les vertus de ses peres, et le courage du Roy Jean Sobieski,
son ayeul maternel, executer les exploits et essuyer les malheurs les
plus incroyables. Si quelque chose justifie ceux qui croyent une
fatalite a laquelle rien ne peut se soustraire, c'est cette suite
continuelle de malheurs qui a persecute la maison de Stuart, pendant
plus de trois-cent annees.
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. Yet, he said, he should never be so ready for death as he
then was. 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, 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, 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 judgement 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 had
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, 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.' [Footnote: Commentaries on the Laws of England,
Book I. chap. 3.]
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
EXPEDIANCY, 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. [Footnote: Book VI. chap. 3. Since I
have quoted Mr Archdeacon Paley upon one subject, I cannot but
transcribe, from his excellent work, a distinguished passage in
support of the Christian Revelation. After shewing, in decent but
strong terms, the unfairness of the INDIRECT attempts of modern
infidels to unsettle and perplex religious principles, and
particularly the irony, banter, and sneer, of one whom he politely
calls 'an eloquent historian', the archdeacon thus expresses himself:
'Seriousness is not constraint of thought; nor levity, freedom. Every
mind which wishes the advancement of truth and knowledge, in the most
important of all human researches, must abhor this licentiousness, as
violating no less the laws of reasoning than the rights of decency.
There is but one description of men to whose principles it ought to be
tolerable. I mean that class of reasoners who can see LITTLE in
Christianity even supposing it to be true. To such adversaries we
address this reflection. Had Jesus Christ delivered no other
declaration than the following, "The hour is coming in the which all
that are in the graves shall hear his voice, and shall come forth,
--they that have done well unto the resurrection of life, and they
that have done evil unto the resurrection of damnation," he had
pronounced a message of inestimable importance, and well worthy of
that splendid apparatus of prophecy and miracles with which his
mission was introduced and attested--a message in which the wisest of
mankind would rejoice to find an answer to their doubts, and rest to
their inquiries. It is idle to say that a future state had been
discovered already. It had been discovered as the Copernican System
was; it was one guess amongst many. He alone discovers who PROVES; and
no man can prove this point but the teacher who testifies by miracles
that his doctrine comes from God' (Book V. chap. 9).
If infidelity be disingenuously dispersed in every shape that is
likely to allure, surprise, or beguile the imagination--in a fable, a
tale, a novel, a poem, in books of travels, of philosophy, of natural
history, as Mr Paley has well observed--I hope it is fair in me thus
to meet such poison with an unexpected antidote, which I cannot doubt
will be found powerful.]
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; with that
generous attachment which delights in doing somewhat more than is
required, and makes 'service perfect freedom'. And, therefore, as our
most gracious Sovereign, on his accession to the throne, gloried in
being born a Briton; so, in my more private sphere, Ego me nunc
denique natum gratulor. 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':
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. [Footnote: Agis, a
tragedy, by John Home.]
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 the 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 inconveniencies.
The topick of emigration being again introduced, 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 people flattered them with golden
dreams of much higher rents than could reasonably be paid; and that
some of the gentlemen tacksmen, 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'.
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, 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 accomodation 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. 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, 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.'