n •Si; Columbia ®nîberôitp întJjeCitpof jOtetugorfe LIBRARY ,^..^„^. r /^ /./('^Z /^ V/^/ ^;/ r^VV/^/?' ' V/////Ay, •^. ^/.///. A'//// (in oritffnuf hrtiitY h' VatuhUi .t'n ihf fH'f,^-*'^^^^»! ty'Â'ar/^fam'7tamp. nîim,^h2x/k«Jl'fyZ.ffnonian,IStrft,Mtt^, Omt*. tmS-Jinffwnt.Ji^'T S^:16i.i MEMOIRS THE REBELLION 1745 AND 1746. BY THE CHEVALIER DE JOHNSTONE, AID-DE-CAMP TO LORD GEORGE MURRAY, GENERAL OF THE REBEL ARMY, ASSISTANT AID-nE-CAIMP TO PRINCE CHARLES EDWARD, CAPTAIN IN THE DUKE OF PERTH'S REGIMENT, AND AFTERWARDS AN OFFICER IN THE FRENCH SERVICE. CONTAINING A NARRATIVE OF THE PROGRESS OF THE REBELLION, FROM ITS COMMENCEMENT TO THE BATTLE OF CULLODEN; THE CHARACTERS OF THE PRINCIPAL PERSONS ENGAGED IN IT, AND ANECDOTES RESPECTING THEM; AND VARIOUS IMPORTANT PARTICULARS RELATING TO THAT CONTEST, HITHERTO EITHER UNKNOWN OR IMPERFECTLY UNDiERSTOOD. WITH AN ACCOUNT OF THE SUFFERINGS AND PRIVATIONS EXPERIENCED BY THE AUTHOR AFTER THE BATTLE OF CULLODEN, BEFORE HE EFFECTED HIS ESCAPE TO THE CONTINENT, &C. &C. TRANSLATED FROM A FRENCH MS. - ORIGINALLY DEPOSITED IN THE SCOTS COLLEGE AT PARIS, AND NOW IN THE HANDS OP THE PUBLISHERS. Second COitioit, WITH ADDITIONAL NOTES, &C. LONDON: PRINTED FOR LONGMAN, HURST, REES, ORME, AND BROWN, . PAXEBNOSTER-KOW. 182L fA - I..- 3 London : Printed by A. il- R. Spoltiswoode, Neiv-Strcet-Sqiiare. ADVERTISEMENT TO TITE SECOND EDITION. The rapid sale of the first edition of these Memoirs affords an unequivocal proof of their favourable reception. Anxious to throw as much light as possible on the sub- ject of them, the Editor has on several occa- sions enlarged the notes, in consequence of recent information or further reflection. To John Voung, Esq., Writer to the Signet, of Edinburgh, he has been indebted for many of these additions; andhe gladly avails himself of this opportunity to request that gentleman to accept of his best thanks. The work has been noticed in a number of Reviews and Journals ; and though opi- nion has varied respecting the historical importance of the Memoirs, that they are highly interesting has been always allowed, and the labours of the Editor have almost uniformly been spoken of in a manner not 164^1 4 IV ADVERTISEMENT TO THE a little flatterino; to him. The views wliidi he has taken have in most instances been acquiesced in, though some have thought that he has judoed too harshlv of Charles. It may be so. He felt that too favourable an opinion was generally entertained of that Prince, and that some pains had been taken to keep up the delusion ; and, in the fervovu* of opposition, he may have done, what we are all but too apt to do, rushed from one extreme into another. Something of this kind almost always takes place in the progress from error to truth ; for when the rod is bent one way, to straighten it we must bend it as much the other way. But the Editor is not sensible of having gone too far. At all events, he is not prepared to admit that the principle which led him to endeavour to correct what he conceived false impressions on this and other subjects connected with the Rebellion, namely, an anxiety for the " truth of history,'* is found- ed in error ; and he was not a little astonish- ed that the Editor of the Literary Gazette should have allowed himself coolly to ob- serve, in the face of a sensible and sober- minded nation like the English, that truth SECOND EDITION. V or falsehood ought in a work like this to be subservient to amusement. " We consider it bad taste *," he says, " in the Editor of these Memoirs to bore us so much with his * truth of history,' or, in other words, with disquisitions hostile to the principal personage on his canvass. We agree with those who are of opinion, that editors ought rather to love than have an aversion to the subjects which they choose to bring- before the public : allowances may be made for the partialities of friendship and ad- miration ; but it is as indefensible as irk- some, to find the enemies of Pope or Pretender taking upon them to give new editions of their poems or adventures, and carping and condemning all the way they go ; as if convincing us per force of the bard's weakness would give a relish to his productions ; or persuading us that the poor Prince was a coward, would add an interest to his perilous escapes." The Editor is unwilhng to believe that reflec- tion presided over the composition of this passage j for he can hardly persuade himr * Lit. Gaz. 9th Dec, 1820. ■ A 3 VI - ADVERTISEMENT TO THE self that any well constituted mind can confound the principles which ought to guide the writer of history with those which ought to guide the writer of a novel or other work of fiction, or advisedly sub- scribe to so loose an ethical code as that which would lead the editor of a historical memoir, from partiality " to the principal personage his ca onnvass,'' or in order to give " an interest to his perilous escapes," to convey to the public statements which he believes to be in any respect false, without endeavouring to correct them, and thus knowingly to make himself the means of contributing to the maintenance of error and delusion. " It is the business of History to exhibit men as they are." If these are the serious notions of the Editor of the Literary Gazette, the Editor is happy to say, that he has taken his notions of duty from a very different school ; and though, from the frailty of human nature, partialities and friendships will always continue to exercise more or less influence over us, without our being ourselves conscious of it, yet he trusts it never will be adopted as a rule by historians, or editors of historians. SECOND EDITION. Vil that they may knowingly conceal or dis- guise the truth to give an interest to their works, or for any other purpose whatsoever. It is but justice to England to observe, that amidst all the fury of party contention, her writers are as little liable to a charge of intentional deviation from truth as those of any other modern nation. He regrets to say that his native country cannot with justice make the same boast. Something worse than a mere indifference to truth was too frequently found in her writers in former days ; and even the virtues of Hume were not always able to save him from what could hardly be an accidental unfaithfulness to his authorities. But better principles have pre- vailed in latter times ; and the Editor would fain believe that the conductor of the Li- terary Gazette, who, like himself, has the honour of being a native of Scotland, does not seriously long for the period when New Lauders and Bowers the Tweed shall cross over, No countryman living their tricks to discover ; Detection her taper shall quench to a spark, And Scotchman meet Scotchman and cheat in the dark. J. B. London, June, 1821. INTRODUCTION. The character of the RebelHon which broke out m this country in the year 1745 cannot be rightly understood without a knowledge of our domestic history, and of the state of the different parts of the island, from the commencement of the disturbances in the reign of Charles I., down to that period. To the Reformation (itself, no doubt, the fruit of growing knowledge and civiUsation) we are chiefly indebted for the diffusion of the principles of civil as well as religious liberty. Even in countries possessed of certain political privileges, tyrannical principles were generally prevalent previous to that event. The English Constitu- tion, as is well observed by Hume, " had lain in a kind of confusion ;" and the value of the pri- vileges which it conferred on the subjects was so little understood before the time of the Stuarts, that the government of England was generally conceived to be a simple and unmixed monarchy) which possessedpopular assemblies forming "onlv the ornament of the fabric, without being in any X INTRODUCTION. degree essential to its being and existence." It was impossible, however, for men to emancipate themselves from ecclesiastical tyranny, without, in some degree, embracing principles favourable to general freedom ; for the arguments, on which they claimed religious liberty, admitted of an easy and almost unavoidable application to civil rights. This connection was soon perceived by many of the depositaries of power, who resisted innovation in matters of religion, as likely to lead to innovations in other matters. They saw the importance of preserving every link in the chain of tyranny unbroken. It was soon felt, in like manner, by the partisans of the new religious doctrines, that the establishment of their other rights was necessary to the secure enjoyment of their religion. Hence the intimate manner in which the questions of liberty and religion have been generally connected down to a com- paratively recent period ! In all the public dissensions of this country at least, since the Reformation, religion and liberty have always been more or less blended together. In England a tyrannical sovereign early em- braced so much of the Reformation as he thought favourable to his purposes, and arbitrarily mo- delled the church in such a manner, as to derive from the changes a great accession of power. The reformed church of England retained all, or nearly all the principles of the Catholic church favourable to arbitrary power ; and the king iiaving made himself its supreme head, Fontifeœ INTRODUCTION. XI mcLvtmuSf all the influence of the ecclesiastical body was thrown into the regal scale. The permis- sion to marry, which the clergy of all the Pro- testant churches have obtained, added greatly to the influence of the English monarch ; for the natural wish to provide for an offspring, ne- cessarily rendered the clergy more ambitious of wealth and preferment, and consequently more subservient to those who had that wealth and preferment at their disposal, than they would have been in a state of celibacy. Hence, now that the principles of toleration prevail in most countries j that persecution on accountof religion is almost unknown ; that the laity have escaped in several great Catholic states from the in- fluence of the clegry ; that religious reform has ceased to be an object of primary importance in most parts of Europe ; and that the attention of men is almost solely directed to political re- form, — the Catholics, who are friendly to liberty as well as Protestants, rejoice at nothing so much, in the present contests for freedom, as that they have not to struggle against such an additional influence as their governments would have derived from an ecclesiastical reform ef- fected on the principles of that of the church of England. The Reformation, so effected by the monarch in England, did not satisfy a number of those who had embraced the reformed doctrines. These dissentients, from their wish to purge the church from many of the Catholic doctrines and XU INTRODUCTION. usages still retained, as well as from the greater austerity and strictness of their lives, received the appellation of Puritans. The party of the Puritans again split in the course of time into a number of subdivisions, diifering, more or less, from each other in their reHgious dogmas, and their notions of church- government, but all of them differing radically from the church of England, and agreeing to- gether in their hatred of the dominion of that church. In Scotland, the government all along opposed the progress of the Reformation. The govern- ment of England had contrived to throw the weight of the Reformation into the scale of power, and skilfully availed itself of a current which it could not have easily stemmed ; but the government of Scotland, more honestperhaps, though less enlightened than that of England, resisted the temptation which the plunder of the church held out *, obstinately clung to the old Catholic system, and cruelly persecuted all who favoured the new opinions. The new opi- nions, however, prevailed in spite of the govern- ment 5 but as the Reformation of Scotland was effected in oposition to power, it was not a royal, but a popular Reformation, and its principles • " For no man living shall I stain mine honour for any worldly good," said James V. to Sir Ralph Saddler, who pointed out to this needy sovereign, by command of Henry VIII., the wealth which he might derive from the church. INTRODUCTION. Xlll were accordingly more favourable to civil and ecclesiastical liberty. The Reformation in Scotland was, however, confined to that part of the country in which the English, or a kindred language to the English, is spoken. The people of the Lowlands of Scotland, though then in a much more rude state than the people of England, were by no means strangers to arts and civilisation. But the Highlands (a part of Scotland amounting nearly to one-half in point of extent, though it does not contain above one-eighth of the population,) are inhabited by a different race of men, by whom a branch of the Celtic language is spoken ; and this difference of language, the peculiar state of society on which civilisation had hardly dawned, and the wild and rugged nature of the country, opposed formidable obstacles to the introduction and progress of the Reformation. When the great struggle between the house of Stuart and the people commenced in England, *' the devotees of presbytery became, of course, zealous partisans of the parliament ; the friends of the episcopal church valued themselves on defending the rights of the monarchy."* The first and most decisive blow in the island may be said, however, to have been struck by the Scots. The Presbyterian system had been estab- lished in Scotland; and the people were there almost universally attached to it. The first * Hume. XIV INTRODUCTION. James on his accession to the English throne liad immediately begun to attempt the gradual estab- lishment in Scotland of the maxims, discipline, and worship of the English church, " with w^hich,'* says Hume, " as a Prince he had so great reason to be satisfied." His son pursued the same course with equal zeal but less address, and exasperated the Scots beyond measure. An attempt to estab- lish in Scotland the Liturgy of the church of England, termed by the Covenanters in their manifesto, *' the fountain whence all these Ba- bylonish streams issue unto us," led at last to open resistance of the royal authority. The famous covenant, or bond of union, to resist all religious innovations, w^as subscribed by all ranks and conditions, all ages and sexes. " The whole kingdom was, in a manner, engaged *j" forces were regularly inlisted and disciplined, and an army of 26,000 men w^as soon assembled. Charles I. dispatched a formidable fleet, with 5000 troops on board, to the Frith of Forth, and entered Scotland himself, with an army of 20,000 foot and 3000 horse ; but, deterred by the force of the Covenanters, and the dread of losing a battle while Scotland was enraged and England discontented, he concluded a sudden, and to him disgraceful pacification, by which, with- out effecting any thing, he agreed to withdraw his fleet and army. Presbytery was, of course, triumphant. This hollow peace was soon, however, broken by the King ; and the Scots * Hume. INTRODUCTION. XV advanced into England, defeated the detachment sent to oppose them by Charles, and by their presence in that country enabled the parliament to take a high ground, and successfully to resist the King, which, from the greater strength ol' the crown in England than in Scotland, where its power was always very low, they might not otherwise have been enabled to do. However, while the army of the Covenanting Lowlanders was in England, the famous Marquis of Montrose secretly entered Scotland, put him- self at the head of a small body of Irish, who had landed in tliat country, and raised the royal standard, which was immediately joined by the Highlanders. With these means he gained a succession of brilliant victories, which threatened for a time to turn the balance on the side of Charles. As this is the period when the High- landers first became of consequence in a military point of view, and as they have acted such an important part in all the subsequent eftbrts in favour of the house of Stuart, it may be here necessary to advert shortly to the state of that people, the nature of their country, and the cir- cumstances which then gave them that con- sequeiTce. The Scottish Highlanders occupy the exten- sive mountainous tract, which, divided by an imaginary line, drawn fi'om Dumbarton, in- cludes both sides of Loch Lomond, and the higher and more mountainous parts of Stirling and Perthshires, Angus, Mearns, and Aber- deenshire. Beyond this line all the people speak XVI INTRODUCTION. Gaelic, and wear or did wear the Highland dress. The Western Islands are comprehended within this wild and extensive territory, which includes upwards of 200 parishes, and a population of about 200,000 souls. The country, though in many cases so wild and savage as to be almost uninhabitable, con- tains, on the sea-coasts, on the sides of the lakes, in the vales of the small streams, and in the more extensive straths through which large rivers discharge themselves, much arable ground ; and the mountains, which surround these favoured spots, afford ample pasture walks, and great abundance of game. These glens or valleys were each the domain of a separate tribe, who lived for eacli other, laboured in common, mar- ried usually within the clan ; and, the passage from one vale to another being dangerous in most seasons, and toilsome in all, had very little communication with the world beyond their own range of mountains. This circumstance, says the author of an able article in the 28th Number of the Quarterly Review, (generally attributed to Sir Walter Scott,) which, in this brief account of the Highlands, we have chiefly followed, " doubtless tended to prolong among these separate tribes a species of government, the first that is known in the infancy of society, and which, in most instances, is altered or modified during an early period of its progress." * The * We are rather inclined to suppose that the perpetual wars with England, and the anarchical state of Scotland, are INTRODUCTION. XVll obedience of the Highlander was paid to the chief of his clan, as representing some remote ancestor, from whom it was siij)posed the whole tribe was originally descended; and whose name, compounded into a patronymic, was the dis- tinguishing appellation of the sept. Each clan, acting on this principle, bore to its chief all the zeal, all the affectionate deference, all the blind the principal causes of the long continuance of this system. Had not the kings of Scotland been almost incessantly en- gaged in wars with England, or with their own barons, they would soon have reduced the Highlands, and established the authority of the laws there. The sword, as Dr. Smith observes, is often a most efficacious instrument of civilis- ation ; and it has been also well observed by Fletcher of Saltoun, " 'Tis in vain to say, that whatever people are planted in these mountains, they will quickly turn as savage and as great beggars as the present inhabitants ; for the mountains of the Alps are greater, more desert, and more condemned to snows than those of the Highlands, which are every where cut by friths and lakes, the richest in fishing of any in the world, affording great conveniences for transport- ation of timber and any other goods ; and yet the Alps, which have no such advantages, are inhabited every where by a civilised, industrious, honest, and peaceable people." The plan of civilisation recommended by Fletcher, would certainly have been most efficacious, but it is not remark- able for its humanity. " It were to be wished," he says, " that the government would think fit to transplant that handful of people, and their masters, who have always dis- turbed our peace, into the low-country, and people the Highlands from hence." The extinction of the rebellion of 1745, which first subjected the Highlands to the dominion of the law, was soon followed by a beneficial change in the manners of the Highlanders. a XVlil INTRODUCTION. devotion of children to a father. Their obedi^ ence was grounded on the same law of nature ; and a breach of it was regarded as equally heinous. The clansman who scrupled to save his chief's life at the expense of his own, was regarded as a coward, who fled from his father's side in the hour of peril. Upon this principle rests the whole doctrine of clanship ; and, al- though the authority of the chief sometimes assumed a more legal aspect, as the general law of the country then stood, by his being possessed of feudal influence or territorial jurisdiction j yet, with his clan, no feudal rights or magis- terial authority could enhance or render more ample that power which he possessed, Jure san- guinis^ by the right of primogeniture. The duty of the clansman was indelible ; and no feudal grant which he might acquire, or other engagement whatsoever, was to be preferred to his service to the chief. Such was the very simple theory of clan-government. In practice, it extended further. Each clan was divided into three orders : the head of all was the chief, who was usually, though not uniformly, the pro- prietor of all, or the greatest part of, the terri- tories of the clan ; not, it must be supposed, in absolute property, but as the head and grand steward of the community. He administered them, however, in all respects at his own will and pleasure. A certain portion of the best of the land he retained as his own appanage, and it was cultivated for his sole profit. The rest 18 LVTRODUCTION. XI \- was divided by grants, of a nature more or less temporary, among the second class of the clan, who are called tenants^ tacksmeîi, or goodmeri. These were the near relations of the chief, or were descended from those who bore such near relation to some of his ancestors. To each of these brothers, nephews, cousins, and so forth, the chief assigned a portion of land, either during pleasure, or frequently in the form of a pledge redeemable for a certain sum of money. These small portions of land, assisted by the liberality of their relations, the tacksmen contrived to stock, and on these they subsisted, until, in a generation or two, the lands were resumed for portioning out some nearer relative, and the descendants of the original tacksmen sunk into the situation of commoners. This was such an ordinary transition that the third class, consist- ing of the common people, was strengthened in the principle on which their clannish obedience depended, namely, the belief in their original connection with the genealogy of the chief, since each generation saw a certain number of families merge among the commoners, whom their flithers had ranked among the tacksmen or nobility of the clan. This change, though fre- quent, did not uniformly take place. In the case of a very powerful chief, or of one who had an especial affection for a son or brother, a por- tion of land was assigned to a cadet in perpe- tuity, or he was perhaps settled in an appanage conquered from some other clan, or the tacks- a 2 XX INTRODUCTION. man acquired wealth and property by marriag'e, or by some exertion of his own. In all these cases he kept his rank in society, and usually had under his government a branch or subdivi- sion of the tribe, who looked up to him, as their immediate leader, and whom he governed with the same authority, and in the same manner, in all respects, as the chief who was patriarchal head of the whole sept. Such head of a subor- dinate branch of a clan was called a Chieftain, (a word of distinct and limited meaning,) but remained dependent and usually tributary to the chief y and bound to support, follow, and obey him, in all lawful and unlawful service. Each tacksman leased out his portion of the clan territory in small portions, and for moderate rents, to the commoners of the clan, or furnished them with stock and seed-corn, on condition of receiving a moiety of the profits ; and, in either case, the dependence of the cottager or com- moner on the tacksman was as absolute as that of the tacksman upon the chiefi and the general opinion inculcated upon all, was implicit duty to their patriarchal head and his constituted authorities. Under this system, the population rapidly increased. Limited to its own valleyj every clan increased in numbers, in a degree far beyond the means of subsisting them. Each little farm was, by the tenant who cultivated it, divided and sub-divided among his children and grand- children, until the number of human beings to INTRODUCTION. XXl be maintained far exceeded that for whom, by any mode of culture, the space of ground could afford nourishment. The consequence of this over-population, in any case, must have been laziness ; because where there were so many hands for such light work, none would work hard, and those who could set up the slightest ground of exemption would not work at all. This was particularly the case with the tacksmen's^ youngest sons ; a race destined to sink into the insignificance of commoners, unless they could keep themselves afloat by some deed of distinc- tion. They naturally associated to themselves the stoutest and most active of the youthful commoners, all of whom reckoned their pedigree up to that of their chief, and therefore were entitled to disdain " the shepherd's slothful life." Under such leaders they often committed creaghs or depredations on the Lowlands, or on hostile clans, and sometimes constituted themselves into regular bands of robbers, whom the chief connived at, though he dared not to avow their depredations ; and whom, on the other hand, he conscientiously protected against the law as far as he safely could. A military spirit, and contempt of labour, distin- guished even the very lowest of the commoners. " The half of our country, in point of extent," says Fletcher of Saltoun, ** is possessed by a people who are all gentlemen, only because they will not work ; and who, in every thing, are more contemptible than the vilest slaves, except a 3 XXU INTRODUCTION. that they always carry arms, because for the most part they live on robbery." The different clans, living thus in a perpetual state of war with the Low-country, and with each other, no man, without people ready to defend him, could expect to sleep in safety ; and as the consequence of every one depended on the number and attachment of his depend- ents, every consideration became of minor importance compared with that of military strength. In former times, the Highland chiefs paid allegiance to princes of their own, altogether distinct from the king of Scotland, with whom they were sometimes at war, sometimes at peace ; or at most acknowledged only a slight and nominal dependence upon him. This was the powerful dynasty of the Lords of the Isles, who flourished from a dark and remote period down to the reign of James V., and whose sway ex- tended over the bulk of the Highlands. It was not until the battle of the Harlaw, fought in 1410, that this insular kingdom could be con- sidered as an actual dependancy of the Scottish crown. The union of the crowns of Scotland and England gave rise to the superiority in the Use of arms, possessed by the Highlanders over their Lowland fellow-subjects. In former times, when the Highlanders descended from their mountains, they encountered in the Lowlands a race of men as hardy, brave, and skilful in the use of weapons, INTRODUCTION. XXlll as themselves, possessed of much greater inge^ nuity, and far superior to them in arms and miUtary discipHne. In the battle of Harlaw, Donald of the Isles, with the largest army that ever left the Highlands, was checked by an inferior number of Lowlanders ; and in the fields of Corichie, Glenlivat, and others, the Highlanders were routed with great loss, by fewer, but better appointed numbers, of their Lowland countrymen. In the battle fought near Bannockburn, in 1488, between James tHe Third, supported by the northern chieftains, and the barons of the south, *' the tumultuous ranks of the Highlanders," says Sir W. Scott, in his Introduction to the Border Minstrelsy, <* were ill able to endure the steady and rapid charge of the men of Annandale and Liddisdale, who bore spears two ells longer than were used by the rest of their countrymen." But the lapse of more than half a century, during which the people of both borders had remained quiet under the protection of the laws, neither doing nor suffering violence, had deprived them of mucli of their martial spirit. The Highlanders, again, were not only bred to arms and active exercises from their infancy, but were, in a manner, regimented under their several chiefs and tacksmen, and, being always in order for war, wanted only a general and a cause. When the civil wars broke out, many of the Highlanders might be said to be strangers a 4 XXIV INTRODUCTION. to any kind of religion whatever.* How- ever, those who were not in this predicament, were almost all either catholics or bigoted to the prelatic establishment, and unacquainted with any other principles of government than those of unconditional obedience ; and the chiefs and people therefore naturally embraced the cause of Charles, which to them must have appeared the cause of justice and right. After achieving, with the Highlanders, a number of brilliant victories, over greatly superior numbers of undisciplined Lowlanders, Montrose was at last totally defeated by a body of regular forces, under the command of the famous David Lesley. The victories of the Highlanders, under Montrose, were, however, soon followed by a chastisement within their own fastnesses from Cromwell, such as their own monarchs had never been sufficiently powerful to inflict on them. Cromwell established garrisons at Inver- ness, Inverlochy, and other places in the High- lands ; — he set on foot moveable columns, who constantly patroled the country, and became acquainted with its most hidden recesses ; — he destroyed the castles of the chiefs, and com- pelled them to surrender their arms, and to give * In letters from the English army in the Highlands, incorporated in Whitelock, the people are said to be " simple and ignorant in the things of God, and some of them brutish as heathens." Some of them, however, " did hear the Eng- lish preachers with great attention and groaning" INTRODUCTION. XXV pledges for their peaceful conduct. * The civilis- ation of the Highlands must have soon followed the continuance of this system. In 1646, the presbyterian form of church government was established all over England j and the union between the throne and the church was now, therefore, annihilated through- out both kingdoms. The Restoration, in 1660, restored also pre- lacy. All the royalists were naturally zealous for that mode of religion ; and in England, a House of Commons, of which the majority were attached to presbytery, both as agreeing with their religious opinions, and as being more favour- able to liberty than to royal power, was obliged, from the prevailing spirit in the country, to consent to the re-establishment of the episcopal church, through fear of again involving the na- tion in blood. In Scotland, the laws in favour of presbytery were repealed, and the resolution to restore prelacy was adopted. In England, the royalists and zealous church- men were decidedly the popular party ; and, in the first parliament summoned after the Restor- ation in 1661, only fifty-six members of the * Such an awe had been struck into the Highlanders, that about 1500 of them having assembled at a pass, where they stood upon rocks and inaccessible ground, and where the English could only advance one by one, though they " stood every way prepared to take their advantages upon them, (the English,) they yet had not the power or spirits to do it." XXVI INTRODUCTION. Presbyterian party obtained seats in the lower house. But in Scotland the body of the nation en- tertained the most insurmountable aversion to episcopacy. The most tyrannical measures were adopted to conqner the repugnance of the people, which only served the more to increase it. The cruelties to which the presbyterians were exposed under Charles the Second and his successor James, are almost unparalleled in the annals of persecution. The party in power endeavoured to goad them on to insurrection, that they might have a pretext for t]ie strongest measures. Hunted from hill to hill by "an army composed," says Fletcher, " for the most part of barbarous Highlanders," the presby- terians naturally became desperate, and adopted the most desperate principles ; and, at last, they openly disclaimed allegiance to any monarch who should not profess presbytery. They were defeated at the battle of Pentland Hills, on the ^8th of November, 1666, and the government now obtained the pretext for outrages of which it was desirous. The consequence was increased animosity on the part of the people. The militia and standing army soon became unequal to the task of enforcing conformity ; and 6000 of the Highlanders, who, for the services they had rendered to the reigning family, had again established their exemption from the general law of the land, were invited from their moun- tains to pillage the south-west oi' .Scotland ; a INTRODUCTION. XXVII task which they performed with the rapacity of" an indigent people, and no doubt with consider- able cruelty ; though, it has been said, with less than had been expected from them by their em- ployers. In 1679, the presbyterians burned the acts of parliament in favour of prelacy, on the anniversary of the Restoration, and encamped on Loudon Hill, where they were attacked on the 1st of June, by Graham of Claverhouse, af- terwards Lord Dundee. The honour of the day remained to the insurgents ; but almost imme- diately afterwards they were routed at Bothwell Bridge. Events in England afforded that relief to the presbyterians of Scotland for which they had in vain appealed to arms. When James the Se- cond succeeded to the throne, the current of public favour ran so strong for the court, that, according to Lord Lonsdale, he might easily have made himself absolute. But James was the most unskilful of all tyrants. By the open and undisguised manner in which he went to work, he frightened those who, with a little address, would have cordially supported his views. He paid no regard to the opinions or prejudices of either friends or foes. His tyran- nical measures roused all the friends of liberty, and his undisguised attempt to introduce the Roman Catholic religion, and the indignity offered by him to the English bishops, deprived him of the affections of the church, of which he was the legal head, and by which, in almost any XXVIU INTRODUCTION. other case, he would have been supported. *' The Whigs," says Hume, " suitable to their ancient principles of liberty, easily agreed to oppose a king whose conduct had verified what- ever his worst enemies had prognosticated of his succession ; the Tories, and the church- party, finding their past-services forgotten, their rights invaded, their religion threatened^ agreed to drop, for the present, all overstrained doc- trines of submission, and attend to the great and powerful dictates of nature ; the non-con- formists, dreading the caresses of known and in- veterate enemies, deemed the offers of toleration more secure from a prince educated in these principles, and accustomed to that practice : and thus rival parties, forgetting their animosity, secretly concurred in a design of opposing their unhappy and misguided sovereign." Such, however, is the power of government in a coun- try considerably advanced in civilization, and possessed of such a degree of wealth as then be- longed to England, which men are naturally afraid of risking, that, though all parties were for the time united against James, and the Prince of Orange landed with a well-appointed army of upwards of 14,000 men, nobody for several days joined that prince. In Scotland, the Revolution necessarily led to the establishment of presbytery. The people anticipated the determination of the legislature, and forcibly drove the episcopal clergymen from their churches. Again, however, the High- INTRODUCTION. XXIX landers espoused the cause of the Stuarts, and, at KilUecranky, about 3000, under Lord Dun- dee, defeated a force of regulars of 4500 foot, and two troops of horse, under General Mackay. But in the battle Dundee fell, and his successors, being men of no ability, the war on their part dwindled down into a succession of inroads, and skirmishes, in which the Low-country was se- verely plundered by the Highlanders. King William deemed it advisable to purchase the peace of the Highlanders, and gave 20,000/. to the Earl of Breadalbane, to be distributed among the- chiefs ; a measure which only tended to heighten their idea of their own consequence ; to make them regard military strength as the road to wealth and importance ; to retard the advance of civilization, and to induce them to augment the number of their followers by every possible means. In England, the Tories and the High-Church- men, after the danger which induced them to coalesce with the Whigs was over, soon began to be ashamed of the victory which had been gained; and though, perhaps, generally deter- mined to oppose the King's return, they were averse to the dethroning him, or altering the line of succession, and proposed the expedient of a regent with kingly power. In the house of lords the question for a king was carried by only two votes. Though circumstances had given an ascendancy to the Whigs in the house of commons, the greatest part of the aristocracy of XXX INTRODUCTION'. the country, and perhaps of the people, were still Churchmen and Tories. Defoe, himself a dissenter, in his Review of the 10th October, 1706, says, '* that, put all the dissenters in England and presbyterians in Scotland into a list, and tliey make not above one to nine of the church of England members in Britain ;'* and it must always be borne in mind, that though all the Whigs were not dissenters, yet the dissenters always constituted the main strength of the Whigs, The Union in I7O7 was brought about by the distribution of a sum of money among the Scots aristocracy, (of which distribution an authentic account has fortunately been preserved,) greatly dscainst the wishes of the Scottish nation in general. The different religious and political parties forgot for a time their animosities to- wards each other, in their common hatred of that ■measure. The Presbyterian clergymen even lost much of their interest with their flocks, from an idea that, having once secured their kirk, they were indifferent to their country and its liberties ; and the most violent of that party were almost disposed to waive their objection to the religion of King James, for the sake of get- ting rid of the union ; *' for," said they, "God may convert him, or he may have Protestant children ; but the union never can be good." It is certain that the Cameronians had nearly formed a league with the Jacobites at that time. INTRODUCTION^. XXXI " A Tory," said Hume, in a volume of bis Essays, first published in , 1742, " may be de- fined, in a few words, to be a lover of monarchy, though without abandoning liberty, and a 'par- tisan of the family of Stuart ; as a Whig may be defined to be a lover of liberty, though without renouncing monarchy, and a friend to the settle- ment in the Protestant line. A Jacobite seems to be a Tory who has no regard to the con- stitution, but is either a zealous partizan of absolute monarchy, or at least willing to sacrifice our liberties to the obtaining the succession m that family to which he is attached." In England the people might be divided into Whigs, Tories, and Jacobites ; though the two last were closely allied to each other. In Scotland, there were only two parties. All the Presbyterians, the great body of the people, were Whigs ; and as the episcopalians had no worldly motive for dissembling their sentiments, having been dis- possessed at the Revolution, they were all non- jurors, and open and avowed Jacobites. The Tories got into power in the latter part of the reign of Queen Anne, and the restoration of the Stuarts was projected by their ministry. The violent dissensions, however, which, in the language of Dr. Johnson, shattered that ministry, and the sudden death of Queen Anne, gave the throne to tiie House of Hanover, and the as- cendancy to the Whigs. A faint attempt was made in favour of the House of Stuart, in the north of England j but XXXU INTRODUCTION. when the Earl of Mar raised the standard of tlie ChevaUer St. George, almost all the Highland chiefs of name and eminence assembled their forces at Perth ; and he was at the head of the greatest body of Highlanders which ever was brought together. Mar, however, was not fitted to lead an army ; and suffered himself to be pent up within the Friths of Forth and Clyde, by the Duke of Argyle, at the head of a force not exceeding two or three thousand men. The battle of Sheriffmoor was indecisive. The right wing of the Highlanders was successful, and their left completely routed. Both parties re- treated, the Highlanders to Perth, and the Duke of Argyle to Stirling. A Montrose, a Dundee, or Lord George Murray, with the same means, would have soon become masters of Scotland, and (with the assistance of the English Tories, who only waited the approach of a Highland army to declare themselves) could hardly have then failed to get possession of England ; but fortunately for the country. Mar was far from being either a Montrose, a Dundee, or a Murray, and the rebellion was speedily suppressed. ■^ In 1719, a plan of invasion and insurrection in favour of the Stuarts was formed by Spain. A / fleet of ten ships of the line, with several frigates, I having on board 6000 troops, and 12,000 stand of arms, sailed from Cadiz for England ; and while this fleet was preparing, the Earl Mare- schal left St. Sebastian with two Spanish frigates, having on board 300 Spanish soldiers, am muni- INTRODUCTION. XXXlll tion, arms, and money, and landed in the island of Lewis. The Spanish fleet was completely dispersed by a violent storm off Cape Finisterre, and as every thing remained quiet in England, very few Highlanders rose. General Wightman came up with the Spanish and Highland force at Glenshiel ; the Highlanders^ favoured by the ground, withdrew to the hills without having suffered much ; and the Spaniards laid down their arms and were made prisoners. The state of the Highlands naturally attracted the attention of the British parliament ; but its measures were imperfectly carried into execution. A general disarming act was passed ; but while the provisions of this act were obeyed by the clans in the interest of government, they were eluded by the greater, and by far the more warlike part of the Highlanders, who remained attached to the family of Stuart. The act had every where been ostensibly carried into exe- cution ; but the disaffected chieftains contrived to retain the weapons of their immediate clans- men, and only delivered up arms of little or no use, which they collected from an inferior de- scription of individuals, of whom each important elan had a number attached to them as a sort of helots. The disarming act, therefore, from the manner in which it was executed, only served to deprive the government of the assistance which it might have derived, on any sudden emergency from the Duke of Argyle, and some other chiefs who were attached to the house of Hanover. b XXXIV ÎXTRODUCTION. A declaration of war with France or Spain, which required the service of these troops abroad, was always a signal to the Highland clans for a rebellion at home. The death of the Emperor Charles VI., in 174*0, gave rise to a general war in Europe. The French ministry, in order to furnish em- ployment to the British government at home, concerted a plan of invasion in favour of the Pretender. In the beginning of 1744-, transports were collected at Dunkirk, for an army of 15,000 men under the command of Marshall Saxe, who, with Prince Charles Edward, the Pretender's son, arrived at that place on the 23d of February ; but while the embarkation of the troops was going on, a storm arose, which wrecked a num- ber of transports, whereby many soldiers and seamen, and a great quantity of warlike stores, were lost, and an end, for that time, was put to the invasion. Had this expedition reached the shores of Britain, the whole of the disaffected clans, who were able to bring to the field 12,000 men, were prepared to rise. The chiefs were all then united, which for various reasons they were not when the Rebellion actually took place. Impatient at the delays of the court of France in seconding his views, the young Pretender proposed to repair to Scotland, even without assistance, contrary to the wishes of his Jacobite friends in that country, who, with the exception of the Duke of Perth, all declared themselves ajiainst such a design. The battle of Fontenoy, INTRODUCTION. XXXV however, in which the British troops were cut to pieces, on the 11th of May, 1745, determined Prince Charles to try what he could do in a country where he knew he had many friends, and no formidable enemies but the regular troops, few of which were then in the island. He embarked soon after, and landed in the West Highlands, accompanied only by a few attendants. In the Low-country of Scotland, the great body of the people were either presbyterians of the established church, or seceders from that church of still more rigid presbyterian principles. These were all staunch adherents of the Han- over family. A considerable number of the no- bility and gentry, and a few of the middle classes, were of the episcopal persuasion ; and the episcopalians, as has been already stated, were either open or concealed Jacobites. The strong feeling of discontent, which had nearly produced an unnatural alliance between the presbyterians and Jacobites, at the time of the Union, was now infinitely less powerful with the former, than their hatred of the house of Stuart, and their attachment to the house of Hanover. The state of England at that time is a sub- ject of greater difficulty. In that country the different parties were not so sharply separated from each other as in Scotland, in which all who were not Whigs were Jacobites, and all were Jacobites who were not Presbyterians. In England all the dissenters were Whigs and b ^ XXXVI INTRODUCTION'. Hanoverians ; but there is always a considerable body in it, undecided in their principles, and governed by circumstances ; and all who were not Whiffs and dissenters could not therefore be called Jacobites. It is certain, however, from the archives of the Stuart family, now in the King's library, that a' very great proportion of the English aris- tocracy were Jacobites. The Tories, though not all Jacobites, had all a leaning towards the Stuart family j and we must never forget that the Tories formed the bulk of the nation : for it has been truly observed by Mr. Burke, that the Whigs have never formed any considerable part of the strength of England ; that the dis- senters were the chief support of that party ; and that they owe to circumstances alone, whatever influence they may have at any time possessed. As the administration had then been thirty years in the hands of the Whigs, they of course possessed a number of adherents in the upper and middle ranks of life, and among the higher established clergy. But though, from the con- stitution of the English church, it is naturally the ally of the state, and its tenet of passive obe- dience, independently of interest, leads it to support the government, a very suspicious cir- cumstance respecting it was shrewdly noticed by Hume, namely, that almosPall its lower clergy then sided with the opposition. He very naturally infer- red from this, " that some bias still hung upon our INTRODUCTION. XXXVU constitution, some extrinsic weight, which turned it from its natural course." We were indebted for the two extraordinary phenomena of a Whig king and an opposition cliurch to the existence of the deposed family of Stuart ; and the ex- tinction of a Pretender to the throne will pro- bably for ever prevent their recurrence. Such was the state of tlie country, and its re- lations, at the time Prince Charles Edward landed in the West Highlands. In a few days he was joined by several chief- tains, with from 1800 to 2000 men; and witii this force he advanced towards the Low-country. Sir John Cope, the commander-in-chief of Scot- land, advanced into the Highlands, with what troops he could collect together, about 1400 foot, with some artillery ; but on receiving notice that the rebels were waiting his approach in the passes of a high mountain, which it was neces- sary for him to cross, he thought proper to turn aside, and left the road to the Low-country open to them. In two days after crossing the Forth, they became masters of the metropolis of Scot- land. Cope sailed from Aberdeen to Dunbar, and having formed a junction with the rest of the King's forces, he advanced against the Prince, but was completely routed at Preston Pans, or Gladsmuir. Being now between 5000 and 6000 strong, though the Highland clans, which formed the only part of their force, where- on any great dépendance could be placed, did XXXVlll ]N TKODI.CTION. not exceed 4000 *, they advanced into England, took Carlisle, before which they remained a suf- ficient time to allow Marshal Wade, who lay at Newcastle with a superior force, to come up with them, and proceeded without interruption to Derby, having gained a march on the Duke of Cumberland, who was at the head of another superior army in the centie of the kingdom. Deceived in their expectations of being joined by the English Jacobites, justly alarmed at the disproportion between their force, and the force and population of the country into which they had advanced so far, and having received intel- ligence of the arrival of troops and arms from France, they determined to fall back on their sup- plies in a council of war held at Derby ; and with one army on their flank and another in their rear, they effected their retreat without loss into Scotland, there formed a junction of their forces, again defeated the King's army, then retired * In a letter from Loi'd President Forbes to Mr. Scrope, dated 14th Nov. 1745, published in the CuUoden Papers, he says, " For of those kindreds of the Highlanders who in the year 1715 were at Perth, there are now in this country partly assisting me, and partly detained at home by persuasion or force, a greater number than the number of real Highland- ers who have from Edinburgh marched towards England. I do not speak of the whole of what they call their army, which is composed of Low-country people, who must prove rather a drawback than any assistance to them; but I speak of the natives of the mountains, who, by the celerity of their marches, and by their capaci*^i' to bear fatigues, may be ac- counted dangerous eneuiies." INTllODUCTIOX. XXXIX into the Highlands, where, after achieving a number of daring exploits in the course of the winter and spring, they were ultimately defeated at Culloden. Nothing appears more surprizing, at first sight, than that so small a force should have bid defiance for more than half a year to the power- ful government of Great Britain. The politician may derive some important lessons from the attentive consideration of what took place at that time. That a very great proportion of the aristocracy of the country was jacobitically disposed, is proved by the evidence of their own hand- writings. The prevalence of similar feelings in the other classes of England, or at least of in- difference, (in Scotland it was otherwise,) is proved by the manner in which the approach of the Highlanders was viewed. " We are such uncommon people,*' (at Cambridge,) says Gray in a letter to Horace Walpole, " as to have no more sense of danger than if the battle had been fought where and when the battle of Cannae was. I heard three sensible middle-aged men, when the Scotch were said to be at Stamford, and actually were at Derby, talking of hiring a chaise to go to Caxton, (a place in the high road,) to see the Pretender and Highlanders as they passed." But the English aristocracy, though they would willingly have joined the Pretender, if they had seen that he could support himself b é Xl IN TK'JDrcrJOX. without them, resoived not to stir one step so long as this point remained doubtful. King William was only joined in 1688, w^lien he had sliown that he could make good his ground with- out support. The Jacobites would have cheer- fully paid their homage to the family of Stuart, if once seated on the throne, but would risk nothing to contribute to place them on it. From this we may see the immense strength of government, in relation to its own subjects, in a country considerably advanced in civilis- ation, and in which wealth is widely diflused. The dread of losing that wealth by unsuc- cessful resistance will generally command their submission, though the government may not only have little of their regard, but may even be an object of dislike to them. Nothing but the most flagrant misgovern ment, something which unites all classes against liie state, and renders them, in the apprehension of a greater danger, insensible to the danger to which re- sistance exposes them, can ever overturn a government in such a country. But in propor- tion to the strength of the government, in re- lation to its own subjects, is its weakness wheu attacked from without. The moment the in- vader appears to be the strongest, he commands the obedience of all those who have any thing to lose. " I do not care," said an English gen- tleman to the author of the following Memoirs, " though the devil were king, if he do not take jiiy estate. from me." Hence, in countries like INTItODUCTIOX. .XU England or Holland, or even a great part of Germany, that obstinate and protracted resist- ance to a government, supported by a powerful army, which was lately displayed by the Spa- niards, could never possibly take place. * Hence, * My friend, Mr. Hogg, — for whose political principles the best apology that can be offered is, that like too many poets he has probably adopted them without much reflec- tion, and less from any conviction of their soundness than from their supposed suitableness for poetical eifect, and who has been much more successful in observing and de- scribing actions than in tracing the motives of action, — is struck with the feature in the character of the people of England to which we have just alluded. In the Jacobite Relics, vol. ii. p. 116., he says, " It was during this period (namely the period between the Revolution and the accession of the house of Hanover) that a great part of the songs con- tained in the preceding volume had been written and sung, apparently with the view of influencing the popular feeling ; and in England these lampoons were innumerable, as well as the violence of opposition to the reigning dynasties. Never- theless, it was mostly all in words, as the great threats of Englishmen generally are. When matters came to the test, it was again and again proved, whose promises were most to be relied on." It does not seem to have ocurred to Mr. Hogg, in his zeal for club law, that the power of offering resistance to a government varies with the circumstances of a people, and that the more a people enjoys of the objects for which government is instituted, the greater the diffi- culty of resistance. The people of Hindostan, under their native rulers, would perhaps come up to his ideal of na- tional excellence ; for without any promise they are almost always ready, at a moment's warning, to rise against these rulers. But to take instances with which we are more familiar : — Mr. Hogg would probably find it a much easier task, at any time, to persuade the wretched tenant of a clay cabin in Comiaught to make an appeal to arms-, xlii INTliODUCTlOX. too, for the same reason that the richest nations are the most easily held in subjection, the richest part of any one nation is naturally the most submissive ; and it was found, in Spain as well as in England, that the aristocracy are always the first to truckle to power and the last to resist it. The whole of their patriotism, in difficult times, is usually confined to studying how they shall best retain possession of their estates. than the substantial farmer of East Lothian and the Merse, or the rich store-master of Etterick Forest. He will find his countrymen, in the present day, more ready to imitate the Englishman in limiting their opposition to big tuords, than to take to the bare bent for a bed. Cromwell complained of the ruin of his soldiery, " for whom the Scots are too hard in respect of enduring the winter's difficulty ;" but these times are gone by. Wealth and luxury have in their turn visited Scotland ; and the Scotsman having been used to a good dinner, comfortable fire-side, and a soft bed, can no more forego these advantages than the Englishman can. He now knows as much the value of the good things of this world, and is as mucb attached to them. Life-and-fortune addresses mean pretty much the same thing in both parts of the island, — not that the subscribers are ready to sacrifice either, but that they consider neither in any danger. It would almost seem as if Mr. Hogg thought a readiness to rise as inse- parable from the character of his countrjonen, as the late Mr. Windham thought their sagacity was from redness of hair. It may be well enough now and then to talk of the irrepressible ardour of Scotsmen, the perfervidum genus Scotorum, and antiquaries may tell us, that while the Eng- lish retain the Germanic phlegm, nearly unmixed, the Scots, who are a compound of Celt and Saxon, have lost a great deal of it. The less politicians rely on doctrines of this kind the better. INTRODUCTION. xliii Tlie tendency of the diffusion of wealtli to give strength and security to government, is very strikingly illustrated in a paper published in the Appendix to Pinkerton's History of Scotland under the Stuarts, exhibiting a view of that country in the sixteenth century. " The defect of the commonalty," says the , writer, *' viz. that there are so few of the middle rank of subjects amongst that are able to live com- petently and honestly of their own, and by that means are a band to tie together the two ex- tremes, viz. the higher sort and the rascallity, and to sway with the better and more peaceable part, as having something to lose, is another great cause of the distemper and disquietness of the realm. For by that means the whole com- monalty in a manner, a few excepted which are of no reckoning in comparison of the whole, being beggarly and rascall, are ever apt for faction and tumult when occasion serveth ; as having nothing to lose, and hoping to get some- thing when they may fish in a troubled sea, and so follow their lord's quarrels either amongst themselves or against the Prince." The influence of the Highland chief, as has been already ob- served, did not arise from his property, so much as from his being supposed to represent the com- mon ancestor from whom the whole clan was descended ; and it is proved by many well- known instances, that when stript of his posses- sions he could still command the obedience of the clansmen. In such a state of things, govern- xliV IN'JRODUCTION. ment were without that powerful hold over him which they possessed over the landholders of the rest of the country. In general, it may be ob- served, that where a great respect is paid to nobility of race, independently of property, the government must be less secure than where such respect is not known. The victory of CuUoden gave a strength to the Hanoverian government which it had never before possessed. The rising had shown them that from the state of society and habits of Eng- land, they had nothing to fear from that country; that however numerous the disaftected party in England might be, a powerful invasion from abroad and the arms of the Highlanders could alone render it formidable ; and now that the power was in their hands, they very wisely determined not leave a single Highland clan in a situation to be again troublesome to them. The English ministers, in the expressive lan- guage of the author of Waverley, would have deserved the gallows as foolSy if they had not embraced that apportunity of destroying clan- ship for ever, and reducing the Highlands to the dominion of the law. The hopes of the Jacobites and Tories were completely dashed. The claims of the family of Stuart began at length to appear obsolete in the eyes of their partisans ; and on the commencement of his late Majesty's reign, the Jacobites were reduced to the members of a few nonjuring congre- INTRODUCTION. \lV gâtions, and that allance was formed between the Tories and the throne which placed both in their natural relations towards each other. The events of the more stormy period, which terminated with the Revolution, a period pro- ductive beyond example of great and splendid talents, have been related by some of the greatest of the actors in them, and reviewed by the most acute and profound, though it has been said not always the most accurate or rigidly impartial of historians. But the history of England, during the comparatively tranquil period which has elapsed since the Revolution, a period, though possessing less of what is calculated to strike the imagination, yet presenting abundant matter of great importance to the politician, remains yet to be written. Many attempts have been made to supply the deficiency ; and the work of Smollet, in particular, has always enjoyed a considerable share of popularity. But Smollet was neither an impartial nor a profound histo- rian ; and, besides, much valuable information re- lative to the transactions of which he treats has only lately come to light. The materials for the future historian are now ample ; and it is a great satisfaction to those who have the literary glory of their country at heart, to know, that a * writer in the maturity of his powers, whose attention from his early youth has been directed to the principles of government, whose knowledge is ■■" Sir James Mackintosh. xlvi INTRODUCTION'. only equalled by his genius, who, with the ex- ception of Burke, is the only one of our great writers who has shone also as a great parliament- ary orator, and whose candour and impartiality will not allow iiim to be fettered by the trammels of party, has undertaken the arduous task of continuing the English history up to the aera of the French revolution. Having given this brief outline of the events connected witli the great struggle between the Episcopalian and Presbyterian, the Jacobite and Whig principles, of which the RebelHon of 1745 formed a section, we shall now proceed to advert more particularly to some of the circumstances of that rebellion. If justice has been done to no part of the history of this country during tlie past century, it has, least of all, been done to the Rebellion, as to which the most incorrect ideas are yet generally entertained. The secret springs of that insurrection, the circumstances which deter- mined many of the movements of the rebels, the' character of the Prince who was at its head, the conduct of the victorious party, are yet in a great measure unknown to the public. The history of Home, which appeared nearly sixty years after the Rebellion, and from which, pre- vious to its publication, considerable expectations were entertained, added little to our knowledge on any of the above important points. This was partly owing to the defective information of the author, and partly owing to his fear of giv- INTRODIJCTIOX. xlvii ing offence. Having himself borne arms in the RebelUon as a volunteer, in aid of the govern- ment, he was not a person to whom the leading Jacobites would willingly confide their secrets ; and it was rather unreasonable to suppose that he could easily reconcile an account, not of the necessary severities, but of the lawless, disgrace- ful, and unnecessary cruelties which stained the laurels of the victors, with his feelings of grati- tude towards the family from which he had so long enjoyed a considerable pension. Besides, the writer of this introduction can assert, of his own knowledge, that Mr. Home submitted his history in manuscript to some of the members of the royal family. But a faithful narrative of the conduct of the Duke of Cumberland, and of the lengths to which he allowed his army to go, in gratifying their rapacity, and in taking a brutal revenge for the disgrace with which they had been so often covered, could hardly have been an acceptable present to any member of the family to which he belonged. Of this Mr. Home had too much penetration not to be fully aware ; and though he was too honourable a man to state that as true, which he knew or believed to be false, he preferred a prudent silence on many important transactions of the Rebellion, to a more comprehensive statement, which might have been less gratifying to his benefactors. His book affords materials for the historian, but ought not to be considered a history. xlviii INTRODUCTION. . The author of Waverley has, in that work, and some of his other writings, sufficiently proved his abiUty to become the historian of the last struggle of departed clanship. He seems ac- quainted with every incident illustrative of national manners, individual character, or the history of particular families ; and he possesses a power of picturesque delineation which pecu- liarly qualifies him for the task of historian of the wild and strongly-marked sons of the moun- tains. In this minute knowledge and power of picturesque delineation, he bears a strong re- semblance to John Millier, the great historian of Switzerland * ; and if he has less learning than the Swiss, he is totally free from his occasional pedantry and affectation. He would not exe- cute his task the worse, for entertaining a sort of secret predilection, which his better judgment can hardly enable him to suppress, for '• the days when each man's arms clattered round him when he walked the hills." But even the author of Waverley seems to be under the influence of some erroneous impres- sions respecting the Rebellion. He has uni- formly attempted to hold up Prince Charles Edward as a man possessed of great strength of * Called the German Tacitus, not because he translated Tacitus, as a writer in the Quarterly Keview, in an article which reflects no honour on that publication, ignorantly sup- poses, but because he possesses in an eminent degree the qualities for which Tacitus is distinguished. 'Miiller never translated Tacitus. INTRODUCTION, XllX mind, of a generous, bold, and daring character, and even of" commanding talents ; and he has attributed the weakness he afterwards displayed* which he was aware could not be easily recon- ciled with this character, to the disappointment of his hopes in the Rebellion. " Let us be just," he says, " to the memory of the unfor- tunate : — without courage, he had never made the attempt -^without address and military talent, he had never kept together his own desul- tory bands, or discomfited the more experienced soldiers of his enemy ; and, finally, without patience, resolution, and fortitude, he could never have supported his cause so long, under successive disappointments ; or fallen, at last, with honour, by an accumulated and over- whelming pressure." This is the language of the panegyrist, and not of the historian. The truth is, and of this abundant proofs will be seen in the following work and notes attached to it, that Charles was always an exceedingly weak man, destitute of any of those high qua- lities attributed to him by the author of Waver- ley ; that lie was indebted to circumstances alone, and the skill and resolution of some of those who attached themselves to his fortunes, for the success that attended an expedition which he was by no means qualified to direct ; and that he displayed, during that expedition, none of the virtues for which he here receives credit. The landing in the Highlands without follow- I INTRODUCTION. ers miglît . be courageous or miglit be rash ; liazardous in the extreme, it certainly was. We term an act courageous or rash, according as the hazard to which the actor exposes himself is necessary or uncalled for, according to the de- gree of probability there is that it will be at- tended with any useful result, and according to the amount of sacrifice with which a failure may be attended. But, admitting that the chance of timely aid from France was so small as to justify him in taking this desperate step, admit- ting that the obstinate refusal to comply with Lochiel*s request, to remain concealed for a few days, till he and his other friends should meet together, and concert what steps ought to be taken, was not childish impatience, and that in all this his conduct was not rash, but wise and courageous, it by no means follows that it re- quired address and military talents to keep together his bands ; that he contributed, in any respect, except by his presence, to the enabling these bands to discomfit the more experienced soldiers of the enemy ; or that it was owing to his patience, resolution, and fortitude, his cause was so long supported j or that he fell at last with honour. In the first place, the determination of one powerful chief, of high character, by whom the Highland Jacobites were guided upon almost every occasion, induced a number of other chiefs to join his standard. In an enterprise like this, he who once draws the sword must throw away the scabbard j and they had all the most power- INTRODUCTION. li fui of motives for exerting themselves to the utmost by their valour and their interest to pro- mote the common cause. Exertion held out to them a prospect of honours, wealth, and prefer- ment ; an opposite line of conduct held out to them the prospect of loss of power, and beggary, or a disgraceful death on the scaffold. Hence, though measures were more than once adopted decidedly contrary to the wishes of the Prince, no officer ceased for a moment to have the success of the cause earnestly at heart; and it is expressly said by Lord George Murray, in in a letter dated from Lochaber, May 16, 174<6, " that from the beginning of the whole affair till that time, (the advance to Nairn,) there had never been the least dispute or misunderstanding among any of the officers.*' In the next place, it is well known that Lord George Murray formed the plans of the battles, and directed all the military movements, which were attended with success. " At Gladsmuir," he says, *'the plan of which attack, I had formed, I was the last that passed the defile of the first line, and the first that attacked.*' " At Clifton," he says, " I own / disobeyed orders ; but what I did was the only safe and honourable measure I could take, and it succeeded. At the battle of Falkirk, I never received an order or mes- sage from His Royal Highness till the battle was over.** Tiie author of the followinar Memoirs, who, from having acted in the character of aid-de-camp to the Prince and c 2 lii INTRODUCTION. Lord George Murray, had good opportunities of knowing both, speaks uniformly with great contempt of the former, and so far from attri- buting any part of the success to him, he does not hesitate to say, *' that whenever he inter- fered, he did mischief.'* " Had Prhice Charles," he says, *' slept during the whole of the expe- dition, and allowed Lord George to act for him, according to his own judgment, there is every reason for supposing he would have found the crown of Great Britain on his head when he woke." He could have no motive for traducing the Prince, by whom he had been favourably treated ; and Lord George Murray, he says, ex- pressed pique on account of his quitting him. His judgment respecting Lord George Murray could hardly, therefore, be biassed by an unfair motive; and, indeed, the unreserved manner in which he speaks of his failings, will not allow us, for a moment, to entertain any such suspicion. Hear, then, the language he uses with regard to the part Lord George acted: — '* Lord George Mur- ray, who had the charge of all the details of our army, and xvJio had the sole direction of it, pos- sessed a natural genius for military operations ; and was indeed a man of surprising talents, which, had they been cultivated by the study of military tactics, would unquestionably have rendered him one of the greatest generals of the age. He was tall and robust, and brave in the highest degree ; conducting the Highlanders in the most heroic manner, and always the first to rush sword in hand into the midst of the enemy. He used INTRODUCTION. liu to say, when we advanced to the charge, " I do not ask you, my lads, to go before, but merely to follow me !" a very energetic harangue, admir- ably calculated to excite the ardour of the High- landers ; but which would sometimes have had a better effect in the mouth of the Prince. He slept little, was continually occupied witli all manner of details, and was altogether most in- defatigable, combining and directing alone all our operations ; in a word, he was the only person capable of conducting our army. His colleague, the Duke of Perth, though brave, even to ex- cess, every way honourable, and possessed of a mild and gentle disposition, was of very limited abilities, and interfered with nothing. Lord George was vigilant, active, and diligent ; his plans were always judiciously formed, and he carried them promptly and vigorously into ex- ecution. However with an infinity of good qualities, he was not without his defects : proud, haughty, blunt, and imperious, he wished to have the exclusive ordering of every thing j and feeling his superiority, he would listen to no advice. There were few persons, it is true, in our army sufficiently versed in military affairs to be capable of advising him as to the conducting of his operations. The Highland chiefs, like their vassals, possessed the most heroic courage ; but they knew no other manoeuvre, than that of rushing upon the enemy sword in hand, as soon as they saw them, without order and without discipline. Lord George could receive still less. c S liv INTRODUCTION. assistance from the subaltern Irish officers, who, with the exception of Mr. Sullivan, possessed no other knowledge than that which usually forms the whole stock of subalterns, namely, the knowing how to mount and quit guard. We can hardly, therefore, be astonished that Lord George, possessing so many qualities requisite to form a general, should have gained the hearts of the Highlanders ; and a general who has the confidence of his soldiers may perform wonders. Hence, possessing the art of employing men to advantage, without having had time to discipline them, but taking them merely as they came from the plough, he made them perform prodigies of valour against various English armies, always greatly superior in number to that of the Prince, though the English troops are allowed to be the best in Europe. Nature had formed him for a great warrior ; he did not require the accidental advantage of birth." — Charles was the nominal head of the enterprise, and his presence was necessary to it ; but the remaining with his army seems to have constituted his only merit ; and to attribute to him the successes at Gladsmuir, Clifton, and Falkirk, does not seem a whit more reasonable than to attribute the victory of Blenheim to Queen Anne, or that of Waterloo to George the Fourth. It is repeatedly stated in these Memoirs, and has been stated by other authorities entitled to credit, that the Irishmen, who enjoyed his confidence, and whose counsels the Prince followed on all occasions, were, with INTRODUCTION. Iv one exception perhaps, men of the most limited capacity ; a circumstance which, of itself, proves that he could not have possessed any of the qualifications of a good commander. Not that great princes have not been sometimes fond of low and worthless companions ; but it is one thing to be fond of the society of such men, and another to be guided by their advice in matters of importance. Then as to his patience, resolution, andjbrtitude. 1Ï we are to believe the reports of those who shared his intimacy, so far from showing for- titude, he was quite unmanned whenever he ex- perienced the least opposition or contradiction. " Charles," says John Hay, his occasional se- cretary, " who had marched a-foot at the head of the men all the way, was obliged (in tlie retreat from Derby) to get on horseback, for he could not walk and hardly stand, as was always the case with him when he was cruelly used.'* It is in adversity that patience, resolution, and fortitude, can be displayed ; and there is ample proof in these Memoirs, that if lie had possessed these qualities in an ordinary degree, he would not have abandoned the Highlanders as he did, when his cause was by no means hopeless. " All that we can say," observes the author of these Memoirs, " is, that this Prince entered on his expedition rashly, and without foreseeing the personal dangers to which he was about to ex- pose himself; that, in carrying it on, he always took care not to expose his person to the fire of c 4 Ivi IXTKODUCTrON. the enemy ; and that he abandoned it at a time when he had a thousand times more reason to hope for success than when he left Paris to undertake it." He persisted in urging the night-attack, at Nairn, when no hope of success remained ; he refused, while it was yet time, to abandon Inverness, and take a strong ground on the other side of the water of Nairn, though CI unie Macpherson was expected every moment on that side, merely because his Irish and French friends disliked the hardships of a hill-warfare ; he exposed himself, under every possible dis- advantage, to the attack of a superior enemy ; and, the first moment that fortune declared against him, he allowed his tutor to lay hold of the bridle of his horse and turn him about, and abandoned his cause without the least effort to retrieve his fortunes, or making his appearance among his followers, who entreated, nay implored him not to desert them. He fell ; but he cer^ tainly did not fall with honour. His character, as was observed by Hume, exhibited " an un- accountable mixture of temerity and timidity.*' In the notes to the following Memoirs, enough is stated to show, that Charles Edward was not the generous and heroic youth his deluded fol- lowers fondly conceived him to be ; a delusion the author of Waverley has exerted his talents to perpetuate. *' Lord Marischal," says David Hume, " thought there was no vice so mean or gtrpcious, of which he was not capable j" and INTRODUCTION. IVU Lord Marischal is well known to have been a man of the highest honour and integrity. Helvetius, a generous and honourable man, also described him to Hume, from personal knowledge, as " the most unworthy of all mortals." Dr. King, who says he " had some long conversations with him here, and, for some years after, held a con- stant correspondence with him, not indeed by letters, but by messengers, (gentlemen of fortune, honour, and veracity, on whose relations he could entirely depend,) who were occasionally dispatched to him," — and that he was as *' well qualified as any man in England to draw a just character of him," — gives a portrait which completely agrees with the accounts of Lord Marischal and Helvetius. Alfieri, who reluct- antly speaks of him or his brother, ** laiidare non It potendo, ne li-volendo biasimarey" is, however, obliged, in accounting for the dreadful situation to which he had reduced an amiable wife, to state circumstances which it is unnecessary here to repeat, and which prove him to have been an odious and brutal monster. To balance all these testimonies, there has not been produced the slightest tittle of respectable evidence. He is said to have possessed great powers of dissim- ulation, and he may have for a time succeeded in concealing his vices and defects ; but we must abandon all the rules by which character is estimated, before we can conceive him to have possessed virtue or talents. History should be just. The young Pre- Iviii INTRODUCTION. tender acted with irresolution, pusillanimity, and an unfeeling disregard of his followers ; but his conqueror acted with a more than savage barbarity ; and though it would have been un- pardonable in the Hanoverian government to have allowed the Highlands to remain in a state calculated to give them any alarm in future, and though measures of firmness and even severity were necessary, yet nothing could justify the acts of atrocity which followed the victory of Culloden. The author of the article in the Review so often alluded to, justly condemns the sentiment expressed by the editor of the Cul- loden Papers, " that no blame can attach to the Duke of Cumberland for them," but does not seem to disapprove of the drawing a veil over the conduct of the Duke, " out of no respect or tenderness to the memorv of that Prince, but in justice to the far different sentiments of many members of his illustrious family.'* But history ought to spare the feelings of no family. The actions of public men are the property of the public ; and it is not more necessary to bestow praise where praise is due, than it is to censure where censure is deserved. The ties which con- nect men with their species are seldom so effectually loosened, even in individuals of the most brutal and unfeeling dispositions, as to render them altogether insensible to the detest- ation either of their contemporaries or posterity ; and the practice of holding up, in all cases, the conduct of the cruel spoiler, the unjust and INTRODUCTION. lix merciless oppressor, to merited infamy, by teaching men in power that they can have no hope of escaping the tribunal of history, even if they should succeed in silencing their con- temporaries, is one of the safeguards of humanity, which a man, who has at all reflected on the motives of human action, would be least willing to renounce. The Duke of Cumberland carried fire and sword through a whole country, driving off the cattle, the only means by which the people sub- sisted, and leaving those who did not perish by the sword to die of famine. Many poor people who never offended, females, decrepid old men, and helpless infants, became the victims of this savage ferocity. Mothers with babes at their breast were often found dead on the hills, literally starved to death. As a specimen of these atrocities, take the following letter from a clergyman in the North, published in the Scots Magazine for June, 1746 : *' As the most of this parish is burnt to ashes, and all the cattle be- longing to the rebels carried off by His Majesty's forces, there is no such thing as money or pen- nyworth to be got in this desolate place. My family is now much increased by the wives and infants of those in the rebellion in my parish, crowding for a mouthful of bread to keep them from starving, which no good Christian can re- fuse." Parties of soldiers, while the supreme court of justice was sitting, and there was no obstacle to the due execution of the laws, even Ix INTRODUCTION. within a few miles of Edinburgh, without war- rant from a civil court, seized the goods and effects, not of persons convicted as rebels, but of whomsoever they pleased to style rebels, ex- posed them to public auction, and arbitrarily disposed of the proceeds, to the ruin of the in- dividuals themselves, and the defrauding of their lawful creditors. If a tradesman happened to displease an' officer, he would order him to be flogged. Thus one Maiben, a wig-maker' in Stirling, happening to have some words with an officer respecting a transaction in the way of his business, Lieut. Col. Howard ordered him to be flogged, and this sentence was carried into exe- cution in defiance of the formal protest of the magistrates of Stirling, and their demand to have him given up to them. After this system of violence and plunder had been carried the most daring lengths, a number of actions were brought in the court of session, against officers of the army, by men who had been thus stript of their property ; and on the 1 8th of December, 1746, Captain Hamilton, of St. George's dra- goons, one of the most noted of these military robbers, under the sanction of the royal duke, was condemned to make restitution ; a sentence which decided the fate of other actions against him and his brother officers, and put a stop to farther depredations. It required no small degree of fortitude to do justice in those times; and we are not to wonder that Lord President Forbes, to whom the merit of this sentence is INTRODUCTION. Ixî due, should have been complimented on account of it by Sir Andrew Mitchell, as the saviour of his country. *' I am persuaded," he says, in a letter in the Culloden Papers, *' that Providence intends that you should once more save your country ; and, as an earnest of it, I consider your decree in the case of Captain Hamilton, the honour of which is ascribed to you.*' The ingratitude of George II. to Forbes, to whose efforts and diversion in the North it was ovi'ing that the whole of the disaffected clans did not pour down their forces on the South, and to whom that monarch, therefore, probably owed his continuance on the tlirone, an ingratitude which preyed on the warm and generous Forbes and brought him to an untimely grave, has been often alluded to. The writer of an article on the Culloden papers in the Edinburgh Review, says, *' We cannot doubt that one of the popular accounts is the true one, which ascribes it all to his having plainly, and even in the king's pre- sence, expressed his decided disapprobation of the violence of the royal army." The condem- nation of the son of the monarch, involved in the decision to which so much importance was then attached, serves to confirm that opinion. Let us, however, do justice to George II. The Duke of Cumberland was his son ; and though the whole people are frequently said to be the chil- dren of the monarch, it must be remembered, this is only a figure. George could occasionally be magnanimous ; for when the Pretender re- Ixii INTRODUCTION. visited this country, some years afterwards, he allowed him to depart, though he was aware of his presence, and could easily have secured him. * It may now be proper to speak more particu- larly respecting the following Memoirs. The Chevalier de Johnstone, the author, was the only son of James Johnstone, merchant, in Edinburgh. This family, by descent and alli- ance, were connected with some of the first houses in Scotland. His sister Cecilia was mar- ried to a son of Lord Hollo, who succeeded to the estate and title in lj65. The Chevalier de Johnstone appears in his youth to have moved in the best society which the Scottish capital then contained, and to have been on the most intimate footing with the well-known Lady Jane Douglas, mother of the present Lord Douglas, who uniformly treated him with all the tender- ness and regard of a parent. Educated in epis- * It is but justice to observe that Earl Waldgrave, who seems to have been a very honest man, alleges many things in favour of the Duke of Cumberland, whose " notions of honour and generosity, he says, were worthy of a Prince," though he allows that he was " too much guided by his passions, which were often violent and ungovernable," and that he was not qualified for " interfering in the affairs of civil government." — The commonly received account, how- ever, and the character of the Earl are reconcileable with each other. It may be observed in passing, that the Earl speaks much more favourably of George the Second than he does of his successor, when under his charge. INTRODUCTION. Ixiiî copalian and Jacobite principles, on the first intelligence of the landing of Prince Charles Edward, he made his escape from Edinburgh to Duncrub, the seat of Lord Rollo, near Perth, where he waited the arrival of the Prince in that town, and was one of the first of the Low-country gentlemen who flocked to his standard. By the Misses Rollo, his relations, he was introduced to the Duke of Perth and Lord George Murray, the leaders of the rebel army, the latter of whom invited him to become his aid-de-camp, an invit- ation which he accepted. He acted for a con- siderable period in that capacity, and also as assistant aid-de-camp to the Prince himself. From the Prince he received a captain's com- mission, immediately after the battle of Preston- pans, and worn out with the incessant hardships of his situation of aid-de-camp, that hardly left him one hour in the four-and- twenty for repose, he immediately began to raise a company, with which, when completed, he joined the Duke of Perth's regiment. He bore a part in all the movements of the rebel army, and after the battle of CuUoden, remained for some time in concealment in different places in the North, and then proceeded in disguise to Edinburgh, where he again remained for some time con- cealed in the house of Lady Jane Douglas at Drumshugh. He made his escape from Scot- land to England, in the disguise of a Scots pedlar, and after remaining some time in London, he embarked with Lady Jane Douglas at Harwich, 5 Ixiv INTRODUCTION. for Holland. It was his intention, on first reaching the continent, to proceed to Russia, where, by means of two uncles, Generals Hewit and Douglas, who possessed great influence in that country, he could have established himself to advantage ; but he allowed himself to be persuaded to go to Paris, where he was buoyed np for some years with hopes of another expedi- tion to Scotland. He obtained a share in the fund set apart by the government for Scots exiles, but, tired of an inactive life, he entered the French service, and was sent to the French possessions in North America, from which he returned to France on the conquest of these possessions by the English. The Chevalier de Johnstone seems to have been a man of an open, decided, and rather impetuous character. By his mother he had been much indulged, and the Jacobites of that day, like the Cavaliers, of whom they were the descendants, willingly excluded w^iatever par- took of restraint on enjoyment, or temperance of any kind, from their code of morality. His youth, he tells us, had been stormy, and Lady Jane Douglas urged his father to allow him to gratify his wish to pay a visit to his uncles in Russia when he was under twenty years of age, as it would withdraw him for a time from his dis- solute companions. In his concealment in the house of Lady Jane Douglas, he first acquired a taste for reading, which he retahied during the rest of his life. That he was a man of talents INTRODUCTION. J XV and of an amiable disposition is prov^ed by the confidence which he successively enjoyed, of MM. des Herbiers and the Count de Raimond, governors of the island of ('ape-Breton, and MM. de Levis and Montcalm, the commanders of tlie forces in Canada, to whom he acted as aide- de-camp, and who entertained for him a warm friendship. By the death of his friends and pro- tectors, or some unfortunate accident or other, the cup of preferment seems to have always been dashed from his lips the moment he was on the point of tasting it ; and he was left to languish in comfortless poverty, with the prospect of dying in want of the necessaries of life, notwithstanding the most meritorious services to his adopted country, where the most degrading petticoat in- fluence then regulated the disposal of almost every public employment, and where corruption and profligacy reigned in their most foul and disgusting forms. * * When Lord Stormonth was our ambassador at the court of France, the Chevalier revisited Scotland for the purpose of examining into the rights of an estate to which he laid claim, and brought with him a letter of recommendation from his Lordship to a professional gentleman in Edinburgh. Mr. Young, to whom the Editor is indebted for so much va- luable information, had then frequent opportunities of seeing and conversing with the Chevalier. From Mr. Young's desci'ip- tion it appears that he was little and slight in his person, and that from his mapners and appearance, a stranger would have pronounced him less fit for the camp than the drawing- room. But the French officer of former days valued himself more on certain fashionable accomplishments than was d Ixvi INTRODUCTION. The Memoirs appear, from circumstances al- luded to in them, such as a recent financial measure of the Abbé Terray, to have been written shortly after the return of the author to France. From the interval which had elapsed between the RebelHon and their composition, and his absence from his native country, the author has occasionally fallen into unavoidable inac- curacy with respect to minor matters. But his impressions, with respect to all the great transactions of the Rebellion are clear and strong ; and on many of them, such as the retreat from Derby, the meeting of the van- quished Highlanders at Ruthven, and the deser- tion of Prince Charles, he throws a valuable light. From the confidential situation he filled, he had good opportunities of knowing the cha- racters of the leading personages in the Rebel- lion ; and his portraits bear every mark of pene- tration, candour, and impartiality. The future historian of this period cannot, with a due regard to truth, pourtray Prince Charles Edward, Lord George Murray, or the Duke of Perth, as they actually were, without availing himself of the assistance of our uthor. His account, too, of the French service in the reign of Louis XV., towards the conclusion of the work, is by no means the least valuable part of it. thought consistent with military hardihood in this country ; and it is to be remembered that the Chevaher had long been accustomed only to French society. INTRODUCTION. Ixvil It can hardly be necessary to apologise to the Scots Presbyterians, of the present day, for the harsli manner in which the author speaks of their fathers. It is difficult, in our times, to form any idea of the animosity which the episcopalians and presbyterians formerly bore towards each other. The author merely speaks the common language of his party. Take, for instance, the following passage, out of thousands of the same description, in the Rehearsals, a periodical work which first appeared in 1704, 1705, I706, I707, and I7O8, and was republished so late as 1750, written by Mr. Lesley, an eminent non-juring clergyman, possessed of great talents, the author of many other political and controversial tracts, during the reigns of King William and Queen Anne, and the intimate friend of Dr. King: — *' It has been an old observation, that wherever presbytery was established, there witchcaft and adultery were particulrrly rampant. As one said of Scotland, in the days of presbytery, they burn all the old women for witches, and keep the young ones for w s. The records of the stools of repentance in Scotland would astonish you, where such multitudes of men and women come daily to make their show for adultery and fornication, that it has almost ceased to be a shame ; and those so inclined go thither to know where they may find their game, which has so increased, that the com- mision of the General Assembly there have this very month petitioned the Parliament to help d 2 Ixviii INTRODUCTION. them in particular against the abominable sin of adultery, which does much abound, say they in their said petition. Witchcraft is a spiritual adultery, and the carnal commonly accompanies it J and rebellion is called witchcraft. And it is particularly remarkable of presbytery, that it never came yet into any country upon the face of the earth but by rebellion : — that mark lies upon it." How furious the spirit of animosity must have been when a man of education, cha- racter, and talents, could so far lay aside every thing like candour and Christian charity, as to stain his pages with such abominable ribaldry ! But this was greedily swallowed by the high church party of those days. *' The tree is known by his fruit." The Pres- byterians may now triumphantly appeal to that test. Whatever else the alliance between church and state produces, experience has proved that it certainly does not tend to improve the morals and character of a people. The long ladder of church preferment may secure to the state a trusty band of dependents, ready for every po- litical emergency ; but, alas ! the steps of that ladder are not mounted by labouring in the vineyard of the Lord. The aristocracy may deem themselves unable to provide for their younger sons without rich livings, and rich liv- ings are incompatible with presbyterian equality ; and, therefore, both the crown and the aris- tocracy may find their account in the present state of the church of England; but to the power of the crown and the convenience of the INTRODUCTION. Ixix aristocracy, the moral and religious improve- ment of the English people is sacrificed. In Scotland the mass of the population has been gradually raised from the lowest depth of degradation by presbytery, and the institutions which it set on foot and still watches over, to a proud elevation among the people of the British empire. Wherever, indeed, the Presbyterian system has been established, — in Scotland, in the north of Ireland, in Holland, Germany, and Switzerland, or in the wilds of North America, — it has uniformly been accompanied by a marked elevation of character. It unites the people with the church, and the church with the people. When a church is viewed as something separate and distinct from a people, and the people as existing for the church rather than the church for the people, the splendour of a hierarchy will naturally be thought to outweigh every other consideration. The absence of that splendour may diminish the attractions of a presbyterian church in the eyes of the higher ranks, and pre- vent them from viewing its ministry as a suitable employment for their children : there is in this nothing to be regretted. The great body of the people identify themselves with presbytery ; the humblest individual feels himself somethinir under it, and raised in his own eyes, (and no virtue can exist without such respect) ; the grand foundation on which the structure of society rests becomes thus firm and solid, and may even bid defiance, as in Scotland, to a heartless poli- IXX INTRODUCTION. tical profligacy and corruption in the upper ranks of life, the result of a most defective civil constitution, which would overwhelm another nation. There is the best evidence for stating, that, notwithstanding the fight which the Re- formed Church of Scotland had carried on against vice and immorality, the Scots, during the time of the civil wars, were still greatly be- neath the English in character. It appears from Letters from Scotland, in Whitlock, in November, 1652, "that at the assizes m Scotland 1000 appeared before the Judges, accused for adulteries and other crimes.** — The Discourses on the affairs of Scotland of the patriotic Fletcher exhibit a state of things which seems almost in- credible in our days. But the complete esta- blishment of presbytery soon began to produce its effects ; and, as has been well observed by an able writer, *' the Scotch, who in one century were the most unprincipled and desperate ma- rauders, were in the next examples of sobriety and peace.*' It is not meant to defend the intolerance with which the Presbyterians, as well as other sects, were chargeable, nor to vindicate the foolish union with the Cavaliers, which brought back the Stuarts without limitations, and inundated the island with a flood of evils, from which the Revolution could not free it. Peace be to their errors ! The austerity, too, of the Presbyterians may seem to throw an unnecessary gloom over human life ; and it cannot be denied that they formerly carried their hatred of pleasure to an INTRODUCTION. IXXI unwarrantable excess ; but the open profligacy of their opponents, of the mischiefs of which they had seen such abundant proofs, the keen struggle which they so long maintained, and their almost unparalleled sufferings, could hardly fail to throw them into the extreme of self-denial. To these times succeeded others of a different com- plexion, in which nature asserted her dominion over the Presbyterians, and their austerity has long ceased to pass the bounds of propriety. The writer of these observations, whose infancy and early youth were passed among Presbv- terians, still more strict than those of the estab- lished church of Scotland, once thought many of their observances an inconvenient and unneces- sary restraint. But when he calls to mind the cheerfulness possessed by the working classes of Scotland, their kind and social disposition, their festivity and their general happiness, and reflects at the same time on the benefits derived from habits of early restraint in after-life, the mis- chiefs of indulgence, and that obstacles in the way of enjoyment tend often to enhance its value, laying all other considerations aside, he is inclined to doubt whether even the mass of worldly happiness is not increased by what may seem, at first sight, an unnecessary abridgement of it. The native of Scotland, who visits other countries, will often, like Bruce in Abyssinia*, when viewing the men around him, and their * See his Reflections on discovering the Source of the Nile. Ixxii INTRODUCTION. dispositions and habits, be forced to remark the wide interval in the moral scale which separates them from the peaceful and intelligent inhabit- ants of" the valleys of Tweed, Annan, and Clyde, and to cherish a feeling of gratitude to the memory of those who laid the foundation of that superiority. The author of these Memoirs in- voluntarily pays a high tribute to the character of the Presbyterians whom he abuses.— -Though he belonged to a party whom they abhorred, he was more than once indebted to them for his life, and they concealed him in their houses, at a time when that concealment was attended with the utmost danger to themselves, and when to have discovered him would have been attended with a considerable reward. ^^^^^1 ■ ^^^I^^^^^^^^^I^^^^R " -^ ~ mI I ^^^^^^^^H^Hh gi HHI ^^^^^^H^^^^HK __ .IH I^^H ^^^^■^^ffil \ ^^ :3tiMHH ^^^^H ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^■■HE -ti^ -.-i^ -xRih >M^^^^^^^^^I ^^^^^^^H ^H l|IHIlH^^H^HHH^H|p^ -^^^Hj^^^H ■ ^^^H 1 9 ■■ ^^^^^^^^^H^HSgW s^'flH^^^^H WM ^^^^^^^H^^^^^Hfli^ /^^É^B^^^^^^i ^m I^^^^^^^^^^HH^^^^^HW ^.ffl^^^^^^^^ i«««l^ r,^.^«.^. &^/?/ Q^àùi/r/p. à I'fojn an t'y^^naJ jAclurf hy *- d'n/Àonr t£IEMOIRS or THE their head, and unexpectedly fell upon the Eng- lish, with such impetuosity, that they were im- mediately put to flight. Not a man of tliem escaped to cany the news of their defeat to Eng- land, and Scotland was completely * liberated. * The author here, and in the above account of the French alliance, repeats some of the silly notions very gene- rally entertained by the people of Scotland in his day. In Eginhart's " Vita Caroli Magni," it is said of Charles, " Scotorum quoque reges, sic habuit ad suam voluntatem per suam munificentiam inclinâtes, ut eum nunquam aliter nisi Dominum, seque subditos ac servos ejus pronunciarent." This was quite enough for the Scots historians, who have built on it a regular treaty of alliance between Charlemagne and good King Achaius. They did not know that, in the time of Charlemagne, Ireland went by the name of Scotland, and that North Britain did not receive that name till the 10th century. But so inveterate was the prejudice respect- ing this pretended alliance, that Lord Hailes was almost afraid to expose its absurdity. The first mithoitic evidence of any " intercourse between Scotland and France" is placed by the learned Scots annalist in 1168. Till lately, the Scots were grossly ignorant of the early history of their country ; and the credulity with which they received all manner of idle fables, justly subjected them to the delusion of their neighbours. An Innes, a Dalrjmple, a Pinkerton, a Chalmers, and other learned and laborious writers, have at length freed their countrymen from this reproach, and they can now admire a Buchanan for his latinity, and their poets for their genius, without believing in the existence of the kings before Christ, in the high antiquity of the French alliance, or in all the marvellous achievements fondly attri- buted to Wallace and Bruce. Kildrummy was the scene of several conflicts between the English and Scots, which Barbour has most circumstantially described; but no decisive battle, of the nature of that above mentioned, ever took place there. There is a curious description of this castle in Cordiner's Antiquities and Scenery of the North of Scotland. REBELLION OF 1745. O43 I walked a good deal about Kildrummy; and recalling this event to my remembrance, my imagination was so filled with it, that I thought I could even distinguish the field of battle, where this glorious victory was gained over the English. I often said to myselfi O ! if the earth here would open, how many English bones, which it preserves as precious deposits in its bosom, would it discover ! The view of this celebrated spot operated as a relief to me, raised somewhat my drooping spirits, and, for a mo- ment, made me feel all my troubles alleviated and suspended, and my mental distress less intolerable. As there are only a few cottages at Kildrum- my, I passed the night in one which went by the name of a public house, where I slept on a bed of straw, very uncomfortably ; but to make amends for my bed, my landlady gave me an excellent young fowl for supper, and sur- prised me next morning by only demanding three-pence for my supper and bed. This pub- lic house, it is true, was a very extraordinary one ; for it contained no liquor of any descrip- tion. This outset gave me pleasure, as I per- ceived that I should not have hunger, in addition to my other sufferings, to encounter in my jour- ney to the south, as I must undoubtedly have had in the Highlands. Mr. Gordon had sent an order to Kildrummy, to furnish me with a guide to Cortachie, a village belonging to Lord Ogilvie, at the foot of the mountains to which R 2 244 MEMOIRS OF THE I had kept very close, since my departure from Banff. Before leaving Kildrummy, I ordered my landlady to roast another fowl for me, which I put in my pocket by way of precaution ; for I was uncertain if I should find any thing to eat in the course of the day ; and on giving a sixpence to the good woman of the house, she semed to be as well pleased as myself. These good people have very little money among them, and indeed they have little want of it, as they possess the necessaries of life in great abundance. As soon as my guide had conducted me so far on the road to Cortachie that I could not go wrong, I sent him back again, and reached Cortachie in the evening. In traversing the moor of Glenelion *, I wished much to have fallen in with the minister of that parish, a san- guinary wretch, who made a practice of scouring this moor every day, with a pistol, concealed under his great coat, which he instantly pre- sented to the breasts of any of our unfortunate gentlemen, whom he fell in with, in order to take them prisoners. This iniquitous interpreter of the word of God considered it as a holy undertaking to bring his fellow-creatures to the scaffold ; and he was the cause of the death of * This is the manner in which this name is written in the original ; but it is presumed the author has fallen into some mistake here. A valley in Perthshire, watered by the Lyon, bears the name of Glenlyon, but it is remote from the route of our author. Perhaps he meant the moor of Glenila or Glenisla. Glenila is a long vale, watered by the lia, and Glenila church is not many miles distant from Cortachie. REBELLION OF ly^-^. 245 several, whom he had thus taken by surprise. Mrs. Menzie had cautioned me to be upon my guard with respect to him, but I was not afraid of him, as I always had with me my English pistols, which were of excellent workmanship, loaded and primed, one in each breeches pocket. I desired, indeed, nothing so much as to fall in with him, for the good of my companions in misfortune, being confident that I should have given a good account of him in an engagement with pistols ; for I have all my life remarked that an unfeeling, barbarous, and cruel man is never brave. But the punishment of this in- human monster was reserved for Mr. Gordon of Abachie. When we separated, four days after our departure from Rothiemurchus, Abachie resolved to go to his own castle ; and the minister of Glenelion, having been informed of his re- turn, put himself at the head of an armed body of his parishioners, true disciples of such a pas- tor, and proceeded with them to the castle of. Abachie, in order to take Mr. Gordon prisoner. He had only time to save himself, by jumping out of a window in his shirt. As we seldom pardon a treacherous attempt on our life, Mr. Gordon assembled a dozen of his vassals some days afterwards, set out with them in the night, and contrived to obtain en- trance into the house of this fanatical minister. Having found him iu bed, they immediately per- formed the operation upon him, which Abelard formerly underwent, and carried off * * * * * R 3 ^46 MEMOIRS OF THE as trophies; assuring him, at the same time, that if he repeated his nightly excursion with his parishioners, they would pay him a second visit, which should cost him his life. In this ad- venture his wife alone was to be pitied ; as for himself, his punishment was not so tragical as the death on the scaffold, which he had in view for Mr. Gordon of Abachie. It is to be hoped that this chastisement completely cured him of his lust for inhuman excursions. As most of the vassals of Lord Ogilvie had been in the army of Prince Charles, I ran no risk in applying to the people of the first house in Cortachie which I came to. * Having entered * In Scotland, the vassals were always of the party to which their chief belonged, whether it was that of the house of Stuart, or that of the house of Hanover. — Author. This must be understood of few parts of Scotland, except the Highlands. Though the great families of the Low Country had still, comparatively speaking, more influence than was possessed by the great families of England, they were unable to bring many followers into the field. Mr. Home, in mentioning the arrival of the Earl of Home, to join Sir John Cope, at Dunbar, remarks, " He was then an officer in the guards, and thought it his duty to offer liis service when the king's troops were in the field. He came to Dunbar, attended by one or two servants. There were not wanting persons, upon this occasion, to make their re- marks, and observe the mighty change, which little more than a century had produced in Scotland. It was known to every body who knew any thing of the history of their country, that the ancestors of this noble lord (once the most powerful peers in the south of Scotland) could, at a short warning, have raised in their own territories a body of men, whose approach that Highland army which had got REBELLION. OF 1745, 247 a public house, and informed the landlady that I belonged to the army of the prince, she im- mediately told me that two of our gentlemen were concealed in Glen-Prossen, a large ravine between two mountains, at the bottom of which there is a small rivulet. This glen lies at the foot of the mountains, and is a most picturesque and retired spot. Having enquired my way to them, and received the necessary directions, I proceeded immediately to the house of a peasant, named Samuel, who dwelt at the head of the glen, about half a league from Cortachie, where I found the two gentlemen in question. They were Messrs. Brown and Gordon, officers in the service of France, who had escaped from Car- lisle, after the capitulation. They were very glad to see me ; and strongly urged me not to attempt proceeding any farther to the south, where I should infallibly be taken ; as they had received certain information that all the towns and villages on the banks of the first arm of the sea (the Frith of Tay) were searched with the utmost strictness and vigilance by patrols possession of the capital of Scotland, and was preparing to fight the whole military force in that kingdom, Would not have dared to wait." Even in the rebellion of 1715, the Earl of Winton, whose estate in East Lothian stood among the first in the list of forfeitures, could only join the rebel army with fourteen men, while Highland chieftains, even of middling rank . had, on the same occasion, brought along with them three, four^ or five hundred. R 4 24iS MEMOIRS OF THE of cavalry, who where constantly riding up and down the coast, and examining the pass- ports with the utmost rigour. They added, that it had been their intention to go to Edin- burgh, but that they had altered their mind, from the impossibiUty of carrying their plan into execution ; and they mentioned the names of several of our comrades who had been made prisoners, within the last few days, in attempting to pass the nearest ferry, which is about eight miles from Cortachie. * They earnestly in- treated me to abandon my intentions, and to remain with them for some time, at Samuel's, in Glen-Prossen. However desirous I was to reach Edinburgh, I did not wish to throw away my life with blind precipitancy. My situation was then so critical, that the least false step, or error of judgment, was sure to cost me my life. I therefore followed their advice, and consented to remain with them at Samuel's. Samuel was a very honest man, but extremely poor. We remained seventeen days in his house, eating at the same table with himself and his family, who had no other food than oatmeal, and no other drink than the water of the stream, which ran through the glen. We breakfasted every morning on a piece of oatmeal bread, which we were enabled to swallow by draughts of water j for dinner we boiled oatmeal with * Cortachie is at least twenty miles from uny part of the Frith of Tay. 4 REBELLION OF 1745. 249 water, till it acquired a consistency, and we ate it with horn spoons ; in the evening, we poured boiling water on this meal in a dish, for our supper.* I must own, that the time, during which I was confined to this diet, appeared to pass very slowly, though none of us seemed to suffer in our health from it ; on the contrary, we were all exceedingly well. We might have had some addition to our sorry cheer, by sending for it to Cortachie ; but we were afraid, (as Samuel's mode of living was well known, and as any alteration in it would lead to a suspicion that people were concealed in his house,) lest some ill-disposed person should give information of the circumstance to one of the numerous cavalry detachments, that passed through Cor- tachie, which would lead to our being made prisoners. Honest Samuel and his family had scarcely any other food than this the whole year through, except, perhaps, during summer, when they mixed a little milk with their oatmeal, instead of water. Their manner of living placed them beyond the reach of fortune ; for they had no- * These preparations of oatmeal are still the principal dishes of the Scots peasantry. Oatmeal boiled with water is " The healsome parritch, chief o' Scotia's food," of Burns ; and oatmeal stirred about, after boiling water has been poured on it, receives various names in difiPerent parts of the country, but is most generally called brose. The same dishes, under other names, are to be found also in various parts of England. 250 MEMOIRS OF THE thing to fear but bad health, which might de- prive them of their humble fare, but to which they were less exposed, from their frugal and simple mode of life, that does not fill the body with gross humours so much as a more luxurious diet. As their wants were few, their labour could always supply them with the means of subsistence. Besides, they enjoyed a degree of health unkiaown to those who live in ease and abundance. Their desires were confined to the preservation of their existence, and their health ; without any ambition to change the state in which fortune had placed them, or the wish to ameliorate their condition. Content with what they possessed, they desired nothing more; living without care, sleeping without anxiety, and dying without fear. We might call them happy, if happiness consists in an exemption from those troubles which follow in the train of imaginary wants ; and the remembrance of these good people, whose happiness I have often envied, has always led me to think, that three-fourths of mankind are miserable from their own fault j having the means of being happy in their power, if they would regulate their expense by their income, every one according to his means. The necessaries of life consist of food and clothes ; but by necessaries, we commonly un- derstand superfluities, which so far from being essential to the preservation of health and life, are, on the contrary, often injurious to them, and tend to shorten our days. We can REBELLION OF 1745. 251 only be happy while contented with our situa- tion, and while we proportion our expenses to our income, which every one may do, from the highest ranks, to those in the condition of Sam- uel, extirpating ambition and avarice as scourges that incessantly torment us with imaginary wants ; for the more honours and riches we ob- tain, the more insatiable and avaricious we be- come, without being more happy. Enviable mediocrity ! it is in thy bosom that true happi- ness is usually to be found ; for then our mind is necessarily withdrawn from noisy pleasures. Besides the poverty of our fare, to which I had a good deal of difficulty to accustom myself^ we were frequently alarmed by detachments of English cavalry, making tlieir appearance in our neighbourhood. Samuel had a married daughter, who lived at the entrance into the glen, and she served as a sentinel to inform us when there were any English detachments at Cortachie. This tranquillised us during the day, for our sentinel was very exact in acquainting us with every thing that passed ; but when the troops arrived in the evening, we were obliged to consult our safety by escaping to the neighbouring mountains, where we frequently passed nights in the open air, even during dreadful tempests of wind and rain. One day our sentinel, who was always atten- tive and alert, came to inform us that various detachments were hovering round our quarters, and that they had taken Sir James Kinloch, his brothers, and several other persons, who were in Qô'2 :memoirs of the his castle, prisoners ; and that Mr. Ker, fbrmerly a colonel in the service of Spain, and an aide-de- camp of Prince Charles, had been likewise taken, about four miles from us, near the little town of Forfar. She added, that a party had searched all the castle and environs of Cortachie, in hopes of finding Lord Ogilvie, who was not then far from us, as his Lordship since informed me, without our knowing it at the time ; that the same party had received information of our re- treat in Glen-Prossen, and that we ran great risk of being soon taken prisoners. We immediately held a council, and as there was no longer any safety for us in Glen-Prossen, oa account of the detachments with which we were continually surrounded, we unanimously agreed to quit Samuel's next morning at three o'clock, to re- turn to the Highlands, and fix our abode for some time amongst the rocks ; having no other resource left us. In consequence of our decision, we went to bed at eight o'clock in the evening, in order to lay in a stock of sleep, before our departure, as we could have no hopes of sleeping under a roof for some time to come. I never gave credit to the stories of superna- tural interference, which abound in every coun- try, and with which men are deceived from their infancy. These stories are generally the creation of over-heated imaginations, of superstitious old women, or of disordered intellects. This night, however, I had so extraordinary and so incom- prehensible a dream, that if any other person had related it to me, I should have treated him REBELLION OF 1745. 253 as a visionary. However, it was verified after- wards, to the letter ; and I owe my life to the circumstance of my having been so struck with it, incredulous as I was, that I could, not resist the impressions which it left upon my mind. I dreamed, that, having escaped the pursuits of my enemies, and being in the complete enjoy- ment of the satisfaction of seeing myself out of danger, and in a situation of the most perfect security, with a serene and quiet mind, — in short, the happiest of men, having escaped a death on the scaffold, and being at the end of my troubles and sufferings, I happened to be at Edinburgh, in the company of Lady Jane Doug- las, sister of the Duke of Douglas, to whom I was relating every thing that had occurred to me since the battle of Culloden, and detailing all that had taken place in our army, since our retreat from Stirling, with the dangers to which I had been personally exposed, in endeavouring to escape a death on the scaffold, the idea of which haunted me incessantly, up to that happy moment which poured into my soul the salutary balm of the sw^eetest tranquillity. When I awoke, at six o'clock in the morning, this dream had left such a strong impression on my mind, that I thought I still heard the soft voice of Lady Jane Douglas vibrating in my ears. All my senses were lulled in a state of profound calm, while I felt, at the same time, a serenity of soul, and tranquillity of mind, to which I had been a stranger since the fatal epoch of our mis- fortunes. All the particulars of my dream were 254< MEMOIRS OF THE present in my imagination, and deeply engraven on my memory ; and my mind remained a long time in that state of flattering, sweet, and mild repose, in which my dream had left it, from the idea of having eifected my escape. I remained in my bed, absent and buried in all manner of reflections, my head leaning on my hand, and my elbow supported on my pillow, recapitulating all the circumstances of my dream, regretting that it was only a dream, but wishing to have such dreams frequently, to calm the storms and agitations with which my soul was devoured from the uncertainty of my fate. What situation can be more cruel, than that of a continual oscilla- tion between hope and a despair a thousand times worse than death itself? In the certainty of a visible and inevitable punishment, we make up our minds to it with firmness and resignation. I had passed an hour in this atittude, motion- less as a statue, when Samuel entered to tell me, that my companions had set out at three o'clock in the morning, and to acquaint me with the place in the mountains where I should find them. He added, that he had been twice at my bed-side to awaken me, before their departure, but seeing me fast asleep, he could not find in his heart to disturb me, convinced of the need I had of fortifying myself by repose, for the fa- tigues I must undergo in the mountains. He told me to rise without delay, as it was time to depart ; for his daughter, who would suppose we had already left his house, might not be exact REBELLION OF 1745. Q5.5 in informing us of the arrival of detachments. I answered in a composed and serious tone, ** Samuel, I am going to Edinburgh." Poor Sam- uel stared at me, and with a foolish and asto- nished air exclaimed, " My good Sir, excuse me, are you right in your head?" — " Yes," replied I; *' my head is perfectly sound : I am going to Edinburgh, and I shall set out this very evening: go and inform your daughter that I am still here, that she may continue her usual watch, and let me know if any military arrive at Cortachie in the course of the day." Samuel began to tire me with his remonstrances; but I imposed silence by telling him, once for all, that it was a thing decided upon, and that it was useless to speak to me anymore on the subject. No day ever seemed so long to me. My mind was a prey to all manner of reflections, and impatience and fear agitated me. by turns. The detachments of soldiers ; the fanatical zeal of the peasantry, an evil still greater than that of the soldiers ; the towns and, villages I had to pass through, all filled with Calvinists, bitter enemies of the house of Stuart ; the risk which I should be obliged to run, in applying to the boatmen to cross the arm of the sea ; in short, a thousand gloomy ideas crowded on my mind ; the dangers were magnified in my eyes, and I trembled at the idea of the dreadful difficulties which I had to overcome ; but still nothing could shake my resolution of going to Edin- burgh, or perishing in the attempt. I always 256 MEMOIRS OF THE concluded with saying to my self i as if I had been in conversation with some body, " Well, then, I must perish ! But it is the same thing to me, whether I am taken in going to the south, or in the Highlands, there is danger every where ; and if I can only reach Edin- burgh, I shall be safer there than in the High- lands, where I have neither relations nor friends, and where all my acquaintances are of recent date. If I am taken, my fate will be soon de- cided, and I shall not be obliged to languish a long time in the utmost misery ; to which I must make up my mind, if I betake myself to the mountains ; and, after all, perhaps, that will not save me from ending my days on the scaffold." Such were my reflections : I could assign no better reasons for the resolution I had adopted, of advancing southward ; for it must be confessed all appearances were against me : but my head was so filled with my dream, that if all the world had endeavoured to dis- suade me from my purpose, it would have been unavailing. At length the night arrived, which I had so impatiently waited for. I mounted on horse- back with Samuel behind me, who consented to be my guide to the first arm of the sea, eight miles from Cortachie. There is a small town, called Forfar, one of the most famous for Pres- byterian fanaticism, and the inhabitants had lately signalized their holy zeal by contributing to arrest Colonel Ker. Samuel informed me REBELLION OF 1745. 2.57 that we should be obliged to pass through this infernal town, as there was no other road to Broughty, a village on the shore of the first arm of the sea, where all the roads to the south centre. I therefore left Samuel, late in the evening, in order to pass through that execrable town whilst its worthless inhabitants were buried in sleep. The moment we entered this abomin- able place, a dog began to bark, and frightened poor Samuel, who was at bottom an honest man, though naturally a coward and poltroon. Seized with a panic terror, he lost his senses, and en- deavoured, by every possible means, to throw himself from his horse, and take to his heels ; but I seized fast hold of the skirts of his coat, and kept him on horseback, in spite of all his efforts to disengage himself, lest the terror which had deprived him of the use of his reason should actually induce him to run away, and leave me in the most perplexing of all situations, though, when cool, no man was more disposed to serve me. I was totally unacquainted with the coun- try ; and I should not even have been able to find my way back to Cortachie, without askirg at every village, and thus exposing myself to be taken prisoner by a vile rabble. He was con- tinually struggling to get down, but I prevented him by the hold I had of his coat. 1 exhorted him to be quiet ; I reproached him ; I alter- nately entreated and menaced him ; but all in vain. He no longer knew what he was about, and it was to no purpose I assured him that it was s 258 MEMOIRS OF THE only the barking of a dog. He heard nothing that I said, and was completely beside himself. He perspired at every pore, and trembled like a person in an ague. Fortunately I had an ex- cellent horse. The day after the battle of CuU loden, when I was opposite the castle of Mac- pherson of Clunie, the jade which had saved me from the field of battle being ready to sink un- der me, and no longer able to stand upon its legs, I met Lady Macpherson in the high-road, who told me that seven or eight gentlemen had just abandoned their horses near the place where we were, in order to escape on foot to the mountains. I took one of the best of them. I now clapped spurs to my horse, and gallopped through Forfar at full speed, to extricate myself as soon as possible from this troublesome crisis, retaining, always, fast hold of his. coat. As soon as we were fairly out of the town, as no persons had come out of their houses, poor Samuel began to breathe again. When he came to himself, he made a thousand apologies for his fears, and promised me, upon his word, that he would never allow himself to get into such a plight again, whatever might happen. When day began to appear, I alighted from my horse, which I offered as a present to Samuel, being no longer able to keep him, on account of the passage of the ferry, from which we were still about four miles distant j but Samuel refused to take him, saying, that his neighbours, seeing him in possession of a fine REBELLION OF 174.5. 259 horse, would immediately suspect that he had received him from some rebel, whom he had as- sisted in effecting his escape ; that they would immediately inform against him ; that he should in consequence be prosecuted, and the horse being an evidence, he should infallibly be sen- tenced to be hanged. I took off" the saddle and bridle, which we threw into a draw-well, and we drove the horse into a field at some dis- tance from the road, in order that those who found him might take him for a strayed horse. We had great difficulty in getting quit of this animal, for he followed us for some time like a dog. We had not walked a quarter of an hour, af- ter giving liberty to my horse, when we fell in with a friend of Samuel, who questioned him a great deal as to the place to which he was going, what his business was, and who I was. Samuel answered, without the least hesitation, (which I hardly expected, after the adventure of the dog at Forfar,) " I am going to bring home a calfi which I left to winter in the Low Country last autumn ; and as to the young man with me, as he was without bread, I have taken him out of cha- ritv, and he serves me for his victuals. I intend sending him back with the calf, whilst I go my- self to Dundee to buy a cow, to help to support my family with during the summer." As there happened to be an ale-house very near, the two friends agreed to have a bottle of beer together, and I was obliged to accompany them. I showed s 2 i2t)0 MEMOIRS OF THE such respect for my new master, that I did not venture to sit down beside him, till he invited me. The friend of Samuel pressed me to par- take of their small-beer, which tasted for all the world like physic ; but Samuel excused me, ex- tolling so much my sobriety and good character that his friend was incessantly showing me a thousand little attentions, expressing a wish, from time to time, to find a lad like me on the same terms ; and 1 thought I could perceive a secret desire in him to entice me from SamuePs service to his own. After they had swallowed a considerable quantity of beer, they left the ale-house, and separated, to my great pleasure ; for I was not only frequently very much em- barrassed in playing the part which Samuel had assigned me, but also tired to death of their stu- pid jargon. Scarcely had this man left us, when Samuel whispered in my ear that he was one of the greatest knaves and cheats in that part of the country, and famous for his villainy ; that if he had found out who I was he would have undoubtedly sold me ; and that the mere wish to obtain possession of my watch and purse would have been a sufficient inducement for him to have betrayed me, and brought me to the gallows. I was the more astonished at what Samuel told me, as, from their conversation, which was full of assurances of mutual esteem, I had not a doubt on my mind that they enter- tained for each other the most sincere friend- ship. I bestowed great praise, on this occasion, REBELLION OF 1745. . 261 on the prudence and discretion of iny new master. Artifice, liypocrisy, and the art of deceiving, which has been very improperly called policy, are commonly supposed to be found only in the courts of princes, the only schools for learn- ing falsehood and dissimulation ; but I saw as much finesse and duplicity in the false assurances of friendship and compliments of these two peasants, whilst they were drinking their beer, and I was as completely a dupe in this case, as I was afterwards in a conversation, at which 1 happened to be present, between two noblemen of the first rank. * The one was my particular friend, and the other ambassador at a court where he had promised, and where he had it in his power, to be of essential service to my friend, then outlawed and exiled from his native country, if he had been so inclined. These two person- ages embraced each other with an air of cor- diality, said a thousand flattering things to each other, and repeatedly expressed the strongest assurances of mutual friendship ; but the mo- ment the ambassador had terminated his visit and taken his departure, my friend informed me, that they cordially detested each other. When I reproached him with having acted a part un- worthy of a riian of honour and a gentleman, he replied, that he only wished to pay the ambas- * The Duke de Mirepoix, then ambassador at the court of London, and Lord Ogilvie, now Earl of Ahly. — Author. S 3 ^(J2 MEMOIRS OF THE sador in his own coin. Falseliood is to be found in the heart of man, whatever rank he may hold in the world ! This depravity of" sentiment is not to be found in the brute creation. Still, how- ever, the pantomime of these two lords would have less easily deceived me, from the opinion generally entertained of the duplicity of cour- tiers, than that which was acted by these two peasants. In the one case we lay our account with finding falsity and dissimulation, and in the other we expect to find rustic simplicity. A dog never fawns on the person whom he in- tends to bite : these cursed qualities are reserved for the human race alone. Falsehood lowers a man beneatli liis natural condition, and debases and degrades him below that of the beasts of the field ; and, unfortunately, it is to be found both in the heart of him who is born to govern a kingdom, and in that of the humble peasant. About nine o'clock in the morning, being within a distance of half a league from the ferry, without knowing as yet how I could pass it, to whom I should apply for assistance, or where to find an asylum till a favourable opportunity should present itself for crossing over, I asked Samuel if he knew of any gentleman in the neighbourhood of Broughty, not hostile to the House of Stuart, but who had not been in our army. " That I do,'* said Samuel; *' here is the castle of Mr. Graliam, of Duntroon, who answers precisely to your description. His two nepiiews were in your army, but he remained quiet at REBELLION OF 1745. 203 home, without declaring himself." 1 did not know Mr. Graham, never having seen him, but I had frequently heard my sister Hollo speak of him, his niece having been the companion of Lady Rollo, her mother-in-law. Mr. Graham was of a very ancient family, a branch of that of the Grahams Dukes of Montrose, and he was one of those who had taken up arms in favour of the House of Stuart, in the year 1715. Having then very little property, after that unfortunate adventure, he entered into the service of the English East India Company, and attained to the command of one of their ships ; by which means he acquired a considerable fortune, and raised his family. I immediately dispatched Samuel to Mr. Graham, to inform him, that he had brought an unfortunate gentleman near his house, who wished very much to speak to him. Samuel soon returned, and told me, that Mr. Graham had ordered him to conduct me into one of his inclosures, where there was very high broom, and where he would soon join me. Mr. Graham joined me accordingly without delay. I told him who I was, and earnestly entreated him to procure me a boat in order to pass the ferry at Broughty, as from his vicinity to it, he must certainly be acquainted with all the inhabitants on whom any reliance could be placed. He re- plied, that it would give him the greatest plea- sure to have it in his power to be useful to me j that he knew my sister Rollo, whom he had s 4 ^64? MKiMOIRS OF THE even very lately seen at the castle of Lord Hollo ; and after a thousand apologies for not daring to take me to his castle, on account of his servants, of whose fidelity he was not assured, he told me that he would instantly send to Broughty for a boat. He asked me, at the same time, what I wished for breakfast. I answered, that, after passing seventeen days with Samuel upon oat- meal and water, he could send me nothing that could come amiss, and to which 1 should not do justice from my appetite. He left me, and soon after sent me his gardener, in whose fidelity he could confide, with new^aid eggs, butter, cheese, a bottle of white wine, and another of beer. I never ate with so much voracity : 1 devoured seven or eight eggs in a moment, with a great quantity of bread, butter, and cheese. Mr. Graham returned to the inclosure ; but finding me drowsy he soon left me, with an as- surance that he should immediately send to Broughty, to engage boatmen to transport me to the other side- of the Frith, in the course of the night. It was then about eleven o'clock in the morning, and delightful weather, in the month of May : having dismissed Samuel, with a gratification beyond his hopes, I lay down among the broom, which was at least four feet high, and slept till one o'clock, when I was agreeably woke by Mr. Graham, with the pleas- ing intelligence that he had engaged boatmen to carry me across the Frith, about nine o'clock in the evening. 2 REBELLION OF 1745. ^65 Mr. Graham asked me what I wished to have for dinner, enumerating to me the various good things in his house, all of which appeared ex- quisite to one who had undergone such a rigorous Lent. at SamuePs. Among other things, he mentioned a piece of beef, and I begged he would send me nothing else. Although it was not more than three hours since I had eaten plentifully, I felt my stomach already empty, and I devoured the beef, which seemed more delicious to me than any thing I had ever before tasted. I was well entitled to make an ample repast on this occasion, as I was uncertain whether I should have an opportunity of making •such another for a long time. Mr. Graham returned immediately after dinner, bringing with him a bottle of excellent old claret, which we drank together, and after which I felt my- self sufficiently strong and courageous to attempt any thing. He then communicated to me the arrangements which he had made. At five o'clock precisely, I was to climb over the wall of the inclosure, at a place which he pointed out to me, where I should see the gardener with a sack of corn upon his back, whom I was to follow at some distance, till he entered a windmill, when_ an old woman would take the place of the gardener, whom I was next to follow, in the same manner, to the village of Broughty, whither she would conduct me. Mr. Graham kept me company till four o'clock, when he took his leave, after embracing me and wishing 266 MEMOIRS OF THE me success. I regulated my watch by his, that I might be exact in the appointment with the gardener. I had still an hour to remain in the inclosure, which, in my impatience, appeared extremely long and tedious. I kept my watch constantly in my hand, counting every minute, till the hand touched five, when I began to follow the directions of Mr. Graham. I had no difficulty in discovering the gardener, with the sack of corn on his back, but I was very much at a loss to distinguish the right old woman, among three or four who happened to pass by the mill at the very moment the gardener entered it, and I did not know, therefore, whom I ought to follow, till mine, seeing my embarrassment, made a sign with her head, which I understood perfectly well. As soon as we arrived at the top of the hill, above the village of Broughty, she stopt to inform me that she would go by herself to see if all was ready, and enjoined me to wait for her return in the road where she left me. Broughty is situated at the foot of a hill, on the sea-side, and is not visible till we reach the top of that hill, from which the road descends obliquely to the village. The sun was just going down when the good woman left me j and having waited more than half an hour for hei', in the road, my impatience induced me to quit the road and advance five or six paces into a ploughed field, to approach the brink of the hill, where I lay down in a furrow, in order REBELLION OF 1745. 267 that I miglit perceive her as soon as she began to ascend the hill on her return. I had not been above five minutes there, watching for the old woman, when I heard a movement, and saw a head, which I took at first for hers ; but having distinguished the head of a horse, I lay down, as before, flat on the ground, with my face towards the road, where I saw eight or ten horsemen pass in the very place which I had quitted. They had scarcely passed when the old woman, who followed them closely, arrived, quite out of breath. I immediately rose and approached her, *' Ah !" said she, in a transport of joy, and trembling as if she had a fit of the ague, •' I did not expect to find you here." I begged her to calm herself, and take breath, not knowing at first what she alluded to j but as soon as she had somewhat gained her compo- sure, she explained to me the cause of her alarm. She said, that the horsemen whom I had seen pass, were English dragoons, who had been searching the village with such strictness, and making use of such threats, that they had frightened the boatmen whom Mr. Graham had engaged to carry me over, so that they abso- lutely refused to perform their engagement. I censured her a little for her imprudence and thoughtlessness, in not acquainting me that the dragoons were in the village j for I had not only run the risk of being carried ofi' by this detachment, if 1 had not, by mere chance, quitted the highway, where she told me to wait 268 MEMOIUS OF THE for her, but I was tempted several times, from my impatience at her stay, to go down to the village ; which I should certainly have done, if I had known the situation of the ale-house in Broughty, or could have found it without asking for it from door to door : I should thus have thrown myself into the lion's mouth, through the folly and stupidity of this woman, who nearly brought me to the scaffold. What situ- ation is so distressing as that in which our lives depend on the discretion of weak people! She told me that, on entering the public-house to find the boatmen, she was so much alarmed, on seeing it filled with soldiers, that she lost all presence of mind, and no longer knew what she was about. At a time when I began to think my escape half secured by the certain passage of this arm of the sea, the refusal of the boatmen was a dreadful disappointment to me. I entreated the old woman to conduct me to the house where the boatmen were ; but she had no inclination to return, and excused herself, as she said it was quite useless to go, for the boatmen had been so intimidated by the menaces of the soldiers that they would not carry me over that night for all the money in the world ; and concluded by in- forming me, that my wisest plan was to return to Mr. Graham's, who would find means to conceal me till the following night, when the boatmen would have recovered from their alarm. I could not endure the idea of measurtng back my steps ; and when I reflected that 1 was REBELLION OF 1745. !2()9 now on the shore of that very arm of the sea which had caused me so much uneasiness, and to arrive at which had been so ardently desired by me ; that it was the most difficult to pass, on account of its proximity to the mountains, and the detachments of dragoons who were constantly patrolling in its vicinity ; and that if I were so disposed I could overcome this difficulty, — I became more and more de- termined to advance, hoping to gain them over either by money or by fair words. I therefore assured the old woman that a more favourable opportunity than the present could never occur, as the dragoons, having discovered no trace of any rebels, would not think of examining the village a second time the same night. At length she yielded to my entreaties, and consented, though with" some repugnance, to conduct me to the village. As soon as I entered the public-house, the landlady, who was called Mrs. Burn, whispered in my ear that I had notliing to fear in her house, as her own son had been in our army with Lord Ogilvie : this I considered as a very good omen. She immediately pointed out to me the boatmen who had promised to Mr. Graham to transport me to the other side of the Frith. I applied to them immediately, but found them trembling and alarmed at the threats of the soldiers. All my offers, my prayers, and solicitations were of no avail ; and having em- ployed half an hour in endeavouring to per- $^70 MEMOIRS OF THE siiade them to no purpose, I perceived that the two daughters ot" Mrs. Burn, who were as beautiful as Venus, and the eldest of whom was hardly eighteen, were not objects of indifférence to the boatmen, from the glances they bestowed upon them from time to time. I therefore quitted the stupid boatmen, and attached my- self to these two pretty girls, with the view of gaining them over to my interest, and availing myself of their influence with the boatmen, as a mistress is naturally all-powerful with her lover. I caressed them, I embraced them, the one after the other, and said a thousand flattering and agreeable things to them. Indeed, it cost me very little to act this part, for they were exceed- ingly beautiful ; and the compliments I paid them were sincere and flowed from the heart. As I had resolved to sleep at Mrs. Burn's in case I did not succeed in crossing the Frith, I dismissed the old woman. In less than half an hour my two beauties were entirely in my interest, and each of them made a vigorous assault on her sweetheart, making use of all manner of prayers and en- treaties, but with as little success as I had had. The fear of these stupid animals was more powerful than their love. The beautiful and charming Mally Burn, the eldest of the two, disgusted, at length, and indignant at their obstinacy, said to her sister, " O, Jenny ! they are despicable cowards and poltroons. I would not for the wodd that this unfortunate gentle- REBELLION OF 1745. 271 man was taken in our house. I pity his situation. Will you take an oar ? I shall take another, and we will row him over ourselves, to the eternal shame of these pitiful and heartless cowards." Jenny consented without hesitation. I clasped them in my arms, and covered them, by turns, with a thousand tender kisses. I thought, at first, that the generous resolution of these girls would operate upon their lovers ; but the unfeeling cowards were not in the least moved. They preserved their phlegm, and al- lowed the charming girls to act as they pleased, witliout being in the smallest degree affected by their conduct. Seeing the obstinacy of the boatmen, and wishing to take advantage of the offer of my female friends, I immediately took the two oars on my shoulders, and proceeded to the shore accompanied by my two beauties. I launched the boat, and, as soon as we had all three entered, I pushed it into deep water, and taking one of the oars myself, I gave the other to one of the girls, who was to be relieved by the other, when she found herself fatigued. I experienced, on this occasion, the truth of the maxim, that every kind of knowledge may be useful. While I was in Russia, where parties of pleasure on the water are frequent, I used some- times to amuse myself with rowing ; little think- ing then that I should one day be obliged to row for my life. We left Broughty at ten o'clock in the even- ing, and reached the opposite shore of this arm â7ê mi:mo[Us of the of the sea, which is about two miles in breadth, near midnight. The weather was fine, and the night was sufficiently clear, from the light of the stars, to enable me to distinguish the roads. My two beauties landed with me, to put me in the highway that leads to St. Andrew's ; and I took leave of them, deeply affected with their generous sentiments and lieroic courage, experiencing a sensible regret on quitting them, when I thought that perhaps I should never see them more. I embraced them a thousand times by turns, and as they would not consent to receive any pe- cuniary gratification, I contrived to slip ten or twelve shillings into the pocket of the charming Mally, who was one of the most perfect beauties nature ever formed, with an elegant shape, and possessed of all the graces of her sex. Under any other circumstances, they would have tempted me to prolong my stay in their village ; and if fortune had ever permitted me to return to my native country, I should certainly have gone to Broughty, for the express purpose of visiting them. I could never form beforehand any fixed plan with respect to what I should do, or what road I should take. A thousand obstacles, difficult to surmount, sprung up at every step, whilst, at the same time, unforeseen circumstances operated in my favour. Always attentive to preserve my coolness and my presence of mind, in order to extricate myself from troublesome and unex- pected dilemmas, and to seize with rapidity the REBELLION OF 1745. QJS favourable conjunctures whicli fortune, equally inconstant in her favour and in her disfavour, might throw in my way, I laid my account with a mixture of toward and untoward accidents, though I was uncertain whether the one or the other would predominate. During my passage, I could not recollect any person of my acquaint- ance in the whole extent of country between the two arms of the sea, as most of the gentle- men of the shire of Fife had taken up arms in favour of Prince Charles *, and were in the same situation with myself. At length I thought of applying to my relation, Mrs. Spence. Our grandmothers were daughters of Douglas Baron of Whittingham, a branch of the house of the Duke of Douglas. She liad an estate in tlie neighbourhood of St. Andrews, and generally resided in that town ; but St. Andrews was always the most fanatical town in all Scotland; famous on account of the assassination, in former times, of Cardinal Beaton, its archbishop. It was full of the accursed race of Calvinists, hypocrites, who cover over their crimes with the veil of religion ; fraudulent and dishonest in their dealings ; who carry their holy dissimu- lation so far as to take off their bonnets to say grace when they take even a pinch of snuff; who have the name of God constantly in their * Mr. Young observes, that the author is mistaken in say- ing "that most of the gentlemen of Fife were in arms in favour of the prince ; for, although the most of them were Jacobites in their principles, few of them joined in this expedition." T 274 MEMOIRS OF THK mouths, and hell in their hearts. No town ever so much deserved the fate of Sodom and Gomorrah. However, 1 resolved to go there ; it was a sea-port, and the hope of being able to iind a passage to a foreign country, through tlie means of Mrs. Spence, was a strong inducement. * I travelled all night ; and when day began to appear I sat down on the banks of a stream to ease my feet, as my toes were bruised, and cut to the very bone, as with a razor, by my coarse peasant's stockings and shoes, t When I pulled * *' The author is mistaken," observes Mr. Young, " in saying that St. Andrews was full of Calvinists, for at that time its inhabitants were in general Episcopalians and Jacobites ; and it is unjust to say that it was they Avho assassinated Cardinal Beaton. They did all that they could to arrest the assassins ; and, again, when Archbishop Sharp was murdered in the neighbourhood of St. Andrews, there was much lamentation in St. Andrews. A number of west- country Whigs were hanged when the Archbishop was assassinated, to appease his manes, as the record bears, though they were not directly concerned in the assassination ; and their friends erected monumental stones over them. Within my memory, their descendants were accustomed to go yearly in great bodies to visit the stones, and repair them, and thereafter to proceed to St. Andrews with the declared intention of destroying a magnificent monument erected over the Archbishop ; but they were always prevented by the townsmen of St. Andrews, who, yearly, about the time that the Whigs were expected, armed themselves, and kept watch night and day while the Whigs were in that country, which surely does not betoken malice against the Episcopals." f Mr. Young thinks, as the distance from Broughty Ferry to St. Andrews is only twelve measured miles, it is no great proof of the author's hardiness, that his feet were on this REBELLION OF 1745. 275 off my shoes to bathe my feet I found them filled with blood. The bathing rendered the pain less violent and intolerable. I remained two hours with my feet in the stream, during which time 1 felt a sweet serenity pervade my whole frame, and a tranquillity of mind, such as I had felt at Samuel's when I awoke from the dream that had induced me to set out for Edin- burgh, though I was worn out with fatigue, and in a condition to excite compassion in the hardest heart. I was perfectly prepared for death, and I invoked the Supreme Being, with great fervour, to take pity on my sufferings, and put an end, at once, to my miserable existence. The aspect of death, however alarming at another time, had then nothing terrible to me ; on the contrary, I looked upon my dissolution as the greatest good that could befall me. I bitterly regretted that I did not meet my fate in the battle of Culloden, where I escaped so narrowly, and envied the fiite of my comrades, who remained dead on the field of battle. The occasion so severely cut, and that he ought in prudence to have withheld the lamentation which it has drawn from him. But it is due to the author to observe, that he lays more stress on the badness of his shoes than on the length of the road. The every-day shoe of a Scotch peasant, the upper part of which is generally as hard, and, from repeated patches, almost as thick as the under, and which is but rarely mollified by hog's lard or train oil, is an accommodation which few persons in any other rank of life would covet. T ^l ^71) MK.AIOIRS OF THE horrible idea of" the hangman, with a knife in his hand, ready to open my body whilst yet alive ; to tear out my heart and throw it into the fire, still palpitating, — the punishment in- flicted on all those who had the misfortune to be taken and condemned, — always haunted my imagination. I could not get rid of the im- pression that I should also be taken ; and the prospect of perishing in this manner on a scaffold, in presence of a cruel and brutal populace, almost tempted me to abridge my days upon the banks of this stream. My life had become a burden to me ; and, in such circumstances, the pleasure of existing seemed to me of very little value. But how wonderful the effects of hope, the least ray of which supports the unfortunate against the strongest evidence of inevitable danger, inspires him with supernatural courage, pours a balm even into mortal wounds, and dis- arms the hand prepared for self-destruction ! Could Providence have given to man a more useful and efficacious source of consolation ? And, fortunately, the wTetched are never slow to embrace the illusions of hope. They see nothing in their projects, except the termination of their misfortunes: on that all their calcul- ations are founded. I implored the Almighty, if it was my fate to perish by the executioner, that he would, at least, prevent me from lan- guishing any longer between life and death, in a cruel state of uncertainty dreadful to bear. REBELLION OF 1745. ^77 I put on my stockings and shoes, and rose to proceed on my way ; but I found I could scarcely stand upright. My stockings and shoes being hardened with blood, as soon as I at- tempted to stir, I felt a pain that cut me to the heart. 1 took them off again, and put my feet once more in the water ; and having soaked my stockings and shoes in the stream for half an hour to soften them, I found myself in a con- dition to walk, and I proceeded on my journey. After an hour's walk, I met a countryman, who told me that I was still four miles from St. An- drews. I flattered myself that he was mistaken ; but I found, in the end, that these four miles were as long as the leagues in the environs of Paris. According to the account of this man, I had travelled ten of these miles since quitting the boat at midnight. I arrived at St. Andrews about eight o'clock in the morning, very much fatigued. It was Sunday, and the streets were filled with people, who stopped me continually to learn news of the rebels. I always answered, that I knew nothing of them, as I had only come from Dundee ; a town almost as fanatical as St. Andrews itself. I enquired for Mrs. Spence's house on entering the town, and having found it, I told her maid-servant that I had a letter for her mistress, which 1 must deliver into her own hands. She conducted me to her chamber, where she was still in bed, and immediately retired. My cousin did not, at first, recollect me under my disguise, but having examined me T 3 ^S 3IEM0IRS OF THE for a moment, she exclaimed, shedding a flood of tears, "Ah! my deai' child, you are inevit- ably lost ! How could you think of coming to St. Andrews, and particularly to a house so much suspected as mine ?'* (She was a Roman Catholic.) * " The mob yesterday,'* added she, " arrested the son of my neighbour, Mr. Ross, who was disguised, like you, as a countryman^ before he had been a quarter of an hour in his father's house ; and he is now actually loaded with irons in the prison of Dundee." I did not expect such a reception ; but I was sensible of the false step I had taken, and very anxious to extricate myself from it* I therefore entreated her to calm herself, as a contrary eon- duct would be the sure means of ruining me, by exciting suspicion in her servants. As soon as she had recovered herself a little, she wrote a letter to her farmer, who lived a quarter of a * " This Mrs. Spens," says Mr. Young, '* must have been the wife of Thomas Spens of Lathallan, as there was not another heritor in Fife of that name. She was the daughter of Sir Robert Douglas of Glenbervie (not ofWhittingham). With the family of Lathallan I have been acquainted ever since I remember any thing ; and I knew all the branches of it^ Nathaniel Spens, the brother of Thomas, was the minister who baptized me. I cannot discover how Johnstone was related to Mrs. Spens. She was not a Roman Ca- tholic, but an honest Episcopal Jacobite, like all her own and her husband's connections. Nathaniel Spens, the minis- ter, resided in Wemyss ; and that had been the reason why Mrs. Spens directed Johnstone to that town, though he does aot mention it/' REBELLION OF 1745. 279 league from the town, requesting him to give me a horse, and conduct me to Wemyss, a vil- lage on the shore of the arm of the sea, which I had yet to cross before reaching Edinburgh, and about ten miles' distance from St. Andrew's. This was precisely what I most desired ; for I was overcome with fatigue, and with the de- plorable state of my feet. She stated in the let- ter to the farmer, that she was sending me to Edinburgh with papers which were urgently wanted, nay, absolutely necessary, for a law-suit, which was to be decided in that city in the course of a few days. I took leave immediately of my cousin, without sitting down in her house, and set off with a little girl, whom she sent to conduct me to her farmer, taking bye-roads through gardens to avoid appearing in the streets of this execrable town. As soon as I was fairly out of the town, the flattering idea of obtaining a horse to Wemyss gave me new force and courage to support my sufferings. 1 delivered the letter to the farmer, and the answer I received from this brute petrified me. *' Mrs. Spence,** said he, *' may take her farm from me, and give it to whom she pleases ; but she cannot make me profane the Lord's day, by giving my horse to one who means to travel upon the Sabbath." I represented to him, with all the energy of which I was master, the neces- sity of having his horse, on account of the law- suit of Mrs. Spence, and the great loss with which any delay in transmitting her papers to T 4 ^80 MEMOIRS OF THE her advocate might be attended ; but all that I could urge had no effect upon him, and he ob- stinately persisted in his refusal. This holy rabble never scrupled to deceive and cheat their neighbours on the Lord's day, as well as other days, nor to shed the blood of such unfortunate gentlemen as they made prisoners in their infernal excursions, though they had done them no harm, and were even unknown to them. These hypocrites, the execration and refuse of the human race, with their eyes con- tinually turned towards heaven, avail themselves of every thing that is sacred, as a mask, by which they may deceive more easily ; and, un- fortunately, the spirit of hypocrisy is to be found equally in all religions. I cannot help entertaining a strong distrust of all those who make an ostentatious display of their zealous observance of the ceremonial part of religion, and of outward devotion. Their actions seldom agree with their professions. True piety has its seat in the heart, and with- draws itself from the regard of the public. I was not afraid of this vermin in the open coun- try or in villages ; for bad and cruel people are always cowardly. These qualities are infallible symptoms of their want of courage. By blowing out the brains of one of the monsters, I should have effected my retreat with the other pistol in my hand, without opposition from any of these cowards j but I confess I was very uneasy REBELLION OF 1745. 281 during the quarter of an hour that I remained in St. Andrews. Frustrated in my hopes of obtaining a horse, I immediately quitted the house of the farmer, without sitting down, and took the road to Wemyss. What a dreadful situation ! The wounds in my feet were so painful as almost to deprive me of respiration. Not knowing any one to whom I could apply in the village of Wemyss, if I should be able to walk these ten miles ; foreseeing the risk 1 should run, of be- ing seized in the public-house where I might pass the night ; in short, not knowing what to do, nor what to make of myself, I fortunately came to a stream, half a league from the infernal town. I went about a musket-shot from the road, and having taken off my shoes and stock- ings, I found the wounds in my feet considerably augmented, and the blood flowing from them in torrents. I bathed my feet in the stream as before, and soaked my shoes and stockings, which were full of blood, but my lameness was not the great- est of my misfortunes. My mind was as much lacerated and tormented as my body. The hopes, in which I had fondly indulged, of receiving an asylum and assistance from my cousin Spence, were vanished into air, and the ten long miles from Broughty to St. Andrews had been tra- velled in vain. In vain I tortured my imagination to find out some resource : I could find none. The castle of Lord RoUo was on the same side of the arm 282 MEMOIRS OF THE of the sea, but it was twenty-five miles to the west- ward of St. Andrews. I was convinced of the friendship of his Lordship, and the good w^ishes of the whole family ; but how was it possible, exhausted with fatigue, and lame as I then was, to get there ? It was several days' journey for me : besides, supposing I should be able to reach it, it was still farther from Edinburgh than the place where I then was. I knew not what to do. However, as I saw no other feasible project, I determined at length to embrace it, and to go there by short journeys, sleeping always in the fields, and avoiding the towns and vil- lages that lay in my way, as much as possible. Whilst my body was worn out with pain and fatigue, and my mind was cruelly agitated and lost in a labyrinth of reflections, I recollected, all of a sudden, a chamber-maid of my mother, married two years before to George Lillie, gar- dener to Mr. Beaton of Balfour, whose mansion was about half a league from the village of Wemyss. As this woman had taken great care of my mother, during a long illness, my father, as a reward for her attachment, was at the ex- pence of the wedding. I knew that Lillie was a Calvinist, and the most furious and extravagant fanatic in that part of the country j but in con- sequence of the kindness which had been shown to him by my family, I was not afraid of any treachery on his part, supposing he should even refuse to render me any service ; and in case he received me into his house, I knew I should REBELLION OF 1745. 283 be quite secure with him. The recollection of Lillie and his wife produced such an instant- aneous effect on me, that I immediately jumped up to walk, without thinking of my stockings and shoes, and without perceiving that I had not sufficiently reposed myself, as it was not above a quarter of an hour since I had sat down. 1 felt no longer either uneasiness or pain. A sect of philosophers maintained, that there are no real pleasures or pains ; and that our different sensations depend on the attention which we fix on our enjoyments or sufferings. It is certain, that, in this moment of absence, I felt no longer the pain in my feet, however violent it was ; but my dream was of short duration. This system of philosophy would be a great blessing to the human race, if it could teach us the art of withdrawing our attention from painful sensations when we please. I had eaten nothing since my repast in the inclosure at Duntroon : Mr. Graham made me fill my pockets with bread and cheese ; but my mind had been too much agitated to allow me to feel hunger. My appetite, however, now returned with my hopes of finding refuge with Lillie, and drawing my bread and cheese from my pocket, I made a hearty meal of it, whilst my stockings and shoes were soaking in the water. My strength and courage returned at the same time j and having rested for a couple of hours, and put paper over the wounds of my feet, to prevent the fHction of my coarse stock- 284 MEMOIRS OF THE ings and shoes, I proceeded on my journey, and walked six miles without stopping. I had now gone half the way from St. Andrews to Wemyss, and 1 had only to walk four miles to reach Balfour. The impatience of my desire to arrive there, made me feel less acutely my fatigue and my pain. I found on my way another stream, where I rested myself, and repeated my former operations with respect to my feet. My toes w ere now in a most wretched condition, bruised and cut to the very bone. The marks of these wounds and bruises will remain on them as long as I live. Indeed, the second toe of my left foot was put quite out of joint by this cruel day. However, my sufferings, poignant as they were, did not prevent me from finishing the remaining four miles to Balfour, and I arrived there about nine o'clock in the evening, with a joy and plea- sure surpassing all imagination. When I found myself within a step of Lillie's house, 1 eagerly seized the door with both hands, to prevent my falling on the ground. My strength was totally- exhausted, and I could not have proceeded one step farther, to escape even the scaffold ; scarcely could my legs support me when I leaned against the door. What an additional strength is given to us by necessity, and the desire to preserve our existence in such a case as mine, and what incredible efforts they enable us to make ! Hav- ing knocked, Lillie opened the door, but did not recognise me in my disguise of a beggar. He said to me several times with impatience and REBELLION OF 1745. S>8,5 evident alarm, " Who are you ? — What is your business ? — Or whom do you want ?" 1 made no reply, but advanced inside of" the door, lest he should shut it in my face. This added to his alarm ; and it was evident that he took me for some robber or housebreaker, for he trembled from head to foot. I asked him if there were any strangers in the house ? His wife, who was sewing near the fire *, knew my voice, and per- ceiving my dress, she called out immediately to her husband, " Good God, I know him ; quick — shut the door!" Lillie obeyed, without far- ther examining me, and following me to the light, also recognised me. I could scarce sup- press a laugh, notwithstanding my pain, at the look of amazement of Lillie, when he recog- nised me under my disguise. Confounded, lost in astonishment, and petrified, he clasped his hands, and with uplifted eyes, exclaimed, " Q, this does not surprise me ! My wife and I were talking about you last night ; and I said, that I would bet any thing in the world that you were with that accursed race." I answered that he was in the right to conclude I was, from the principles of attachment to the house of Stuart in which I had been educated. " But, at pre- sent, my good George," continued I, "you must aid me in escaping the gallows !" * It was Sunday evening, according to the author ; and, as Mr. Young judiciously observes, the occupation of a Calvinist's wife, on such an evening, would hardly he sewino-. 986 MEMOIRS OF THE It was a severe and humiliating trial for Lillie to be obliged, from gratitude, to give an asylum to a rebel, and to find himself under the neces- sity of succouring one of those very men whom he had so loudly condemned ! No one in that neighbourhood had, on all public occasions, held forth with more zeal and eloquence against the Pope and the Pretender, who were always coupled together. He was, however, an honest man, notwithstanding his fanatical principles. He assured me that he was deeply affected with my situation, and would do every thing in his power to save me, and to procure me a passage to the other side as soon as possible. Finding that I was utterly lielpless, and incapable of stirring either leg or arm, Lillie and his wife took ofï' my shoes and stockings ; and as all the gardeners in Scotland have an empirical know- ledge of medicine, Lillie having bathed my feet with whiskey, which made me suffer the most ex- cruciating pain, afterwards applied a salve to them. They then drew on a pair of Lillie's stockings and slippers ; after which, I found myself relieved, and quite a new person. I sent Lillie with my compliments to Mr. Bea- ton, his master, begging him not to take it amiss if his gardener should not be at his work at the usual hour, as I was concealed in his house, and had need of his services. Mr. Beaton sent back Lillie immediately to tell me, that he was ex- ceedingly sorry that he could not wait upon me in person, as he had been unwell for some time REBELLION OF 1745. ^S'J past, and was just then going to bed ; that it was also out of his power to offer me a bed in his house, where I would have been more con- veniently lodged than at Lillie's ; but that he begged me most earnestly to send freely to him for whatever I might have occasion for. He wished that Lillie should take with him some wine, fowls, and other articles ; but whatever desire Lillie might have that I should fare well in his house, he very prudently refused this offer, lest, as he told me, it should have excited a suspicion amongst the servants of Mr. Beaton, that he had some person concealed in his house. I praised Lillie very much for his prudence and discretion. Mrs. Lillie soon prepared a dish of steaks for my supper, which I devoured in haste, as I had more inclination to sleep than to eat, having been two days and nights on my legs, and with- out any sleep, except during the few hours I passed in the inclosure of Mr. Graham. Lillie having undressed me, carried me to bed in his arms, as it was utterly impossible for me to put a foot to the ground. I slept without waking from ten o'clock that evening, till half past nine on the following evening as Mrs. Lillie took particular care not to make the least noise, nor would she even wake me, to receive the visit of Mr. Beaton, who had called on me. As nothing restores an exhausted frame so much as sleep, the most precious gift of Heaven in the hour of suffering and distress, I found ^288 MEMOIRS OF THE myself greatly refreshed, and in all respects well, excepting that I suffered greatly from my feet. Mrs. Lillie had a fowl ready to put to the fire as soon as I awoke, and I ate it in bed. Lillie took off the dressing which he had ap- plied to my feet, and replaced it by another. He told me that his mother-in-law kept a pub- lic-house in the village of Wemyss, much fre- quented by fishermen, and perhaps she would be able to procure some person of her acquaint- ance to carry me across the arm of the sea; and he proposed that I should accompany him to her house, if I were in a condition to walk. I was not sorry that in his desire to get rid of me he was as eager that I should escape as I was my- self. He offered me a horse on the part of Mr. Beaton ; but, before accepting it, I wished to try my strength, and see whether I could perform the journey on foot. Having risen, I walked round the room, supported on his arm, and I found I could do without the horse. Mrs. Lillie had, while I slept, been so good as to cut off the feet of my coarse stockings, and to put stuff soles to them ; but I still suffered much from my feet. We set out about half past ten o'clock at night, and I walked with difficulty ; suspended rather than resting on the arm of Lillie, he dragged me after him ; but the hope of finding an opportu- nity to cross this arm of the sea, and reaching Edinburgh, made me endure a pain, which, at any other time, would have appeared insupportable. REBELLION OF 1745. 289 Whilst we were on the road, I said to him, jo- cularly, " My good Lillie, if I should actually be taken in your company, what a figure you would cut! You would never dare to show your face again in any of your holy assemblies : your reputation as a good Calvinist would be blasted for ever." He heaved a deep sigh, and exclaimed, " Ah ! Sir, do not speak of that.'* I burst into a laugh, and continued, — " It is true, Lillie, you would not be embowelled alive like me ; but your character would be lost for ever with your brethren.'* I amused myself during the road with similar observations, and I had the pleasure of remarking, that he con- sidered his honour as every way engaged, and that he would try every means to procure me a passage, as much from the fear of my being dis- covered along with him, as from the wish of making a merit of it with my family. When we arrived at the house of his mother- in-law, she told us, that of all the fishermen of Wemyss, she knew no one on whom we could rely, except a person of the name of Salmon ; adding, that he was a very zealous Calvinist, and a violent enemy of the house of Stuart, but in other respects an honest man, and much dis- tinguished in the village for his probity and good conduct. She thought we might apply to him with perfect safety ; as, in case he should not be disposed to serve us, he was too Konest a man to do us any injury. u 290 MEMOIRS OF THÉ We went immediately to Salmon's. It was about midnight ; and we found him already up, and preparing his nets to go out a fishing. As he knew Lillie*s voice he opened the door to us. Lillie, after considerable struggles with himself, at length broke silence, and, in a plaintive tone of voice, and with an air of humility, shame, and embarrassment, said, — *' My friend Salmon, this is the only son of the mistress of my wife. He has been imprudent and foplish enough to join that accursed race who seek to destroy our religion and enslave us. You see, my friend, the dreadful situation to which he has brought himself! Every body knows the kindness which his family showed to my wife and me at our marriage. I honour and respect them ; and I am much afraid, if he should be taken, that he would cause the death of both mother and father, for they are greatly attached to him, he being their only son. I come, my friend Salmon, to entreat you, with uplifted hands, to give him a passage to-morrow in your boat, when you go to Leith to sell your fish.'* The pathetic manner in which Lillie spoke to Salmon gave me much pleasure; but the answer, pronounced in a rough tone, by no means pleased me, and left me little hopes of success. " You^ deserve, indeed," said Salmon, " to have your life saved ! you, who wished to abolish our holy religion, destroy our liberties, and make all of us slaves ! No, Lillie, he applies to the wrong person, when he comes to me. I will do him REBELLION OF 1745. Î^Ql no harm ; I am not capable of informing against him ; he is in perfect safety in that respect ; but he must not expect that I should ever do any service to him, or any other of the accursed race of rebels." I offered him all the money which I still possessed, about six guineas, to convey me over next morning in his boat ; but he would hear no more on the subject. Seeing that he was not to be gained over by money, as he was by no means interested, and that he bore on his countenance the stamp of an honest man, — a much more expressive mirror than his gesture, his language, or even his accent, — I could not think of abandoning my enterprise. I had offered him all my money, without producing the least impression on him. I hoped, however, to gain him over through his feelings. As he kept an ale-house, I asked him to do me at least the pleasure of drinking a bottle of beer with us. He consented, and I did not spare the beer,^ taking glass for glass with them ; without, how- ever, speaking a single word about my passage ; but always attentive to insinuate myself into his good graces, to render him favourable to my wishes. After passing an hour in this way, he turned towards Lillie, and said to him, ** What a pity» that this poor young man should have been debauched and perverted by this worthless rebel crew ! He is a fine lad !'* Lillie artfully took advantage of this favourable indication to drop a word or two in my favour, and observed, u 2 • 292 MEMOIRS OF THE that by that time I heartily repented of what I had done. I pretended not to hear them ; but I saw that my affairs were in an excellent train, and I did not fail to push about the small beer, which was as weak as water. At length I played my part so well, and gained the friendship of Salmon so completely, that this honest man offered me, all of a sudden, a passage in his boat next morning, and would not hear of any money, being actuated merely by a pure and noble feeling of generosity. I had not, indeed, a dif- ficult part to play with poor Salmon, who was a truly virtuous man, highly respected by the whole village, for his pure and upright conduct, as the mother of Mrs. Lillie had represented him to me ; and a virtuous man is never hardhearted, but always susceptible of compassion and hu- manity, for the unfortunate. Virtue always pleases us in whatever class of men we find it, and we are involuntarily predisposed in favour of the possessor. Hence, we are not obliged to do violence to our own feelings, in saying flatter- ing and obliging things to a worthy man, how- ever low his situation in life may be, as we are w^ien obliged to say them to a nobleman of the first rank without merit, whose elevation is the effect of chance. Salmon was only part-owner of the boat, which he shared with several other fishermen, and it was necessary for him to manage matters with his associates. He advised me to conceal my- self in a cavern, which looks towards the sea, at REBELLION OF 174<5. ^93 the distance of a gunshot from Wemyss, till the break of day ; when it was agreed, that, as soon as the fishing-boats returned into the harbour, I should come down, and ask, at the boat in which Salmon was, if they would give me a passage to Leith for money. That he would answer in the affirmative, and then settle with his associates as to the price ; and that if any one in the boat should make objections, he would endeavour to overcome the objections. Salmon and Lillie taught me, at the same time, the peculiarities of the dialect of that part of the country, in which I should speak on the occasion. When I quitted Salmon, I slipped a guinea into his hand, telling him that this was only earnest-money, but he made some difficulty in taking it, observing that I ought to know, that it was not interest that induced him to render me this service. Lillie having accompanied me to the cavern, took leave of me to return home, after offering me an asylum in his house, in case this oppor- tunity should fail. Although I looked upon my passage as certain, I was by no means displeased at the idea of a safe retreat at Lillie's, as it was impossible to foresee what unfortunate accidents might happen. This cavern is one of the most remarkable of the antiquities of Scotland, and, according to tradition, was, in former times, a heathen tem- ple. It is dug under a hill. Its entrance is about five feet high, and three wide ; and the foot of the hill is about thirty paces from the u 3 29 A MEMOIUS OF THE sea-shore. It is very high and spacious within, and appears to be of an immense depth. An adventure, which happened in this cavern to King James the Fourth of Scotland, has gi\:eH celebrity to it. * The King, who used to amuse himself in wandering about the country, in different disguises, was overtaken by a violent storm,, in a dark night, and obliged to take shelter in the cavern. Having advanced some way in it, he discovered a number of men and women ready to begin to a roasted sheep, by way of supper. From their appearance he began to suspect that had not fallen into the best com- pany ; but as it was too late to retreat, he asked hospitality from them till the tempest was over. They granted it, and invited the King, whom they did not know, to sit down, and take part with them. They were a band of robbers and cut-throats. As soon as they had finished their supper, one of them presented a plate, on which two daggers were laid in form of a St, Andrew's cross, telling the King, at the same time, that this was the dessert which they always served to strangers ; that he must choose one of the dag- gers, and fight him whom the company should appoint to attack him. The King did not lose his presence of mind, but instantly seized the two daggers, one in each hand, and plunged * It is called, in allusion to the frolic of King James, the Court Cave — See Statistical Account of Scotland, vol. xvi. p. 531. REBELLION OF 1745. 29«5 them into the hearts of the two robbers who were next him ; and running full speed to the mouth of the cavern, he escaped from their pur- suits through the obscurity of the night. The King ordered the whole of this band of cut- throats to be seized next morning, and they were all hanged. I went a little into the cavern, and, having thrown myself on the ground, I dozed for about an hour; when I was awakened by the most hor- rible and alarming cries that ever were heard. I began, at first, to suspect the fidelity of Salmon, notwithstanding the very favourable opinion that I had formed of him, imagining that this was a detachment of soldiers whom he had sent to take me prisoner. I buried myself in the interior of the cavern, holding a pistol, ready cocked, in each hand, advancing always till I could place my back against the wall, in order that I might be the better able to defend myself. I then began to examine the noise with atten- tion, and from the velocity in the movement of the object which caused the noise, I soon be- came convinced that it did not proceed from men ; and men alone I dreaded at that time ; for sometimes the object was about my ears, and nearly stunned me, and, in an instant, at a considerable distance, moving with an in- credible swiftness and rapidity. At length I ceased to examine any more this horrible and incomprehensible phenomenon ; which made a noise and confusion like that of a number of u 4 296 MEMOIRS OF THE trumpets and drums, with a mixture of different sounds, altogether unknown to me. I approached the entrance of the cavern with- out any further incUnation to sleep ; and when day began to appear I fixed my eyes on the sea to observe the movements of the fishing-boats, which were about a quarter of a league from land. As soon as I saw them enter the harbour, I left the cavern, and followed exactly the lesson that Salmon had given me. Unfortunately for me, his boat had been very unsuccessful, and his associates had obliged him to sell their fish to another boat, having caught so few that it was not worth their while to go to Leith to sell them. I asked, if they would give me a passage to Leith for money ; when Salmon replied, *' Very willingly," and joined^his companions to settle the price with them. They all agreed to take me over for half-a-crown ; upon which I felt an inexpressible pleasure. Having concluded our agreement, I was pro- ceeding to enter the boat, when, that moment, Salmon's wife arrived, swearing and bawling that she would not allow her husband to go that day to Leith, where he had nothing to do, as his boat had sold their fish, especially with a stranger ; there appeared to her something mysterious in the business, which she could not comprehend. What a terrible disappointment ! I cursed this mischievous vixen in my heart, but that availed me nothing ; and Salmon, who was the weaker party, was obliged to submit to REBELLION OF 1745. 297 his wife. I was prudent enough to take no part in their dispute ; fearing, from the suspicions she threw out, lest she might have overheard our conversation in the night, whilst we were drink- ing our beer ; for I was not aware that Salmon was married, and that his wife was sleeping in the room in which we were ; I therefore yielded with a good grace, and with an air of indiffer- ence. Salmon proposed our drinking a bottle of beer together, and I consented ; when mount- ing the stairs, he slipped the guinea into my hand which I had given him, saying, " You see, Sir, I am not the master. I wish, with all my heart, that you may have the good fortune to escape, and I am extremely sorry that I have not the means of contributing to it." I admired the honesty of Salmon 5 for he might not only have kept the guinea, by informing against me, and have got my purse and watch, but also have obtained a considerable reward, which the government paid for every rebel taken prisoner. His generous conduct was so much the more meritorious, as he was a decided enemy of the House of Stuart, and totally unac- quainted with me. Humanity, alone, and a noble soul, made him act towards me with an elevation of sentiment superior to his condition in life. I did not wish to proceed directly to the house of Mrs. Lillie*s mother ; for, as the cursed fish woman had told her suspicions of me before every body, I was afraid of being followed : I 298 MEMOIRS OF THE therefore proceeded along the sea-shore, to re- turn to the cavern, and when I came opposite to the mouth, I looked about me in every direc- tion, and seeing no one, I immediately threw myself into it. I felt a strong desire to discover the cause of the extraordinary noise which had disturbed me so much the preceding night, and of which I could form no idea. I advanced about thirty or forty paces in the dark, having even lost sight of the entrance, when the same loud noise was renewed. On clapping my hands and shouting, the noise increased a thousand- fold, and absolutely stunned me. I even felt the wind caused by the rapid movement of these unknown objects, which incessantly approached quite close to me, as if with an intention to attack me. I drew back till I could see the light from the entrance of the cavern, when I began to clap my hands and redouble my shouts, and then I saw numberless owls and other birds fly out. The terrible noise of these birds can- not be compared to any sounds which I have ever heard. Their screams, and the noise of their wings while flying, were confounded to- gether by the echo of the cavern, and formed together a noise that pierced my very ears ; and the impetuosity of their flight resembled a tem- pest. If I had not coolly and thoroughly ex- amined into the cause of so singular an effect, I should never have known what to think of it ; and, I have no doubt, if a pious hermit had been in my place he would have placed the adventure REBELLION OF 1745. 299 to the account of supernatural agency, and would have given as romantic an account of the miracles and ghosts seen by him, as that of the good Saint Antliony : for enthusiasm is always closely allied to credulity and simplicity. I coolly endeavoured to discover something of which I had no idea, and which I could not comprehend : comparing attentively all the circumstances, I prepared to defend myself with my pistols, should it have been any ferocious animal ; but at that moment I was only afraid of man, as the most wicked and malicious of all animals. I returned to the house of Mrs. Lillie*s mo- ther, after remaining half an hour in the cavern, and told her how I had lost the most favourable opportunity for crossing the arm of the sea, with every posssible appearance of success, through the wickedness of Salmon's wife, after I had made the proper arrangements, with the hus- band ; and I earnestly entreated her to endea- vour to procure some person who would carry me over as soon as possible, at any price. She immediately introduced a person into my room without previously giving me any information repecting him, merely announcing him as an officer of the customs in the service of King George. I imagined she had either lost her senses, or wished to betray me ; but I was still more astonished when she began to tell him, that I had been with Prince Charles. The officer, perceiving my uneasiness, begged me not to be alarmed; adding, that he had been . 300 MEMOIRS OF THE himself in a similar situation in the year 1715 ; that, having lost his property, he was reduced to the cruel necessity of accepting a mean em- ployment under the Usurper, in order to pro- cure a livelihood ; but that his attachment and wishes for the prosperity of the House of Stuart were still the same. Having recovered from my alarm, I asked him if he could recommend me to any honest man who would undertake to convey me across the Frith. He replied, that there was one David Cousselain, sexton of the meeting of Non-jurors, in the village of Wemyss, a very honest man, and zealously disposed to render any service to all who belonged to the party of Prince Charles, and that I could not apply to a better person than to him. He immediately went out in quest of him, and returned with him in a few minutes. Cousselain said, that he would very willingly take one oar, if he could find any one who would join him ; and he proposed conducting me to the house of Mr. Robertson, in the village of Dub- bieside, half a league from Wemyss, in order to borrow his boat. He informed me that Mr. Ro- bertson was secretly attached to the Prince's party, and would do every thing in his power to oblige me. ~ We set off immediately for Dubbieside. Cous- selain cautioned me, as we had two bad villages to pass through in our way, in case any questions were put to me, to call myself John Cousselain, REBELLION OF 1745. 301 weaver in Culross *, the name and trade of Iiis brother, whom nobody knew in that neighbour- hood ; and if they should suspect me for a rebel, he would claim me, and maintain, against all and sundry, that I was actually his brother. I was dreadfully afraid of my new trade of a weaver. When Iwas merely a servant, it was easy for me to act my part, as I had done in the service of Mrs. Menzie, and Samuel ; but if I were arrest- ed on suspicion, and obliged to show that I could work at my new trade of weaver, I knew I should immediately be discovered and ruined without remedy. However there was no trade which suited me better on this occasion. Mr. Robert- son told me, with a smile, that he would not lend me his boat, but that he would willingly permit Cousselain to carry it off, if he could find another person to assist him in rowing me to the other side ; that, as for himself, he did not know one single person in Dubbieside in whom he could confide. He advised me to call on Mr. Seton, a gentleman living in Dubbieside, whose eldest son had been in our army. I did not know the father, but I had been an intimate friend of the son. I was not, however, aware that his father lived in Dubbieside, and I was quite charmed at this discovery, t * In the original Courisse. — This is nearly the French ex- pression of the manner in which Culross is pronounced by the people of that part of Scotland. — There is also a Cires, two or three miles from Cupar, in Fifeshire. f " The Setons of Dubbieside," observes Mr. Young, " were 302 MEMOIRS OF THE Having found Mr. Seton at home, I acquaint- ed him with my name, and my intimacy with his son. He immediately desired me to walk into the parlour, where he tired me to death with a thousand questions, which I knew not what to make of, with a number of abrupt and disjointed observations, receiving me in the cold- dest manner possible, which I could not possibly account for. After harassing me in this manner for half an hour, all of a sudden his son entered the parlour, and clasped me in his arms. He told me, that they had suspected me of being a spy sent to take him prisoner ; and that, though he had examined me for half an hour from head to foot, through a hole in the partition of the room, a near branch of the Setons of Carriston, a respectable though poor family m Fife. They were also engaged in the rebellion. One of them I knew. He was caught and con- demned at Carlisle, but being a boy not above fifteen years of age, was somehow allowed to escape after his condemnation, and never sought after. He died only two or three years ago. These Setons would have been Earls of Winton, being lineally descended from that family, if the last Earl had not been attainted in 1715." It may be here observed that humanity often induced the Scots to go great lengths to save young men whohadbeenin the Rebellion. For instance, Mr. Cruikshanks, the schoolmaster of Dunse, in Berwickshire, went to Carlisle, where he swore that a Mr. Home of Broomhouse, a rebel, was under 16, though it was well known he was above 18. Though oaths were then and still are held in great respect in Scot- land, the conduct of Mr. Cruikshanks (a most respectable man) was seldom spoken of by his neighbours but in terms of applause. REBELLION OF 1745. 303 it was only that instant that he had been able to recognise me under my disguise. 1 was very glad to see young Seton again, particularly as I knew nothing of his fate since the battle of Culloden ; and our pleasure at meeting was reciprocal. There is always a friendship between persons involved in the same misfortunes. He invited me to remain with him at his father's house ; and his offer was the more agreeable to me, as Dubbieside was conveniently situated for my obtaining an opportunity of crossing the arm of the sea. I took a walk every evening to Mrs. Lillie's mother's, in hopes that she would succeed in finding some person humane enough to join Cousselain : but, after a stay of eight days with my friend, at the end of which 1 was not one whit nearer my object than the first day of my arrival, we experienced a great alarm which in- terrupted the happiness that I began to enjoy in the amiable society of Mr. Seton's family. Miss Seton having asked a fishwoman, whilst she was cheapening her fish at the door, if there were any news ? the fishwoman answered, that the general talk was of a rebel, seen hovering every day along the coast as far as Wemyss, and who offered a great deal of money to the fishermen for a passage. She added that he would cer- tainly be caught some day in his excursions. The alarm which this piece of news occasioned us may easily be conceived ; especially as I might have been followed as far as Mr. Seton's without 304 MEMOIRS OF THE my perceiving it. As there was every reason for fearing that Mr. Seaton*s house would be searched immediately, my companion in misfor- tune resolved to quit his father's house the same evening, and take refuge in the house of some friend, whilst I made up my mind to return to Lillie's ; but I was determined to make a last effort, before I left Dubbieside, to cross the arm of the sea that very night. I sent for Cousse- lain who came immediately, and informed me, that, notwithstanding his utmost endeavours, he had not been able to find a single person who would join him. What a deplorable situation ! To be so near Edinburgh, where all my wishes centered, and yet, at the same time, to be on the point of being obliged to remove farther from it, in order to bury myself in the heart of tlie country, and to abandon all thought of crossing the arm of the sea. The idea of retreating instead of advancing threw my mind into the most cruel agitation, and chagrined me beyond measure. Mr. Seton, a younger brother of my friend, a youth of eighteen years of age, who had made some voyages, seeing my distress, and touched with my situation, generously offered to take an oar with Cousselain, to row me across the Frith, which, from Dubbieside to Leith, is about three leagues in breadth. I accepted his obliging offer with gratitude, and at the same time with a determination to avail myself of it, my position excluding every thing like ccremonv. His whole RÉBELLION OF 174-5. 305 family encouraged him in his good and generous resolution ; and we agreed to set out about nine o'clock in the evenino;. Every thing seemed to favour me, and the passage of this arm of tiie sea, which had cost me so much trouble and anxiety, seemed to be placed beyond the reach of accident ; but fortune took a pleasure in raising up new obstacles to my deliverance. The noise which Seton and Cous- selain made in launching the boat alarmed the inhabitants of tlie village, wlio were not yet gone to bed : a cry was immediately heard, in every direction, that a rebel was attempting to escape ; and Seton and Cousselain esteemed themselves fortunate in being able to escape from this hubbub without being discovered. I was quite furious on. learning this unlucky ac- cident. I durst not say any thing to Seton, as it was his kindness alone which had induced him to assist me ; but my rage broke out against Cousselain with double fury. I reproached him bitterly for his stupidity in making so much noise in launcliing the boat, and treated him like a Negro. However, notwithstanding this unfor- tunate beginning, I was still determined to pro- secute the undertaking, and to be present at the operations myself; and with a fortunate obsti- nacy, the more objections were started against repeating the attempt that evening, the more I was determined to make it. Mr. Seton and all his family entreated me to defer the attempt till next night, alleging, that the inhabitants, being X 306 MEMOIRS OF THE alarmed, would be on the look-out the whole night ; and that it was, therefore, morally im- possible for me to succeed. I answered, that it was useless to speak to me on the subject ; that my resolution was decidedly taken ; and that, rather than delay another night, I would embark alone, with an oar in each hand, and commit my- self to Providence ; and I certainly would have done so, however extravagant the attempt might appear, so bent was I on parting, and so enraged at not being able to find a single honest man among the fishermen who would join Cousselain to save my life ; and so convinced, at the s^me time, that I had no better prospect for the period to come. An immoveable firmness in my resolutions has always been very useful to me. I reflected well, before coming to any determination, as to the part I should take, examining with impartiality the reasons for and against any measure, and considering the results which might naturally be expected from it. But, having once decided, no person could ever succeed in making me waver in my resolution, even in cases where there was no alternativ-e but success or death, and where every one was against my opinion. I have always found my account in acting in this manner. Though obstinacy may, generally speaking, be a defect in a man's character, we must know our own affairs better t|ian any other person can ; and being the person chiefly in- terested, our mind exerts itself more to discover REB|:LLrQN OF 1745. 307 the resources of which we are in want. Hence, if we are endowed with good sense and discern- ment, our affairs will be more successfully con- ducted by ourselves than by the counsel of others, who frequently, by their doubts, only shake our confidence in our opinions, and lead us astray. I told Cousselain to hold himself in readiness at ten o'clock, as I wished to make one more attempt; and I gave him some money to purchase the refreshment of which he might be in want for the passage. Cousselain returned at the hour agreed on, but so drunk, that he could hardly stand, having employed the intervening hour to good purpose. Every thing seemed to conspire against me ; 1 cursed and swore, but I was resolved to per- severe. I replied, to the new solicitations that were made me to remain, that Cousselain being required to bring back the boat, he might sleep and become sober during the passage, whilst I rowed with Mr. Seton ; that that was the only inconvenience ; and that I should certainly take my departure that night. I took Cousselain on my back, and stretched him out in the bottom of the boat, which Mr. Seton and I launched without the least noise, and taking eacli of us an oar we began to row with all our strength. As soon as we were about fifty paces from the shore, and safe from any disturbance on the part of the inhabitants, I began to breatlie again, and felt my heart as if relieved from a heavy load. X 2 308 MEMOIRS OF THE All easterly wind arose, which tossed our little boat in a dreadfid manner. Seton was greatly alarmed, and he had good reason to be so ; for had a wave broken against our boat it would have filled it with water, and sunk us. I kept encouraging him always ; though, in any other situation, I should have been as much alarmed as himself; for with every w^ave Vv^e were in the greatest danger of being swallowed up. But I was then afraid only of the scaffold ; and every other danger made a slight impression on me. We had another danger to encounter, besides that of the winds and waves, in the drunken Cousselain, in the bottom of the boat, who wished to rise every moment, and several times nearly overset us, so that we were obliged to kick him most unmercifully in order to keep him quiet ; and to threaten to throw liim over- board, in case he mads the least movement in future : we had no other means of making him listen to reason. Seton and myself rowed like galley-slaves. We succeeded in landing, about six o'clock in the morning, on a part of the coast a league and a half to the east of Edin- burgh. As the Frith gradually widens towards the east, it was at least four or five leagues in breadth where we crossed. I tenderly em- braced young Seton, thanking him, from the bottom of my soul, for the essential services he had rendered me ; and I gave Cousselain, who began to become somewhat sober, a gratification much beyond his hopes. They * re-embarked REBELLION OF 1745. SOQ immediately, to return to Dubbieside, whilst I made all the haste I could from the sea-shore, lest some countryman should have seen me land. No felicity could surpass that which I felt on landing, after surmounting the greatest obstacles to my escape, especially the two arms of the sea, the crossing of which had cost me so much dis- tress and griefi from the disappointments to which I had been continually exposed. I was now within reach of the assistance of my rela- tions and friends. However, it was not without a good deal of pain and difficulty that I suc- ceeded in crossing ; for my hands were nearly in as bad a plight as my feet were in, ten days before, bleeding a great deal, and considerably swelled ; but I did not much mind being lame in my hands for a few days, as I had not so much occasion for them, and my feet were now pretty well recovered. Having landed about a musket-shot from Gladsmuir, where we had ob- tained so brilliant a victory over the'English, and not daring to approach Edinburgh till it was dark, I determined to pass the whole day on the field of battle, in order to tranquillise my mind, and soften a little the rigours of our fate, by reflections on the past. We enjoy agreeable objects, but calamities lead us to reflect. The fortunate man seldom reasons : he alone is dis- posed to meditate who suffers, in order to derive, at least, some useful instruction, from the evils which surround him. Adversity, the X 3 310 MEMOIRS OF THE great teacher of men, renders them wiser, and more prudent ; it ripens the mind ; the reiter- ated blows of misfortune force even frivolity itself to indulge in reflections. While Walking over the field of battle, that spot furnished to me a most striking picture of the vicissitudes of fortune, to which human nature is subject; and I compared my situation in that glorious day, — when I discharged the functions of aide-de-camp to the Prince, carry- ing his orders every where, and charged with the care of thirteen hundred English prisoners, ■ — to my present state, covered with rags, in order to escape the scaffold ; borne down with trouble and distress, and placing my only hap- piness in the hopes of escaping to some foreign country, and abandoning for ever the land which gave me birth, my relations, and friends ; uncertain where I should find an asylum, or how I could procure the means of subsistence. How different the two conditions ! I could not help thinking that Providence had so disposed matters, that we should land near the field of Gladsmuir, having been carried so far eastwards by the ebbing of the tide, rather than in the neighbourhood of Leith, where we intended to land, in order to impress more strongly on my mind those lessons which will never be effaced from it. How much did I then desire to see some of the favourites of the Prince, whom the notice with which they were distinguished had rendered insolent, proud, and impertinent ! I REBELLION OF 1745. 311 imagined I saw them, — mean, servile, and cring- ing, in the now altered state of our affairs. I have seen them since, and 1 find I was not de- ceived in my conjectures ; as theii' behaviour was precisely what I had anticipated. The instability of fortune ought to teach men the importance of preserving consistency of cha- racter. If we do not allow ourselves to be blown up with prosperity, but conduct ourselves always with modesty and respectability, we shall not be cast down or become cringing in adver- sity. Arrogance and vanity are infallible marks of littleness of soul, and never fail to degenerate, in reverses of fortune, into the meanest servility ; whilst a modest; mild, and beneficent man, will never allow himself to descend so low, what- ever revolutions of fortune he may experience : however exalted the elevation from which he may fall, that fall will always be accompanied by the esteem and regret of all good men, and he tN'ill always have the public voice in his favour. When happy, every one wdll rejoice at his good fortune ; and when he experiences re- verses, every one will be eager to console him. In going over thé ground, every step brought to remembrance some particulars of the battle. When I reached the spot where I saw thirteen hundred English prisoners, guarded by eiglity Highlanders, I sat down to dine upon my bread and cheese, and a bottle of Canary wine, which Mr. Seton had made me take at parting. The remembrance of the glorious and incdnceivable X 4 312 MEMOIRS OF THE victory wiiicli we had obtained on this spot added to the extreme pleasure I felt in having passed the arm of the sea. As I was afraid of being recognised, if I went straight to Edin- burgh, I resolved to seek an asylum in Leith, in the house of my old governess, Mrs. Blythe, who had been twenty-two years in the service of my mother, and particularly intrusted wâth the care of me, having received me from my nurse, when only a twelvemonth old. The trouble and uneasiness which she conti- nually experienced on my account, both from the dangerous illnesses to which 1 was subject in my youth, and the passionate, impetuous, and imprudent character which I possessed in com- mon with most only sons, only served to in- crease her kindness and affection for me. She loved me as much as if I had been her own child. Mr. Blythe, the master of a small coast- ing-vessel, who was very rich, took a liking to her, when, she was fifty, and offered her mar- riage ; and the match was too advantageous to Margaret to allow her to hesitate as to the ac- cepting it. It was three years since she had left our house to reside with her husband at Leith, and they lived very happily together. Blythe was a Calvinist, and the sworn enemy of the house of Stuart ; but as he was a man of much probity, I had nothing to fear from him. I therefore quitted Gladsmuir before sunset, in order to reach his house in Leith after the night was set in. REBELLION OF 174?5. 313 On entering Mr. Blythe*s, I thought the good woman would have stifled me with her caresses. She sprung to my neck, clasped me in her arms, and shed a torrent of tears of joy. As no one of my family knew what had become of me since the battle of Culloden, or whether I was dead or alive, for my brother-in-law RoUo had allowed them to remain in ignorance of his having seen me at Banff; as soon as the first transports of this good woman were over, I entreated her to go instantly to Edinburgh, and acquaint my father and mother that I was in perfect health in her house. I was the more eager to give them this intelligence, as Mrs. Blythe had informed me of their great uneasi- ness and distress on my account. During her absence, Mr. Blythe shewed me all the hiding- places which he had caused to be made in the partition of a room, for concealing the contra- band goods, which he used to bring from foreign countries, in order, as he said, that I might take refuge in one of them, in case of surprise, and of his house being searched for me. I observed, that I was the most contraband and dangerous commodity that he had ever had in his possession, and that it was very possible they might still prove serviceable, although it was a long- time since he had concluded he should no longer have occasion for them. My impatience to give the earliest intelli- gence to my father, had made me forget to request Mrs. Blythe to bring me clothes ; but 314 MEMOIRS OF THE I had the joy and satisfaction to see her return loaded with every thing necessary for me. It was indeed full time to quit my rags ; for, besides a thousand other inconveniences to which this disguise had subjected me, I found that they had given me the itch. However, as this dis- agreeable disease had yet rrlade but little pro- gress, I got rid of it in the course of twenty- four hours, by rubbing myself all over with butter and sulphur, and taking flower of brim- stone internally. These rags had been of the greatest use to me, during the six weeks I had worn them ; but I felt, notwithstanding, an in- credible pleasure in throwing them ofl^ and in being no longer obliged to disguise myself like a beggar. My father sent me word that he would call on me next morning, and pass the day with me. Although I ardently desired to embrace my father, whom I had not seen since the month of October, when our army left Edinbiirgh, I nevertheless dreaded his presence, and the re- proaches which he might make me, for having joined Prince Charles without his consent, and precipitated myself, by my own fault, into the miserable condition into which I was then plunged. As soon as it was known with cer- tainty at Edinburgh, that the Prince had landed in the North-west Highlands, eager to have the merit of being amongst the first who repaired to his banners, and staked their fortune on the issue of his cause, I earnestly supplicated my REBELLION OF 1745. 315 father to grant mé permission to join him im- mediately ; but instead of granting my request, he expressly commanded me to renounce every idea of this nature, telling me, that it would be time enough to join the Prince \vhen he should be in possession of Edinburgh ; that, not being able to procure me a passport, as his principles and attachment to the house of Stuart were uni- versally known, I should be arrested in rny attempt to pass the first arm of the sea, arid kept a prisoner during the whole expedition. In vain I represented to him, that the Prince would look more favourably on me if I joined his standard in the beginning, when he had only a few hundred followers, than when in possession of the capital of his ancient kingdom of Scotland, the principal obstacles were overcome, and he had nothing more to do than to be crowned, — (for this was the light in which I viewed matters, though I was sadly deceived,) — my father was inexorable, and at last commanded me to be silent. Burning with desire to join the Prince, I went to dine next day with Lady Jane Doug- las, sister of the Duke of Douglas, who had been my protectress from my infancy, in order to make her acquainted with my chagrin, and the conversation I had had with my father. This worthy lady highly approved of my reasons, and agreed that I ought to set out immediately, without consulting my father ; and undertook to appease him, in case he should be enraged at my disobedience. This was precisely what I de- 316 MEMOIRS OF THE sired ; and I set out next morning without say- ing a word on the subject to any one. I found no difficulty in passing the arm of the sea, between Queensferry and Dunfermline. I put a black cockade in my hat, and entered the boat W'ith an air of authority, telling those who examined the passports, that I was an officer in Lee's regiment, then quartered in Edinburgh, and that officers liad no occasion for passports. On leaving the boat 1 went to the castle of Lord Rollo, wliere I remained two days, waiting the arrival of the Prince at Perth, which is two miles from it. When I returned to Edinburgh some time after with our army, my father said nothing about my going away without his con. sent ; but then we were victorious and trium- phant. Now every thing was changed ; and those who bestowed praises on us in our pros- perity, treated us, now that we were unfortunate, as hair-brained youths. This is the way with the world in general, who judge of things merely by the event. If we had succeeded in placing the crown on tlie head of Prince Charles, of which there was even a great probability for some tune, by conducting ourselves well after our victories, w^e should all have been celebrated as heroes. The loss of the battle of Culloden, which put an end to the contest between the houses of Stuart and Hanover, niade us imme- diately rebels and madmen, in the eyes of those who are incapable of reflection, and who unfor- tunately are every v/here the majority. REBELLION OF 1754. 317 My father came to visit me ; but instead of reproving me, the good old man was so affected at seeing me again, that his eyes were filled witli tears ; and, loc Icing me in his arms, he was for some time unable to utter a single v/ord. As soon as we were a little composed, after this scene of mutual tenderness, I amused him with the recital of all the particulars of our expe- dition, since our departure from Edinburgh for England, and all that had happened to me per- sonally since the battle of Culloden. He re- mained with me till nine o'clock in the evening, and the day passed over with the rapidity of lightning. I was deeply afflicted on learning that my mother was very ill, and had been obliged to keep her room for a long time ; and I v/as still more so, when Mrs. Blythe told me, that her anxiety for me was the cause of her illness, and that the physicians thought her life in dan- ger. My grief was natural, and well founded. 8he had always adored me with the most tender maternal affection. I proposed several projects to my father for going to see her, but he would not hear of it ; alleging that I ran a risk of being discovered, and that if unfortunately I should be arrested, it would be the death of both of them. I therefore ceased to insist on seeing her. What a cruel situation ! to be so near a mother, whom I had such reason for loving tenderly, without being able to embrace her ! Leith, which is about a mile from Edinburgh, 318 MEMOIRS OF THE was then filled vvith Hessian and English troops, waiting for embarkation for Flanders. Two English sergeants called on Mr. Blythe with billets for lodging. This was a dreadful de- rangement for me ; Mr. Blythe, however, conr trived to get an exemption, and they went away. For an hour, during which these sergeants remained in the house, wrangling with Mr. Blythe about their lodging, I continued watch- ing them through a hole which 1 had made in the partition, between two rooms, with the entry of the hiding place open to receive me, in case I found they intended to search in the house for rebels. I saw poor Mrs. Blythe turn pale and change colour every minute, trembling like an aspen leaf; and I was much afraid lest her anxiety should induce the sergeants to suspect that there were some rebels concealed in the house. However, my fears were groundless. I received information that Lady Jane Doug- las * intended to pay me a visit mcognito, in the * The Duke of Douglas, brother of Lady Jane Douglas, represented one of the most ancient and illustrious houses in Europe, which had disputed, for several centuries, the crown of Scotland with the family of Stuart. John Baliol had two daughters, the eldest of whom was married to the Earl of Douglas, and the other to Robert the Bruce, one of the greatest men that ever Scotland produced, and who de- livered his country from the English, when they had almost succeeded in conquering the whole kingdom. It is impos- sible to say, why Robert Bruce succeeded to the crown of Scotland on the death of John Baliol, in preference to the house of Douglas, and he had only one daughter, who was REBELLION OF 1745. 319 afternoon of the following day, accompanied by Mr. Stewart, who became afterwards her married to the Steward or Stuart of Scotland ; and he suc- ceeded, in virtue of his wife, to his father-in-law, Robert the Bruce. The house of Stuart was little known in the history of Scotland before this period, when it was suddenly ele- vated to the sovereignty. The house of Douglas always disputed the right of the Stuarts to the throne ; and William the eighth Earl of Douglas, having more than half the kingdom in his favour, headed a confederacy against James the Second. James proposed an interview between them in the castle of Stirling, and sent a safe-conduct to the Earl of Douglas, who, too credulous and confiding in the promises of the King and the safe-conduct which he had received under the great seal of the kingdom, ventured to wait on the King in the castle of Stirling. The King, having in vain urged the Earl of Douglas to dissolve the confederacy, drew his dagger, and said, " If you will not break it, this shall," and immediately plunged it into his heart. The vassals of the Earl flew to arms, and dragging the safe-conduct, which the King had given and violated, at the tail of a horse, they burned the town of Stirling, and threatened to lay siege to the castle, where the King was. The King and the new Earl of Douglas met at Abercorn, at the head of their respective armies ; that of the Earl's being much superior to the King's, both in number and valour. " Thus," says Robertson, in his History of Mary, from which I derive this note, " a single battle must, in all probability, have decided whether the house of Stuart or of Douglas was henceforth to possess the crown of Scotland. But while his troops impatiently expected the signal to engage, the Earl ordered them to retire to their camp ; and Sir James Hamilton of Cadyow, the person in whom he placed the greatest confidence,, convinced of his want of genius to improve an opportunity, or of his want of courage to seize a crown, deserted him that 320 MEMOIRS OF THE husband, and another lady, who was related to me. This worthy and virtuous lady, who was very night. His example was followed by many ; and the Earl, despised or forsaken by all, was soon driven out of the kingdom, and obliged to depend for his subsistence on the friendship of the King of Enghmd. The ruin of this great family, which so long rivalled and overawed the crown, and the terror with which such an example of unsuccessful ambition filled the nobles, secured the King, for some time, from opposition ; and left the royal authority uncontrolled and almost absolute." The Duke of Douglas and Lady Jane were the descend- ants of John Baliol, through his daughter. The archives of this illustrious house prove their descent from Sholto Douglas, the founder of their family, who received from Selvathius, King of Scotland, in 770, the earldom of Doug- las, as a recompense for his valour and success in the war which Solvathius carried on against Donald, King of the Isles. I have some drops of royal blood in my veins, through the house of Douglas. My grandmother was a legitimate daughter of Douglas, baron of Whittingham, a branch of the family of the Duke of Douglas ; and since the period when that branch sprung from the house of Douglas, one of the ancestors of my great-grandfather, Douglas of Whitting- ham, married Annabel Stuart, sister of James I., King of Scotland ; and my grandmother was descended from this Annabel Stuart, by lawful marriage. My father gave me, at parting, the genealogy of this family, which was extracted from the registers of Scotland, and signed by the Chancellor, for my grand-uncle William, baron of W^hittingham, lieu- tenant-general in the service of Gustavus Adolphus ; and I have still preserved it. — Author. — As the reader of this work will not expect to find in it information respecting the early history of Scotland, or the genealogy of the house of Douglas, it is not necessary to REBELLION OF 1745.. 3^1 idolised by her country, possessed every good and amiable quality that could adorn her sex. She was beloved, respected, and adored, by all point out all the errors contained in the above note, though it may be proper to notice some of them. There were no Earls of Douglas till 1357, before which period the Chiefs of Douglas were only Barons. The Selvac or Salvathius, or Solvathius, who is here made to carry on war against Donald of the Isles, in 770, is said to have begun to reign in 719, and to have been succeeded by Murdac, in 733; and the incident related by our author is one of the inventions of Boyce or Boetius. Robert Bruce was never married to the daughter of John Baliol. He married, first, Isabella, daughter of Donald, Earl of Mar ; and afterwards, Elizabeth, daughter of Aymer de Burgh, Earl of Ulster. His son David died without issue, and his daughter was married to Walter the Stewart, or Stuart, of Scotland, father of Robert II. Archibald the sixth de Douglas married Dornagilla, daughter of John Comyn of Badenoch, by Marjory, sister of John Baliol, King of Scotland. The author, however, only repeats what he had heard or read on this subject. '* Legend," says Mr. George Chalmers, " under the form of history, came out with an assertion, that William, the Earl of Douglas, ' uniting in himself the du- bious pretensions of Cumyn, and the solid title of Baliol,' unexpectedly claimed the crown on the demise of David II. Tliis fiction became a party-question, which was perti- naciously debated, about the year 1747, at Edinburgh. In 1748, the learned Ruddiman published a Demonstration, that William, the Earl of Douglas, had neither any re- lationship of blood, nor connection of family, with the Cumyns, and Baliols ; and he might have added, that the Earl of Douglas had no alliance of marriage with the Stewarts. The whole story of Douglas' claim is an egregious fable, which was scarcely worth the repetition ; and which we may hope will never be again repeated." Y Sfi2 MEMOIRS OF THE those who had the advantage of knowing her, as well as by the public in general, who only knew her through the high character and re- putation she possessed. She had been very beautiful in her youth, and was still beautiful at the age of forty-five ; appearing at least fifteen years younger than she really was, from the uniform, temperate, regular, frugal, and simple way of living she had always observed. She was virtuous, pious, devout, and charitable, without ostentation ; her devoutness was neither affected nor oppressive to others. Her affability, easy and engaging manners, and goodness of heart, soon set at tlieir ease those who paid court to her, whom her graceful and majestic air might at first have rendered timid. Her mind was highly cultivated. She had a decided taste for literature ; she had a great memory, much good sense and mtelligence, a sound judgment, and a quick discernment. Her library was well stored with the best authors, without any of those trifling novels, which ge- nerally form so large a portion of the libraries of women. She possessed great elevation of soul, and was even haughty and proud on proper occasions, supporting her illustrious birth with dignity, without arrogance, and without vanity, but in a manner truly noble. Her brother, the Duke of Douglas, was a lunatic from his infancy, frequently breaking out into the most dreadful fits of madness. He killed his own near relation Mr. Ker, without REBELLION OF 1745. 323 having ever had the least quarrel or altercation with him, by running him through the body with his sword when asleep ; and as Lady Jane several times narrowly escaped being killed by him in a fit of insanity, their uncle, the Marquis of Lothain, wished to have him legally declared a lunatic, and Lady Jane put in possession of all the estates of the family, amounting to more than sixteen tliousand pounds a-year. This would have met with no opposition, as his lunacy was notorious, from the flital proofs which he gave of it every day ; but Lady Jane Douglas would never consent to this ; preferring to live retired upon an annuity of three or four hundred a-year, which she drew from her brother as interest of her portion — a very small income for a person of her rank — to dishonouring him and her family by having recourse to such a step. If ever virtue seemed to be unceasingly persecuted by Providence, it was in the person of Lady Jane Douglas, the most amiable of her sex, eminent for every noble quality, and the most perfect model for imitation. The chagrin she suffered from the persecution of her brother, with the death of her eldest son, whom she tenderly loved, shortened her days, and she died at London a little before the death of her brother, and at the very moment when she was on the point of inheriting an income of sixteen thousand pounds a-year. In what I have here said to her praise, I have not been guilty of ex- aggeration. All those who had the good y S> 324 MEMOIRS OF THE fortune to know her, and who now lament her death, will say a thousand times more in her praise, without being able to do justice to the merit of" this adorable lady, who was as illustri- ous as she was unfortunate. How mysterious the ways of Providence ! We may often exclaim, with Brutus, "O virtue! I have always worshipped thee as a divinity ; but I find thou art an empty name.'* Virtue does not secure man from the sufferings of nature, or the injuries of fortune. * Lady Jane called on me, as she had an- nounced, and made me repeat all my adventures since the battle of Culloden. When I came to that part of my story whicli related to my stay at Samuel's, my dream, whicli I had almost for- gotten, from the variety of events that had hap- pened to me since I left Glen-Prossen, recurred to my remembrance ; and, struck with the realisation of this dream in every point, and in all its circumstances, I stopt short for a moment * The Duke of Douglas, enraged at Lady Jane's mar* riage, in 174^6, to Mr. Stewart, a private gentleman, refused to pay her the interest of her fortune, and reduced her to the greatest difficulties. She returned to London in 1752, and having been presented to King George, she did not humiliate herself by soliciting a pension, but told him, " That her brother having stopped the payment of the interest of her fortune. His Majesty, who knew her family, had certainly too much penetration and good sense not to know what was due to a person of her rank." The King gave immediate orders for settling a considerable pension on her, although he knew that she had visited Prince Charles in his palace at Edinburgh. — Author. REBELLION OF 1745. 325 in my narrative, and remained silent and con- founded. T hesitated at first whether I should relate it or not ; but it appeared so supernatural and incredible that I was afraid to communicate it to her, lest she should imagine that I wished to palm fictions on her, of which, however, I had no need, to secure the sympathy of a lady who had honoured me with her kindness from my infancy. Besides, supposing she could not give credit to me, which was very probable, it would have appeared, as I tliought, in her eyes, to betray a littleness of mind in me, to attempt to deceive her by artifices. I therefore pro- ceeded with my story, omitting all account of the dream, though nothing can be more certain than that, in inspiring me with an obstinate de- termination to proceed to the south, instead of returning to the mountains to join my com- panions, this dream was the means of saving my life ; and I shall therefore remember it as long as I live, as a matter beyond my comprehension, and on which it is impossible for me to reason, though it had such an influence on my destiny. The activity of the mind, whilst the body is in a state of insensibility approaching to death, is in itself inconceivable ; but, when the con- versation we had in a dream, and the circum- stances which then appeared to take place, are afterwards literally realised and verified in every particular, what are we to think of this ? Can it be explained and accounted for from any natural cause? Certain it is, that my dream saved me Y 3 326 MEMOIRS or the from the seaffold, having followed its guidance, as if the route which I took in consequence had been pointed out to me by a guardian angel. To it I certainly must ascribe my obstinate determin- ation to reach Edinburgh, or to perish in the at- tempt, contrary to tlie opinion and advice of every one. I never retrograded a single step, either in returning to Mr. Graham's, when the boat- men refused to carry me over, or to Lillie's, when the assistance I expected from Salmon failed me, or in remaining at Mr. Seton's, when in one attempt I was disappointed. Instigated by an indescribable impulse, without my well knowing whether it was for my destruction or my safety, I found it impossible to act otherwise than I did. My mind is lost in a labyrinth, when I try to investigate this subject ; and the more so, as I never thought of Lady Jane, on the day we held a council at 8amuel*s, when it was unani- mously resolved to return to the Highlands, nor lor a long time before. I thought of nothing on going to bed, but to sleep soundly, and to rise at three o'clock in the morning to set off with my comrades. It seemed to me on waking, that my will was no longer free ; and my re- flections during the whole day, on the insur- mountable obstacles which opposed my reaching Edinburgh, only served to strengthen my reso- lutions. Besides, supposing even T should reach Edinburgh, how could I ever hope to see Lady Jane Douglas there, or that she would pay me a visit at Mrs. Blythe's ? REBELLION OF 1745. 327 Having recounted to Lady Jane the affair of the two sergeants, on the preceding evening, which had so much alarmed poor Mrs. Blythe, she observed that 1 was not then in a proper place, and she offered me an asylum in her house, where 1 should be more safe, as no one would dare to search it upon mere suspicion. She told me to come that very night, about ten o'clock, and ordered me to collect my rags for the journey. Her house was about half a league from Leith, in the village of Drumsheugh : the disguise was absolutely necessary, lest I should meet any one who knew me on the way. I said all that I possibly could to be freed from wear- ing my old clothes, for which I had a particular repugnance ; however, as I durst not venture to tell Lady Jane that they had given me the itch, I was obliged to put them on to comply with her request. I took every possible precaution to prevent my catching that odious disease a second time^ by putting on two shirts, a waist- coat, and gloves under my rags. Notwithstand- ing the horror which I entertained for this dress, and that I would have given a good deal to have had it burnt before Lady Jane called on me, it was the most precious dress I ever wore, iiaving contributed so much to save my life. I arrived at the door of Lady Jane's house, about eleven o'clock at night, which I found half open ; and the gardener, who was the only one of her servants whom she dared to intrust with the secret, was waiting for me. He told Y 4 328 MEMOIRS OF THE me that Lady Jane had ordered him to conduct me into her Ladyship's apartment as soon as I arrived, without changing my clothes, as she wished to see me in my disguise. This was another source of uneasiness ; for I dreaded the pestilential odour which they would cause in the room ; but I had no alternative. I found Mr. Stewart, and a lady who was related to me, with Lady Jane, waiting to see my metamorphosis. They all agreed that it was impossible to recog- nise me in this dress ; only Lady Jane observed, that, to complete my disguise, I ought to have my eye-brows blackened with burnt cork. I made the experiment immediately, and found that the alteration which it produced in my appearance was considerable. I took my leave of them about midnight, and was conducted by the gardener to the chamber which was destined for me, above the room where company was re- ceived, and where no one had slept for a long time past. I immediately made a bundle of my clothes, which I requested the gardener to burn in the garden, that I might hear no more of them, and be under no apprehension of wearing them again. As the gardener was the only individual in the secret, and as all the servants imagined, at the same time, that there was no person in the room that I occupied, that I might not make any noise which might lead to my discovery by them, I was obliged to remain without shoes till eleven o'clock in the evening, when they went REBELLION OF 1745. 3^ to bed, and then I went down stairs into the garden to take a walk. I soon became accus- tomed to this sedentary and secluded life. I seldom saw any one but the gardener, who brought me my meals. Sometimes I had the pleasure of passing a few hours in the apartment of Lady Jane, where 1 usually found Mr. Stew- art ; but this was an indulgence I seldom en- joyed, on account of the difficulty of keeping all the servants out of the way, especially her chamber-maid, Mrs. Ker ; whom Lady Jane did not wish to let into the secret, and who became very troublesome from her extreme curiosity to clear up the mystery, the existence of which she had frequent occasion to suspect, without know- ing what to think of it, I immediately acquired a taste for reading, having been, till then, too dissipated for any application to books; and her liadyship supplied me with the best historical authors. Thus I passed my whole time, with a book continually in my hand, without feeling weariness for a sin- gle moment ; and I should have willingly con- sented to pass my whole life in the same manner, on condition of escaping the scaffold. The taste which I then contracted for reading has been subsequently of the greatest utility to me, and a great resource against enmdi in a part of Ame- rica where I lived several years, and where society is not so agreeable as in Europe. A few days after taking possession of my lodgings in the house of Lady Jane, I read in 3.30 .MEMOIRS OF THi; an Edinburgh newspaper, " That the populace of Dubbieside had arrested and conducted to prison a person of the name of David Cousselain, who, with a certain individual who was not taken, had aided in the escape of a rebel ; and that they had burnt the boat, which had been made use of in crossing the ferry." I was very glad that Seton, who had acted with such generosity, had had the good fortune to escape ; and I was sorry that Mr. Robertson had lost his boat ; but, as to Cousselain, as my hands were not yet cured, I could not pity his fate so much as if he iiad kept himself sober : had it not been for his drunkenness, he might have returned to Dub- bieside in better time ; for being then able to relieve each other we should have effected our passage in less time, and then there is every reason for supposing he might have escaped being taken, securing his return before the in- habitants were up. I rowed as well as a man could do who was rowing for his life, without knowing much of the business ; but with Cous- selain we should have effected the passage in half the time. I learned from Mr. Seton the elder, whom I met at Paris, in the year 1747» that Cousselain suffered only a few weeks' im- prisonment, as there was no evidence against him: Indeed, nothing would have been more unjust than to have condemned him for saving a rebel, for the brute had nothing to do with it ; having slept during the whole passage, while I was fatiguing myself to death with rowing, and REBELLION OF 17'1.5. 331 injiiring^ my hands in such a way as to prevent me from using them for a long time. Lady Jane and my father were of opinion, that I should go immediately to London, as I ran no risk of being discovered in that immense city, which a multitude of strangers are entering and leaving every day. They thought, too, that there was little to fear on the road, after I was once ten leagues from Edinburgh. Every thing was ready for my departure, when we learned that the squadron of the Duke d'Anville had sailed from France, and that it was so formidable that Admiral Anson durst not attack it. When this news first reached Scotland, no one doubted that this squadron was destined to re-establish the affairs of Prince Charles ; and the feigned route which it took on its departure confirmed us still more in that belief. It is certain that this squadron might have effected a disembark- ation in Scotland, without experiencing the least opposition, and even in view of the English fleets, which had not dared to attack it ; and the troops, which were on board, would have been more than sufficient to re-establish our affairs. The Scots who were still concealed in the mountains would have issued out of them like so many bees from a hive ; and many of the clans who had remained neuter, seeing that the Duke of Cumberland had ravaged and laid waste the whole country, without distinction of friend or foe, would have taken up arms : the army of the Prince would have been soon double in number 33Si MEMOIRS OF THE to what it was in the times of our greatest pros- perity. After waiting, with extreme impa- tience, for the landing of this squadron in Scot- land, which occupied the attention of every one for several weeks, an English ship, at length, discovered it in a latitude which put it beyond all doubt that it was only destined for America. It was the fate of this formidable fleet to perish on the coast of Accadia, or Nova Scotia, without even effecting the settlement which was the object of the expedition, at Chebuctoo, a paltry fort, in the worst possible soil, covered with rocks and stones, where the English have since built the town of Halifax. This immense armament, which might have easily effected a revolution in England, from the critical state of things at that time in Scotland, was reduced to nothing by tempests, by diseases, by discord and contention between the superior officers of the land and sea services, — in short, by a total want of good conduct ; so that a few of the shattered remains of it only returned to France. This may be considered as the last effort of the French navy. Tlie policy pursued by the court of France, in threatening the English with efforts in favour of the house of Stuart, as they have done for a century past, is very short-sighted. TJiis po- licy, from the nature of things, could only be of limited operation • the trick has become so stale from repetition that the English are no longer alarmed, and never will be alarmed in future. REBELLION OF 174.5. 333 as they see that France, with the best possible dispositions, is now incapable of effecting any thing in favour of the Stuarts, from the destruc- tion and emigration of their partisans in Scothuid, and tlie coohiess of those in England. This was, indeed, clearly proved in the last war ; these pretended invasions having in no manner disconcerted the English, or prevented them from pursuing their enterprises, and having only served to open their eyes to the necessity of forming and disciplining a hundred thousand militia to guard their coasts from surprise. If France had had seriously at heart to re-establish the house of Stuart on the throne, she might have easily succeeded in effecting this, during our expedition, with three or four thousand troops ; and besides, having an ally in Prince Charles, she would have thereby avoided those eternal wars with England, which never took place during the reign of the house of Stuart. On the contrary, Charles II. became the ally of France, in a war against the Dutch, notwith- standing the friendly sentiments which the Eng- lish nation always entertained towards that re- public. The King of England has the power to form alliances, to declare war, or to make peace, as he pleases ; and he is always certain of a ma- jority in parliament. After passing two months in the house of Lady Jane Douglas, in the most tranquil and philoso- phic manner, a servant-maid, who returned from Edinburgh with provisions, told her companions 334 MEMOIRS OF THE in the kitchen, that whilst she was purchasing meat in the flesh-market, the lackey of an Eng- lish gentleman, a commissioner of the customs, whispered in lier ear, " That they knew very well that I was concealed in the house of Lady Jane Douglas, her mistress ; and that there was every reason for supposing that her house would immediately be searched.'* She added, that she had openly contradicted this calumny ; and, in fact, she could do so with a safe conscience, for no one in the house, except the gardener, knew any thing of the matter ; and he went up stairs immediately to inform Lady Jane, who came without delay into my room, accompanied by Mr. Stewart, to consult as to what was necessary to be done ; fearing lest a detachment of soldiers should come, in the course of the day, to visit the house. It was then only nine o'clock in the morning. This intelligence filled me with the utmost grief and uneasiness. I trembled lest the ex- treme goodness of Lady Jane, in giving me an asylum in her house, should involve h er in diffi- culties with the government ; and 1 was a thou- sand times more afraid of the disagreeable conse- quences which the being taken in hcrhouse would entail on her, than of the fate which awaited myself. When I feelingly expressed how much I regret- ted the dangers to which I exposed her, she re- plied, with her usual spirit and promptitude, — " If there were no risk, you would be under no obligation to me." — It was impossible to get REBELLION OF 1745. 335 out by the door into the court, on account of the servants, who, in that case, would see me from the kitchen ; and there was no place in the house, which I examined all over, where I could remain concealed. But, as they were then making hay in an inclosure belonging to Lady Jane, Mr. Stewart proposed that I should con- ceal myself in a cock of hay. In order to suc- ceed in this, it was necessary to let a footman into the secret, that he might watch the other servants, and seize a favourable opportunity for my leaving the house and entering the in- closure. I went out, in my waistcoat, with the footman and gardener, followed by Mr. Stewart. As it was necessary to observe a number of precautions, on account of some of the windows of the village which looked into the inclosure, we began to throw down all the cocks of hay, one after an- other ; and the footman and gardener threw each other down on the hay, with which the one who happened to be undermost was covered by the other. This pretended amusement went on for some time, when they threw me, in my turn, as a part of the same sport, and covered me with hay, till the cock in which I was concealed was raised as high as the rest, leaving me only a small aperture for breathing ; and, having given me a bottle of water and another of wine, they with- drew. I do not think it possible to suffer more than I did the whole day : the weather was fine, but 336 MEMOIRS OF THE very warm ; the excessive beat of my situation under the hay, which was like an oven, ahiiost deprived me of respiration. Mr. Stewart came to see me from time to time, and exhorted me to be patient ; and, indeed, I had need of pa- tience, for my sufferings were occasionally so in- supportable, that 1 was sometimes tempted to give the hay to the devil, and expose myself to whatever might happen, rather than to con- tinue where I was. My regard for Lady Jane alone restrained me. After the most dreadful sufferings, from ten o'clock in the morning till nine at night, remaining always in the same attitude, without power to stir myself, and bathed in sweat, I was at length relieved. But when I came out of the hay my body was so bruised, and 1 was so weak, from my excessive transpiration, that it was with difficulty I could walk, leaning on the arm of Mr. Stewart, for my legs could scarcely support me. I was enraged to think 1 had passed so disagreeable a day for nothing, no person having come to search the house. I was always of opinion that they would not dare to do so on doubtful information, and they could obtain no certain information except through the gardener, of whose fidelity Lady Jane had been assured for a considerable length of time, during which he was in her service. The certainty that the squadron of the Duke D'Anville was not destined for Scotland, the disappointment I felt in the extinction of all my hopes of the re-establishment of our affairs, and REBELLION OF 174.5. ,S37 my sufferings the whole of this day under the hay, determined me to set out for London as soon as possible ; and Mr. Colvill, Lady Jane*s man of business, purchased for me, next day, in the horse-market, a very handsome poney, at a reasonable price. I urgently entreated Lady- Jane to exempt me from performing a second penance, during the day I should still have the honour to pass with her ; adding that I would remain sentinel at my chamber window from morning till night, with my eyes constantly fixed on the door into the court ; and that as soon as I saw a detachment enter, if they were so impudent as to send one, I would jump from the window of the first floor into the garden, when, by climbing the garden-wall, I could soon gain the open fields, and place myself be- yond the reach of their pursuit. This dear and amiable lady pitied my suffering under the hay- cock, but could not help, at the same time, }>ursting into a loud fit of laughter, on seeing the panic-terror with which the idea of return- ing to it filled me, and she granted me a dis- pensation. I had had, it is true, a rough trial of this dreadful penance. Next day my father came to bid me an eter- nal adieu, and passed the afternoon with me. I felt the utmost affliction and grief at the ap- proach of this perpetual separation. I warmlv urged my father, as well as Lady Jane, to per- mit me to go to Edinburgh, for a few moments, to embrace, for the last time, the most tender z 338 MEMOIRS OF THE and affectionate of mothers, in the bed where she was then dangerously sick ; but they would not give their consent, on account of the danger 1 should run of being discovered, either in passing through the town, or by the servants of the house. What a cruel situation ! To be within a mile of a tender mother, who had al- ways fondly loved me, then dangerously ill, and yet be unable to bid her an eternal adieu ! About eleven o'clock at night, 1 began to dis- guise myself in the dress of one of the persons who travel up and down the country with goods. A stock of handkerchiefs was procured for me, which I put into my portmanteau with my linen, where I had also the breast of an embroidered waistcoat, which was very beautiful, and very precious to me, as it was the work of a mistress. Having folded up my hair, I put on a black wig, which hung down over my shoulders, and Lady Jane blackened my eye-brows ; but with this disguise I w^as by no means so completely metamorphosed as in my beggar's dress. This amiable lady, who could not be at ease on my account till she knew I had proceeded, without accident, some leagues irom Edinburgh, wdiere I should be less exposed to meet any persons of my acquaintance than in the neighbourhood of that city, sent her servant, on her saddle-horse, to accompany me the first two leagues, that she might know how I succeeded. I proceeded six leagues without stopping, wlien, having come to a village in which there REBELLION OF 1745. 339 was a public-house, I alighted to rest a little, and take some refreshment. The landlady eagerly pressed me to join a gentleman in the next room, who had just arrived, that we might dine together. I consented, suspecting that she had it not in her power to serve us up sepa- rate dinners. I was confounded, on entering the room, to find Mr. Scott, banker in Edin- burgh, a young gentleman who knew me very well by sight. This rencounter was the more calculated to alarm me, from his being a violent partisan of the House of Hanover. Having, how- ever, committed this blunder, it was now too late to think of retreating ; and, trusting to my dis- guise, I supported the character of pedlar as well as I could, till, in a moment of absence, he pronounced my name. As it was impossible any longer to doubt that I was known to him, I endeavoured to deceive him with respect to the road which I intended to take. As at this villaire several roads joined the highway to Edinburgh, I told him that I intended sleeping at Jedburgh, the road to which turns off from the London road on the right at this village. After he had pronounced my name, I could perceive that he was at great pains to induce me, notwith- standing that circumstance, to believe that he did not know me ; for which I could not dis- cover his motive. I was not afraid of being ar- rested in the village, having a pistol primed and loaded in each breeches pocket: but I was very much afraid, that on his reaching Edinburgh in z 2 340 MEMOIRS OF THi; the evening he would lodge an information against me, and that, in consequence, the ma* gistrates of the different towns on the London road would be written to, in order to have me arrested. I therefore set out immediately after dinner, taking at first the Jedburgh road ; but as soon as I had proceeded about a league in it, I came to a cross road to the left, into which I struck, and soon regained the London road. In the evening I arrived at Kelso, which is about eleven leagues from Edinburgh, where, availing myself of a letter of recommendation from Mr. Stewart, I slept at a private house, to avoid any troublesome rencounters at the inn. I never passed a more painful day ; — plunged in the deepest melancholy, and oppressed with and absorbed in the most distressing reflections, 1 saw myself reduced to the dreadfid alternative of either perishing on the scaffold, or, by escap- ing to a foreign country, of abandoning lor ever my native land, my relations and friends, and all that was dear to me : — in short, it was an eternal farewell. Next day I entered England. Amongst the immense number of prisoners that we took in the different battles we gained against the English, there were many who en- tered our army without any sincerity of in- tention ; the most of them had no other view in so doing than to have the means of escaping with the greater ease to join their old colours in the English arniy. Of thirty or forty of them, wi)om 1 had liad in my company, only five or REBELLION OF 1745. 341 six remained with me at the battle of CiiUoden. The unfortunate Dickson, my serjeant, was of that number, and was hanged at Edinburgli, whilst I remained in the house of Lady Jane Douglas, dyingwith the utmost courage andiirm- ness. He refused his pardon, which was offered to him on the simple condition of confessing himself guilty, by Mr. Chapman, his former cap- tain in the forty-second regiment. On the fourth day after my departure from Edinburgh, when within two miles of Stamford, where I intended passing the night, having travelled about thirteen leagues in the course of the day, and little more than an hour of sun remaining, 1 came up suddenly with some covered waggons, when I heard a voice in one of the waggons call out, " See, see! if there is not a man on horse- back who resembles our rebel captain as much as one drop of water resembles another!" and I iieard my name pronounced at the same time. I had been informed, whilst in the house of Lady Jane Douglas, that several waggons, filled with soldiers wounded at the battle of Culloden, had set off, about eight days before I left Edin- burgh, for Chelsea Hospital, near London ; but 1 supposed them too far before me for any danger of my coming up with tiiem by the way, and not expecting to meet with any })erson in England who knew me, I had taken off my large black wig, on account of the excessive heat, and had only my hat uncocked, which covered my face as if to defend me from the sun. I affected z 3 34<2 MEMOIRS OF THE not to hear them ; and having passed tlie wag- gons, I kept on at the same rate till 1 got clear of the town of Stamford, when I put spurs to my horse, and rode eight miles at full gallop, to get so far before the soldiers that they might not see me again. I durst not sleep at Stam- ford, as I was afraid their report might induce the magistrates to arrest me. However, this adventure proved nearly fatal to my horse, the loss of which would have re- duced me to so grievous a situation that I trem- bled at the very idea of it. On reaching my inn, as soon as he entered the stable, he threw himself down, refusing to eat or drink, seeming to be completely cut up. I tortured my im- agination in order to devise how I could con- tinue my journey in case he should be incapable of proceeding farther ; and I dreaded also the arrival of the waggons, next morning, at that very inn, which was the only one in the vilhige. Restless and chagrined beyond all description, I did nothing but pass and repass between the inn and the stable, during the space of two hours. At length, after inexpressible suffering, I was agreeably surprised to see my horse on his legs, eating with a good appetite, and looking admirably. The landlord told me, that I had nothing to fear on his account, and even offered to buy him, at thrice the price which he had cost me. Nothing could exceed the joy which I felt in having my mind thus set at ease with respect to my horse, the recovery of which ex- REBELLION OF 1745. 343 tricated me from the most cruel perplexity. He added, that in a few hours he would feel nothing more of his fatigue, and that I might set oif with him in the morning at any hour I pleased, without the least danger of his failing me on the way. I fixed my departure at half past two in the morning, under the pretext of avoiding the heat, but, in reahty, to get the start of those waggons, which weighed so much on my mind. Next morning, at sunrise, a man very well dressed, in the manner of the people *, about forty years of age, and mounted on a very beau- tiful bay courser, came across the fields, leaping all the hedges and ditches witli an astonishing facility; and as soon as he entered the highway, lie came alongside of me, and immediately en- deavoured to enter into conversation, notwith- standing the little inclination which I discovered to continue it, as he might easily see from my always answering him in monosyllables. Having examined his physiognomy, when he rode up to my left side, I observed that he had a wild and troubled air, and that he turned his head every instant to look about him in every direction ; in short, that he had all the appearance of one * En bourgeois. It can hardly be necessary to inform the reader, that the uniformity of dress which now prevails, extending from the peer almost to the ploughboy, is of recent origin. Long after IT^G, gentlemen were distin- guished by their dress from the industrious part of the com- munity, the bourgeois of the French, a word for which we have not an exact synonyme. z 4 344 MEMOIRS- OF THE of the highwaymen with whom the great roads in England are infested. I instantly had my right hand in my breeches pocket ; and whilst I held my pistol in readiness, I kept my eyes always fixed on him ; determined, if he made the least movement with his hands, that my pistol should be presented as soon as his. I likewise regulated the pace of my horse by his, never allowing him to get behind me, which I perceived he was sometimes desirous to do, from his slackening his pace every moment. I did not wish to surrender my purse without a battle, as, in my situation, the loss of my money would have ruined me irretrievably ; for I knew not how I could have extricated myself from such an embarrassment. Having proceeded in this manner for more than half an hour, always on the alert, and making a number of uncon- nected observations, he suddenly wished me good morning, and darted, in the same manner as he came, across the fields, leaping the hedges and ditches, and without appearing to have any other object in view than that of getting to as great a distance as possible from the highway. The determined air which I exhibited, probably deterred him from demanding my purse ; and I was very glad to get rid of him, for the adven- ture, turn out how it might, would have been fatal to me. If I had blown out his brains in my own defence, I could not have presented myself before a magistrate to make my deposi- tion J and if he had taken my purse, I know REBELLION OF 1745. 345 not how I could have continued my journey- without money. Whilst I was dining in an inn at Jockey Houses, a man entered, whom I took, from his conversation with the landlord, to be an excise- officer. This man rudely seated himself at the same table with me, without the least apology, and without asking my leave. He remained a quarter of an hour without opening his mouth, during which time he made a very considerable breach in a piece of roasted veal. Unable, at length, to devour more, he laid down his knife and fork, with much gravity, and said to me with an air of contentment and satisfaction, " Sir, I saw you pass this morning : probably you slept at Stamford ? I at once perceived from your horse, — for we have none of that breed in England, — that you are come from Scotland. Tell me if it be true, that the rebels are entirely dispersed ? It must be owned that your nation is very eager for its own destruc- tion. Have we ever been governed with so much mildness and moderation as at present, under his majesty King George ? Your nation will never be quiet till it be totally destroyed. Can nothing extirpate, in your country, that hereditary spirit of rebellion ?" I was very uneasy for fear this rude fellow had been sent by the magistrates of Stamford, to endeavour to verify the declaration of the soldiers, and with instructions to keep sight of me, till he should find an opportunity for arresting me, in tlie lirst 34<6 MEMOIRS OF THE great town on tlie road where I might pass the night. I answered, " That I had no news re- specting the rebels, having come from a part of the country called Annandale, which is on the frontiers of England, and where they gene- rally know little or nothing of what is passing in the north of Scotland. Besides, being a dealer in linen -drapery, 1 concerned myself only with my trade, and cared very little about state affairs." He immediately asked to see my goods. I told him that I had sent my linen to London, by sea with other goods of Scots manufacture, and that I had only handkerchiefs with me. I im- mediately opened my portmanteau to show them, and sold him a piece without knowing the price, for they had forgotten to mark the price of each. I had not, it is true, anticipated any such embarrassment on the road to London as v/ould oblige me to sell them. On paying for the handkerchiefs, he praised my probity, telling me that I was a conscientious young man, and that all the other Scots pedlars, who passed that road every day, were a set of arrant knaves, liaving lately obliged him to pay, for the same goods, nearly the double of what I had demanded. In examining my portmanteau he saw my em- broidered waistcoat, and had a strong desire to purchase it ; but, as soon as I told him that I could not sell it for less than fifteen guineas, he gave up all idea of buying it ; and I was very glad that he did not torment me for the vest> REBELLION OF 1745. 347 for I should not have let him have it on any account. If this man was really sent after me, as I suspected, he must, at least, have reported that I was a pedlar ; and the handkerchiefs which I had sold him apparently for much less than prime cost, gave him a high opinion of my honesty. He made me take down the addresses of his friends in London, in order that they might obtain similar goods from me at the same price. I arrived in London at six o'clock in the even- ing of the seventh day after my departure from Lady Jane Douglas's, having travelled nearly one hundred and forty leagues in that time, without over-fatiguing my horse. I alighted at an inn in Greek-street, the people of which Mr. Stewart had recommended to me as honest and well-behaved ; and I went out, as soon as I had changed my linen, to deliver a letter of recom- mendation to a person, from whom all the favour I had to demand was to procure me furnished lodgings, to which I might immediately proceed, in order to avoid the inconvenience of sleeping in an inn. Having found liim at home, to my great surprise he declined to procure lodgings for me, telling me, at the same time, that the master of the inn, being a Scotsman much sus- pected by the government, it was generally sup» posed, that the court employed some of his waiters as spies, to give them intelligence of all the Scotsmen who arrived in London. I re- turned to the inn, highly incensed at the rudeness 348 MEMOIRS OF THE of this person, who would not givie himself" the trouble to« find me a lodging ; and I was very uneasy, after what I had heard, at being obliged to pass the night there. I did not close an eye the whole night, from tbe fear of being arrested on the information of the spies of the inn ; and having risen at an early hour, I sallied out in quest of furnished lodgings, with- out being able to find any, in a neighbourhood which suited me in respect to price. Impatient and anxious to quit the inn, I at length bethought me of a female who kept a shop, who had had a great kindness for me, when I was in London in 1740. All I had to do was to ascertain if she had adopted any one in my place, whom she loved better than me ; or if, after an absence of five years, I could revive the affection with which I had formerly inspired her. However, as she possessed good sense, elevated sentiments, and great gentleness of disposition, I was well as- sured that I ran no risk in confiding my life to her fidelity ; and I therefore immediately took a coach and drove to her house. Having dis- missed the coach some paces from the door, I entiered her shop, under pretext of buying some- thing, supposing that she would not recognise me J but she no sooner saw me than she called me by my name, in a transport of joy at again meeting with me. As her servant-maid was present, I told her that she had forgot my name, which was Leslie. We then entered into the parlour, where I related to her my misfortunes, REBITLLION OF 1745. 349 which drew tears from her eyes ; and I soon perceived that this good and amiab)e woman still loved me. I told her that the convincing proofs I had received from her of her friendship and affection made me believe that my life was safe in her hands. " Oh ! yes," replied she, with great vivacity. She then embraced me, and entreated me to be assured that she loved me as much as ever, and that she had often thought of me. She immediately offered me an apartment in her house, telling me that I should be the more safe with her as she had never chosen to let her apartments ; and she pressed me very much to take possession of the lodging in question with- out a moment's delay, as I was exposed to trou- blesome accidents at the inn. I accepted her obliging offer, returned to the inn for my port- manteau, and came back to dine with her ; when she put me in possession of an elegant front room on the first floor. Having found a stable in the neighbourhood, I brought my horse to it myself, that very evening, that the people of the inn, if they were spies of the court, migiit not know the part of the town where I had gone to lodge. I ceased, therefore, to be any longer uneasy on that score. My horse was so hand- some that I sold him, almost immediately, on such advantageous terms, that I received, over and above the price I paid for him, much more than the expense of my journey, and my loss on the handkerchiefs. 350 MEMOIRS OF THE Having formerly remained a year in London, in consequence of a dispute with my father, I received an order from him, in the Spring of 1740, to return to Scotland ; and he allowed me only three weeks to join him, under pain of his never pardoning my disobedience. I was in this critical situation with regard to my father, when, in a visit which I paid to one of my friends, to announce to him my departure, I met, in his house, the most beautiful person that ever existed, eighteen years of age, newly come from the country. She was herself ignorant of the perfection of lier celestial figure, and the power of her charms. She was the niece of my friend, and an only daughter. Her father was of an an- cient English family, the younger branch of which is very illustrious, and bears tlie title of Duke. I stopped to dine at her uncle's, where she staid ; and her engaging manners, her sweet air, her conversation seasoned with good sense, wit, and modesty, and without the least tincture of affectation, conspired with her beauty to capti- vate me, and make me feel with violence the tor- ments of a growing passion. This adorable beauty reduced me, in a moment, to a situation which language cannot express. I could not tear my eyes from this charming object ; and the more I admired her, the more the subtile poi- son entered into my soul. I was as in a fever ; my respiration failed me ; the rapid movement of my blood suffocated me, and my tongue could scarce pronounce a single monosyllable. I en- REBELLION OF 1745. 851 deavoured, however, to conceal as long as I could the trouble and disorder vvitli which my soul was devoured. I had never felt any thing like this before. I had often, indeed, been in love ; but it was that easy kind of love which we lose without knowing how or why, when a short ab- sence or the presence of another beauty dissolves the charm, and soon makes us forget the fair one for whom we sigh. But this charming per- son had placed me in a dreadful situation. My wounds were deep. I was bewildered, and no longer knew myself. I did not speak to her of my departure, although it was the subject of my visit ; and her uncle invited me to pass the day after the next with them. I returned home absent, thoughtful, melan- choly, and dejected ; with her image as dis- tinctly imprinted on my imagination as if she were still standing before me. Sleep brought no rehef to my pain ; I passed the night without closing my eyes, in an incessant combat between love and duty to my father. Having returned five or six times to her uncle*s, I always left her, more smitten and more tormented than before, and every visit rendered me less master of my- self. My father had consented to pardon my indiscretions, on condition of my making my appearance in Edinburgh in the course of three weeks ; and, if I slighted his orders, I foresaw a second rupture with him, worse than the first. What a painful situation ! My agitation was beyond description. Nothing could exceed my 33'^ MEMOIRS OF THE embarrassment. I had passed a terrible youth. I was impetuous, obstinate, fiery, passionate, and headstrong, and possessed a number of other defects. Never, however, liad I done any thing contrary to lionour or probity, or which could wound the most delicate sentiments of a gallant man ; and 1 was always incapable of any thing low. Too raucli indulged by an affectionate mother, she supplied me secretly with money to support my extravagance and follies ; for I had only to ask lier for money to have it. In I7S8, when I was about eighteen years of age, I was seized with a desire to see two uncles in Russia ; Mr. Douglas, lieutenant-general and governor of Revel, and Mr. Hewitt, my mother's brother, formerly a favourite of Peter the Great, and president of the College of Commerce, but who had retired, on the death of that emperor, with a considerable pension. My father would not agree to this journey ; but having appealed to Lady Jane Douglas, who was my ordinary re- source in my altercations with my father, and my great oracle, being the only person who could convince me when I was in the wrong, and instantly induce me to abandon any inten- tion, she persuaded my father that, as I was; extremely volatile, careless of my studies, and plunged in libertinism, the only means of re- forming me was to accede to my wishes, as this would remove me, for some time, from the so- ciety of my youthful companions ; that young men seduce and lead each other into dissipation 7 REBELLION OF 1745. 353 and debauchery ; and that it was extremely for- tunate this idea had entered into my own head. Thus this dear lady succeeded in obtaining my father's consent. My uncle Hewitt was a man of distinguished merit. He had a great deal of good sense, much talent, knowledge, and experience. He had been brought up at the court of Russia, having entered that service when very young ; and, in his youth, had been as great a libertine as myself. He was consequently an excellent pilot for directing me how to avoid the rocks, on which he himself had struck. He was very fond of me, and reproved me mildly, respectfully, and patiently, instead of having recourse to the harsh, cutting, and severe language of my father, who having always been prudent and philosophic from his infancy, did not know how to feel for, and yield a little to the torrent of boiling blood, in an ardent tem- perament every way different from his own. In the course of a year he taught me to think for myself, and extinguished a part of the excessive ardour and vivacity which deprived me of all command over myself. I had always a decided inclination for the profession of arms ; but my father, unwilling that his only son should be carried off by a can- non-ball, opposed me in that, as he always did in almost every thing that I desired. My uncle Hewitt had been colonel of a regiment in Russia, but, at the battle of Narva, he was so danger- ously wounded, by a ball through the neck, that A A 354 MEMOIRS OF THE be was obliged to quit the military service, and was placed at the head of the College of Com- merce. He subscribed very williugly to my desire of entering into the service of Russia ; and one day, when Prince Courakin and Count Gollovin, both secretaries of state, and his par- ticular friends, were dining with him, he pre- sented me to them as having come from Scotland, for the express purpose of entering into the service of E-ussia, and begged them to take me under their protection. They seconded my wishes so well, that in the course of a few days a lieutenant's commission was obtained for me, with all possible assurances, that, at the end of the campaign, that of 1739» against the Turks, I should have a company. I communicated to my father the opportunity which I now had of making a figure in the world, and that besides their powerful protection, I had also that of Field-marshal Keith, likewise a friend of my uncle Hewitt, v;ho would not fail to serve me ; a.nd that I Avas certain of being strongly sup- ported by my uncle Douglas. Mr. Hewitt wrote to my father a very pressing letter at the same time, in order to obtain his consent j but, instead of giving me his consent, my father answered me in a letter conceived in the harshest terms, telling me tliat I knew it never had been his intention that I should settle out of my na- tive country ; that I had all my life been dis- obedient to his wishes J and that, if I persisted in opposing him, as I had hitherto done, I might REBELLION OF 1745. S5d be assured that he would disinherit me, and leave all his property to my sisters. The prospect of being one day rich, is a great misfortune to a young man ; as this wealth, which is not seldom imaginary, makes him fre- quently neglect opportunities for making his fortune ; and it is cruel and unpardonable in a father to conceal the state of his affairs from his children. By obeying my father I lost the only opportunity which ever presented itself, in my whole life, of making a brilliant fortune. There are moments when fortune opens to men the door by which they may arrive at happiness ; and happy are they who can discern and in- stantly seize these moments ! General Keith urged me much to avail myself of the kind dispositions of these two ministers ; and he assured me, that he would extend me the friendship which he had vowed to my uncle Hewitt. He was then confined to liis bed, in consequence of the wounds he had received at the siege of Oczacow, in 1738, where he com- manded ; and Lord Marisclial, his brother, having come to Petersburg to take care of him, I also made the acquaintance of this agree- able nobleman, which I afterwards renewed at Paris in 17'51, when he resided in that city as ambassador from the King of Prussia. Having been prevented by my father from entering into the service of Russia, my stay there became insupportable to me ; especially after Mr. Smollet, a young man who came to Peters- A A 2 356 MEMOIRS OF THE burg, ill 1739, with the design of entering into the service, but who did not find it to his taste, had spoken to me so much of the pleasures and amusements of London, that he inspired me with a strong desire of visiting it. As Smollet had determined to return, I resolved to embark with him on board the first vessel that should leave St. Petersburg, without waiting for the consent of my father ; for his answer could not reach me before the interruption of the navi- gation of the Baltic, by which I should be obliged to remain another year in Russia. My uncle, after combating very much my project of going to London, at length ceased to impor- tune me ; but as he foresaw, better than myself, that my father would be greatly irritated against me on account of this step, he offered to advance me whatever sum I wished to have on his ac- count ; assuring me that my father might delay much longer than I supposed, the sending me money. I only took ten or twelve guineas, in the persuasion that my father would immediately honour the bills I should draw on him. Having taken my passage for London, on board the same ship in which Mr. Smollet em- barked, and agreed with the captain about the price, Mr. Walker, the master of another mer- chant ship, which was ready to sail for London at the same time, came to the coffee-house, and asked to speak witli me in private. He. said, that having heard of my wish to go to London, he came to request my acceptance of a passage REBELLION OF 174.5. 357 in his vessel, which would set sail at the same time with that on board of which was my friend Mr. Smollet ; that, far from demanding any thing for my passage, he should consider him- self as under a great obligation to me for my company ; that there would be no want of any kind of refreshments on board, as I had only to give him a list of all the articles I wished, and he would instantly purchase them ; that with regard to wine, few were better provided than he, having not only Spanish and Portuguese wines, and claret, but also several kinds of Greek wines, as his last voyage had been through all the Grecian islands, with some noblemen, who had freighted his vessel with a cargo of legs and arms of statues, and numberless pieces of marble with inscriptions. Of these he knew nothing ; but he had taken care, wherever he found good wine, to lay in a stock of it. He added, that he was in easy circumstances, with- out wife or children, having realised seven or eight thousand guineas, which he iiad at Lon- don ; that he was the sole owner of tlie ship, and tliat he was resolved to sell her, upon his arrival in London, and pass the rest of his days in a philosophic retirement. I had seen Mr. Walker, who was between fifty and sixty years of age, several times before, and 1 had always distinguished him very much from the other seafaring men in St. Petersburg on account of his gentlemanly behaviour, his mildness of character, his agreeable society, great A A 3 35S MEMOmS OF T^E knowledge of the world, intelligence, and good sense. He invited me to dine on board with him next day, and to ask Mr. Smollet to be of the party ; telling me, that his captain with whom I had made my arrangements for my passage, would likewise be there, and that being his intimate friend, he would take it upon himself to release me from my engagement to take my passage in his vessel. He gave us a magnificent dinner ; and finding his society exceedingly agreeable, I willingly accepted his proposition. We left Petersburg in company with the other ship, in which Mr. Smollet embarked ; and, as we had many calms, we used to anchor together, and give dinners to him and his cap- tain ; being better provided than they were with a thousand little things which are a great luxury at sea. A gale of wind, on the coast of Denmark, at last separated us, and we did not see one another again till we arrived in London, which we reached after a passage of six weeks. Nothing could be more agreeable than this passage. Mr. Walker paid me the greatest attention, and treated me, in every respect, as if I had been his own son, giving me good ad- vice in the mildest and most respectful manner. He was one of those men of great elevation of soul, and goodness ot heart, whom we meet with more frequently among the English than among any other people. Having more ex- perience and foresight than 1 then possessed, he REBELLION OF 1745. S59 constantly maintained that my reconciliation with my father would neither be so easy nor so prompt as I imagined, in consequence of the character for excessive harshness and austerity which he had frequently heard me give him; and, on our landing, he invited me to remain with him, till I should receive an answer from my father ; an invitation which I fortunately accepted ; for, having drawn a bill on my father, and wrote letter after letter, he persisted in refusing to answer me. Poor Mr. Walker, who had a sincere friendship for me, constantly showed me the affection and tenderness of a fa- ther ; and I entertained the highest sense of the obligations 1 owed him for the favours conferred on me in so noble and generous a manner, and with so much delicacy, that 1 had no occasion to blush while I received them. Mr. Walker had advertised his ship for sale on our arrival in London ; but finding no pur- chaser, and having had the offer of a freight for Bourdeaux, he resolved to undertake another voyage before retiring. He pressed me much to make this voyage with him, to keep him com- pany ; assuring me that I should be in no want of money, as his purse, and every thing that could make the voyage agreeable, would be freely at my service ; that, besides, I should have the pleasure of seeing France, which would prove an amusement for me in the mean time, till my father thought fit to grant me his par- A A 4 3i')i) MEMOIRS OF THE don. I accepted with pleasure the obhgiiig offer of this worthy man, as from the obstinacy of my father in not answering my letters, I saw no other course open for me ; and every thing was prepared for our departure in the course of two or three days. My friend SmoUet, who, on his return to Lon- don, had obtained a lieutenant's commission in Wentworth's regiment, lodged in the court end of the town ; and as I lived always with Mr. Walker, whose house was in Wapping, where the sailors reside, we were at the two extremities of London, and seldom saw one another. But, as I was on the point of setting off for Bourdeaux, I went to pass a day with him, and take leave. Returning home about eight o'clock in the evening, after the lamps were lighted, in going through Change-alley, a passage like that from the Palais-royaly ending in la rue de Richelieu^ absorbed in reflection, and entirely engrossed with those thoughts, which my distressing situ- ation then suggested, I was suddenly roused out of my reverie by a voice which called me by my name. On turning about, I saw Mr. Whitlock, a young English gentleman, whom I had known at St. Petersburg, where he passed the winter, with the intention of entering into the Russian sea-service ; but having got into embarrassment, and his elder brother having refused to honour his bills, he was then in as awkward a situation as that in which I now happened to be. He engaged me to go and sup with him. When REBELLION OF 1745. 36i we arrived at his lodgings, I told him ali that had happened to me since we parted ; and that my disagreeable situation, occasioned hy the obstinate silence of my father, reduced me to the necessity of accepting the obliging offer of Mr. Walker, whom Mr. Whitlock had known at St. Petersburg. Mr. Whitlock convinced me that my father would be a thousand times more exasperated against me when, having consented to forgive me, he should learn that I was no longer in London, but roaming about on the seas ; and he very obligingly invited me to lodge and board in the same house with him, where I should want for nothing, till I heard from my father. He added, that he was then in easy circumstances, having withdrawn his patrimony from the hands of his brother. He proposed my sleeping at his lodgings, to which I con- sented, on condition of our going together next morning to see Mr. Walker, who approved of our reasons for my staying in London. We staid to dine with him, and I took leave of this worthy man with tears in my eyes, and with a heart penetrated with gratitude for the paternal affection which he had shown me.. What a shock I received, on reading in the newspapers the tragical fate of this worthy gentleman 1 His ship went to the bottom of the sea, in consequence of her springing a leak, three weeks after his departure from London, and the unfortunate Walker perished, with his 362 MEMOIRS OF THE whole crew, not one of whom was saved. I have often lamented the fate of this worthy and amiable man, and shall lament it as long as I live. I shed an abundance of tears ; while, at the same time, the singular effect of an invisible Power which had prevented me, by my meeting with Mr. Whitlock in Change-alley, from ending my days at the same time with him, filled my mind with admiration and gratitude. Whatever name we may give to this mysterious agency, whether Fate, Chance, or Providence, its effects are visible, as I have frequently experienced in my own person, though the veil which covers it from our eyes be impenetrable to feeble mortals. It was necessary to change his resolution of going no more to sea, and, to accomplish his unfortunate destiny, that no one should appear, during the space of six weeks, to purchase his ship ; and that he should likewise receive the offer of an advantageous freight for Bourdeaux, by which he might clear three or four hundred guineas. To prevent my going to the bottom of the deep, it was necessary that Whitlock and I should meet in Change-alley, through which I seldom or never passed ; and that he should re- cognise me by the light of the lamps, for I could not have known my father if he had passed close beside me, being then completely absent, and absorbed in the most painful reflections respecting my situation ; it was necessary that I should have gone to take leave of Smollet, to enable me to fall in with Whitlock ; and, in REBELLION OF 1745. S63 short, it was necessary that Whitlock should have sufficient friendship for me, who had never been much in his company, at St. Petersburg, to offer me his purse, and take me to board with him. * This chain of surprising eftects could never proceed from mere chance, blind and ir- regular in all its movements. Here there is a field for reflection, for a whole lifetime. The more we endeavour to account for these wonder- ful dispensations of Providence, the more we shall be lost in darkness. All is obscurity, un- certainty, and full of doubt. The worthy but unfortunate Mr. Walker was a man of the greatest probity, — generous and compassionate towards his fellow-creatures in adversity, of a mild and cheerful character, and possessing all those amiable qualities which could render a man agreeable to society. My father left me to languish four or five months in London, before he answered my letters. He possessed considerable talents and information, but was very impatient and severe. * My whole life has been one scene of miraculous escapes ; always in difficulties, overwhelmed with wretched- ness, and unrelentingly persecuted by fortune. My life has been passed in the service, and my body is worn out by the excessive fatigues I underwent in order to benefit the ser- vice. A pension was granted to me merely sufficient to sup- ply me with the necessaries of life ; but the Duke d'Aiguillon, and the Abbé Terray, have recently retrenched one-third from this pittance. After having been so often miraculously saved from destruction, shall I escape perishing of hunger in my old age ! — Author. 364 MEMOIRS OF THE Indeed he was altogether unfitted for the ma- nagement of youth, for he was a stranger to the mildness and mode of reasoning by which alone some young men can be influenced. We are all born with different characters, and this difference depends on bodily organization. The most passionate and impetuous young men may be gained over by mildness, but never by a stoical severity, which only serves to irritate a son of such a character against a father, whom he considers rather as his tyrant than his friend, and to whom he therefore refuses to listen. After exposing me to a thousand dangers of every kind, into which a young man in despair may be precipitated, he at length remitted me a bill to pay my debts ; ordering me, at the same time, to return to Edinburgh in the course of three weeks, if I wished to avail myself of his present disposition towards a reconciliation. It was precisely at this critical moment that chance made me acquainted with the angelic person to whom I have alluded. I remained in London adoring this divine beauty, till I had no more money than was barely sufficient to defray the expenses of my journey to Scotland ; and, struggling continually between love and duty, I suddenly formed the resolution of setting off next morning, without taking leave, from a dis- trust of my self-command, and an internal con- viction that a single glance of the charming Miss Peggy woidd instantly overturn all my re- solutions, however wise and prudent they might 7 REBELLION OF 1745. 305 be J that, in seeing her, 1 would no longer be master of myself, and be entangled in fresh em- barrassments. I arrived at my father's : a re- conciliation immediately took place ; and the past was forgotten. During the six years that I remained in Scot- land, at a distance from my adorable Peggy, the uncertainty of her sentiments with regard to me, the little hopes I had of seeing her again, time, which effaces every thing, and new objects, though of an inferior beauty, all conspired to make me insensibly forget her : but the instant I returned to London, her image immediately presented itself to my mind : my passion kindled at once to such a flame, that the certainty of the consequence of a visit being death on the scaffold, would not have prevented me from attempting to see her. I only delayed my visit till the clothes, which I had ordered, were ready ; and my tailor favoured my impatience by bringing them, with my beautiful embroidered waistcoat, in the course of twenty -four hours. As soon as I was dressed, I took a hackney- coach, which I discharged when I was near her uncle's ; and having enquired of the servant, who opened the doorj», if his master were at home ? he replied, he was not, but that he was expected to dinner. I then enquired if his niece, Miss Peggy, were in town or in the country? The bare answer of the servant, *' that she was in the house,** gave me such a palpitation at the heart, and such a trembling in my nerves, that I could S6C) MEMOIRS OF THE scarcely stand upright. I stept into the parlour, and sent the servant to ask if she were visible. He immediately returned to announce to me that she was coming down. The presence of this charming person, who appeared in my eyes more beautiful than ever, increased my disorder, and I remained motionless as a statue. In vain I attempted to speak ; my mouth and tongue refused to perform their functions. Speechless, and almost petrified, I stood with my eyes fixed on her in ecstasy and admiration. As soon as I was sufficiently tranquillised to be able to speak, I told her, that, having been engaged in the unfortunate affair of Prince Charles, I had hesi- tated very much whether or not I should pre- sent myself to her uncle, lest I exposed my friends to disagreeable consequences in case of my being discovered in their houses ; but that the remembrance of the civilities and kindness which I had received from her uncle, six years ago, had been always so deeply engraven on my mind, that 1 could not resist the temptation of personally offering to him the assurance of my lasting gratitude. Whilst I spoke, the adorable Miss Peggy looked at me with an eye full of compassion, pity, and sweetness, and then said, — That her uncle, having always entertained a sincere friend- ship for me, would certainly feel for my misfor- tunes ; and that he would disregard any incon- venience to which he might expose himself^ for tlie pleasure of seeing me and of being useful REBELLION OF 1745. 367 to me. In the mean time her uncle entered, and was much surprised at seeing me again. He embraced me very affectionately ; and when I related my disasters to him, he replied, that I was a pretty fellow to wish to be a king-maker ; that, for his part, he did not care whether King George, King James, or the devil were upon the throne of England, provided he was left in peaceable possession of his estate, which he would not hazard for all the kings in the uni- verse. He added, that he felt very much for my situation, and advised me to shun all places where I. might meet any of my countrymen. He made me a hearty offer of his house, till I could find an opportunity of escaping beyond sea, and begged me to avail myself of his offer im- mediately, by remaining to dine with them. Several persons called on them after dinner, to whom the uncle introduced me, under the name of Mr. Leslie ; and I made a party at quadrille, with Miss Peggy and two other ladies. How quickly does time glide away in the com- pany of those we love ! I passed the whole of the most delicious day witli her vv'hich I had ever known, and it appeared to me but an instant. The uncle told me, at supper, that he had staid at home all tlie afternoon on my account, and begged me to have the goodness to lay aside all ceremony, as he should no longer consider mé a stranger in his house. I returned to pass the night in the house of my generous female friend, with a quiet contented mind ; but before taking 3G8 MEMOIRS OF THE leave, the uncle invited me to come every day to breakfast, and pass the day with them ; and his adorable niece joined in the invitation, add- ing, that in going out early in the morning I should be less exposed to meet in the streets any of my countrymen who might happen to know me. He likewise offered me a room in his house, which I did not choose to accept, for fear of involving him in some awkwai'd affair, in case of my being followed in the streets by any one who knew me, and arrested in his house. I passed fifteen days continually with my adorable Peggy, from nine o'clock in the morn- ing till eleven o'clock at night, when I returned to sleep in the house of my hospitable female friend. The easy conversation of Peggy, cha- racterized by good sense and wit, the knowledge which she modestly displayed, her freedom from all affectation, being truly learned without any ostentation of knowledge, her sweetness of temper, her delicacy of sentiment, all filled me with admiration of the perfections of her soul, and the beauty of her person. I had not yet dared to declare to her that I loved her, for fear of shocking her. How timid are we when we sincerely love ! What a change in my cha- racter ! I no longer knew myself. I had al- ways been bold and enterprising with the fair sex ; and when I did not succeed I made my retreat with a good grace, and without being disconcerted ; but in presence of this divine person, I looked down when she turned her REBELLION OF 1745. 369 eyes towards me, and whenever I attempted to reveal my passion I was immediately seized with trembling j I remained petrified, and unable to open my mouth. She seemed to me a supreme good, which I was afraid of losing, by shocking her with a declaration of my love, in case her sentiments with respect to me were unfavour- able. Always afraid of offending her, even by the slightest word, I allowed no other signs of my excessive love and affection to escape me than an occasional sigh, or my apparent un- easiness, wliich she might very well attribute to my unfortunate situation, and not to the true cause. Having passed a whole day tête-à-tête with her, after suffering a long and cruel combat, wishing to declare the sentiments of my soul, without being able to conquer my irresolution, deprived almost of respiration, I at length threw myself suddenly at her feet, seized her hands in a transport, and bathed them with my tears. I could only say, with a broken voice and trembling lips, that I adored her ; that 1 wished to live only for her ; that my passion was of an old date, as my eyes must have told her the state of my heart in 17^0, before my departure for Scotland. She immediately desired me to rise, telling me coolly, that she had always had a great esteem for me j that she was extremely sorry to see me so inconsiderate, in the terrible crisis in which I then was, between life and death ; that, every day, my companions were dragged B B 370 MEMOIRS OF THE to the scaffold ; that I might every moment ex- pect to follow them, and to undergo the same punishment j and she exhorted me to think more rationally, and rather of the means of saving my life, than of filling my head with chimeras. *' Ah ! my angel !" replied I, pas- sionately, " if you cannot love me, I should envy their fate, and eagerly meet death. It is you alone that can render life of any value in my eyes, and without you it is not worth the preserving." From that moment I had a tacit permission to express all the tenderness and affection that the most violent passion could inspire ; which, however, never failed to draw down on me strong reprimands from her, and advice to act more hke a reasonable man. Her cold and reserved behaviour towards me grieved and affected me beyond all endurance, while her gracious, prepossessing, and engaging manners towards other men, whom she treated so very differently, rendered me excessively jealous. I imagined that all those to whom she showed the least civility or politeness stood much higher in her opinion, and were more in her good graces, than myself. One of her re- lations had made her a present of a handsome snuff-box, of écaille tournée de MauboiSy lined with gold, with an exquisitely beautiful minia- ture, — one of the first of these boxes which had appeared in England. Whilst I was one day tête-d-tête with her, I observed her absent and thoughtful, frequently taking out the box. REBELLION OF 1745. 371 and examining the miniature. My jealousy instantly broke out against the box. I bitterly reproached her, observing that certainly her mind could not be occupied with the miniature, which she had so often seen, but that she was that moment thinking of the person who had made her a present of it ; that he was the hap- piest of mortals in possessing her heart, whilst my sad and cruel fate was truly pitiable ; that I was overwhelmed with afflictions of every kind, and ready to sink under my misfortunes ; that I could support, with patience, her rigours, and the cold indifference which she continually showed me ; but that the very thoughts of her loving another, and my having a happy rival, plunged a dagger in my heart. My adorable Peggy immediately dashed the snuff-box against the marble chimney-piece, which broke it in a thousand pieces, telling me, with warmth, that I should never have any reason to fear a rival ; that she loved me tenderly, and would no lonarer conceal her sentiments towards me. She conjured me, at the same time, to take no im- proper advantage of this knowledge of her way of thinking with respect to me, and to be satis- fied with her friendship ; which would be con- stant and invariable as long as she existed. Heavens ! What were my transports ! The sur- prise kept me for a moment speechless and im- movable, as I could scarcely believe my own ears ! I seized her in my arms ; I pressed her to my bosom ;. I gave her a thousand tender kisses, B B 2 372 MEMOIRS OF THE shedding at the same time tears of joy. I swore to her an eternal love and friendship, protested that my affection should be unalterable, and my fidelity proof against every trial, till my latest sigh. I assured her these were the first vows which I had ever made, and pronounced in all the sincerity of my soul, and in perfect truth, that I adored herj that she deserved to be adored as a prodigy by the whole universe ; that all the perfections and amiable qualities to be found in her whole sex were united in her person j and that her overpowering beauty, which it was impossible to see without being smitten with it, was the least of her charms. After this avowal of my angelic Peggy, I re- gretted every moment that was not passed in her company. Time flew away with extreme rapidity ; hours and days appeared to me but as moments. I saw her every day, and the last day always seemed the shortest ; the shortest absence was insupportable, and cost me inexpressible pain : those moments in which she was not be- fore my eyes, to enable me to adore her, were to me moments of melancholy and sorrow. I desired no other treasures from the Supreme Being than those I now possessed, and I had no other prayers to offer up to Heaven, than for the continuation of the felicity I enjoyed. Happy moments that I passed with my charming Peggy ! They were the only happy moments I ever knew, and the only ones I can ever again know. Dearly, however, have I since paid for this hap- REBELLION OF 1745. 373 piness, in the tears it has cost me, and will con- tinue to cost me, every time that I call to mind those blissful moments, which fortune has con- verted into bitterness and regret for tlie rest of my life. Hearing one day in my room a noise in the street, I approached the window ; but what was my surprise when I saw twelve of my com- panions in the hands of the officers of justice, who were conducting them for execution to the scaffold on Kennington-common ! They be- longed to the garrison which Prince Charles had left at Carlisle, upon our retreat fron Eng- land ; and Messrs. Hamilton and Townley, the governors of the town and castle of Carlisle^ were of the number of this unfortunate party. I was the more struck on seeing them, because had it not been for my obstinacy and firmness, I should then have been undergoing with them an ignomhiious punishment. When the Duke of Perth, my colonel, commanded me, on our retreat, to remain with my company in Carlisle, I answered that I would willingly shed the last drop of my blood for Prince Charles, but that 1 should never allow myself to be marked out as a victim for certain destruction, and I left him in a rage, without waiting for his reply. Persisting in my resolution, I set out next morning with the army. Two days after our departure, when the news of the capture of Carlisle, by the Duke of Cumberland, reached us, the Duke of Perth, who was of a very B B 3 374 :viEMOius OF the limited capacity, but at the same time a most worthy and gallant man, told me lie pardoned my disobedience, and that he had been himself deceived as to the strength of the place, as he believed it capable of sustaining a siege. * I fervently thanked the Almighty, who had watched over my destiny ; for without my ob- stinacy, my lot at that moment must have been to end my days in the same fatal manner. What a difference of situation ! To have only a quarter of an hour's existence, or to be tlie most happy of mortals, as I then was ! On how little does the good or bad fortune of a whole life depend ! This is frequently the affair of a mo- ment, never to be recalled. The least error in judgment is attended with an infinité train of necessary and inevitable consequences. The little attention I paid my hospitable female friend with whom 1 lodged, began some- what to irritate her mind, to render her uneasy, and even to sour her temper j and in reality she had every possible reason for being angry with me, as I passed my whole time with my adorable Peggy ; and when absent from her I was thought- ful, and lost in reveries, and little capable of showing my hostess that gratitude which she merited, for the essential services she had rendered me. In short, I was a most dull and awkward associate for any other than my dear Peggy ; notwithstanding the efforts which I * See a note on the surrender of Carlisle, p. 103. REBELLION OF 1745. 375 frequently made to display at least a forced gaiety, which, however, were very unsuccessful ; for during my whole life I have never been able so far to disguise my feelings, as to prevent any one from reading at once my displeasure and my discontent in my physiognomy. My hostess frequently reproached me on account of my coldness and indifference. I pitied her my- self, for she was truly a worthy woman, and merited a better return from me, for the con- tinual attentions she showed me, and the warm and tender interest she took in every thing that concerned me. I always assigned my cruel situation as the cause, and endeavoured to per- suade her of the impossibility of my being otherwise, suspended as I then was, between life and death, seeing my companions daily led to the scaffold, and uncertain whether I should not immediately follow them, as my fate in that respect depended on one unfortunate moment of discovery. This good and amiable woman possessed great sweetness and good sense, and was sufficiently disposed to believe whatever I told her. Whilst I was breakfasting one morning in my room with my landlady, 1 was thunderstruck at seeing my charming Peggy enter, excited by a desire to see my landlady, from some distrust that she entertained with respect to me. My poor landlady, the moment she saw my angelic Peggy, fixed her eyes on the ground, blushed, and remained quite confounded. She wished to B B -i 376 MEMOIllS OF THE retire, but I prevented her. My Peggy having satisfied her curiosity, withdrew in about a quarter of an hour ; and whispered in my ear on going down stairs, that she had nothing to fear. My landlady immediately reproached me, but without bitterness, observing that she was no longer astonished at my indifference, now that she had seen the cause of it ; that she could not blame me, as the lady was the most beautiful person she had ever seen ; with the most en- gaging manners, and an afïàble air full of good- ness ; adding, that she was certain no man could resist her charms. 1 wished to avail myself of the same arguments I had before urged j but she was no longer to be duped by them. Whatever confidence I might have in the sweetness and honourable disposition of my land- lady, it was still a matter of prudence to take precautions against the bad effects which might happen to me from this adventure ; especially as she might, in a moment of irritation, have recourse to a prompt vengeance, which could not fail to prove most fatal to me. She had nothing to do but to inform against me, when I would instantly be arrested. The resentment of wo- men who have supposed themselves slighted, has but too frequently displayed itself in this manner. I therefore resolved to look out for another lodging that very day ; and I was fortunate enough to find an apartment in the house of a hair-dresser, in the neighbourhood of the mansion of my dear Peggy. Having told REBELLION OF 174*5. 377 my landlady next morning, that I had found an opportunity of effecting my escape beyond sea, I immediately quitted my lodgings, after taking- leave of this amiable woman, giving her all possible assurances of my gratitude and my eternal remembrance of the services she had rendered me. She embraced me with tears in her eyes, truly afflicted at our separation ; and as my heart was not sufficiently hard to resist a beautiful woman in tears, I was very sensibly touched with her sentiments for me. In order to form an idea of the uninterrupted felicity I enjoyed with my charming Peggy, the whole force of love and friendship united must first be known. Our moments were too delicious and precious for our not avoiding every thing that could disturb our tête-à-têtes. Her door was shut to all visits, which she returned by twenties in a day. She was never visible, and always found plausible reasons to justify to her uncle this change in her manner of living. How every thing pleases when the mind is satisfied and content ! We often walked in the neigh- bourhood of London, where nature seemed to put on a new countenance. Every thing ap- peared smiling ; the solitary walks seemed gay, the verdure beautiful, the flowers of the most brilliant hue, the views picturesque, the inno- cence of a country life enviable ; every thing charmed the senses, and afforded an agreeable prospect. It was the presence of my Peggy that embellished these rural scenes. Deceived 378 MEMOIRS OF THE by the velocity of time, night frequently sur- prised us in our walks without our perceiving it. I possessed all I wished for ; and was in- sensible to every thing that had not an im- mediate relation to my present happiness, of which I felt all the value. Even the daily executions of my companions made no impres- sion on me. I looked forward to a danger much more terrible in my eyes than death ; which was that of being separated from all that ren- dered life interesting to me. I rejected all the opportunities of escaping to a foreign country, which her uncle and several other friends were continually busied in procuring for me, in the belief that I could not survive a separation with the uncertainty of ever seeing her again, the very idea of which filled me with terror and alarm. I always, therefore, pretended, that the occasions daily offered me were not sufficiently safe, though I could have had a passport for Holland, signed by the Duke of Newcastle, secretary of state. On returning from our evening walk, having learned that one of my relations had lately arrived from Scotland, I communicated to Peggy my anxiety to obtain some information respect- ing my family, and instead of supping with her as usual, I took a coach and drove to the lodg- ings of my relation. As soon as I entered, he began to condole with me on the loss which I had sustained ; but I paid no attention to what he said, imagining he alluded to th mis- REBELLION OF 1745. 379 fortunes that were common to me, with all those who had been attached to Prince Charles. How- ever he soon gave me to imderstand, that my mother and my sister Hollo both died a few days after I left Scotland ; and that my mother's last words were, *' I now die contented and satisfied, since I know that my poor dear son is safe." My relation was one of those grammatical blockheads, who thoroughly understand Greek and Latin, but who are profoundly ignorant of the human heart, and of the most ordinary circum- stances of life. Had he been capable of the least reflection, he would have prepared me for such an overwhelming blow. How Heaven mingles bitterness with sweets ! I remained a moment confounded and immovable as a statue ; I then turned suddenly round, and flew down stairs, without uttering one word in answer to his foolish compliments. When I got into the coach, I could scarcely tell the coachman to drive me home. I was nearly suffocated in the coach, where 1 fainted, and remained for some minutes insensible. Fortunately, on feeling the approach of the disposition to suffocation and difficulty of breathing I immediately took of my handkerchief, and also unbuttoned the neck of my shirt. I recovered from my fainting-fit with a torrent of tears, which were a great relief to me. The coachman, who knew nothing of my state, con- tinued his course, and I am even disposed to believe that the rough motion of the coach was 380 MEMOIRS OF THE of great benefit to me. When I reached my lodgings, my landlord, who had a kind and com- passionate heart, seeing me in distrees, followed me into my room, and having learned the cause of it, began immediately to moralize and repeat to me all the old and hackneyed topics of scho- lastic consolation. I seized him in a fit of rage by the shoulders, pushed him rudely out of my room, and ordered him never to set his foot in it again till I should ask him. I then locked the door and threw myself upon my bed, dressed as I was, and passed the night in tears and siglis without closing my eyes. I accused myself as the most innocent cause of the death of the most tender of mothers, by the pain and anxiety which she had felt for me since the battle of Culloden. I looked upon myself as a monster of ingratidude, in having remained two months in the house of Lady Jane Douglas, within a quarter of a league of her, sick as she then was, and on the point of death, without seeing her. I ought to have exposed my life a thousand times rather than not see her, in order to em- brace her, bid her an eternal farewell, and receive her blessing. It then seemed to me that this would have been a great consolation to me, and that I could afterwards have seen her pay the tribute to nature with patience and resignation. I blamed at the same time Lady Jane Douglas and my father, who prevented me from seeing her. It was impossible to pass a more cruel night. I was so much affected at REBELLION OF 1704i MEMOIRS OV THE in saving a rebel, who had attempted to tear the crown from the brow of their sovereign, to place it on the head of Prince Charles Edward. As the wind was contrary, we remained two days at Harwich before embarking. During our stay, the governor of the town, to whom Lady Jane Douglas had been recommended, became our tormentor, from his excessive polite- ness and civility. He had received orders from London to show her every attention, and he came twenty times a-day, and at all hours, to ask if she had any occasion for his services. I always bolted the door of the room to prevent my being surprised at table with my mistress. Whilst we were at dinner, the governor knocked at the door, and he could not be admitted till I had removed my plate, and the table was ar- ranged for three persons. Having opened the door to the governor, I took my station of ser- vant behind the chair of Lady Jane, and she having asked the governor to taste her wine, I presented a glass to him. It was easy to see from his countenance that he suspected some mystery j but to have lightly insulted a person of Lady Jane's illustrious birth, and without being certain of the fact, might have been at- tended with inconvenience. The first letter which I received from my cnarming Peggy informed me, that there was a report in London, that Prince Charles had es- caped to Holland with Lady Jane Douglas, dis- guised as her servant. There is every reason REBELLION OF l'74fÔ. 405 for supposing, that the governor had informed the court of his suspicions ; and it was fortunate for us tiiat we set sail next morning, before he could receive any answer authorising him to act on these suspicions. She told me that I was certainly born under a lucky star, and that I could not fail to be one day fortunate. I know not what star has presided at my birth, but my life has been continually passed in misfortune, adversity, pain, want, and the most crying injus- tice in the service, — very hard to be borne by a man of feeling, and an officer well acquainted with the duties of his profession. I have always been in straits ; and the third of the pension given me by the King, for my subsistence, has been retrenched from it. I owe nothing to for_ tune, which has always cruelly persecuted me, without having once been propitious. Provi- dence has frequently saved my life, as if by a miracle ; but that life has never yet been a source of enjoyment to me. All my ambition is now limited to the possession of the means of subsist- ing frugally 5 the having this subsistence secured for the few days that remain to me, and the pass- ing these days in tranquility and serenity of mind; looking forward to the termination of my existence without either fearing or desiring it. I should be content with mere necessaries, and happy, notwithstanding the injustice of fortune, who usually grants her favours only to the most infamous and contemptible of mortals. We arrived at Helvoetsluys in twenty-four D u 3 406 MEMOIRS OF THE hours. During our passage I had a whimsical enough scene. Sir CHfton, who hap- pened to be on board the packet-boat, .was an acquaintance of Mr. Stewart, and he was invited into the cabin, which Lady Jane had engaged for herself and suite, whilst his servant and my- self remained in a little anti-cabin, where we were very uncomfortably situated, and a source of annoyance to each other. This rendered us both very cross and ill-tempered. When we were in bed, our legs were striking against each other, from the smallness of the space in which we were cooped up. We suffered the more, as there were a great many passengers on board, and the weather being rainy, prevented them from going on deck, so that this little place was always literally crammed, and it was hardly pos- sible to breathe in it. Each believing the other to be a footman, our respective observations were delivered in an insulting and contemptuous tone; and the scene would certainly have terminated unfortunately, if Lady Jane had not informed the Baronet, at dinner, that there was a young gentleman in her suite, who had been with Prince Charles Edward, whom she wished to invite into her cabin to eat something. The Baronet told her, that he was in a similar predicament, as the person who acted as his valet was a Mr. Garnie, an officer in the Irish brigade in the service of France. We were both invited into the cabin, to dinner, and on receiving the necessary expla- nations, we were very much surprised, and made REBELLION OF 1745. 407 a thousand excuses to each other for our inci- vihty. I was in a deep sleep when the packet-boat arrived in the quay of Helvoetsluys, and all the other passengers were on shore before I was waked. I immediately rushed out of the packet- boat, with my eyes half shut, and began to run as fast as I possibly could from it, as if the cap- tain and his crew liad it in their power to arrest me. I could scarcely persuade myself that I was beyond the reach of the English. Lady Jane laughed heartily at seeing me run, and called out, that it was entuely useless, as I was now out of all danger. I became then tho- roughly awake. It is impossible to express the pleasure and satisfaction I felt on seeing myself at last safe, after being six months between life and death ! No one, without having been in a similar situation, can have any idea of the delight I felt at that moment. Ever since the battle of Culloden, the idea that I should end my days miserably upon the scaffold had never ceased to haunt my mind. I now felt myself as if raised from the dead. After remaining eight days at Rotterdam, I departed with Lady Jane Douglas to the Hague, where she took up her residence. As I had long determined to return to Russia, I immediately wrote to my uncle, acquainting him with the distressed situation in which I was then placed, requesting him to inform his friends, Priïice Cu- rakin and Count Gollovin, that I should be in D D 4 408 MEMOIRS OF THE Petersburg in a few days, and to endeavour to induce them to honour me again with their pro- tection, that I might find some employment on my arrival. Had I followed this resolution, I should have been a general officer many years ago. I was on the point of setting out for Russia when Lady Jane persuaded me to defer my departure, till we had some positive account of the fate of Prince Charles. Accursed fortune ! which has all my life deceived me with false appearances. Mr. Trevor, the English resident in Holland, having presented a memorial to the States-gene- ral, demanding that all the Scots, who had taken refuge in Holland, should be arrested, and de- livered up to the English government ; to tlie eternal disgrace of this infamous republic, the Dutch were cowardly enough to comply with the requisition, and to violate the feelings of humanity, and the law of nations. There were then about twenty Scotsmen of our party in Holland. Mr. Ogilvie was arrested and sent to London : the rest left this worthless country as fast as they could ; and, as it was necessary that I should remain till I could find an opportunity of going to Petersburg, I repaired in haste to Leyd'en to enter myself there as a student of medicine ; the privileges of this university being so extensive, that the States-general cannot arrest any of its students, except for the crime of assassination. Having succeeded in obtaining the insertion of my name in the register, by means of a few ducats, which I gave to Professor REBELLION OF 1745. 40l> Gaubeiis, I returned immediately to the Hague, where we learned, a few days afterwards, that Prince Charles had escaped to France. The desire of seeing him again, and the hope of another attempt in his favour, determined me to abandon my resolution of going to Russia j and piy fate was decided, for the rest of my days, by my arrival in Paris towards the end of the year 1746. The pleasures of this capital soon made me forget my past sufferings, and blinded me even as to the future. I remained in a kind of lethargy, allowing the opportunities of being advantageously employed in Russia or Spain to escape, in the hope that the court of France would make another attempt to re-establish the affairs of Prince Charles in Scotland ; and it was not till the Prince was arrested, in 1748, and sent out of the kingdom, in consequence of the treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle, that my eyes were opened. I was then forced to think of the means of subsistence, and to procure for myself some situation. The Marchioness Dowager of Mezieres and Lady Ogilvie having strongly re- commended me to the Marquis of Puysieulx, then secretary of state for foreign affairs, that minister immediately took me under his parti- cular protection, and granted me, from the be- gining of the year 1749, two thousand two hundred livres, out of tlie fund of forty thousand livres, which his majesty ordered to be distri- buted in annual pensions amongst the unfortunate 410 MEMOIRS OF THE Scots who had had the good fortune to escape to France, with the loss of their estates, and to avoid death on a scaffold in England. Seeing M. Puysieulx very much disposed to favour me, and imagining that I should recom- mend myself still more to his esteem and good graces by entering into the service, and en- deavouring to render my youth useful, instead of living in idleness at Paris on the bounty of the King, which I had obtained through this minister, I entreated him to procure me a com- pany of infantry at St. Domingo or Martinique. As all the Scots in the suite of Prince Charles had been allowed by the Count d*Argenson the same rank in the service of France which they held in that of the Prince in Scotland, and as I was the oldest captain in his army, my com- mission being dated the 21st of September, 1745, the Prince having given it to me on the very evening of the battle of Gladsmuir, immediately after our return to Pinky-house, where he passed the night, I had every reason to expect the same treatment ; more especially as the Marquis d*Eguille, the envoy from France with Prince Charles in Scotland, gave repeated assurances to every one, that, should our expedition ter- minate unfortunately, all the commissions of Prince Charles would be ratified by the King of France ; and that all those who succeeded in escaping to France should have the same rank in the service of that crown that they enjoyed in the army of Prince Charles. REBELLION OF 1745. 411 However, M. Rouillé, the new minister of the marine, who was better acquainted with the trade of India than with military affairs, instead of acceding to the demand of M. de Puysieulx, for a company for me, ordered an ensign's com- mission to be made out for me, in the troops detached from the marine to the island of Cape- Breton. This commission I refused at first with indignation and obstinacy, being unable to brook the idea of a retrogression so mortifying and revolting to an officer, who had always served with honour ; and it was only in con- sequence of the reiterated orders of M. de Puy- sieulx, joined to his assurances that he would not leave me long in the degrading situation of a subaltern, after having served at the head of my company during the whole of the expedition of Prince Charles in Scotland, the progress of which, and the battles we gained against very superior numbers, had filled all Europe with astonishment ; that I at length consented to ac- cept it. I set out, therefore, immediately for Rochefort, with full confidence in the promises of M. de Puysieulx, to remain there in readiness for my embarkation for the island of Cape-Breton, the most wretched country in the universe. I found three half-pay officers at Rochefort 5 viz. le Chevalier de Montalembert, the Chevalier de Trion his cousin, and M. de Frene, who had also obtained employment at Quebec. Inti- macies are soon formed amongst military men, and the same destination inspired us with senti- 41^2 MEMOIRS OF THE ments of mutual friendship : I contracted this friendship the more readily, as they were all three of an excellent disposition, and most agree- able companions. We were ordered to embark on board the Iphigenie, a merchant vessel, freighted for the king, and belonging to M. Michel Roderique, a ship-owner of Rochelle. We accordingly left Rochefort ; and on our arrival at Rochelle, we found the crew of the Iphigenie in a state of mutiny, with the car- penter at their head, who insisted on making a declaration to the admiralty, that the ship was entirely rotten, and nowise in a condition to perform the voyage. Roderique invited us to dinner, and whilst we were at table, he incessantly assured us that his ship was in good condition ; that, if he had him- self occasion to go to Louisbourg, of which he was a native, he would embark in it with his family, in preference to any other ship in Rochelle ; and that the ill repute of the Iphi- genie arose from the jealousy of his brother ship- owners, who had seduced his crew, and excited them to mutiny. My comrades did not repose an entire confidence in the honied words of Roderique, but I was completely duped by him. Indeed, I could never have imagined that there existed on the earth a wretch so depraved, and so devoid of every feeling of Inunanity, as to expose three hundred people to destruction, for the sake of vile pelf. We had with us two hundred recruits on board, and there were, REBELLION OF 1745. 413 besides, a number of passengers, and the crew. Being myself convinced of the sincerity of Roderique, I had no great difficulty in gaining over my companions to my opinion, that the jealousy of the ship-owners had really given rise to disadvantageous reports respecting the Iphi- genie j and having quieted the mutiny of the sailors, we all embarked on the 28th of June, ly^O; and the 29th, being St. Peter's day, we weighed anchor and set sail, with fine weather and a favourable wind. The third day from our departure, after doubling Cape Finisterre, we became convinced, when too late, of the perfidy of Roderique, and of the folly we had committed in believing him. The Iphigenie, which, according to the declar- ation of the crew in the mutiny, drew^ twelve inches of water in an hour, in the roads of Rochelle, drew twenty-four inches in the same space of time when we were in the open sea ; and M. Fremont, the master of the ship, being unable any longer to conceal from us its wretched state, demanded that we should come to an ar- rangement, in order that some of the soldiers might be continually pumping, and assisting him in the management of the vessel. As the crew only consisted of fourteen sailors in all, good and bad, they were insufficient for the duties of the ship, and M. de Montalembert, who was our commander, was obliged to employ sixteen soldiers, to take their turns along with 414» MEMOIRS OF THE the sailors at the puinp, who were relieved every quarter of an hour. Some time after, we had another fatal proof of the complete rottenness of our ship, in the loss of our mizen-mast, which fell upon the deck, and nearly carried away our main-mast in its fall. The socket, rotten like the rest of the ship, having given way, the end of the mizen- mast entered the cabin, by penetrating the boards. M. de Montalembert, who happened to be opposite at the time, miraculously escaped being crushed to death, by springing aside. It was fortunate for us that this accident happened at nine o'clock in the morning, in very fine weather, and when we had little wind, as this enabled the sailors in a short time to cut the mast and shrouds with the axe ; for otherwise we should have run the greatest risk of perishing immediately. All our hopes of escaping death were in the arms of our soldiers, and in a con- tinuation of good weather, as it was then sum- mer. But, alas ! our hopes were vain, as far as regarded the weather, for we afterwards ex- perienced as violent gales as if it had been the middle of winter. A gust of wind, whilst we were off the Azores, carried away our top-masts and our sails, tearing the latter in shreds as if they had been sheets of paper; a heavy sea drowned our sheep and poultry, and deprived us of all our refreshments ; and, to add to our misery, our water, which Roderique, in his atrocious and abominable avarice, had put into REBELLION OF 1745. 415 old wine-barrels, became altogether corrupted in less than five weeks after our departure, black as ink, stinking like the pestilence, so as to be totally unfit for use. But these were trifling evils compared with our deplorable and alarming situation. Death was constantly staring us in the face, and the idea was constantly imprinted on our minds, that the Ipliigenie would some day go to the bottom with us. When the wind was favourable, we durst only carry very little sail, least we should lose our other two masts in the way we lost our mizen-mast. We were thus without any prospect of a speedy termination to our cruel distress and sufferings, and thoroughly convinced that they would be of long duration, and that we should at least be long in a state of suspense between life and death. Having experienced nine difïërent gales since the â9th of June, when we put to sea. Heaven reserved for us the tenth, a dreadful storm off the banks of Newfoundland : this was on the 10th of September. We had a dead calm dur- ing the whole of the day of the 9th ; but at midnight the wind began to rise, and continued increasing till it became a most furious tempest. M. Fremont came into the cabin at nine o'clock in the morning, to warn us to prepare for death. He told us that our only hopes of being saved, and not being immediately swallowed up by the waves, now depended on our offering up vows. He added, that the crew had just made a vow to St. Nicholas, having promised to cause a grand 416 MEMOIRS OF THE mass to be performed at Louisbourg, if it should please God to deliver us from the imminent dan- ger in which we were; and he invited us to join them in it, as the only means of preserving our existence. Sad and feeble resource Î How- ever, we each of us gave him a crown of six francs, to be added to the contribution of the sailors for this grand mass.* I clambered up on deck to see the state in which we were, but my eyes could scarcely bear for a moment the terrific view of the ocean, which formed monstrous waves, like pointed and moving mountains, consisting of several gradations of hills : from their summits rose great spouts of foam, which assumed all the colours of the rainbow ; they were so high that our vessel seemed to be in a valley at the foot of these mountains, every wave threatening us with destruction, and to precipitate us into the bottomless deep. It was a grand majestic spec- tacle of horror, which might have been beheld with admiration from the land. We were at the mercy of the storm, without sails, as we could * Having experienced violent gales in the Baltic, on my return from Russia, on board Mr. Walker's ship, where all the crew were English, the difference which I observed between the English and French sailors was this, that the English sailors swear and work at the same time to the very last, and, as long as they can, keep their heads above water ; whilst the French have more confidence in their vows than in their arms. It seems to me that a just medium would not be amiss. — Author. REfeELLIOX OF 1745. 417 carry none ; the rolling was truly terrible, and the ship was laid so flat on her side by every wave, that her keel was frequently out of water. The sailors attempted to put up the sail of dis- tress to assist the ship ; but it was immediately carried away by the wind, like a sheet of paper. Having regained the cabin as fast as I could, though not without some difficulty and several bruises, I found M.duFrene striking his feet with great violence against the partition. ** Morbleu!'* said he to me, *' is it not a hard case to perish in this manner, after having escaped in a hell of a fire, at the siege of Bergen-op-zoom, with the grenadiers of the regiment of Lowendahl ?" M. de Montalembert quietly shed a torrent of tears; and the Chevalier de Trion, a young man about twenty years of age, who appeared very little affected wath our dreadful situation, told me that he had made his peace before our departure from Rochefort. It would seem as if the longer we Hve, the more unwilling we are to quit life. The contrasts of the different characters which the same event affected so very differently, would have been a noble subject for a painter. I was resigned to die, as I always had been in all my difficulties, at the time when I endea- voured to flee the scafïbld ; that is to say, sub- mitting myself with patience to a fatal destiny which there are no means of avoiding sooner or later ; for human nature shudders at destruction when we are in health, and in cool blood. ..,No man is willing to die when he can preserve E E 41 s MEMOIRS OF THE his life without ignominy, and when it is not a burden to him. Virtue, valour, the love of duty, glory, and patriotism may lead men to brave death ; but they preserve always, at the bottom of their hearts, that natural repugnance to it, which makes them tremble involuntarily when the fatal moment approaches. The most intrepid man will not here contradict me if he is sincere. Outwardly, I had a great appear- ance of tranquillity ; but my mind was, at the same time, agitated and tormented with imagin- ing w^hat there was behind the curtain, which was so soon to be drawn. We were told that Fremont had fallen down dead ; but it was only a fainting fit, which passed over in a quarter of an hour. It was the ambition of this foolish animal to command a ship, which had plunged us in this disaster ; and he was as cowardly and faint-hearted in the hour of danger, as he was insolent and impertinent in good weather. I passed the whole day in reading the Psalms of David, and plunged at the same time in re- flections on a future existence, and on the im- mortality of the soul. I recalled to my remem- brance M^hat WoUaston says, which appeared to me the most satisfactory of all I had ever read, on a subject that no mortal can ever clear up. About three o'clock in the afternoon, a wave broke through the port-holes of the cabin, and inundated the Chevalier de Trion, who was lying on his bed : as he was soaked with the sea water, I invited him to lie down wàth me in. the 16 REBELLION OF 1745. 419 bed which had been assigned me at the entry of the cabin. We had now great difficulty in pre- vaihng on our soldiers to continue at the pump ; and indeed these poor wretches suffered very much, for every instant the waves broke over them with such violence, as almost to force them into the sea. The Clievalier de Trion made continual rounds between decks, to induce them to ascend, as the sergeants, at this critical mo- ment, had lost all authority over them, and it was only by menaces and hard usage, that he could succeed with them. They would say to him, that, as destruction was inevitable, it was better to perish between decks than to be carried away by the waves, or to be dashed to pieces on deck. Several of our soldiers were wounded ; tlie waves breaking on deck with an astonishing force, which threw them frequently from one side of the ship to the other. About ten o'clock in the evening, the car- penter, who was a droll fellow, and a complete harlequin, but very active and laborious when necessary, came to work near the door of my bed, where I was lying with the Chevalier de Trion. Having asked him if there was any thing new, he replied, " Oh ! yes, gentlemen ; great news, very great news, the fore-part of the ship has opened, and the water now enters by bucket-fulls ; the soldiers having worked long at the pump, without being able to make head against it, the pump has at length broken, and a wave has passed over the deck, which has E E ^2 420 MEMOIRS OF THE covered their clothes with sand ; so, gentlemen, we shall soon be at the devil, and in less than an hour we shall all drink of the same cup." It is a curious circumstance that there are some cha- racters capable of joking, even to the last mo- ment of existence, whilst the approach of danger deprives others of all sensation, who appear dead, long before they really are so. My conscience, that internal and concealed light, as a Chinese author expresses it, did not reproach me with the commission of any great crimes ; but only with such faults, as the heat and giddiness of youth occasion through thought- lessness ; and my mind having been absorbed all day in the most serious reflections, I at length felt a drowsiness and inclination to sleep come on me, which I wished to encourage. I said to the Chevalier de Trion, that I should be very glad if I could pass the barrier between this and the other world when asleep, and that I was desirous of making the attempt. We then ten- derly took leave of each other ; and turning my face towards the boards, I immediately fell into a deep sleep, out of which I was never once awaked by the continual passing in and out of the cabin of the Chevalier de Trion. I slept from half-past ten at night till seven in the morn- ing ; and when I awoke, I rather supposed myself in the other world than in this. The Chevalier de Trion immediately told me how" fortunate I had been ; that the whole night through they expected every moment the ship REBELLION OF 174^. 4-21' would go to the bottom; that I had thus escaped many painful sensations, which I must have ex- perienced had I been awake ; that they had bound the ship with cables to prevent it splitting open altogether; that as soon as the carpenter had mended the pump, the soldiers, who had worked the whole night through like galley- slaves, had succeeded in clearing the vessel of water ; that the wind and sea were now greatly calmed j. and that, for this time, we were thought out of danger. How narrow a space separates pain from pleasure ! Very fine weather, with a favourable breeze, succeeded, about ten o'clock in the morning, to this violent tempest, and im- mediately raised our drooping spirits, and obli- terated from our minds our sufferings, which we usually forget more easily than our enjoyments. We had frequently suspected that Fremont knew nothing of navigation ; but at length we became perfectly satisfied of his ignorance, which might have cost us dear indeed. M. Lion, the second in command of the Iphigenie, told us that, by his journal, we were very near the coast of the island of Cape-Breton, although by Fre- mont's journal we were still two hundred leagues from it. The difference in their reckoning made us lirieasy, and indeed it would have been very hard to have been shipwrecked upon the rocks, with which this isle is completely surrounded, the very moment afiter escaping from the tem- pest. I determined to pass the whole night on deck, and told my brother-officers, that as they E E 3 422 MEBIOIRS OF THE had watched over my safety while I slept pro- foundly the preceding night, I should now watch over theirs in my turn. We were all much more inclined to believe M. Lion than the other, and we begged him to remain on deck with me till day-break. It was a very fine star- light night, and though there was no moon, there was a brightness in the sky, the whole night through, like a twilight, which enabled us to see to a considerable distance. M. Lion placed a sailor at the ship's head, to remain con- tinually on the look out. Heavens ! how agree- ably were we surprised, when, about two o'clock in the morning of the 12th of September, he called out that he saw land. M. Lion and myself immediately sprang towards him, and in less than ten minutes we could distinctly see the coast at a distance of about three hundred toises from us. They immediately tacked about and stood to sea, whilst I ran down to acquaint my comrades with the good news, awaking them as agreeably as I had been myself awaked the morning before. When day appeared, Fremont, who had al- ready made a voyage to Louisbourg, pretended that he knew the land we saw perfectly well ; that it was L^ Indienne y a settlement of the island of Cape-Breton, sixteen leagues north of Louis- bourg ; and he immediately gave orders for steering southwards. As we had every reason to believe that we should reach Louisbourg; in the course of the day, we dressed ourselves, and REBELLION OF 1745. 423 kept ourselves in readiness for going on shore ; but at three o'clock in the afternoon, when we were at the mouth of a port, which Fremont took for that which we had so long and so ardently looked for, he hailed a boat, which passed near us, to know if this was not the port of Louisbourg.- He was answered by a demand to know the name of the ignorant fool in the command of a ship, who sought Louisbourg in the port of Thoulouse, a settlement twenty leagues to the south of it. We thus ascer- tained, when too late, that it was the port of Louisbourg we had seen in the morning, but that a cruel fatality had blindfolded Fremont. This disappointment vexed us exceedingly. 1 urged M. de Montalembert strongly to land at port Thoulouse with our detachment, to proceed to Louisbourg by land ; but Fremont frightened him by declaring, that if he took this step he should be responsible for the cargo. We were,„ however, well entitled to have done so, on ac- count of the bad state of the ship, and the dangers to which we should have been exposed, had we been driven out to sea by a contrary wind. Having had fine weather the whole night, and a light favourable breeze, we entered the port of Louisbourg next morning, the 13th of Septem- ber, to the great astonishment of all the inhabit- ants of this town, who supposed us to have perished at sea; for a small vessel which left Rochelle at the same time with us, and on board E E 4 424 MEMOIRS OF THE of which were Madame du Hagette, and two officers of the colony, had performed the passage in fifty days, while ours had taken up seventy- six days, and had reported the wretched state of our ship. The quays were crowded with people, who came to congratulate us on our happy deli- verance, and w^ho viewed the ruinous state of the Iphigenie with surprise and admiration. Next day the crew of our vessel made a proces- sion, with no other covering on their bodies than their shirts, to the church, where a grand mass was performed; in the getting up of which no money was spared, agreeably to their vows during the tempest. It was wished to send back the Iphigenie to France ; but the crew having lodged a complaint with the admiralty, an in- spection took place, and she was condemned to be broken up immediately, * * We were not long at Louisbourg, before we learned the powerful protection of the Iphigenie. Roderique was in partnership with M. Prévôt, the principal commissary at the island of Quebec, and M. Prévôt again was in partnership with M. de la Porte, the principal clerk in the Bureau de la Marine. It was not therefore astonishing, that the inspec- tors at Rochefort shut their eyes as to the state of the vessels taken up for the King ; and the unfortunate sailors would have been obliged to return to France, in this rotten ship, if the officers of the admiralty had not had more probity and humanity than the proprietors ; who, if the Iphigenie had gone to the bottom of the sea, would have lost nothing, as the ship and cargo were insured at their full value, and perhaps for more. What monsters the love of gain creates 1 — Author. REBELLION OF 1745. 425 As to Fremont, who had never ceased an- noymg us with his impertinence during the whole voyage, as soon as he landed I made him submit to a very different sort of procession, along the quay, under the blows of a cudgel, to the great amusement of all the officers of the island of Quebec ; but, above all, to the great satisfaction of my companions during the voyage, who had been daily exposed with myself to his stupidity and insolence. It was a truly laugh- able scene. He at first drew his sword, but either fearing that I should break the blade with my cudgel, which was both stout and heavy, or fearing that he might receive the blows on his face, every time I lifted my arm, he presented his shoulders with the best possible grace, to receive the blows, the effects of which he must certainly have felt for a long time. I have al- ways found cowardice and impertinence inse- parably united in the same person ; for the truly brave man is inoffensive, and never insults any one, however violent he may be, when personally injured. M. I'Oppinot, assistant-major of Louis- bourg, who witnessed the beginning of this scene, withdrew, that he might leave us at full liberty ; and only returned to order me to de- sist, when he thought Fremont had had a suf- ficiency of blows. I bestowed them with the more force and good-will, as he was the cause of all the trouble and dangers to which we had been exposed during this long and painful voyage, by concealing from us, at Rochelle, the 426 ^MEMOIRS OF THE miserable state of his ship, that was so com- pletely rotten, that the beams crumbled on being touched by the finger. Before I had staid a year at Louisbourg, I was thoroughly convinced of the folly I had com- mitted in accepting an ensign's commission, in conformity to the orders of M. de Puysieulx, and in hopes of a continuation of his protection. When the dispatches of the court arrived, there was not the least mention of my advancement, and M. de Puysieulx having quitted the foreign department, his successor, M. de St. Contest, im- mediately struck out my name from the list of Scotsmen, in the suite of Prince Charles, who received pensions from his Majesty. How strange the caprices of fortune ! Having been attached to the artillery with my company, dur- ing the expedition in Scotland, as a fixed escort, though my commission of captain made no men- tion of that destination. Prince Charles, in the list which he delivered to the court of France, gave me the title of captain of artillery. I received twelve hundred livres in 1746 j my pension was augmented in 17^9, to two thou- sand and odd hundred livres ; and now, in ly^l, I found myself at Louisbourg, degraded to the rank of ensign, from the ignorance of M. Rouillé in military affairs. I was the only individual of all the Scots officers subjected to this morti- fication. M. Rouillé sent to Cape-Breton of- ficers without experience, to fill the vacant com- panies and lieutenancies, whilst he refused to REBELLION OF I74f5. 4'27 do me the justice of ratifying my commission of captain under Prince Charles Edward, — a rati- fication which the Count d' Argenson had granted to all my countrymen ; although I had no more than four hundred and eighty livres per annum of pay, a sum quite insufficient to pay my board in the most wretched public-house of Louis- bourg. Fortune blinds the world in a singular man- ner, and impels us, in spite of ourselves, towards the fate that she destines for us. If I have not succeeded in procuring a sufficiency for the evening of my life, I cannot accuse myself of any error of judgment in the means which I em- ployed to attain that object ; for, when I recall the whole of my past life to my remembrance, I do not see how I could have acted otherwise than I have done ; and, if it were to begin again, I should yield to the same illusions, under the impression of my following the most rational course. Man can only judge and act from the appearances which seem most likely to conduct him to the objects he has in view ; and if, through strange and unaccountable effects, which he could not foresee, the course which he takes, on the apparent probability of its being the best, turns out to be quite the contrary, what else can he do than consider himself as a grain of sand driven about by chance, that un- just tyrant, who governs and disposes of all our actions according to his caprice ? All the misery which must now necessarily accompany me to MEMOIRS OF THE the grave, as it is almost out of the power of fortune to afford me relief at my time of life, dates its commencement from the moment I • consented to accept the commission of ensign, in 1750, on the repeated assurances of M, le Puy- sieulx, that he would certainly procure me a company without delay. M. Rouillé was then, according to all appearances, the only minister in any court of Europe who would have taken it upon him to dishonour the commission of Prince Charles, by degrading, in this manner, an officer in his army in Scotland. How could I refuse to confide in the promises of M. de Puy- sieulx, who had already given me so many con- vincing proofs of his esteem and favourable dis-^ position? He had allowed me two thousand two hundred livres from the funds, granted to the Scots in 1749 ; and he was so much dis- posed to favour me, that if I had asked a per- manent pension on this fund, of 1500 livres, it would have been at once granted to me. Wa« it not natural to suppose, that the desire I mani- fested of rendering my youth useful to the King and the state, rather merited recompense than punishment ? Is it as meritorious in a young man to pass his time at Paris in effeminacy and pleasure, which I, with my pension on the Scots' list, might have done, as to embrace so arduous an employment as thatof an officer who discharges his duty conscientiously, continually exposed to dangers of every kind, the body worn out with excessive fatigue, and the con- REBEÏ-LION OF 1745. 4.^9 stitutioiî ruined by bad food, with a thousand other inconveniences which necessarily attend the severe profession of arms ? Could I ever imagine that I should see in the service of France cowards who dishonour the name of officer, and whose only service has consisted in pillaging and robbing the King, and enriching themselves at the public expense, received with open arms in the government offices of Ver- sailles ; while, at the same time, a son of a pastry-cook, and the son of a menial of the wardrobe *, would be the channels of intro- duction to officers who had passed their lives in disinterested service, who had been continually occupied with the good of the army, and with the wish to render themselves useful ? I own that I could never have formed a just idea of the abuses in the service in France, had I not experienced them ; having always supposed that honour, good conduct, and great knowledge of the military art, were the only means of arriving at distinction, in every service in the world. M. des Herbiers having succeeded in obtain- ing from the court his recall, the Heureux^ commanded by the Chevalier de Caumont, was sent to Louisbourg, with the Count de Raimond, to succeed him in the government of Quebec, and bring him back to France. Seeing the for- getfulness and negligence of my protectors in procuring me suitable promotion, and the im- * Messieurs Berranger and Coutereau, 430 MEMOIRS OF THE possibility of my living at Louisbourg on tour hundred and eighty livres a year, this worthy and respectable gentleman felt for my situation. In his friendship for me, he had obtained from the new governor permission for me to return to Europe with him in the Heureux j he suc- ceeded, at the same time, in procuring the con- sent of M. de Caumont, to my coming on board ten or twelve days before our departure, that I might make up for the bad cheer to which I had been subjected for a year during my stay at Louisbourg. Our fare, in winter, consisted solely of salted cod, with dried peas and bacon ; and, in summer, of fresh fish with rancid salt butter and bad oil. I was now familiarised to an uninterrupted train of misfortunes, chequered by no ray of prosperity. Two hours after I was on board, the moment we were sitting down to supper, our ship was nearly blown up ; and, had there been the least wind, we must have inevit- ably perished. A fire broke out in a vessel close to the Heureux, loaded with rum and oil ; and, in an instant, it was wholly in flames. All the boats in the harbour came immediately with grappling irons, to draw off the vessel on tire, and strand it in such a way as to prevent its com- municating the fire to the rest of the shipping ; and it was with the utmost difficulty this object was effected. This ship passed very near to us. If the grappling irons had given way we should all have been ruined. It is impossible to con- ceive the disorder that prevailed on board our REBELLION OF 1745. 431 ship during the alarm : some called out to cut the cable ; others to veer it ; a hundred voices were heard giving different orders at the same time. Nothing was done j and the crew did not know whom to obey. If I were in the command of a vessel in any pressing danger, with a pair of pistols before me, I should enforce silence ; so that the orders of the captain might be heard and executed. On returning to table, as soon as the danger was over, the dear and worthy M. des Herbiers told us, that during the catas- trophe he could not help thinking continually of me, and of my adverse fate in embarking just in time to meet destruction. We left Louisbourg in the month of August, 1751, and arrived, in fifty days, in the roads of Rochelle ; having only experienced one violent gale on the passage, which lasted 48 hours, and alarmed the officers of the ship very much ; but as it was much inferior to the most of the gales to which I had been exposed the preceding year, on board the Iphigenie, and as the vessel was in an excellent state, and capable of resist- ing, I suffered no other uneasiness than that occasioned by the interruption to our good cheer ; for, whilst it lasted, no cooking could take place, and we were reduced to ham with biscuit instead of new bread. There were twenty officers on board the Heureux, which was a ship of sixty-four guns. One of these officers, called Bordet, was an excellent sailor, but a great drunkard, and always intoxicated as early 43â MEMOIRS OF THE as seven o'clock in the morning. His brother* officers had so much deference for him, and so much confidence in his nautical skill, that they made him go on deck, and take the command during the storm, where, being unable to stand firmly on his legs, they placed him in an arm- chair, from which he gave his orders, like an emperor upon his throne. The magnificence of the table on board a French man-of-war is incredible. Here we meet with all the elegance which it is possible to display on shore. The captains of the English navy can never imitate this ; for, on receiving sailing orders from the Admiralty, (which re- ceives a regular return, every day, of the state of the vessels in all the ports of the kingdom,) they must put to sea with the first favourable wind, and cannot remain two or three weeks in port to lay in provisions for the table of the officers, as the French vessels sometimes do. The English captains are often obliged to put up with salt beef and bacon, like the sailors ; with this difference only, that the officers are allowed to have the choice of the pieces. The utmost care is, indeed, taken by the Commis- sioners of the Admiralty that all the provisions for the navy be of a good quality, and in good condition. On my arrival at Paris I made every endeavour to get myself replaced on the list of those Scots, in the suite of Prince Charles, who received gratifications from his Majesty j feeling as I REBELLION OF 171«'J'. 433 then did the egregious folly I had committed in renouncing it. But M. de St. Contest always replied, to all my protectors, " that they were endeavouring to ruin a young man who might make his way in the army." Seeing all my endeavours in tliis respect unavailing, I now exerted myself to get a company, and M. Rouillé was warmly solicited in my favour, by M. de Puysieulx, the Prince Constantin de Rohan, now cardinal, the Prince de Montauban his brother. Lord Thomond, and Lord Maris- chal, the friend of my uncle in Russia, and then in Paris in quality of ambassador of the King of Prussia. If I had at that time had as perfect a knowledge of the government offices as 1 have since acquired by experience, I should have been more successful with much less protection ; but I was then unacquainted with the omnipo- tence of the clerks, the crooked paths which it was necessary to tread in order to arrive at any object, and the irresistible influence of petticoats, which force open all the barriers to fortune. Though I am now acquainted with this marvellous key for opening a door to the reward of merit and demerit, I have never made use of it. M. Rouillé gave my friends every possible assurance that their demand in my favour would be complied with ; and M. de la Porte assured me, at the same time, that I should find my commission at Louisbourg, on my arrival there. This minister sent me an order, towards the end of May, to repair to Rochefort ; and F F 434 MEMOIRS OF THE M. de St. Contest having given me a grati- jfication to defray, in part, the expenses of my journey, I immediately left Paris, not indeed confiding in their promises, for I had received as many the year before, and, when once de- ceived, I seldom bestow my confidence in the same quarter a second time ; but I saw no other course open to me, than that of returning to Louisbourg. If I had been in possession of sufficient funds, I should undoubtedly have then quitted France, and endeavoured to obtain employment in some other service ; but the want of money forges chains that cannot pos- sibly be broken, and binds for ever the unfor- tunate man' to his wretched condition. This want forms the certain and infallible means of which fortune avails herself to crush and immo- late her victims. I embarked at Rochelle towards the end of June, 1752, on board the Sultane, a merchant ship of three hundi'ed tons, freighted for the King, and commanded by^M. Roxalle, a man of abilities and education, extremely obliging, and every way the reverse of Fremont. There were three other passengers on board, viz. M. Pen- sence, a captain of Cape- Breton ; M. Lery, an officer of Canada, and M. de Gaville, son of the intendant of Rouen, who was placed at Louis- bourg, having been formerly in the French guards. We had a very long and wearisome passage, on account of the bad weather and contrary winds, which prevailed almost con- REBELLION OF 174'ô. 43.^ tintially, and without interruption. We were eighty days at sea. I thought it impossible for the elements to form a more terrible tempest than what we had experienced in the Iphigenie on the 10th of September, 1750 ; but we en- countered a still more furious storm on the ^2d of September, 1752, on board the Sultane. M. Roxalle, who had passed forty years of his life at sea, had never seen its equal ; and it gave him such a distaste to a sea-life that he quitted it upon his return to Rochelle. If this tempest had taken place when I was on board the Iphi- genie, such a rotten ship could not have resisted it for a moment ; but the Sultane was a new vessel, which had only made one voyage to the coast of Guinea. As the description of this tempest, which M. Roxalle entered in his log-book, appeared to me curious, I took a copy of it, which is as follows : " From Friday at noon, to Saturday at noon, âd Sept. 1752, the wind S. S. E. to S. W., till eight o'clock in the evening ; steered to W. N. W. two degrees west ; in this route making sixteen leagues. Then the wind to the S. W. and aug- menting, we took in all our sails, and lay to, with our mizen, having taken down our mizen-yard. The wind continues always to increase, with a violence beyond expression, the sea horribly heaving, and in a state of corruscation — passing over us it seemed all on fire. — I never in my life witnessed such dreadful weather, nor such an appearance of danger. We have always, by p F *2 436 MEMOIRS OF THE the aid and assistance of the Lord kept ourselves up, our vessel standing it as well as could be hoped for in such a terrible storm, and not daring to venture under the mizen for fear of being swallowed up by the sea. " At ten o'clock the violence of the gale un- did our great sail to the wind. God be thanked we had time to secure it with earings. It is much torn, but we have saved it. We have brought the yard to the socket. " An hour and a half after midnight the wind carried away our mizen. It began to fail at the point of the sheet. The rest followed. Nothing of it remained but the bolt ropes. " The jib, middle jib, and the top-gallant sail had the same fate — though they were very light, the violence of the wind undid them and carried them away, and the mizen top-sail yard broke by the middle. When this last sail gave way it cruelly affected our mizen-mast : I wished to cut it, but when the axe was already raised, the wind having carried off the whole of the sail, by the grace of God we preserved our mast. ** At three o'clock a gale drove in the star- board window of the great cabin, which let in a great deal of water, which fell on M. de J * * * •, who was in bed there. " At four o'clock our tiller broke ; we put a capstern bar at the head of the helm in the great cabin to hold it. *' At six o'clock in the morning the wind be- came kss terrible, and shortly afterwards it gave UKIÎELLION OF 174.5. 437 way. At present (noon), we hope that the gale is over ; but we can only attribute our safety in the imminent peril in which we were, to the goodness and mercy of God. May he in his abundant grace continue to have us in his holy keeping. " The half of our poultry were drowned in their cages."- Being in bed in the great cabin, where thei'e was no light, 1 heard, about midnight, the voice of M. Pensence, who, in falling, exclaimed that he had killed himself. I called to him several times, and receiving no answer, I thought him either dead or in a swoon. As his servant could give him no assistance, having disabled himself a little before by a similar fall, I sprang from my bed, got a lantern, in order to take him up ; but I was no sooner in a situation to have a sight of the deck, than a wave burst over my head, which made me drink salt water in abundance. I re- turned to the great cabin as well as I could, and in a great rage ; and having changed my linen and clothes, I threw myself down upon my bed, fully determined, if Pensence should break his neck a thousand times, not to stir again. He was an amiable Gascon, and so droll that his exclamations made me sometimes laugh, not- withstanding our horrible situation. He had come to France the year before, to obtain the cross of St. Louis, with the intention of retiring from the service, and living in his native place.; and-the court had bestowed this favour on him F 1' 3 438 MEMOIRS OF THE on condition of his return to Louisbourg, and receiving it there. During the danger, Pen- sence continually repeated, " Accursed and ex- ecrable cross ! — If I had foreseen the horrible position in which we now are, all the orders of Europe should not have tempted me to embark. — What had I to do with this miserable cross ? Could not I have lived quietly and happily in Gascony without it ?" In short, as long as the tempest endured, we heard nothing but the same exclamations and the same regrets. The second ducking, which I received through the windows of the great cabin, distressed me beyond measure, for I was obliged to remain with my clothes wet. The wave having fallen on my trunk, and at the same time on my bed, every article I had was as much wet with the sea water as the clothes upon my back. A petty officer gave me his bed ; but it was destined that I should be no where at my ease during the tem- pest. Part of every wave, which passed over the deck, entered through an opening into the bed, like a torrent, and fell on my legs. How- ever we arrived at Louisbourg on the 14th of September. If it had not been for the weather, our passage would have been agreeable enough, from the great quantity of provisions and refresh- ments of every kind with which we had been supplied, by M. Pascaut, the ship-owner, a very different man from the avaricious wretch, Rod- erique, who, no doubt imagining that the Iphi- genie was to go to the bottom, thought it useless REBELLION OF l^éfÔ. 439 to supply US with any thing to render us com- fortable on our passage. The bad climate of Louisbourg, where the sun is sometimes not visible for a whole month ; the extreme wretchedness which prevailed there, as we could not -have a morsel of fresh meat at any price ; the society of the women of the country, very amiable no doubt, but who had cards con- tinually in their hands, so that my pay would not allow me to be daily of their parties ; all contri- buted to inspire me with a taste for reading and retirement, and a philosophic mode of life. I seldom quitted my chamber except to do my duty, which I performed with the most scrupu- lous exactness, or to go a fishing for trouts once or twice a week, with my servant St. Julien, who was an excellent Jack of all trades, for the pur- pose of supplying my table, when we brought home from eight to ten dozen of trouts, which we caught with the line in the course of a couple of hours ; the streams in the neighbourhood abounding in fish. Puysegur, Polybius, with the commentaries of Folard, Feuquiere, Vege- tius, the commentaries of Caesar, Turenne, Mon- tecuculi, the Roman History, Prince Eugene, Josephus, Vauban, and other books of the same kind, served to kill the time, and to withdraw my attention from my situation ; for I had not obtained my advancement, but only the office of interpreter of the King, which produced me annually four hundred livres of increased pay ; F F 4 440 . MEMOIRS OF THE and to dissipate the gloomy ideas which, other- wise, would have thrown me into despair. I had a little garden before the windows of my apartment, which St. Julien had brought into cultivation, and which served me as a place of recreation, when I was tired with reading, or when my eyes were fatigued. I enjoyed a real and complete satisfaction from tlie esteem and friendship of all my comrades, which it was no easy matter to retain ; for the corps of the island of Cape-Breton, composed of more than a hun- dred officers, was divided into three factions ; those who had been longest in the island, those who had come from Canada, and the half-pay officers from France, placed on service at Louis- bourg. All the three factions detested one an- other, and were continually at variance. On my joining the corps, I declared that I would not enter into their cabals; that I would not interfere in any manner with their disputes, nor share their animosities ; that I should choose my friends wherever 1 might find them to my taste ; and that standing alone, and being of no party, I should defend myself against all those who might insult me, or endeavour to fasten a quar- rel on me. Thus by an exact neutrality, which I always strictly observed, I had the good will of every body, and listened to the horrible accu- sations which these officers were every day re- peating to me against each other, without ever committing myself j that is, I listened to them without ever returning any answer. REBELLION OF 1745. 441 The Count de Raimond, who gave me daily marks of his esteem and favour, having de- manded my promotion, I received a lieutenancy in 1754 ; by which, with my office of inter- preter, I enjoyed a larger income than the cap- tains ; but I was by no means pleased with my situation. Convinced of the folly of placing any reliance on promises, I formed the reso- lution of returning to France that year, for the purpose of either obtaining a company, or en- deavouring to obtain employment in some other service. I considered this voyage the more in- dispensable, as I was on bad terms with the principal commissary ever since the first year of my arrival at Louisbourg ; who, by means of his partners in commerce, was all-powerful in the bureau of the marine, and always supported, in opposition to the governors, M. des Herbiers, and M. de Raimond, who incessantly, but fruit- lessly, complained to the court of his thefts from the magazines, and other infamous acts. He was a complete knave ; proud and vain as a pea- cock, and of the most obscure origin. He had a beautiful and amiable wife, of whom he was so jealous that even her shadow filled him with alarm. He was always on the look-out for oc- casions to injure me and to give me pain. His attempts were, however, unavailing at Louis- bourg ; for by discharging my duty with the utmost exactness, I always retained the esteem and friendship of my superiors. Indeed the wretchedness of my situation could not easily 4'k2 MEMOIRS OF THE be augmented, buffeted as I was by fortune, in addition to my sufferings from the miserable climate, and the badness of the food. Being thus in extreme misery, 1 had the melancholy satisfaction of reflecting that my situation could not become worse.* At length the capture of Louisbourg, in 17'^8, released me from purga- tory, in which I was subject to evils of every * The Sieur Jacques Prévost was so abhorred, not only by all the officers of the corps of the island of Cape-Breton, but also by the regiments of Artois and Burgundy, that no officer, from the commandant down to the ensign, ever en- tered his door. When the English fleet appeared before Louisbourg in 1757, all the troops instantly marched out to line the entrenchments des Ances, in the Bay of Gabarus, in order to oppose their landing. Mr. Guerin our surgeon- general having given to M. de St. Julien, the senior officer in command, a list of the quantity of lint, brandy, and other things necessary for the wounded ; Prévost, in answer to the application of M. de St. JuHen, told him "that there were none of the articles in question in the King's magazines ; that if the English should force our entrenchments, it was their business to take care of our wounded ; and if we re- pulsed the English, we should have time to attend to them." M. de St. Julien immediately carried this list with a com- plaint to M. de Bois de la Mothe, who instantly landed at nine o'clock in the evening, proceeded straight to the house of Prévost, and threatened to put him in irons, and send him off to France, if all the articles contained in the list were not supplied the following morning. They were accordingly supplied, to the great chagrin of this inhuman monster, who, in his hatred to the officers, wished that brave men should perish for want of assistance. He shed tears of rage. He contrived to make himself equally despised and detested by all the naval officers; and the Prince de Listenois always treated him as one of the refuse of the eartlï. — Author. REBELLION OF 174^5. 443 kind. Not wishing to be the prisoner of the same regiments of Lee, Warburton, and Las- celles, who had been our prisoners in Scotland, at the battle of Gladsmuir, in 1745, after the capitulation of the town, I made my escape to Nova Scotia, and thence into Canada. Hostilities having commenced in Nova Scotia in 1754, when I was upon the point of setting out for Europe, it did not appear proper that I should absent myself at such a critical period : I therefore resolved to continue where I was, hoping, by zeal and services, to obtain the ad- vancement, which I had not been able to effect, from the negligence and feeble efforts of my pro- tectors, who were certainly powerful enough to have improved my condition, had they chosen to exert themselves in my favour, as I was led to expect they would, from their promises, of which, in my credulity, I was the dupe. Having obtained a boat with fifty Canadians at Miramichi, in Nova Scotia, to conduct to Quebec fourteen English prisoners, who were land-officers, and captains of merchants' ships, I set out with them without delay. On enter- ing the gulpli of St. Laurence we perceived the English squadron, which instantly gave chace to us ; and we only escaped their frigates, by run- ning into one of the little ports, of which there are a great many along that coast. It was a for- tunate discovery ; for I found M. de PEchaf- faud at the mouth of the river, with five ships of the line, which he commanded, readv to sail for 444- MEMOIRS OF THE Europe, who, from not knowing that there was an EngHsh fleet in the gulph, might have fallen into their hands. To avoid them he passed through the straits of Belle Isle. I was very favourably received in Canada, par- ticularly by M. de Levis and M. de Montcalm, who soon honoured me with their esteem, con- fidence, and favour, in a very distinguished man- ner ; and M. Bigot, the intendant, who was in every thing the opposite of Prévost, and who took a pleasure in relieving the wants, and dimi- nishing the sufferings of the army, gave me from the stores a complete dress ; for I was quite naked, having left my trunk at Louisbourg, and having only taken with me a couple of shirts in my pockets. M. de Levis took me for his aide- de-camp, in the beginning of the campaign of 1759 ; and not having a sufficient number of en- gineers for the immense space which our camp occupied at Quebec, with a front of about two leagues, to fortify from the river St. Charles to the falls of Montmorency, I undertook to plan and conduct the entrenchments, redoubt, and battery on the left .of our camp where M. de Levis commanded, on condition that I should do so in my own way, and that the engin- eers should not interfere with me. My self-love was greatly flattered when the English, on the 31st of July, landed and attacked the works which I had constructed, and were repulsed with the loss of five hundred men. I was charged at the same time with the examination 19 REBELLIONT OF 1745. 445 of the prisoners and deserters, and with trans- lating their depositions into French. My occu- pations were so multipUed that I scarcely had an hour's sleep in the four-and-twenty. As it was impossible for M. de Levis to furnish me with bed-clothes, mattrass, or paillasse, having left my own at Carillon, I was obliged to sleep every night in my clothes, in his room, on chairs or on boards ; having never taken off my clothes dur- ing the whole campaign, except to change my linen, and seldom taken off my boots, except to change my stockings. Every morning I was exposed to the guns and musketry of the enemy, in visiting our advanced posts with M. de Levis. The day was passed in the same manner in carrying his orders, or in superintending my four hundred labourers ; and the night was spent either in replying to the messages, which were continually arriving, when M. de Levis slept, as I allowed him to sleep, unless something of great importance occurred, or in writing depositions and orders. Every body told me that I must have a constitution of iron to stand so much fatigue ; but I had three powerful motives to support me, and enable me to bear up against such excessive fatigue : first, my ambition to rise in the army, by rendering myself useful in the King's service ; secondly, my friendship and attachment to M. de Levis personally ; and, lastly, the uncertainty as to my fate, if I should be taken by the English, several regiments of their army having been our prisoners as MEMOIRS OF THE in Scotland, in 1745 ; so that I looked on the preservation of the colony as the preservation of my own existence. Pecuniary motives had no influence with me ; for I not only constantly re- fused the contract for the fascines, saucisso?is, and gahions, by which another officer gained twenty or thirty thousand livres ; but I always sent the Serjeants, who acted under me as over- seers, to receive payment from the intendant, agreeably to the statement given in, with orders to distribute, immediately, the money them- selves to the workmen. I saved for the King the proportion of wages corresponding to the half-days, and even the quarter-days of those who were absent at the calling over the names, which I did four times a-day. This amounted to a considerable sum, which I might have ap- propriated to myself according to the custom of the country at that time, if I had been destitute of probity, rectitude, and delicacy ; for, of four hundred workmen, whom I employed at twenty sols a-day, there were sometimes one hundred absent at the calling over the roll. M. de Levis was sent, in the beginning of August, to take the command at Montreal, on a false report, that a body of English troops were attempting to penetrate through the upper country ; and my portmanteau had already been sent off with his baggage, when M. de Mont- calm waited on him, the moment we were set- ting out, to beg of him to leave me beliind, on account of the knowledge I had of all our posts REBELLION OF 171.5. 41.7 at the fall of Montmorency, and our placets of defence in that quarter. M. de Levis gave his consent; and, as I loved him with the most sincere affection, I quitted him with the greatest regret, and with tears in my eyes, desiring ardently to finish the campaign with him. I accompanied him till we overtook the baggage, in order to get back my portmanteau ; and, having passed the night with him, I returned next day to M. de Montcalm, to continue my functions of aide-de-camp with him. That great man, worthy of a better fate, told me that he was very sensible of the sacrifice I had made in quitting M. de Levis ; but that I should have no cause to repent of it. And I must say that, on all occasions, he showed as much kindness and affection to me as if I liad been his own son. But his premature death gave me great cause to regret the change ; for I should not, otherwise, have known, as I did, the whole extent of his extraordinary merit, nor had occasion to lament his loss my whole hfe. The death of M. de Montcalm, who was killed at the battle of Quebec, on the 18th of Sep- tember, 1759, w^here my usual destiny precipi- tated me fruitlessly into a tremendous fire, to extricate me afterwards when on the point of sharing his fate, having put an end to the cam- paign of 1759 sooner than we had reason to expect, I resolved to return to France, with Mr. Cannon, in the latter end of the season. This voyage was absolutely essential to me, particu- 448 MEMOIRS OF THE lady as I was the oldest lieutenant of the corps of Canada, which enjoyed a rotation with that of the island of Cape-Breton, by my commission of 1754 ; and as there were three companies vacant in the troops of that colony, I was justly entitled, from my services, to expect one of them. But the Marquis de Vaudreuil abso- lutely refused to give me leave of absence, not- withstanding the urgent application of M. de Levis for that purpose; dreading, probably, that I should give a true account to the court of the particulars of that campaign, which irrevocably decided the fate of Canada. However, he gave me his word of honour that he would do me justice, and that 1 should have a company ; but as I still insisted in my demand for permission to return to France, he told me that if I teased him I should get nothing. At length, in I76O, the list of promotions arrived, when I found the companies disposed of to three officers younger than myself by several years, and without merit in their profession. One of the three was a son of a menial of the King's wardrobe, and of course enjoyed the protection of the heads of the public offices. What a service that of France is for a foreigner ! During the négociations at Montreal, for the general surrender of the colony by capitulation, I was far from being at my ease there, from my uncertainty of the treatment I should receive from the EngHsh ; and, as I could place no re- liance on the Marquis de Vaudreuil, it was high REBELLION OF 1745. 44 o 00 • 2 r-4 ITk X •v^ o o cr -) -5 ".■*."; i;r;::ijX"prpL'H;:;: 5HH - ■' " ;-^':. :;:: •