for his sake preyed upon his mind, and in his sleep he was more than once heard to exclaim: "Oh God! Poor Scotland! Poor England!" His only shelter in Rasay was a cow-house, where his guides supplied him with food. There was a stranger on the island who was looked upon by the inhabitants as a spy, for he had come thither under the pretext of selling tobacco; and when he had disposed of his merchandise he did not leave the place, but amused himself by very leisurely exploring the island from one end to the other. While Charles lay concealed in his cow-house, this man came close up to the place; whereupon one of the Prince's companions recommended that the stranger should be immediately shot, and volunteered his own services for the occasion. Charles refused his consent to such an act of violence, and was rewarded for his humanity by seeing the man pass unsuspectingly along, without even looking into the shed. The limits of Rasay were, however so confined, the distress so great, and the necessity of a frequent change of place appeared to Charles so urgent, that he had been there only one day when he resolved on returning to Skye, whither, accordingly, his two former companions conveyed him in their boat on the 13th of July.* The weather was again stormy, and the passage so dangerous, that his two friends at first advised him to postpone his design. Throughout his whole life, indeed, the verses of Claudian (De Cons. Hon. 98) "O nimium dilecte Deo, cui militat aether, could never be addressed to Charles; and on this day, likewise, he was for two hours in momentary danger of being swallowed up by the waves. At nine in the evening, however, he landed in Skye * According to the European Magazine, Charles was induced to leave Rasay by an occurrence which Sevelinges, in the Biographie Universelle, relates in the following words: "Après avoir marché long-temps, épuisé par la faim et la fatigue, il se résout à frapper à la porte d'une maison. Au nom que prononcent les domestiques, il voit qu'il est tombé dans des mains ennemies. Il se présente néanmoins devant le maître de la maison. 'Le fils de votre roi,' lui dit-il, 'vient vous demander du pain et un habit; prenez les misérables vêtements qui me couvrent, vous pourrez me les rapporter un jour dans le palais des rois de la Grande-Bretagne !' Ces nobles et touchantes paroles désarment l'ennemi des Stuarts. Il aide le prince à repasser en Ecosse." The version in the European Magazine varies slightly from the foregoing, but the more authentic Jacobite records make no allusion to any occurrence of the kind, and Malcolm MacLeod's own account is: "The Prince began to be anxious to be out of Rasay, alleging the island to be too narrow and confined in its bounds for the purpose, and proposed setting out for Troternish in Skye."-Jacobite Memoirs, p. 470. in safety, though thoroughly drenched with seawater. He kept MacLeod as a guide, and requested to be conducted to the territory of old MacKinnon, whose people had fought in the Highland army. The old laird's house was from twenty-four to thirty miles distant from the spot where they landed, and the greater part of the way Charles and MacLeod walked during the night, the latter walking on before, the Prince, with a bundle on his shoulders, following as a servant. At this period of his wanderings, Charles appeared to his guide to have reached the last stage of misery, for, owing to the filthy holes in which, during the last two months, he had often been obliged to take shelter, he was now covered with vermin. His firmness and cheerfulness, however, continued unshaken. MacLeod related a number of the atrocities committed after the battle of Culloden, but Charles refused to believe that the Duke of Cumberland had been a party to such barbarity. MacLeod then turned the conversation to Charles's own sufferings, but the generous young man immediately replied, "that the fatigues and distresses he underwent signified nothing at all, because he was only a single person; but when he reflected upon the many brave fellows who suffered in his cause, that, he behoved to own, did strike him to the heart, and did sink very deep within him." When his fortunes were at the lowest ebb, he still derived consolation from the hope of ultimate success in his great design. This is evident from a number of chance remarks that escaped him; some of which, made during this fatiguing night march, have been carefully recorded by his companion. "Do you not think, MacLeod," he said at one time, "that the Almighty must have preserved me thus far for some especial purpose?" And at another time, when his costume was the subject of discourse, he said, "I hope to God I may one day walk through the streets of London in the philabeg that I am now wearing! As they were then in a part of the country where the Prince's person must necessarily be known to many, he made his appearance as wretched as he could. He tied a dirty white handkerchief round his head, as low over his brow as possible, and over this he drew his Highland bonnet; still, MacLeod assures us, the native dignity of Charles's bearing could not Jacobite Memoirs, p. 476. be wholly disguised. Thus apparelled they arrived at the house of John Mac Kinnon, who had served under the laird of Mac Kinnon, and had married a sister of Mac Leod's, who happened to be alone in the house when her brother arrived. Without at once letting her into his secret, Mac Leod only expressed a wish to repose himself with his servant for a short while; and, till the return of Mac Kinnon, Charles continued to support the humble character assigned to him, though tempted more than once to throw off his incognito. His appearance at this time must certainly have been calculated to disguise him even from the most curious glance, for during the night he had sunk into a bog, from which he had been extricated with some difficulty by his guide, but not without bringing away with him abundant marks of the accident. To remove the traces of the night's disaster from his person, Mac Leod applied to the servant girl to wash his feet for him, and then requested her to perform the same kind office to his poor sick follower, Lewis Caw. This the indignant damsel at first refused to do; and when, at last, she was prevailed on to comply, she set about her task in so rough a fashion, that |
