The collected writings of Dougal Graham "Skellat" Bellman of Glasgow: edited with notes: Together with a Biographical and Bibliographical Introduction, and a Sketch of the Chap Literature of Scotland: by George MacGregor: In two volumes |
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| XII. | CHAP. XII. |
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 | CHAP. XII. The collected writings of Dougal Graham |  |
CHAP. XII.
Sundry dangers and hardships on the main shore. Meets with six men who relieve him. Almost starved. Goes to Lochaber. Meets with Lochiel. Gets off from Moidart.
Now, the men of war being out of sight,
On the eighth of July, at eight at night,
The laird of MacKinnon, John by name,
With a pilot, guide, and four boat-men,
All on board with him they went,
To carry him to the Continent.
The night indeed was fair and clear;
But not above a mile they were,
Till wind and waves did rise in ire,
This providence we may admire,
Which seemed to be frowning on him,
The very waves striving to drown him,
And on their boat, came straight a-head,
A boat with men all well armed:
But the sea was high, the wind so blew,
And nought but present death in view,
They hail'd each other, and that was all,
It was no time to search or call:
Had not this storm proved their frien',
He'd surely in their clutches been.
And when they reached the main land,
Under the lee they're forc'd to stand,
The pilot ran her into a creek,
Got past the breakers, 'mong sand and sleik,
There they landed him and his guide,
And chus'd no longer to abide:
But to the sea again did go;
Because the storm did fiercely blow.
And as they were returning back,
A boat from Morar did them 'ttack;
And old MacKinnon was pris'ner made,
Being, by direction, to him led,
By a party who did the two pursue,
And the boat who of them had a view
The night before, when going over:
The facts of all they could discover,
At Morar, on his going back,
The laird MacKinnon they did take,
And prov'd the deed which he had done,
For which they sent him to London.
In Southwark goal long did he ly,
With heavy fetters did him ty,
Till in Forty Seven, the next year
By Act of Grace he got home clear.
On the eighth of July, at eight at night,
The laird of MacKinnon, John by name,
With a pilot, guide, and four boat-men,
All on board with him they went,
To carry him to the Continent.
The night indeed was fair and clear;
But not above a mile they were,
Till wind and waves did rise in ire,
This providence we may admire,
Which seemed to be frowning on him,
The very waves striving to drown him,
And on their boat, came straight a-head,
A boat with men all well armed:
But the sea was high, the wind so blew,
And nought but present death in view,
They hail'd each other, and that was all,
It was no time to search or call:
Had not this storm proved their frien',
He'd surely in their clutches been.
And when they reached the main land,
206
The pilot ran her into a creek,
Got past the breakers, 'mong sand and sleik,
There they landed him and his guide,
And chus'd no longer to abide:
But to the sea again did go;
Because the storm did fiercely blow.
And as they were returning back,
A boat from Morar did them 'ttack;
And old MacKinnon was pris'ner made,
Being, by direction, to him led,
By a party who did the two pursue,
And the boat who of them had a view
The night before, when going over:
The facts of all they could discover,
At Morar, on his going back,
The laird MacKinnon they did take,
And prov'd the deed which he had done,
For which they sent him to London.
In Southwark goal long did he ly,
With heavy fetters did him ty,
Till in Forty Seven, the next year
By Act of Grace he got home clear.
Now Charlie went to Glen-Brasdale,
Where he heard tell of brave Lochiel,
Who about Loch-aber was lurking there;
But to get to him great dangers were:
As a line was form'd from Inverness,
Which reached to Fort-Augustus,
From thence unto Fort-William again,
Night and day stood armed men.
The word, in a few minutes, did wheel,
From end to end, All is well;
And from Fort-William to Locharkaig-head,
Another line was likewise made.
Thus he did in Glen-Brasdale ly,
Till circled almost every way.
Gen'ral Campbell with four hundred men,
Upon the south-west side did land:
Captain Scot, with five hundred more,
Advancing from the easter shore,
And came within two miles of way,
They knew not what to do or say:
He sent for Cam'ron of Glen-Pan,
Who chus'd to be his guide and van,
To Lovat's country for to go,
The braes of Locharkaig as he did know,
With them went Glenaladale and his brother,
Boradale's two boys, there was no other:
First went the guide on's hands and knees,
After past the Prince and the two boys,
Glenaladale and his brother at last,
Favour'd by the night, they quietly past
So near their tents they heard their speech,
And ere day, got far out of reach,
Right safe into Glen-Morriston,
Left Glenaladale and him alone.
Where he heard tell of brave Lochiel,
Who about Loch-aber was lurking there;
But to get to him great dangers were:
As a line was form'd from Inverness,
Which reached to Fort-Augustus,
From thence unto Fort-William again,
Night and day stood armed men.
The word, in a few minutes, did wheel,
From end to end, All is well;
And from Fort-William to Locharkaig-head,
Another line was likewise made.
Thus he did in Glen-Brasdale ly,
Till circled almost every way.
207
Upon the south-west side did land:
Captain Scot, with five hundred more,
Advancing from the easter shore,
And came within two miles of way,
They knew not what to do or say:
He sent for Cam'ron of Glen-Pan,
Who chus'd to be his guide and van,
To Lovat's country for to go,
The braes of Locharkaig as he did know,
With them went Glenaladale and his brother,
Boradale's two boys, there was no other:
First went the guide on's hands and knees,
After past the Prince and the two boys,
Glenaladale and his brother at last,
Favour'd by the night, they quietly past
So near their tents they heard their speech,
And ere day, got far out of reach,
Right safe into Glen-Morriston,
Left Glenaladale and him alone.
One day, as they a travelling were,
Over a desart mountain there,
Glenaladale chanc'd to lose his purse,
With forty guineas which in it was,
And money behind it they had none,
The Prince's being spent and gone.
While Glen. return'd his purse to seek,
Charlie lay down at a bush cheek,
And there appear'd unto his view,
A band of soldiers not a few,
Just upon that very spot
Where they had met, were't not the lot
Of turning for that very purse
Kept them from what had been much worse.
So, close he lay, slie as a tod,
Being at some distance from the road,
And saw them take another rout,
That they'd met Glen. he had no doubt,
Being gone quite the contrary way
For which he thankfully did pray.
Glen. found his purse and turn'd again,
They chang'd their rout through a wild glen,
Where nothing had they for to eat,
Full forty hours they wanted meat:
Weak and weary were they both,
Water indeed they had enough;
But found no sheep or venison,
The cattle being plund'red and gone.
Over a desart mountain there,
Glenaladale chanc'd to lose his purse,
With forty guineas which in it was,
And money behind it they had none,
The Prince's being spent and gone.
While Glen. return'd his purse to seek,
Charlie lay down at a bush cheek,
And there appear'd unto his view,
A band of soldiers not a few,
Just upon that very spot
Where they had met, were't not the lot
Of turning for that very purse
Kept them from what had been much worse.
So, close he lay, slie as a tod,
Being at some distance from the road,
And saw them take another rout,
208
Being gone quite the contrary way
For which he thankfully did pray.
Glen. found his purse and turn'd again,
They chang'd their rout through a wild glen,
Where nothing had they for to eat,
Full forty hours they wanted meat:
Weak and weary were they both,
Water indeed they had enough;
But found no sheep or venison,
The cattle being plund'red and gone.
At last, they chanced for to spy
A little smoking hut, near by:
Then said the Prince, Thither I'll go,
Whether they should prove friend or foe:
Better for us be kill'd like men,
Than starved like fools: What say'st thou Glen?
Yet Glen refus'd, and said, I fear,
They may be King's-men watching here:
But in the Prince goes to the hut,
Which them in some confusion put;
Six sturdy thieves resided there,
Who at their dinner sitting were,
At a weighty piece of boiled beef,
For hungry men a blest relief.
Peace be here, the Prince did cry,
You're welcome, sir, they did reply;
One star'd at him, then up he flew,
Ah Dougal MacColony, is this you?
I'm glad to see thee, with all my heart,
Sit down with us and take a part.
By winks, he found that he was known,
Return'd him thanks, and then sat down,
Ate hearty, and seem'd very merry,
Talk'd of the times, found by enquiry,
That ev'ry one spake as his frien',
And had all at Culloden been;
But only one of them him knew,
He then bethought him what to do,
And after dinner they took a walk,
With that same man to have some talk,
Who told him all the strengths about,
Where parties lay, and what to doubt.
And as, said he, “The other five,
“Are as faithful fellows as alive,
“You may your safety to them trust,
“Your case by them's lamented most.
“Here do we all in private stay,
“And make incursions for our prey:
“For meat and drink we do not want,
“Of silver and gold we are not scant:
“And since 'tis such a roaring time,
“To steal and rob we think no crime.”
The other five were call'd and told,
Who did rejoice him to behold,
And swore that he should with them stay,
Till he found it safe to get away.
'Tween Strath-Ferrar and Glen-Morr'ston,
They kept up huts, yea more than one,
And kindly there did entertain him;
To the very last they did befrien' him,
And ere that he should taken be,
They every man would for him die.
While here he liv'd on stollen beef,
Right suddenly there came relief:
Rod'rick MacKenzie, a merchant-man,
At Ed'nburgh town had join'd the Clan,
Had in the expedition been,
And at this time durst not be seen,
Being sculking in Glen-Morriston,
Him the soldiers lighted on,
Near about the Prince's age and size,
Genteelly drest, in no disguise.
In every feature, for's very face,
Might well be taken in any case,
And lest he'd like a dog be hang'd,
He chose to die with sword in hand,
And round him like a mad-man struck,
Vowing alive he'd ne'er be took:
Deep wounds he got, and wounds he gave,
At last a shot he did receive,
And as he fell, them to convince,
Cry'd, Ah! Alas! You've kill'd your Prince;
Ye murderers and bloody crew
You had no orders this to do.
This did confirm them in the thought,
He was the very man they sought:
And ere that he was really dead,
They forthwith did cut off his head.
Scarce took they time the corpse to bury,
Being so o'erjoy'd, in such a hurry.
To Fort-Augustus they went with speed,
Triumphing o'er poor Charlie's head.
All who had seen him, came it to view,
And vow'd the face was just and true;
The very barber who us'd to shave him,
The sim'lar treats seem'd to deceive him:
But, said he, wer't on his body set,
And spake, his voice I'll not forget.
Then to the Duke in haste they're bound,
And claim'd the thirty thousand pound.
A little smoking hut, near by:
Then said the Prince, Thither I'll go,
Whether they should prove friend or foe:
Better for us be kill'd like men,
Than starved like fools: What say'st thou Glen?
Yet Glen refus'd, and said, I fear,
They may be King's-men watching here:
But in the Prince goes to the hut,
Which them in some confusion put;
Six sturdy thieves resided there,
Who at their dinner sitting were,
At a weighty piece of boiled beef,
For hungry men a blest relief.
Peace be here, the Prince did cry,
You're welcome, sir, they did reply;
One star'd at him, then up he flew,
Ah Dougal MacColony, is this you?
I'm glad to see thee, with all my heart,
Sit down with us and take a part.
By winks, he found that he was known,
Return'd him thanks, and then sat down,
Ate hearty, and seem'd very merry,
Talk'd of the times, found by enquiry,
That ev'ry one spake as his frien',
And had all at Culloden been;
209
He then bethought him what to do,
And after dinner they took a walk,
With that same man to have some talk,
Who told him all the strengths about,
Where parties lay, and what to doubt.
And as, said he, “The other five,
“Are as faithful fellows as alive,
“You may your safety to them trust,
“Your case by them's lamented most.
“Here do we all in private stay,
“And make incursions for our prey:
“For meat and drink we do not want,
“Of silver and gold we are not scant:
“And since 'tis such a roaring time,
“To steal and rob we think no crime.”
The other five were call'd and told,
Who did rejoice him to behold,
And swore that he should with them stay,
Till he found it safe to get away.
'Tween Strath-Ferrar and Glen-Morr'ston,
They kept up huts, yea more than one,
And kindly there did entertain him;
To the very last they did befrien' him,
And ere that he should taken be,
They every man would for him die.
While here he liv'd on stollen beef,
Right suddenly there came relief:
Rod'rick MacKenzie, a merchant-man,
At Ed'nburgh town had join'd the Clan,
Had in the expedition been,
And at this time durst not be seen,
Being sculking in Glen-Morriston,
Him the soldiers lighted on,
Near about the Prince's age and size,
Genteelly drest, in no disguise.
In every feature, for's very face,
210
And lest he'd like a dog be hang'd,
He chose to die with sword in hand,
And round him like a mad-man struck,
Vowing alive he'd ne'er be took:
Deep wounds he got, and wounds he gave,
At last a shot he did receive,
And as he fell, them to convince,
Cry'd, Ah! Alas! You've kill'd your Prince;
Ye murderers and bloody crew
You had no orders this to do.
This did confirm them in the thought,
He was the very man they sought:
And ere that he was really dead,
They forthwith did cut off his head.
Scarce took they time the corpse to bury,
Being so o'erjoy'd, in such a hurry.
To Fort-Augustus they went with speed,
Triumphing o'er poor Charlie's head.
All who had seen him, came it to view,
And vow'd the face was just and true;
The very barber who us'd to shave him,
The sim'lar treats seem'd to deceive him:
But, said he, wer't on his body set,
And spake, his voice I'll not forget.
Then to the Duke in haste they're bound,
And claim'd the thirty thousand pound.
The Duke thought now the work was done,
When Charlie's head was to him shown;
Call'd in all out upon command,
And caus'd the militia to disband;
The ships of war went to the south
And Charles' death did pass for truth.
He then for London took his rout,
On July eighteenth did set out,
As brave Culcairn had sent him word
Of Lochiel's death, ev'n as absurd—
When plund'ring of Locharkaig isle,
He found the grass cut through the pile,
Thinking it was some hidden store,
He digg'd it up, and found therefore
A man's body, who dy'd of a sore wound,
As appeared when they view'd him round;
A fine Holland shirt he on him had,
Which soon they whirled o'er his head,
Being so much used to plunder,
To rob the dead thought little wonder,
And him they judg'd to be Lochiel,
Yet a near friend of his, they tell,
One Cameron, son of Callavat,
After which Lochiel no hunting gat,
Supposing him and Charlie dead,
Though it was two others in their stead.
So all the parties far and near,
To Fort-Augustus did retire:
Yet some of them were soon sent back
To burn and plunder, and to take
Some great offenders, as Barrisdale,
In which attempts they oft did fail:
For although the Duke's to London gone,
Burning and plunder still went on.
When Charlie's head was to him shown;
Call'd in all out upon command,
And caus'd the militia to disband;
The ships of war went to the south
And Charles' death did pass for truth.
He then for London took his rout,
On July eighteenth did set out,
As brave Culcairn had sent him word
Of Lochiel's death, ev'n as absurd—
211
He found the grass cut through the pile,
Thinking it was some hidden store,
He digg'd it up, and found therefore
A man's body, who dy'd of a sore wound,
As appeared when they view'd him round;
A fine Holland shirt he on him had,
Which soon they whirled o'er his head,
Being so much used to plunder,
To rob the dead thought little wonder,
And him they judg'd to be Lochiel,
Yet a near friend of his, they tell,
One Cameron, son of Callavat,
After which Lochiel no hunting gat,
Supposing him and Charlie dead,
Though it was two others in their stead.
So all the parties far and near,
To Fort-Augustus did retire:
Yet some of them were soon sent back
To burn and plunder, and to take
Some great offenders, as Barrisdale,
In which attempts they oft did fail:
For although the Duke's to London gone,
Burning and plunder still went on.
Now, the Prince into Loch-aber went,
The seat of Lochiel, where he was bent
To know if he in life might be,
As word of's death o'er all did flee,
And the Prince's death so struck Lochiel,
That neither did bemoan himsel;
But each lamented for the other,
And wept as one would for a mother:
But when they heard both were alive,
To meet in haste they did contrive,
Being only twenty miles between,
His brother, the doctor, did them conveen,
With the other brother, John the priest,
Who had sincerely been in quest,
Through many a mountain, wood and glen,
And found him out with eager pain,
Into a hut, built in a wood,
Near Achnasual where it stood.
Charles at a distance did them spy,
Made him and Achnasual fly,
Not knowing what kind of men they were,
Nor what might be their business there;
But being inform'd, soon turn'd again,
Embrac'd with tears in tender strain,
And hearing that Lochiel was well,
His heart-felt joy did not conceal.
The Prince was now in a poor dress,
Poverty's picture in distress,
A black coat with many patches,
Barefooted, and wanting breeches,
No signs of roy'lty or pride,
A durk and pistol by his side,
All weather-beaten, his gun in's hand,
Like a Gibeonite, once in Canaan.
They had kill'd a cow the day before,
Kept a pudding feast, you may be sure,
Part of it roast, part of it sodden:
But here no bread was to be gotten,
No meal nor salt could there be bought;
But what's from Fort-Augustus brought.
One man they had was passing free,
Came home by chance, right cannilie,
With a horse-load of provision,
Meal and salt, bread and snishen,
And with him brought a printed News,
Which did their whole attentions rouze,
How the young Pretender and Lochiel,
O'er Corriarick, had pass'd that fell,
That they were both alive again,
And with them thirty armed men:
This caus'd him longer to abide,
As safely there he could reside,
If a new searching should ensue,
His watchmen here were good and true,
Dismis't Glenaladale for home,
With the men came from Glen-Morriston,
Kept with him only Captain MacRow,
Cameron the priest, and other two,
With Cluny's children, they kept the hut,
And tour about on watch were put.
The seat of Lochiel, where he was bent
To know if he in life might be,
As word of's death o'er all did flee,
And the Prince's death so struck Lochiel,
That neither did bemoan himsel;
But each lamented for the other,
And wept as one would for a mother:
But when they heard both were alive,
To meet in haste they did contrive,
Being only twenty miles between,
His brother, the doctor, did them conveen,
With the other brother, John the priest,
212
Through many a mountain, wood and glen,
And found him out with eager pain,
Into a hut, built in a wood,
Near Achnasual where it stood.
Charles at a distance did them spy,
Made him and Achnasual fly,
Not knowing what kind of men they were,
Nor what might be their business there;
But being inform'd, soon turn'd again,
Embrac'd with tears in tender strain,
And hearing that Lochiel was well,
His heart-felt joy did not conceal.
The Prince was now in a poor dress,
Poverty's picture in distress,
A black coat with many patches,
Barefooted, and wanting breeches,
No signs of roy'lty or pride,
A durk and pistol by his side,
All weather-beaten, his gun in's hand,
Like a Gibeonite, once in Canaan.
They had kill'd a cow the day before,
Kept a pudding feast, you may be sure,
Part of it roast, part of it sodden:
But here no bread was to be gotten,
No meal nor salt could there be bought;
But what's from Fort-Augustus brought.
One man they had was passing free,
Came home by chance, right cannilie,
With a horse-load of provision,
Meal and salt, bread and snishen,
And with him brought a printed News,
Which did their whole attentions rouze,
How the young Pretender and Lochiel,
O'er Corriarick, had pass'd that fell,
That they were both alive again,
And with them thirty armed men:
213
As safely there he could reside,
If a new searching should ensue,
His watchmen here were good and true,
Dismis't Glenaladale for home,
With the men came from Glen-Morriston,
Kept with him only Captain MacRow,
Cameron the priest, and other two,
With Cluny's children, they kept the hut,
And tour about on watch were put.
About this time from Dunkirk came
Sixty gentlemen, who in a band
As volunteers had freely join'd,
To bring him from the British ground.
At Polliver, in Seaforth's country,
Four of them landed privately,
The rest, on sea, kept hov'ring round;
And left a signal, how to be found,
And where they were for to bring to:
These were their orders how to do.
Soon after two of them were ta'en,
One Fitzgerald, called by name,
An officer belong'd to Spain,
Was hanged up at Fort-William,
Proven to be a Flander's spy,
Judg'd for same end, he came that way.
The other was Monsuer de Berards,
An officer of the French guards,
Who from the gallows was befrien'd,
And by cartel again redeem'd.
The other two wandered about,
Till Lochgarie sent, and found them out;
Strangers they seem'd, but who could know
Whether that they were friend or foe?
Captain MacRow did them invite,
At Lochgarie's with him to meet,
To him they plainly did unfold
From whence they came, and that they would
Fain see the Prince, or yet Lochiel,
Having letters to them and words to tell,
Or else to one call'd Captain Drummond,
And more they would reveal to no man.
Sixty gentlemen, who in a band
As volunteers had freely join'd,
To bring him from the British ground.
At Polliver, in Seaforth's country,
Four of them landed privately,
The rest, on sea, kept hov'ring round;
And left a signal, how to be found,
And where they were for to bring to:
These were their orders how to do.
Soon after two of them were ta'en,
One Fitzgerald, called by name,
An officer belong'd to Spain,
Was hanged up at Fort-William,
Proven to be a Flander's spy,
Judg'd for same end, he came that way.
The other was Monsuer de Berards,
An officer of the French guards,
Who from the gallows was befrien'd,
And by cartel again redeem'd.
The other two wandered about,
Till Lochgarie sent, and found them out;
Strangers they seem'd, but who could know
Whether that they were friend or foe?
Captain MacRow did them invite,
At Lochgarie's with him to meet,
To him they plainly did unfold
214
Fain see the Prince, or yet Lochiel,
Having letters to them and words to tell,
Or else to one call'd Captain Drummond,
And more they would reveal to no man.
Lochgarie judg'd they might be spies,
Strove to be cautious and wise,
First he sent them to Lochiel,
With what suspicion he had himsel:
Lochiel order'd the Prince to come in,
Under the name of Captain Drummond,
As they the Prince did never see,
He told them where the two should be,
Bade him a letter bring, as from him come,
To tell their secrets unto him,
And this the Prince actually did,
Met in a hut, built in a wood,
And kept converse with them a day,
Then to meet Lochiel went on his way,
For to consult what might be done,
Out of Scotland once for to win:
For the small ship the Frenchmen left,
Quite off the coast were, all abaft,
And never did at all appear:
But forc'd homeward with dread to steer,
And the officers, as I heard tell,
Were kept, by orders of Lochiel,
Most secretly into a hut,
Until a ship was ready got.
Strove to be cautious and wise,
First he sent them to Lochiel,
With what suspicion he had himsel:
Lochiel order'd the Prince to come in,
Under the name of Captain Drummond,
As they the Prince did never see,
He told them where the two should be,
Bade him a letter bring, as from him come,
To tell their secrets unto him,
And this the Prince actually did,
Met in a hut, built in a wood,
And kept converse with them a day,
Then to meet Lochiel went on his way,
For to consult what might be done,
Out of Scotland once for to win:
For the small ship the Frenchmen left,
Quite off the coast were, all abaft,
And never did at all appear:
But forc'd homeward with dread to steer,
And the officers, as I heard tell,
Were kept, by orders of Lochiel,
Most secretly into a hut,
Until a ship was ready got.
While the Prince yet at Clun's hut lay,
One morning, early of the day,
A child of Clun's came running in,
Crying, “O-hon! the red coats and the gun!”
Which caus'd them hurry out and see
A party coming, and that right nigh:
Cluny, John Cameron and his son
Into the wood did quickly run.
Clun stood their motions to behold,
The others ran to the Prince and told:
He sleeping was in another hut,
Farther in the wood and more remote;
They plainly said, they were surrounded;
Then up he rose, no wise confounded,
Says he, My lads, review your guns,
And let us die like Scotland's sons,
For me, I've been a shooter bred,
To miss a mark I'm not afraid;
Yet we'll escape them if we may,
And live to see a better day.
Captain MacRow and Clun's old son
Were in another hut alone,
He sent for them, they came with speed,
And to the hill did all proceed,
Being eight in number, they were no more,
Soldiers they saw above five score.
But what gave them the most surprise,
Was that the soldiers had past their spies,
Which they had planted round about,
Them to inform of every rout:
This caus'd them be the more afraid,
And think they surely were betray'd.
Then a hill-top they march'd unto,
Where of the party they had a view,
And all around could no more spy,
Than what were of the first party.
Next to Mallantagart's top they flee,
High above the braes of Glenkengie;
Then Cameron, the priest, and Clun's son,
To make discov'ry did backward run.
Two hundred men had gone that way,
Headed by Knockardo of Strathspey,
A going to plunder Barrisdale,
And of Clun's ten cow's left not a tail,
Which he few days before had bought,
When burnt his house and left him nought,
And yet they thought it was no crime,
To plunder him a second time,
The very hut they rummaged,
Out of which they had lately fled.
Clun in the wood all the while lay,
And saw them drive his cows away,
Until perceiving they were gone,
Then he return'd crying, Oh-hon
What, Shall I e'er thus plunder'd be?
For shelter now, where shall I flee?
Went with his son for bread and cheese,
Four bottles of whisk they did not seize:
His stores all under ground were hid,
Cover'd with turff into the wood.
Being midnight ere they reach'd the spot,
Where Charles lay trembling and wet,
They drank the whisk and eat the cheese,
Then of the heather made a bleeze.
When day came in, beek'd by the sun,
They lay and slept till afternoon:
Then took their travels that very night,
To Achnacarie came full right,
Through water to their cleavings high,
Dark was the night, they could not see.
Upon the morrow they kill'd a cow,
Whereof they fill'd their bellies fu',
Without bread, salt or sallad,
Sweet hunger relished their palate;
They told the flesh, bread was before,
And thankful were they had such store,
The country being burnt, and plunder'd,
And here to live no way they had.
On the next day Lochgarie came,
And with him doctor Cameron,
On their return back from Lochiel,
They bade the Prince for safety still,
To cross the hills near Badenoch;
For Athole braes were safe enough,
Among good friends could skulk a while,
Till time was found to leave this isle,
Whereat the Prince was well content,
And to their journey then they went,
Travell'd by night and slept by day,
Through many a glen and awkward way.
Lochiel and he again did meet,
And loud they cry'd like infants sweet,
Contrived now what should be done,
Once more all hazards for to run.
His brother the priest, of modest mouth,
To hire a vessel they sent south,
To take them off from the north shore;
Because that coast was watch'd no more.
But ere that he could get that done,
They found another of safer run,
On north and west they watches set,
Upon the French ships for to wait,
Still thinking that the Dunkirk sloop,
Might yet be hov'ring round about,
From which the Frenchmen did come,
And still attempt, to take them home:
Their signals to many ships they us'd,
But ne'er a one to answer chus'd.
One morning, early of the day,
A child of Clun's came running in,
Crying, “O-hon! the red coats and the gun!”
Which caus'd them hurry out and see
A party coming, and that right nigh:
Cluny, John Cameron and his son
Into the wood did quickly run.
215
The others ran to the Prince and told:
He sleeping was in another hut,
Farther in the wood and more remote;
They plainly said, they were surrounded;
Then up he rose, no wise confounded,
Says he, My lads, review your guns,
And let us die like Scotland's sons,
For me, I've been a shooter bred,
To miss a mark I'm not afraid;
Yet we'll escape them if we may,
And live to see a better day.
Captain MacRow and Clun's old son
Were in another hut alone,
He sent for them, they came with speed,
And to the hill did all proceed,
Being eight in number, they were no more,
Soldiers they saw above five score.
But what gave them the most surprise,
Was that the soldiers had past their spies,
Which they had planted round about,
Them to inform of every rout:
This caus'd them be the more afraid,
And think they surely were betray'd.
Then a hill-top they march'd unto,
Where of the party they had a view,
And all around could no more spy,
Than what were of the first party.
Next to Mallantagart's top they flee,
High above the braes of Glenkengie;
Then Cameron, the priest, and Clun's son,
To make discov'ry did backward run.
Two hundred men had gone that way,
Headed by Knockardo of Strathspey,
A going to plunder Barrisdale,
And of Clun's ten cow's left not a tail,
Which he few days before had bought,
216
And yet they thought it was no crime,
To plunder him a second time,
The very hut they rummaged,
Out of which they had lately fled.
Clun in the wood all the while lay,
And saw them drive his cows away,
Until perceiving they were gone,
Then he return'd crying, Oh-hon
What, Shall I e'er thus plunder'd be?
For shelter now, where shall I flee?
Went with his son for bread and cheese,
Four bottles of whisk they did not seize:
His stores all under ground were hid,
Cover'd with turff into the wood.
Being midnight ere they reach'd the spot,
Where Charles lay trembling and wet,
They drank the whisk and eat the cheese,
Then of the heather made a bleeze.
When day came in, beek'd by the sun,
They lay and slept till afternoon:
Then took their travels that very night,
To Achnacarie came full right,
Through water to their cleavings high,
Dark was the night, they could not see.
Upon the morrow they kill'd a cow,
Whereof they fill'd their bellies fu',
Without bread, salt or sallad,
Sweet hunger relished their palate;
They told the flesh, bread was before,
And thankful were they had such store,
The country being burnt, and plunder'd,
And here to live no way they had.
On the next day Lochgarie came,
And with him doctor Cameron,
On their return back from Lochiel,
They bade the Prince for safety still,
217
For Athole braes were safe enough,
Among good friends could skulk a while,
Till time was found to leave this isle,
Whereat the Prince was well content,
And to their journey then they went,
Travell'd by night and slept by day,
Through many a glen and awkward way.
Lochiel and he again did meet,
And loud they cry'd like infants sweet,
Contrived now what should be done,
Once more all hazards for to run.
His brother the priest, of modest mouth,
To hire a vessel they sent south,
To take them off from the north shore;
Because that coast was watch'd no more.
But ere that he could get that done,
They found another of safer run,
On north and west they watches set,
Upon the French ships for to wait,
Still thinking that the Dunkirk sloop,
Might yet be hov'ring round about,
From which the Frenchmen did come,
And still attempt, to take them home:
Their signals to many ships they us'd,
But ne'er a one to answer chus'd.
Now col'nel Warren had got to France,
And brought a privateer from Nantz,
With three hundred and forty men,
Well arm'd, with thirty guns and ten
Of carr'ge and swivels which she bore,
The best sailer he could procure,
The Bellona, of St. Maloes by name,
To anchor in Loch Moidart came,
And here the col'nel came on shore,
To a house where he had been before,
About the Prince for to enquire,
By chance the watch was waiting there,
Who knew what rout the Prince was gone,
And made it to the col'nel known,
Besides these officers of note,
Who now were lurking in a hut.
Then to the Prince express he sent,
Now was the time for his intent,
Who did set out that very night,
And message sent to all he might,
With speed at Moidart to appear,
With Warren, on board of privateer,
The two officers likewise came,
And met the Prince, who dash'd their frame,
Because with him they'd been so free,
When they took him Drummond to be.
But nevertheless he smil'd it over,
Hoping from suff'rings they'd all recover.
All who came, did haste on board,
Last went himself, then sheath'd his sword,
Regretted sore, he was so kind,
So many suff'rers left behind.
And brought a privateer from Nantz,
With three hundred and forty men,
Well arm'd, with thirty guns and ten
Of carr'ge and swivels which she bore,
The best sailer he could procure,
The Bellona, of St. Maloes by name,
To anchor in Loch Moidart came,
And here the col'nel came on shore,
To a house where he had been before,
About the Prince for to enquire,
218
Who knew what rout the Prince was gone,
And made it to the col'nel known,
Besides these officers of note,
Who now were lurking in a hut.
Then to the Prince express he sent,
Now was the time for his intent,
Who did set out that very night,
And message sent to all he might,
With speed at Moidart to appear,
With Warren, on board of privateer,
The two officers likewise came,
And met the Prince, who dash'd their frame,
Because with him they'd been so free,
When they took him Drummond to be.
But nevertheless he smil'd it over,
Hoping from suff'rings they'd all recover.
All who came, did haste on board,
Last went himself, then sheath'd his sword,
Regretted sore, he was so kind,
So many suff'rers left behind.
| CHAP. XII. The collected writings of Dougal Graham | |