Chapter XXXI: A.d. 1745 (1)

BRITISH SOVEREIGN:--George II., 1727-1760.

Charles leaves Perth and proceeds southwards--Crosses the
Forth--Proceeds towards Edinburgh--Great confusion in
Edinburgh--The Edinburgh volunteers--Gardiner’s and Hamilton’s
dragoons--Meeting of inhabitants--Message from Prince Charles
at Corstorphine--Deputations to the Prince--Cope arrives off
Dunbar--Capture of Edinburgh by the Highlanders--Arrival of
Charles at Holyrood--The Chevalier de St. George proclaimed--Cope
marches from Dunbar towards Haddington and Preston--The Prince
leaves Edinburgh and marches towards Preston--Battle of Preston.

As early as the 7th of September, Charles had received notice of Cope’s intention to embark at Aberdeen; and, that he might not be anticipated by Cope in his design of seizing the capital, he began to make arrangements for leaving Perth for the south. Before the 11th his force was considerably augmented by tributary accessions from the uplands of Perthshire, and, as his coffers had been pretty well replenished, he resolved to take his departure that day. With this view, Lord George Murray sent an express to his brother, the Marquis of Tullibardine, on the 7th, requesting him to march with such forces as he had collected, on the morning of Tuesday the 10th, so as to reach Crieff next day, that he might be able to form a junction with the main army at Dunblane or Doune the following day.[879]

Charles, accordingly, left Perth on Wednesday the 11th of September on his route to the south. The van of the army, or rather a few of each of the clans, reached Dunblane that night, in the neighbourhood of which they encamped. The greater part of the men lagged behind, and did not get up till next day, when they appeared to be greatly fatigued. As this result was imputed to the good quarters they had enjoyed for the last eight days at Perth, and the want of exercise, it was resolved that henceforth the army should encamp in the open air, and be kept constantly in motion. On his march to Dunblane, the prince was joined by Macdonald of Glencoe,[880] with 60 of his men, and by James Drummond or Macgregor of Glengyle at the head of 255 Macgregors, the retainers of Macgregor of Glencairnaig.[881]

Having been obliged to halt a whole day for the remainder of his army, Charles remained in his camp till the 13th, on which day he crossed the Forth at the fords of Frew, almost in the face of Gardiner’s dragoons, who retired towards Stirling on the approach of the Highland army, without attempting to dispute its passage. While passing by Doune, Charles received particular marks of attention from some of the ladies of Menteith, who had assembled in the house of Mr. Edmondstone of Cambuswallace, in the neighbourhood of Doune to see him as he passed. A collation had been provided for him, in the expectation that he would have entered the house; but he courteously excused himself, and stopping before the house, without alighting from his horse, drank a glass of wine to the healths of his fair observers. The daughters of Mr. Edmondstone, who served the prince on this occasion, respectfully solicited the honour of kissing his hand--a favour which he readily granted; but he was asked to grant a higher favour by Miss Robina Edmondstone, cousin to the daughters of the host. The favour sought was the liberty “to pree his royal highness’s mou.” Charles not being sufficiently acquainted with broad Scotch, was at a loss to comprehend the nature of the request; but on its being explained to him, he instantly caught her in his arms, and instead of allowing her to perform the operation, he himself kissed her from ear to ear, to the great amusement of the spectators, and the envy of the bold recipient’s cousins.[882]

The passage of the Forth had always been considered one of the most daring and decisive steps which a Highland army could take. In their own country the Highlanders possessed many natural advantages over an invading foe, which gave them almost an absolute assurance of success in any contest even with forces greatly superior in numbers; and, in the adjoining Lowlands, they could, if worsted, easily retreat to their fastnesses; but their situation was very different on the south of the Forth, where they were more particularly exposed to be attacked by cavalry,--a species of force which they greatly dreaded, and from which they could, if routed, scarcely expect to escape. It is said, but not upon sufficient authority, that some of Charles’s officers at first demurred to the propriety of exposing the army to the dangers of a Lowland campaign in the south, but that he would listen to no arguments against the grand design he had formed of seizing the capital. To cheer his men in the hazardous enterprise, the dangers of which now, for the first time, began to develop themselves, the prince is reported, on arriving on the bank of the river, to have brandished his sword in the air, and pointing to the other side, to have rushed into the water, and darting across, to have taken his station on the opposite bank, on which he stood till all the detachments had crossed, and congratulated each successive detachment as it arrived.[883] In crossing the Forth, the prince may be said to have passed the Rubicon: he had not only committed himself in a struggle with a powerful government, but he had, with intrepid daring, and with a handful of men, entered a country whence retreat was almost impossible.

After passing the Forth, Charles, accompanied by a party of his officers, proceeded to Leckie House, the seat of Mr. Moir, a Jacobite gentleman, where he dined; but the proprietor was absent, having been seized by a party of dragoons, and carried off to Stirling castle the preceding night, in consequence of information having been received at the castle that he was preparing to receive and entertain the prince at his house. The army passed the night on the moor of Sauchie, a few miles south from the ford.[884] The prince himself slept in Bannockburn House, belonging to Sir Hugh Paterson, a zealous Jacobite. During this day’s march great abuses were committed by the men in taking and shooting sheep, which the Duke of Perth and others did every thing in their power to prevent. Lochiel was so enraged at the conduct of his men, that he is said to have shot one of them himself, as an example to deter the rest.[885]

Next day Charles put his army in motion towards Falkirk. In passing by Stirling, a few shots were fired at them from the castle, but without damage. Lord George Murray sent a message to the magistrates of the town, requiring a supply of provisions; on receiving which they immediately opened the gates, and having given notice of the demand to the inhabitants, the dealers in provisions went out and met the Highland army near Bannockburn, and sold a considerable quantity of commodities to the men. The army, after receiving this supply, resumed its march, and finally halted on a field a little to the eastward of Falkirk. Charles took up his abode in Callender House, where he was entertained with the greatest hospitality by the Earl of Kilmarnock, who gave him assurances of devoted attachment to his cause. By the earl, Charles was informed that Gardiner’s dragoons, who, on his approach to Falkirk, had retired in the direction of Linlithgow, were resolved to dispute the passage of Linlithgow bridge with him, and that they had encamped that night in its neighbourhood.[887]

On receiving this intelligence, Charles immediately held a council of war, at which it was resolved to attack the dragoons during the night. For this purpose a detachment of 1,000 well-armed men was despatched at one o’clock in the morning under the command of Lord George Murray. They marched with the utmost order, regularity, and quietness; but they were disappointed in their object, as the dragoons had retired during the night to Kirkliston, eight miles west from Edinburgh. The detachment entered Linlithgow before break of day, where they were joined by the prince and the rest of the army about ten o’clock that morning.[888] The day was Sunday; but the prince does not appear to have gratified the burghers by going to church as he had done the citizens of Perth the preceding Sunday. He, however, partook of a repast which some of the Jacobite inhabitants had prepared for him. The provost preserved a neutrality by absenting himself from town; but his wife and daughters are said to have paid their respects to the prince by waiting upon him at the cross, attired in tartan gowns, and wearing white cockades, and doing themselves the honour of kissing his hand.

Advancing from Linlithgow about four o’clock in the afternoon, the Highland army encamped on a rising ground, nearly four miles east from Linlithgow, near the twelfth milestone from Edinburgh, where they passed the night. The prince slept in a house in the neighbourhood. Next morning, Monday the 16th, Charles renewed his march eastwards, and reached Corstorphine, the dragoons all the while retiring before him as he approached.

Charles was now within three miles of Edinburgh, and could not proceed farther in a direct line, without exposing his army to the fire of the castle guns. To avoid them, he led it off in a southerly direction, towards Slateford,--a small village about the distance of a mile from Corstorphine. The prince fixed his head quarters at Gray’s mills, between two and three miles from the city, and his troops bivouacked during the night of the 16th, in an adjoining field called Gray’s Park.

When intelligence of the prince’s departure from Perth reached Edinburgh, the anxiety for the arrival of Cope increased every hour. The Jacobites, of whom there was a respectable party in the city, on the other hand, longed for the arrival of Charles. No certain information of the movements of the Highland army reached Edinburgh till the morning of Sunday the 15th, when a messenger brought intelligence that the insurgents were in full march upon the capital, and that their van had already reached Kirkliston. The last part of this information was, however, incorrect.

At the time the messenger arrived, all the armed volunteers, in terms of an order given the preceding evening, were assembled in the college yards. About ten o’clock, Drummond, the ex-provost, who was captain of a company, which, from its being partly composed of students belonging to the university, was called the college company, made his appearance. After consultation with his brother-officers, he informed the company of the advance of the Highland army,--that it had been proposed to General Guest to make a stand with the two dragoon regiments, and fight the insurgents on their way to the city; but that the general did not think the measure advisable, as there was not a body of foot to act with the dragoons to draw off the fire of the enemy,--that he (Drummond), knowing that he could answer for 250 volunteers, if Provost Stewart would allow 50 of the town-guard to go along with them, had asked the general if that number would be sufficient; and that Guest had given him an answer in the affirmative. “Now, gentlemen,” said the ex-provost, “you have heard the general’s opinion, judge for yourselves. If you are willing to risk your lives for the defence of the capital of Scotland and the honour of your country, I am ready to lead you to the field.” The volunteers to whom Drummond seemed particularly to address himself, threw up their hats in the air, at the conclusion of this address, and began a huzza, in which the rest of the company joined.[889]

Having obtained the consent of his own company to march, he went to the other companies in succession; but instead of advising them to follow the example which his own men had set, he told them that though his men were, all of them, going out to conquer or die with him, yet that such a resolution was only proper for young unmarried men, who were at liberty to dispose of their own lives. Accordingly very few of the volunteers in the other companies would give their consent; but Drummond’s company becoming clamorous, the others seemed to yield, and Drummond despatched a messenger to the castle to inform General Guest that the volunteers were ready to march out with the dragoons and engage the rebels. At the request of the general, Provost Stewart ordered a detachment of the town guard and the Edinburgh regiment to accompany the volunteers. General Guest, on being informed of this, directed Hamilton’s dragoons, who were encamped on Leith links, to march through the city, and join Gardiner’s regiment at Corstorphine.[890]

For the first time since they had been embodied, the volunteers now loaded their pieces. In terms of an order which had been issued the preceding day, the fire-bell was rung as a signal of approaching danger, and the volunteers, who had assembled in the college-yards, instantly repaired in a body to the Lawnmarket, the appointed place of rendezvous. Most of the city ministers had enrolled themselves as volunteers, but they were absent on the present occasion, being engaged celebrating divine service in their respective churches. _Semper parati_ being the motto they had adopted in their new vocation, they had gone to church equipped _à la militaire_, and when the alarm-bell sounded, were preaching with their swords by their sides. In an instant the churches were deserted by the worshippers, and a universal panic seized all classes on learning the intelligence. The Lawnmarket, where the volunteers had drawn up waiting for the arrival of Hamilton’s dragoons, was soon crowded with inhabitants: many of them, the wives, sisters, mothers, fathers, and friends of the devoted volunteers who clustered around them, and implored them, by ties the most sacred, to desist from the dangerous enterprise they were about to engage in. The attention of the people was diverted for a time by the appearance of Hamilton’s dragoons who rode up the street. They were received with huzzas by the volunteers, and the dragoons in passing huzzaed in return, and with a gasconading air clashed their swords against each other as they went along. The alarm among the relatives and friends of the volunteers was increased, and nothing was to be heard but the cries and lamentations of unhappy females. These doughty champions, who never had any serious intention of exposing their persons to the blows of the Highland broad-sword, moved in appearance by the tears, the entreaties, and embraces of their female friends, seemed rather inclined to allow the dragoons to shift for themselves; but neither the expostulations of the men, (for the male relations of the volunteers were equally solicitous with the females in dissuading the volunteers from marching,) nor the tears of the women, had any effect upon the volunteers of Drummond’s company, who had agreed to march.

An order being given to march, Drummond placed himself at the head of the volunteers of his company, and marched them up the Lawnmarket and down the West Bow to the Grassmarket: they were followed by an immense crowd of people lamenting their unhappy fate. Only 42 privates of Drummond’s company followed him, but he certainly expected some accessions from the other companies. Not a single individual, however, belonging to them, accompanied him. Finding himself and his little party alone, Drummond halted his men near the West Port, and sent a lieutenant, named Lindsay, back to the Lawnmarket to ascertain the reason why the volunteers, who were expected to follow, had not joined their associates. Lindsay, on his return to the Lawnmarket, found the volunteers, who still remained in the street, in great confusion. Several of the officers told Lindsay that they themselves were willing to follow Drummond and his party, but that very few of their men would consent to march out. On the other hand, many of the privates complained that they could not get one officer to lead them. After some altercation, Lindsay, with the assistance of Captain Sir George Preston, and some other officers, succeeded in collecting 141, who professed a willingness to march with the dragoons, out of about 350 volunteers who had remained behind; Lindsay led off these to the Grassmarket, where they joined Drummond’s party; but if we are to believe a pamphleteer of the day, even this small force was diminished by the way. The descent of _The Bow_ presenting localities and facilities equally convenient for desertion, the volunteers are said to have availed themselves of these on their march. The author alluded to facetiously compared this falling off “to the course of the Rhine, which rolling pompously its waves through fertile fields, instead of augmenting in its course, is continually drawn off by a thousand canals, and at last becomes a small rivulet, which loses itself in the sands before it reaches the ocean.”[891] The foot now assembled, comprehending the town guard and the Edinburgh regiment, which numbered only 189, amounted, exclusive of officers, to 363 men.[892]

Alarmed at the departure of the volunteers, Dr. Wishart, principal of the university of Edinburgh, with others of the city clergy, proceeded to the Grassmarket, and with great earnestness addressed the volunteers, and conjured them by every thing they held most sacred and dear, to reserve themselves for the defence of the city by remaining within the walls. Principal Wishart addressed himself particularly to the young men of Drummond’s company, some few of whom affected to contemn his advice; but it was perfectly evident that there was scarcely an individual present, who did not in his heart desire to follow the advice of the ministers. The volunteers, however, had offered to serve without the walls, and they could not withdraw with honour. Drummond, on the departure of the clergy, and after a short consultation with his officers, sent a lieutenant with a message to the provost, to the effect, that the volunteers had resolved not to march out of town without his express permission, and that they would wait for his answer. In all this we have no reason to doubt the sincerity and courage of Drummond, but to the great satisfaction of his men, who were at first ignorant of the nature of the message, an answer was returned by Provost Stewart, stating that he was much opposed to the proposal of marching out of town, and was glad to find that the volunteers had resolved to remain within the walls. No sooner was this answer received, than Drummond returned with his men to the college-yards, where they were dismissed for a time. The town guard, and the men of the Edinburgh regiment, however, although shamefully deserted by their companions in arms, marched out of the city on receiving an order to that effect from the provost, and joined the dragoons at Corstorphine, about four miles west from Edinburgh, where the regiments of Hamilton and Gardiner formed a junction.[893]

Seeing no appearance of the enemy, Colonel Gardiner retired at sunset with the two regiments of dragoons, to a field between Edinburgh and Leith, to pass the night, leaving a party of his men behind him to watch the motions of the Highlanders; and the foot returned at the same time to the city. To guard the city during the night, 600 or 700 men, consisting of the trained bands, the volunteers, and some auxiliaries from the towns of Musselburgh and Dalkeith, were stationed along the walls and at the different gates; but the night passed off quietly. The same night, Brigadier General Fowkes arrived from London. Early next morning, he received an order from General Guest, to take the command of the dragoons, and to march to a field a little to the east of Coltbridge, about two miles west from the city, where he was joined in the course of the forenoon by the town guard, and the Edinburgh regiment.

For the first time during their march, the Highlanders descried some dragoons as they approached Corstorphine, on the morning of the 16th of September. This was the party which Colonel Gardiner had left at Corstorphine the preceding evening. To reconnoitre the dragoons, a few young well-armed Highlanders were sent forward on horseback, and ordered to go as near as possible to ascertain their number. These young men rode close up to the dragoons, and by way of frolic or defiance, for they could have no intention of attacking the dragoons, fired their pistols at them. To the utter astonishment of the Highlanders, the dragoons, instead of returning the fire, became panic-struck, and instantly wheeling about, galloped off towards the main body. Participating in the fears of his advanced guard, General Fowkes immediately ordered a retreat, and between three and four o’clock in the afternoon, the inhabitants of Edinburgh beheld the singular spectacle of two regiments of dragoons flying along the “Long Dykes,” now the site of Princes Street, when no one pursued. The faint-hearted dragoons stopped a short time at Leith, and afterwards proceeded to Musselburgh. The foot returned to the city.

Several hours before the retreat of the dragoons, a gentleman of the city had brought in a message from the prince, requiring a surrender, and threatening, in case of resistance, to subject the city to all the rigours of military usage; but no regard was paid to the message, and although the messenger had the imprudence (for which he was sent to prison by the provost,) to communicate the message to the inhabitants, they manifested no great symptoms of alarm, relying, probably, on the resistance of the dragoons. After these had fled, however, the people became exceedingly clamorous, and crowds of the inhabitants ran about the streets crying, that since the dragoons had fled, it was madness to think of resistance. The provost, on returning from the West Port, where he had been giving orders after the retreat of the dragoons, was met by some of the inhabitants, who implored him not to persist in defending the town, for if he did, they would all be murdered. He reproved them for their impatience, and proceeded to the Goldsmiths’ Hall, where he met the magistrates and town council and a considerable number of the inhabitants, who had there assembled. After some consultation, a deputation was sent to the law-officers of the crown, requiring their attendance and advice; but it was ascertained that these functionaries had left the town. The captains of the trained bands and volunteers were next sent for, and called upon for their opinion as to defending the city, but they were at a loss how to advise. The meeting was divided upon the question whether the town should be defended or not, and in the course of the debate much acrimony was displayed by the speakers on both sides. The hall being too small to contain the crowd which collected, the meeting adjourned to the New church aisle, which was immediately filled with people, the great majority of whom called out for a surrender, as they considered it impossible to defend the town. Some persons attempted to support the contrary view, but they were forced to desist by the noise and clamour of the majority.

While matters were in this train, a letter was handed in from the door addressed to the lord provost, magistrates, and town council of Edinburgh. The letter was put into the hands of Orrock, the deacon of the shoemakers, who, on opening it, informed the meeting that it was subscribed “Charles, P. R.” On hearing this announcement, the provost stopped Deacon Orrock, who was about to read the letter, said he would not be a witness to the reading of such a communication, and rising from his seat, left the place, accompanied by the greater part of the council and a considerable number of the inhabitants. The provost, however, returned to the council-chamber with his friends, and sent for the city assessors to give their opinion as to whether the letter should be read or not. One of these lawyers appeared, but afraid to commit himself, stated that the matter was too grave for him to give an opinion upon. The provost still demurred, but the assembly getting impatient to know the contents of the letter, his lordship tacitly consented to its being read. It was as follows:

“_From our Camp, 16th September, 1745._

“Being now in a condition to make our way into the capital of
his majesty’s ancient kingdom of Scotland, we hereby summon you
to receive us, as you are in duty bound to do; and in order to
it, we hereby require you, upon receipt of this, to summon the
town-council and take proper measures for securing the peace and
quiet of the city, which we are very desirous to protect. But
if you suffer any of the usurper’s troops to enter the town, or
any of the cannon, arms, or ammunition in it, (whether belonging
to the public or private persons,) to be carried off, we shall
take it as a breach of your duty, and a heinous offence against
the king and us, and shall resent it accordingly. We promise
to preserve all the rights and liberties of the city, and the
particular property of every one of his majesty’s subjects.
But if any opposition be made to us, we cannot answer for the
consequences, being firmly resolved at any rate to enter the
city; and in that case, if any of the inhabitants are found in
arms against us, they must not expect to be treated as prisoners
of war.”

After this letter was read, the clamour for surrender became more loud and general than ever, and, agreeably to the wish of the meeting, a deputation, consisting of four members of the council, was appointed to wait upon the prince immediately, and to request that he would grant the citizens time to deliberate on the contents of his letter.

While the meeting was debating the question as to the reading of Charles’s letter, an incident occurred, which, it is believed, gave the finishing stroke to the mock heroism of the volunteers. After the retreat of the dragoons, the volunteers had assembled, on the ringing of the fire-bell, at their respective posts, to be in readiness to obey any instructions which might be sent to them. Four companies, out of the six, were drawn up in the Lawnmarket between four and five o’clock in the afternoon, but before they had sufficient time to recover from the agitation into which they had been thrown by the call to arms, a well-dressed person, unknown to those assembled, entered the Lawnmarket from the West-Bow, in great haste, mounted upon a grey horse, and galloping along the lines of the volunteers, intimated, in a voice sufficiently high to be heard by the astonished volunteers, that he had seen the Highland army, and that it amounted to 16,000 men! This “lying messenger did not stop to be questioned, and disappeared in a moment.”[894] Captain Drummond, soon after this occurrence, arrived upon the spot, and, after consulting with his brother officers, marched up the four companies to the castle, where they delivered up their arms. In a short time the other companies also went up and surrendered their arms, and were followed by the other bodies of militia that had received arms from the castle magazine.

About eight o’clock at night, the four deputies left the city to wait upon the prince at Gray’s Mill; but they had scarcely cleared the walls, when intelligence was received by the lord provost and magistrates, (who still remained assembled in the council-chamber,) that the transports with General Cope’s army on board had arrived off Dunbar, about 27 miles east from Edinburgh, and that as the wind was unfavourable for bringing them up the Frith, Cope intended to land his troops at Dunbar and march to the relief of the city. As this intelligence altered the aspect of affairs, messengers were immediately despatched to bring back the deputies before they should reach their destination, but they did not overtake them. The deputies returned to the city about ten o’clock, and brought along with them a letter of the following tenor, signed by Secretary Murray:--

“His royal highness the prince regent thinks his manifesto, and the king his father’s declaration, already published, a sufficient capitulation for all his majesty’s subjects to accept with joy. His present demands are, to be received into the city as the son and representative of the king his father, and obeyed as such when there. His royal highness supposes, that since the receipt of his letter to the provost no arms or ammunition have been suffered to be carried off or concealed, and will expect a particular account of all things of that nature. Lastly, he expects a positive answer before two o’clock in the morning, otherwise he will think himself obliged to take measures conform.”

This letter gave rise to a lengthened discussion in the town-council, which ended in a resolution to send out a second deputation to the prince, and, under the pretence of consulting the citizens, to solicit a few hours’ delay. The deputies accordingly set out in a coach to the prince’s head-quarters at two o’clock in the morning, and had an interview with Lord George Murray, whom they prevailed upon to second their application for delay. His lordship went into the prince’s apartment, and one of the deputies overheard him endeavouring to persuade Charles to agree to the request made by them, but the prince refused. Lord George having reported the failure of his attempt to the deputies, was induced by them to return and make another trial, but he was again unsuccessful. Charles then requested that the deputies should be ordered away, and being offended at Lord George Murray’s entreaties, desired Lord Elcho, the son of the Earl of Wemyss, who had just joined him, to intimate the order to them, which he accordingly did.[895]

Apprehensive of the speedy arrival of Cope, Charles resolved not to lose a moment in obtaining possession of the capital. He saw that no effectual resistance could be made by the inhabitants in case of an assault; but as opposition might exasperate the Highlanders, and make them regardless of the lives of the citizens, he proposed to his officers that an attempt should be made to carry the city by surprise, which, if successful, would save it from the horrors which usually befall a city taken by storm. The plan of a surprise having been resolved upon, a select detachment of about 900 men, under Lochiel, Keppoch, Ardshiel, and O’Sullivan, was sent under cloud of night towards the city. They marched with great secrecy across the Borough moor, and reached the south-eastern extremity of the city, where they halted. A party of 24 men was thereupon despatched with directions to post themselves on each side of the Netherbow Port, the eastern or lower gate of the city, and another party of 60 men was directed to follow them half-way up St. Mary’s Wynd, to be ready to support them, while a third body, still farther removed, and finally the remainder of the detachment, were to come up in succession to the support of the rest. In the event of these dispositions succeeding without observation from the sentinels on the walls, it had been arranged that a Highlander in a lowland garb should knock at the wicket and demand entrance as a servant of an officer of dragoons, who had been sent by his master to bring him something he had forgot in the city; and that if the wicket was opened, the party stationed on each side of the gate should immediately rush in, seize the guard, and make themselves masters of the gate. The different parties having taken the stations assigned them without being perceived by the guards, the disguised Highlander knocked at the gate and stated his pretended errand; but the guard refused to open the gate, and the sentinels on the walls threatened to fire upon the applicant if he did not instantly retire. The commanders were puzzled by this unexpected refusal, and were at a loss how to act. It was now near five o’clock, and the morning was about to dawn. The alternative of an assault seemed inevitable, but fortunately for the city, the Highlanders were destined to obtain by accident what they could not effect by stratagem.[896]

While the party at the gate was about to retire to the main body in consequence of the disappointment they had met with, their attention was attracted by the rattling of a carriage, which, from the increasing sound, appeared to be coming down the High-street towards the Netherbow Port. It was, in fact, the hackney coach which had been hired by the deputies, which was now on its way back to the Canongate, where most of the proprietors of hackney coaches at that time lived. The Highlanders stationed at the gate stood prepared to enter, and as soon as it was opened to let out the coach, the whole party, headed by Captain Evan Macgregor, a younger son of Macgregor of Glencairnaig, rushed in, made themselves masters of the gate, and disarmed the guard in an instant. In a short time the whole of the Highlanders followed, with drawn swords and targets, and setting up one of those hideous and terrific yells with which they salute an enemy they are about to encounter, marched quickly up the street in perfect order, in expectation of meeting the foe;[897] but to the surprise, no less than the pleasure, of the Highlanders, not a single armed man was to be seen in the street. With the exception of a few half-awakened spectators, who, roused from their slumbers by the shouts of the Highlanders, had jumped out of bed, and were to be seen peeping out at the windows in their sleeping habiliments, all the rest of the inhabitants were sunk in profound repose.

Having secured the guard-house and disarmed the guards who were within, the Highlanders took possession of the different gates of the city and of the stations upon the walls. They made the guards prisoners, and replaced them with some of their own men, with as much quietness as if they had been merely changing their own guard.[898] The Highlanders conducted themselves on this occasion with the greatest order and regularity, no violence being offered to any of the inhabitants, and the utmost respect being paid to private property.

Anxious about the result, Charles had slept only two hours, and that without taking off his clothes. At an early hour he received intelligence of the capture of the city, and immediately prepared to march towards it with the rest of the army. To avoid the castle guns, the prince took a circuitous direction to the south of the city, till he reached the Braid burn, when, turning towards the city, he marched as far as the Buck Stone,[899] a mass of granite on the side of the turnpike road, near Morningside. On reaching this stone, he drew off his army by a solitary cross road, leading to the ground now occupied by Causewayside and Newington. Arrived near Priestfield, he entered the king’s park by a breach, which had been made in the wall, and proceeded to the Hunter’s bog, a deep valley between Arthur’s Seat and Salisbury Crags, where his army was completely sheltered from the guns of the castle.[900]

Charles was now within the royal domains, and little more than a quarter of a mile from the royal palace of Holyrood, where his grandfather, James II., when Duke of York, had, about 60 years before, exercised the functions of royalty, as the representative of his brother Charles II. Sanguine as he was, he could scarcely have imagined that within the space of one short month, from the time he had raised his standard in the distant vale of the Finnan, he was to obtain possession of the capital of Scotland, and take up his residence in the ancient abode of his royal ancestors. Exulting as he must have done, at the near prospect which such fortuitous events seemed to afford him of realizing his most ardent expectations, his feelings received a new impulse, when, on coming within sight of the palace, he beheld the park crowded with people, who had assembled to welcome his arrival. Attended by the Duke of Perth and Lord Elcho, and followed by a train of gentlemen, Charles rode down the Hunter’s bog, on his way to the palace. On reaching the eminence below St. Anthony’s well, he alighted from his horse for the purpose of descending on foot into the park below. On dismounting he was surrounded by many persons who knelt down and kissed his hand. He made suitable acknowledgments for these marks of attachment, and after surveying for a short time the palace and the assembled multitude which covered the intervening grounds, he descended into the park below amid the shouts of the spectators, whose congratulations he received with the greatest affability. On reaching the foot-path in the park, which, from its having been much frequented by the Duke of York, afterwards James II., when he resided at Holyrood, obtained the name of the Duke’s walk, Charles stopped for a few minutes to exhibit himself to the people.[901]

In person Charles appeared to great advantage. His figure and presence are described by Mr. Home, an eye-witness, as not ill-suited to his lofty pretensions. He was in the bloom of youth, tall[902] and handsome, and of a fair and ruddy complexion. His face, which in its contour exhibited a perfect oval, was remarkable for the regularity of its features. His forehead was full and high, and characteristic of his family. His eyes, which were large, and of a light blue colour, were shaded by beautifully arched eye-brows, and his nose, which was finely formed, approached nearer to the Roman than the Grecian model. A pointed chin, and a mouth rather small, gave him, however, rather an effeminate appearance; but on the whole, his exterior was extremely prepossessing, and his deportment was so graceful and winning, that few persons could resist his attractions. The dress which he wore on the present occasion was also calculated to set off the graces of his person to the greatest advantage in the eyes of the vulgar. He wore a light-coloured peruke, with his hair combed over the front. This was surmounted by a blue velvet bonnet, encircled with a band of gold lace, and ornamented at top with a Jacobite badge, a white satin cockade. He wore a tartan short coat, and on his breast the star of the order of St. Andrew. Instead of a plaid, which would have covered the star, he wore a blue sash wrought with gold. His small clothes were of red velvet. To complete his costume, he wore a pair of military boots, and a silver-hilted broadsword.[903]

Charles remained some time in the park among the people, but as he could not be sufficiently seen by all, he mounted his horse, a fine bay gelding which the Duke of Perth had presented to him, and rode off slowly towards the palace. Every person was in admiration at the splendid appearance he made on horseback, and a simultaneous huzza arose from the vast crowd which followed the prince in triumph to Holyrood House. Overjoyed at the noble appearance of the prince, the Jacobites set no bounds to their praises of the royal youth. They compared him to King Robert Bruce, whom, they said, he resembled in his figure as they hoped he would in his fortune.[904] The Whigs, on the other hand, regarded him differently; and though they durst not avow their opinions to the full extent, and were forced to admit that Charles was a goodly person, yet they observed that even in that triumphant hour when about to enter the palace of his fathers, the air of his countenance was languid and melancholy,--that he looked like a gentleman and a man of fashion, but not like a hero or a conqueror. Their conclusion was, that the enterprise he had undertaken was above the pitch of his mind, and that his heart was not great enough for the sphere in which he moved.[905]

On arriving in front of the palace Charles alighted from his horse, and entering the gate proceeded along the piazza within the quadrangle, towards the Duke of Hamilton’s apartments.[906] When the prince was about to enter the porch, the door of which stood open to receive him, a gentleman stepped out of the crowd, drew his sword, and raising it aloft, walked up stairs before Charles. The person who took this singular mode of joining the prince, was James Hepburn of Keith, a gentleman of East Lothian. When a very young man he had been engaged in the rebellion of 1715, not from any devoted attachment to the house of Stuart, (for he disclaimed the hereditary indefeasible right of kings, and condemned the government of James II.,) but because he considered the union, which he regarded as the result of the revolution, as injurious and humiliating to Scotland, and believed that the only way to obtain a repeal of that measure, was to restore the Stuarts. In speaking of the union, he said that it had made a Scottish gentleman of small fortune nobody, and that rather than submit to it, he would die a thousand deaths. For thirty years he had kept himself in readiness to take up arms to assert, as he thought, the independence of his country, when an opportunity should occur. Honoured and beloved by both Jacobites and Whigs, the accession to the Jacobite cause of this accomplished gentleman, whom Mr. Home describes as a model of ancient simplicity, manliness, and honour, was hailed by the former with delight, and deeply regretted by the latter, who lamented that a man whom they so highly revered, should sacrifice himself to the visionary idea of a repeal of the union between England and Scotland.[907]

On his way to the palace Charles had been cheered by the acclamations of the people; and on his entering that memorable seat of his ancestors, these acclamations were redoubled by the crowd which filled the area in front. On reaching the suite of apartments destined for his reception, he exhibited himself again to the people from one of the windows with his bonnet in his hand, and was greeted with loud huzzas by the multitude assembled in the courtyard below. He replied to these congratulations by repeated bows and smiles.

To complete the business of this eventful day, the proclamation at the cross of the Chevalier de St. George as James III., alone remained. The Highlanders who entered the city in the morning, desirous of obtaining the services of the heralds and the pursuivants, to perform what appeared to them an indispensable ceremony, had secured the persons of these functionaries. Surrounded by a body of armed men, the heralds and pursuivants, several of whom had probably been similarly employed on the accession of “the Elector of Hanover,” proceeded to the cross, a little before one o’clock afternoon, clothed in their robes of office, and proclaimed King James, amid the general acclamations of the people. The windows of the adjoining houses were filled with ladies, who testified the intensity of their feelings by straining their voices to the utmost pitch, and with outstretched arms waving white handkerchiefs in honour of the handsome young adventurer. Few gentlemen were, however, to be seen in the streets or at the windows, and even among the common people, there were not a few who preserved a stubborn silence.[908] The effect of the ceremony was greatly heightened by the appearance of Mrs. Murray of Broughton, a lady of great beauty, who, to show her devoted attachment to the cause of the Stuarts, decorated with a profusion of white ribbons, sat on horseback near the cross with a drawn sword in her hand, during all the time the ceremony lasted.[909]

While the heralds were proclaiming King James at the market-cross of Edinburgh, Sir John Cope, who, as has been stated, arrived in the mouth of the Frith of Forth on the 16th, was landing his troops at Dunbar. The two regiments of dragoons had continued their inglorious flight during the night, and had reached that town, on the morning of the 17th, “in a condition,” to use the soft expression of Mr. Home, “not very respectable.” On arriving at Musselburgh, they had halted for a short time, and afterwards went to a field between Preston Grange and Dolphinston, where they dismounted for the purpose of passing the night; but between ten and eleven o’clock they were aroused by the cries of a dragoon who had fallen into an old coal-pit full of water. Conceiving that the Highlanders were at hand, they instantly mounted their horses and fled towards Dunbar with such precipitation and alarm, that they dropped their arms by the way. Next morning the road to Dunbar was found strewed with the swords, pistols, and firelocks, which had fallen from the nervous hands of these cowards. Colonel Gardiner, who had slept during the night in his own house at Preston, near the field where the dragoons were to bivouack, was surprised, when he rose in the morning, to find that his men were all gone. All that he could learn was that they had taken the road to Dunbar. He followed them with a heavy heart, which certainly did not lighten when he saw the proofs they had left behind them of their pusillanimity. These arms were collected and conveyed in covered carts to Dunbar, where they were again put into the hands of the craven dragoons.[910]

The landing of Cope’s troops was finished on Wednesday, the 17th of September; but the disembarkation of the artillery and stores was not completed till the 18th. On the last-mentioned day, Mr. Home, the author of the history of this Rebellion, arrived at Dunbar, and was introduced to Sir John, as a “volunteer from Edinburgh,” desirous of communicating to him such information as he had personally collected respecting the Highland army. He told the general, that being curious to see the Highland army and its leader, and to ascertain the number of the Highlanders, he had remained in Edinburgh after they had taken possession thereof,--that for the last-mentioned purpose, he had visited the different parts they occupied in the city, and had succeeded in making a pretty exact enumeration,--that with the same view he had perambulated the Hunter’s bog, where the main body was encamped,--and as he found the Highlanders sitting in ranks upon the ground taking a meal, that he was enabled to calculate their numbers with great certainty. He stated, from the observations he had been thus enabled to make, that the whole Highlanders within and without the city did not amount to 2,000 men; but that he had been told that several bodies of men from the north were on their march, and were expected very soon to join the main body at Edinburgh. In answer to a question put by Cope, as to the appearance and equipment of the Highlanders, Home stated that most of them seemed to be strong, active, and hardy men, though many of them were of a very ordinary size: and if clothed like Lowlanders, would, in his opinion, appear inferior to the king’s troops; but the Highland garb favoured them much, as it showed their naked limbs, which were strong and muscular; and their stern countenances and bushy uncombed hair gave them a fierce, barbarous, and imposing aspect. With regard to their arms, Mr. Home said that they had no artillery of any sort but one small unmounted iron cannon, lying upon a cart, drawn by a little Highland pony,--that about 1,400 or 1,500 of them were armed with firelocks and broadswords,--that their firelocks were of all sorts and sizes, consisting of muskets, fusees, and fowling pieces,--that some of the rest had firelocks without swords, while others had swords without firelocks,--that many of their swords were not Highland broadswords but French,--that one or two companies, amounting to about 100 men, were armed, each of them with the shaft of a pitch-fork, with the blade of a scythe fastened to it, resembling in some degree the Lochaber axe. Mr. Home, however, added, that all the Highlanders would soon be provided with firelocks, as the arms belonging to the train bands of the city had fallen into their hands.[911]

At Dunbar, General Cope was joined by some judges and lawyers, who had fled from Edinburgh on the approach of the Highlanders. They did not, however, enter the camp as fighting men, but with the intention of continuing with the king’s army, as anxious and interested spectators of the approaching conflict. Cope found a more efficient supporter in the person of the Earl of Home, then an officer in the guards, who considered it his duty to offer his services on the present occasion. Unlike his ancestors, who could have raised in their own territories a force almost equal to that now opposed to Sir John Cope, this peer was attended by one or two servants only, a circumstance which gave occasion to many persons to mark the great change in the feudal system which had taken place in Scotland, in little more than a century.

Desirous of engaging the Highland army before the arrival of its expected reinforcements, General Cope left Dunbar on the 19th of September, in the direction of Edinburgh. The cavalry, infantry, cannon, and baggage-carts, which extended several miles along the road, gave a formidable appearance to this little army, and attracted the notice of the country people, who, having been long unaccustomed to war and arms, flocked from all quarters to see an army on the eve of battle; and with infinite concern and anxiety for the result beheld the uncommon spectacle. The army halted on a field to the west of the town of Haddington, sixteen miles east from Edinburgh. As it was supposed that the Highlanders might march in the night time, and by their rapid movements surprise the army, a proposal was made in the evening, to the general, to employ some of the young men who followed the camp, to ride betwixt Haddington and Duddingston, during the night, so as to prevent surprise. This proposal was approved of by Cope, and sixteen young men, most of whom had been volunteers at Edinburgh, offered their services. These were divided into two parties of eight men each; one of which, subdivided into four parties of two men each, set out at nine o’clock at night, by four different roads that led to Duddingston. These parties returned to the camp at midnight, and made a report to the officer commanding the piquet, that they had not met with any appearance of the enemy. The other party then went off, subdivided as before, by the different routes, and rode about till day-break, when six of them returned and made a similar report, but the remaining two who had taken the coast road to Musselburgh, did not make their appearance at the camp, having been made prisoners by an attorney’s apprentice, who conducted them to the rebel camp at Duddingston! The extraordinary capture of these doughty patroles, one of whom was Francis Garden, afterwards better known as a lord of session, by the title of Lord Gardenstone, and the other Mr. Robert Cunningham, known afterwards as General Cunningham, is thus humorously detailed by a writer in the _Quarterly Review_:--

“The general sent two of the volunteers who chanced to be mounted, and knew the country, to observe the coast road, especially towards Musselburgh. They rode on their exploratory expedition, and coming to that village, which is about six miles from Edinburgh, avoided the bridge to escape detection, and crossed the Esk, it being then low water, at a place nigh its junction with the sea. Unluckily there was at the opposite side a snug thatched tavern, kept by a cleanly old woman called Luckie F----, who was eminent for the excellence of her oysters and sherry. The patroles were both _bon-vivants_; one of them whom we remember in the situation of a senator, as it is called, of the college of justice, was unusually so, and a gay witty agreeable companion besides. Luckie’s sign and the heap of shells deposited near her door, proved as great a temptation to this vigilant forlorn-hope, as the wine-house to the abbess of Andonillet’s muleteer. They had scarcely got settled at some right _Pandores_, with a bottle of sherry as an accompaniment, when, as some Jacobite devil would have it, an unlucky north-country lad, a writer’s (_i.e._ attorney’s) apprentice, who had given his indentures the slip, and taken the white-cockade, chanced to pass by on his errand to join Prince Charlie. He saw the two volunteers through the window, knew them, and guessed their business; he saw the tide would make it impossible for them to return along the sands as they had come. He therefore placed himself in ambush upon the steep, narrow, impracticable bridge, which was then, and for many years afterwards, the only place of crossing the Esk, ‘and how he contrived it,’ our narrator used to proceed, ‘I never could learn, but the courage and assurance of the province from which he came are proverbial. In short, the Norland whipper-snapper surrounded and made prisoners of my two poor friends, before they could draw a trigger.’”[912]