Remarks, etc., and PARTICULAR SAYINGS of some who were concerned in the Prince's preservation. Leith, Citadel, July 20, 1747
1747 20 July
Tis pity that Captain O'Neil has not been more particular in his journal, for he has not so much as mentioned the necessity the Prince was in to disguise himself in a female dress, which serves to explain his distress and danger as much as any thing can do. Besides by studying too much brevity he has altogether omitted several remarkable particulars which he minutely described to those he conversed familiarly with both in the Castle of Edinburgh,85 and after he was set at liberty. He used to tell that when he was along with the Prince they happen'd to be twice within a gun-shot of parties of the enemy, [fol. 190.] that he quite despair'd of being any longer kept out of their clutches, and that he failed not to represent to the Prince the impossibility of not falling into the enemy's hands. 'The Prince,' said he, 'always reproved me for my desponding thoughts, and endeavoured to encourage me in times of the greatest danger by saying, "O'Neil, is this all the faith and trust you have in God? Let us only take care to have enough of faith and trust in his providence and there is no fear of us at all. Pull up your spirits, man. Never despair."' O'Neil frankly own'd that in place of his being useful to the Prince by endeavouring to comfort and support him when dangers thicken'd upon them, the Prince had the like good offices to perform to him, and that he frequently exerted himself in different shapes to raise his spirits. One time having nothing to eat for about two days but some mouldy dirty crumbs in O'Neil's pocket, they luckily happened at last to come to a very mean cottage where they found only an old poor woman who received them kindly, and gave each of them two eggs and a piece of bear-bannocks, but having not so much in her hut as a cup of cold water to give them to put down their morsel, she told them that some lasses had lately gone up the hill to milk the goats, etc., and that if they would follow them, probably they might have a drink of milk from them. The advice was very seasonable, and away they went, the honest old woman directing them the way they should go. [fol. 191.] The Prince skipped so speedily up the hill that O'Neil could not keep up with him. The lasses gave them plenty of milk, and poor O'Neil lay along among the grass, being quite undone with fatigue and fear. The Prince did all he could to rouse him up both by arguing and joking with him; but all to no purpose. At last the Prince turning from him, said, 'Come, my lasses, what would you think to dance a Highland reel with me? We cannot have a bag-pipe just now, but I shall sing you a Strathspey reel.' The dance went merrily on, and the Prince skipped so nimbly, knocking his thumbs and clapping his hands that O'Neil was soon surprized out of his thoughtful mood, being ashamed to remain any longer in the dumps when his Prince had been at so much pains to divert his melancholy. He was sure he said that the Prince entred into this frolick merely upon his account, for that there could be no dancing at his heart, seeing at that time they knew not where to move one foot. The Captain used to say he believed there was not such another man in all the world as the Prince.
It is worth noticing too that O'Neil has not mentioned his going on board with O'Sullivan after parting with the Prince, and how he was taken prisoner upon his coming ashore again about something they wanted to have, how he was very [fol. 192.] roughly used, particularly by some of the Campbells, who took from him his gold and watch, and every valuable thing about him, and how he was stript naked and threatened (if he would not tell where the Prince was to be found) with being put into that racking machine which Barisdale invented and made use of to extort confession from thieves, and in which one could not live above one hour.86 But perhaps the Captain reserves these and some other points to be the subject-matter of another Journal when he comes to a country where he can make a plain declaration of all that he knows with freedom and safety.
Captain O'Neil had very great difficulty to prevail upon Miss MacDonald to undertake being guardian to the Prince. She was not only frighten'd at the hazards and dangers attending such a bold enterprize, but likewise insisted upon the risque she would run of losing her character in a malicious and ill-natured world. The Captain was at some pains to represent to her the glory and honour she would acquire by such a worthy and heroic action, and he hoped God would make her successful in it. 'You need not fear your character,' said he, 'for by [fol. 193.] this you will gain yourself an immortal character. But if you will still entertain fears about your character, I shall (by an oath) marry you directly, if you please.' After she had consented O'Neil then thought it a proper time to say something for himself, and earnestly begged that he himself might have the happiness of being taken under her tuition. But she positively refused to grant his request. At last he became so pressing in his suit that he fell down upon his knees and prayed her to consider his case and the desire he had to share in the Prince's fate whatever it should be. She steadily resisted all his importunities and judiciously remarked to him that the safety of the Prince depended much upon few being in company, that she could more easily undertake the preservation of one than of two or more; and therefore she desired that he might not insist upon that point, for if he should she resolv'd not to embark in the affair at all. He found himself obliged to desist, and owned afterwards upon reflection the wisdom of her resolution.
Her step-father (Hugh MacDonald of Armadale in Sky) did really serve her with a passport, although at that time he was captain of militia, and had a command of Sir Alexander's men in South Uist in order to prevent the Prince's escape. He [fol. 194.] is reckoned the strongest man of all the name of MacDonald, as I have more than once heard Kingsburgh declare, and his strength of mind seems to bear proportion to the strength of his body. He was obliged for some time to keep out of the way till the suspicion of the passport began to be forgot. But every one would not have been desirous of the task to lay hands on him; for he never quit with his arms when he was skulking, and the people in Sky stood in awe of him. Before they went to the boat the Prince renewed the request about O'Neil's going along; but Miss wisely persisted in her former resolution and would not hear of the proposal, though the Prince pressed the matter with great earnestness.
In the Journal taken from the mouths of the Laird of MacKinnon, Malcolm MacLeod, etc., Miss MacDonald has omitted several things which she particularly mentioned to those who conversed with her when she was lying in the Road of Leith on board the Eltham and the Bridgewater ships of war. She told that when the Prince put on women's cloaths he proposed carrying a pistol under one of his petticoats for making some small defence in case of an attack. But Miss declared against it, alleging that if any person should happen to search them the pistol would only serve to make a discovery. [fol. 195.] To which the Prince replied merrily: 'Indeed, Miss, if we shall happen to meet with any that will go so narrowly to work in searching as what you mean they will certainly discover me at any rate.' But Miss would not hear of any arms at all, and therefore the Prince was obliged to content himself with only a short heavy cudgel, with which he design'd to do his best to knock down any single person that should attack him.
She us'd likewise to tell that in their passage to the Isle of Sky a heavy rain fell upon them, which with former fatigues distressed her much. To divert her the Prince sung several pretty songs. She fell asleep, and to keep her so, the Prince still continued to sing. Happening to awake with some little bustle in the boat she found the Prince leaning over her with his hands spread about her head. She asked what was the matter? The Prince told her that one of the rowers being obliged to do somewhat about the sail behoved to step over her body (the boat was so small), and lest he should have done her hurt either by stumbling or trampling upon her in the dark [fol. 196.] (for it was night) he had been doing his best to preserve his guardian from harm. When Miss MacDonald was telling this particular part of the adventure to some ladies that were paying their respects to her on board the Bridgewater in Leith Road, some of them with raptures cried out: 'O Miss, what a happy creature are you who had that dear Prince to lull you asleep, and to take such care of you with his hands spread about your head, when you was sleeping! You are surely the happiest woman in the world!' 'I could,' says one of them,87 'wipe your shoes with pleasure, and think it my honour so to do, when I reflect that you had the honour to have the Prince for your handmaid. We all envy you greatly.' Much about the same time a lady of rank and dignity,88 being on board with Miss MacDonald in the foresaid ship, a brisk gale began to blow and make the sea rough, and not so easy for a small boat to row to Leith. The lady whispered to Miss MacDonald that she would with pleasure stay on board all night that she might have it to say that she had the honour of lying in the same bed with that person who had been so happy as to be [fol. 197.] guardian to her Prince. Accordingly they did sleep in one bed that night. Several ladies89 made valuable presents to Miss MacDonald, viz., gowns, skirts, headsutes, shoes, stockings, etc., etc. Commodore Smith made her a present when she was in Leith Road of a handsome sute of riding-cloaths, with plain mounting, and some fine linen for riding shirts, as also a gown to her woman (Kate MacDonal) and some linen to be shirts for poor Kate, who could not talk one word of English, being a native of Sky, and who generously offered herself to Miss MacDonald when she could get not one that would venture to go with her.
The Prince gave to Miss MacDonald the garters he wore with the woman's cloaths, which were French, of blue velvet covered upon one side with white silk, and fastened with buckles. Miss MacDonald's brother (son of honest Armadale) coming south to find a passage for Holland, where he was to enter into the Dutch service, brought these garters along with him, and deposited them in the hands of a friend90 in Leith, to be kept for his sister till she should be so happy as to return from London. He said his sister had writ from the Road of Leith to Sky concerning the garters, intreating they might be carefully preserved, for that she put a great value upon them.
When Miss MacDonald was a prisoner she happened in coursing about from place to place to fall in luckily with [fol. 198.] Captain O'Neil, then a prisoner likewise, to whom she made up, and giving him a gentle slap upon the cheek with the loof of her hand, said, 'To that black face do I owe all my misfortune.' The captain with a smile replied, 'Why, Madam, what you call your misfortune is truly your greatest honour. And if you be careful to demean yourself agreeably to the character you have already acquired, you will in the event find it to be your happiness.' She told him she was much afraid they designed to carry her to London, which she could not think of but with the utmost uneasiness, not knowing what might turn out to be the consequence. Upon this O'Neil told her that he would take upon him to commence prophet in the case, and to foretell what would happen to her. 'For,' said he, 'if you are carried to London I can venture to assure you it will be for your interest and happiness; and instead of being afraid of this you ought to wish for it. There you will meet with much respect and very good and great friends for what you have done. Only be careful to make all your conduct of a piece. Be not frighten'd by the thoughts of your present circumstances either to say or do anything that may in the [fol. 199.] least tend to contradict or sully the character you are now91 mistress of, and which you can never be robbed of but by yourself. Never once pretend (through an ill-judg'd excess of caution and prudence) to repent or be ashamed of what you have done, and I dare take upon me to answer for the rest. I do not think (added he) that the Government can be so very barbarous and cruel as to bring you to a trial for your life, and therefore I hope you have nothing to fear, and that things will happen to you as I have said.'
Captain O'Neil was wont to tell those who visited him in the Castle of Edinburgh that he had been at the same pains as a parent would be with a child to lay down rules to Miss MacDonald for her future behaviour under the misfortune of being a prisoner, and that it gave him infinite pleasure to find that things had happened to her hitherto according to his words, and to hear by all the accounts he could learn that she had sacredly observed the advices he had given her. He frequently expressed his heartiest wishes that she might get free of all her troubles, and arrive at that which so justly she deserved.
When Miss MacDonald was on board the Bridgewater in Leith Road, accounts had come that the Prince was taken prisoner, and one of the officers had brought the news of this report on board. She got an opportunity of talking privately to some who were then visiting her, and said with tears in her eyes, 'Alas, I am afraid that now all is in vain that I have [fol. 200.] done. The Prince at last is in the hands of his enemies.' Though at that time great fear was entertained about the truth of this account, yet those that were with Miss MacDonald endeavoured all they could to chear her up, and to dissuade her from believing any such thing. But still fears haunted her mind till the matter was cleared up and the contrary appeared.
Miss MacDonald is Protestant, and is descended of the family of Clanranald by her father, and of an Episcopal clergyman by her mother. She is daughter of the deceast Ranald MacDonald of Milton in South Uist, in which island (when the Prince was skulking thereabouts) she happened to be visiting her brother-german who had a little before taken up house at Milton. She was not many days there till she was engaged in the hazardous enterprize; and when she returned to her mother in Sky, the honest old woman was surprized to see her, and asked the reason why she had made such a short stay with her brother. Miss replied that things being in a hurry and confusion in South Uist, with such a number of military folks, she was uneasy till she got out of it; but she never once hinted at the adventure she had so successfully managed, of which the mother knew nothing at all till a party came to take the daughter prisoner, although Miss had been with her [fol. 201.] mother eight or ten days before she was seized. Immediately Miss Flora was hurried on board of a sloop of war without being allowed the priviledge of taking leave of her mother, or telling her anything of the matter, or taking along with herself one stitch to change another. The sloop called the Greyhound, or rather the Furnace, was commanded by John Ferguson of Aberdeenshire,92 a man remarkably rigid and severe in his way, but one of too much greedy sense to have butchered the Prince if he had fallen into his hands. For when he was asked by a friend of his own93 in Edinburgh what he would have done with the Prince had he got him into his clutches, whether or not he would have dispatched him, he answered, 'No (by G – ), I would have been so far from doing any such thing that I would have preserved him as the apple of mine eye, for I would not take any man's word, no, not the Duke of Cumberland's for £30,000 Sterling, though I knew many to be such fools as to do it.' Ferguson was more [fol. 202.] than once (as he thought) within an hour of catching the Prince, so closely he pursued the royal wanderer, and such an anxiety he had to touch the price of blood.
It was Miss MacDonald's good fortune to be soon removed out of the hands of Ferguson into those of the polite and generous Commodore Smith, who, in the coursing about, obtained leave of General Campbell to allow Miss to go ashore to visit her mother and to seek a servant to attend her in the state of confinement. Then it was that poor Kate MacDonal generously made an offer to run all risques with the captive lady, who gladly accepted.
One day in the Road of Leith a lady94 asking Miss if she had any books on board, she said she had only a prayer book, but regreted much the want of a bible, which that lady soon furnished her with in a present in two pretty pocket volumes, handsomely bound. That she might have some innocent and useful employment for her time, care was taken by a lady95 to send her a thimble, needles, white thread of different sorts, etc., with some linen and cambrick cut and shaped according [fol. 203.] to the newest fashions. This piece of friendship Miss Flora admired as much as any instance of kindness and regard that had been shown her, because all the time she had been in custody she was quite idle, having no work to do, and thereby time pass'd very dully on.
While she was in the Road of Leith, from the beginning of September to the 7th of November, she never was allowed to set her foot once on shore, though in other respects the officers were extremely civil and complaisant to her, and took it exceedingly well when any persons came to visit her. Sometimes they were so obliging as to come ashore for good company to attend her, and frequently declared that if they knew any person to come on board out of curiosity and not out of respect for Miss MacDonald, that person should not have access to her. This genteel behaviour makes it to be presumed that their orders were so exceedingly strict that they could not dare to bring her ashore. Commodore Smith (Commander of the Eltham) behaved like a father to her, and tendered her many good advices as to her behaviour in her ticklish situation; and Captain Knowler of the Bridgewater used her with the utmost decency and politeness. When company came to visit her she was indulged the privilege by both these humane and well-bred gentlemen to call for anything on board as if [fol. 204.] she had been at her own fireside, and the servants of the cabin were obliged to give her all manner of attendance; and she had the liberty to invite any of her friends to dine with her when she pleased. Her behaviour in company was so easy, modest, and well-adjusted that every visitant was much surprized; for she had never been out of the islands of South Uist and Sky till about a year before the Prince's arrival that she had been in the family of MacDonald of Largie in Argyllshire for the space of ten or eleven months; and during her confinement she had been all along on board a ship of war till she went to London.
Some that went on board to pay their respects to her, used to take a dance in the cabin, and to press her much to share with them in the diversion. But with all their importunity they could not prevail with her to take a trip. She told them that at present her dancing days were done, and she would not readily entertain a thought of that diversion till she should be assured of her Prince's safety, and perhaps not till she should be bless'd with the happiness of seeing him again. Although she was easy and chearful, yet she had a certain mixture of gravity in all her behaviour which became her situation exceedingly well, and set her of to great advantage. She is [fol. 205.] of a low stature, of a fair complexion and well enough shap'd. One could not discern by her conversation that she had spent all her former days in the Highlands; for she talks English (or rather Scots) easily, and not at all through the Earse tone. She has a sweet voice and sings well; and no lady, Edinburgh bred, can acquit herself better at the tea-table than what she did when in Leith Road. Her wise conduct in one of the most perplexing scenes that can happen in life, her fortitude and good sense, are memorable instances of the strength of a female mind, even in those years that are tender and unexperienced. She is the delight of her friends and the envy of her enemies.
1746 29 June
When the Prince came to Kingsburgh's house (Sunday, June 29th) it was between ten and eleven at night; and Mrs. MacDonald, not expecting to see her husband that night was making ready to go to bed. One of her servant maids came and told her that Kingsburgh was come home and had brought some company with him. 'What company?' says Mrs. MacDonald. 'Milton's daughter, I believe,' says the maid, 'and some company with her.' 'Milton's daughter,' replies Mrs. MacDonald, 'is very welcome to come here with any company [fol. 206] she pleases to bring. But you'll give my service to her, and tell her to make free with anything in the house; for I am very sleepy and cannot see her this night.' In a little her own daughter came and told her in a surprize, 'O mother, my father has brought in a very odd, muckle, ill-shaken-up wife as ever I saw! I never saw the like of her, and he has gone into the hall with her.' She had scarce done with telling her tale when Kingsburgh came and desired his lady to fasten on her bucklings again, and to get some supper for him and the company he had brought with him. 'Pray, goodman,' says she, 'what company is this you have brought with you?' 'Why, goodwife,' said he, 'you shall know that in due time; only make haste and get some supper in the meantime.' Mrs. MacDonald desired her daughter to go and fetch her the keys she had left in the hall. When the daughter came to the door of the hall, she started back, ran to her mother and told her she could not go in for the keys, for the muckle woman was walking up and down in the hall, and she was so frighted at seeing her that she could not have the courage to enter. Mrs. MacDonald went herself to get the keys, and I heard her more than once declare that upon looking in at the door she had [fol. 207.] not the courage to go forward. 'For,' said she, 'I saw such an odd muckle trallup of a carlin, making lang wide steps through the hall that I could not like her appearance at all.' Mrs. MacDonald called Kingsburgh, and very seriously begged to know what a lang, odd hussie was this he had brought to the house; for that she was so frighted at the sight of her that she could not go into the hall for her keys. 'Did you never see a woman before,' said he, 'goodwife? What frights you at seeing a woman? Pray, make haste, and get us some supper.' Kingsburgh would not go for the keys, and therefore his lady behov'd to go for them. When she entered the hall, the Prince happen'd to be sitting; but immediately he arose, went forward and saluted Mrs. MacDonald, who, feeling a long stiff beard, trembled to think that this behoved to be some distressed nobleman or gentleman in disguise, for she never dream'd it to be the Prince, though all along she had been seized with a dread she could not account for from the moment she had heard that Kingsburgh had brought company with him. She very soon made out of the hall with her keys, never saying one word. Immediately she importun'd Kingsburgh to tell her who the person was, for that she was sure by the salute that it was some distressed gentleman. Kingsburgh smiled at [fol. 208.] the mention of the bearded kiss, and said: 'Why, my dear, it is the Prince. You have the honour to have him in your house.' 'The Prince,' cried she. 'O Lord, we are a' ruin'd and undone for ever! We will a' be hang'd now!' 'Hout, goodwife,' says the honest stout soul, 'we will die but ance; and if we are hanged for this, I am sure we die in a good cause. Pray, make no delay; go, get some supper. Fetch what is readiest. You have eggs and butter and cheese in the house, get them as quickly as possible.' 'Eggs and butter and cheese!' says Mrs. MacDonald, 'what a supper is that for a Prince?' 'O goodwife,' said he, 'little do you know how this good Prince has been living for some time past. These, I can assure you, will be a feast to him. Besides, it would be unwise to be dressing a formal supper, because this would serve to raise the curiosity of the servants, and they would be making their observations. The less ceremony and work the better. Make haste and see that you come to supper.' 'I come to supper!' says Mrs. MacDonald; 'how can I come to supper? I know not how to behave before Majesty.' 'You must come,' says Kingsburgh, 'for he will not eat a bit [fol. 209.] till he see you at the table; and you will find it no difficult matter to behave before him, so obliging and easy is he is in his conversation.'
The Prince ate of our roasted eggs, some collops, plenty of bread and butter, etc., and (to use the words of Mrs. MacDonald) 'the deel a drap did he want in's weam of twa bottles of sma beer. God do him good o't; for, well I wat, he had my blessing to gae down wi't.' After he had made a plentiful supper, he called for a dram; and when the bottle of brandy was brought, he said he would fill the glass for himself; 'for,' said he, 'I have learn'd in my skulking to take a hearty dram.' He filled up a bumper and drank it off to the happiness and prosperity of his landlord and landlady. Then taking a crack'd and broken pipe out of his poutch, wrapt about with thread, he asked Kingsburgh if he could furnish him with some tobacco; for that he had learn'd likewise to smoke in his wanderings. Kingsburgh took from him the broken pipe and laid it carefully up with the brogs, and gave him a new clean pipe and plenty of tobacco.
The Prince and Kingsburgh turn'd very familiar and merry together, and when the Prince spoke to Kingsburgh, he for the [fol. 210.] most part laid his hand upon Kingsburgh's knee and used several kind and obliging expressions in his conversation with the happy landlord. Kingsburgh remarked what a lucky thing it was that he happened to be at Mougstot (Sir Alexander MacDonald's house), and that it was all a matter of chance that he was there, for he had no design of being there that day. And then he asked the Prince what he would have done if he had not been at Mougstot. The Prince replied, 'Why, sir, you could not avoid being at Mougstot this day; for Providence ordered you to be there upon my account.' Kingsburgh became so merry and jocose that putting up his hand to the Prince's face, he turned off his head-dress which was a very odd clout of a mutch or toy; upon which Mrs. MacDonald hasted out of the room and brought a clean nightcap for him.
Both Kingsburgh and his lady said that the Prince's face and hands were very much sun-burnt. But they declared he had not a spot of the itch upon him, though a silly report had been raised by his malicious enemies that he was scabbed to the eye-holes. His legs, they said, were hacked in some parts, which was occasioned by his walking and sleeping so often in [fol. 211.] wet hose. Mrs. MacDonald used the freedom to put up the sleeve of his gown and of his shirt (a very coarse dud), 'and there,' said she, 'I saw a bonny, clean, white skin indeed. The deel a lady in a' the land has a whiter and purer skin than he has.'
30 June
Next morning Mrs. MacDonald went to Miss Flora's bedside before she got up and asked of her an account of the adventure. Miss (among other things) told her that there was not any other probable way of saving the Prince but that single one which had been used, and that it had the appearance of a desperate attempt at best: that Lady Clanronald provided them with women's cloathes for the disguise, and that she had contributed all in her power for preserving the Prince out of the hands of his enemies. Mrs. MacDonald desired to know what was become of the boat and the rowers. 'They returned directly,' said Miss Flora, 'to South Uist.' Mrs. MacDonald declared great concern to hear that, because upon their return they would immediately be seized by the military and harshly used to tell what they knew. 'I wish,' said Mrs. MacDonald, 'you had sunk the boat and kept the boatmen in Sky where they could have been concealed, and then we would have known [fol. 212.] the better what to have done with the Prince, because his enemies by this means would have lost scent of him. But all will be wrong by their returning to South Uist.' 'I hope not,' said Miss, 'for we took care to depone them before they parted from us.' 'Alas!' replied Mrs. MacDonald, 'your deponing of them will not signifie a farthing. For if once the military get hold of them they will terrifie them out of their senses and make them forget their oath.'
As Mrs. MacDonald said, so it happened. The boatmen were made prisoners instantly upon their landing in South Uist and threatened with tortures if they did not declare everything they knew, which (to avoid pain, and perhaps death itself) they complied with. From their declaration no doubt it happen'd that his enemies could specifie the particular parts of the dress the Prince was disguised in, even to the nicety of telling the colour of the gown.
After Miss Flora had got up, Mrs. MacDonald told her that she wanted much to have a lock of the Prince's hair, and that she behoved to go into his room and get it for her. Miss Flora refused to do as she desired, because the Prince was not yet out of bed. 'What then,' said Mrs. MacDonald, 'no harm will happen to you. He is too good to harm you or any [fol. 213.] person. You must instantly go in and get me the lock.' Mrs. MacDonald, taking hold of Miss with one hand, knocked at the door of the room with the other. The Prince called, 'Who is there?' Mrs. MacDonald, opening the door, said, 'Sir, it is I, and I am importuneing Miss Flora to come in and get a lock of your hair to me, and she refuses to do it.' 'Pray,' said the Prince, 'desire Miss MacDonald to come in. What should make her afraid to come where I am?' When Miss came in he begged her to sit down on a chair at the bedside, then laying his arms about her waist, and his head upon her lap, he desired her to cut out the lock with her own hands in token of future and more substantial favours. The one half of the lock Miss gave to Mrs. MacDonald and the other she kept to herself. I heard Mrs. MacDonald say that when Miss Flora at any time happened to come into the room where the Prince was, he always rose from his seat, paid her the same respects as if she had been a queen, and made her sit on his right hand.