THE '45. I. Landing of the Young Pretender; the Raising of the Standard; Surrender of Edinburgh.
Source.—Robert Forbes: The Lyon in Mourning. Edited by H. Paton for the Scottish History Society 1895. Vol. xx., pp. 201-210.
Journal of the Prince's imbarkation and arrival, etc., the greatest part of which was taken from Duncan Cameron at several different conversations I had with him.
After the battle of Fontenoy and taking of Tournay, among other regiments the one commanded by Lord John Drummond was garrisoned in Tournay, in which corps Duncan Cameron (some time servant to old Lochiel at Boulogne in France) served. When Duncan was in Tournay he received a letter from Mr. Æneas MacDonald, banker in Paris, desiring him forthwith to repair to Amiens, and if possible to post it without sleeping, where he should receive orders about what he was to do. Accordingly Duncan set out, and in a very short time posted to Amiens, from whence Æneas, etc., had set out, but had left a letter for Duncan, ordering him to follow them to Nantes, to which place he set out without taking any rest, where he found the Prince and his small retinue, consisting of seven only, besides servants.
The seven were the Duke of Athol, Sir Thomas Sheridan, Sir John Macdonald, Colonel Strickland, Captain O'Sullivan, Mr. George Kelly (a nonjurant clergyman), and Æneas MacDonald, banker at Paris, brother to Kinlochmoidart.
As Duncan Cameron had been brought up in the island of Barra, and knew the coast of the Long Isle well, in some part of which the Prince intended to land first, so Duncan's business was to descry to them the Long Isle.
At Nantes the Prince and his few attendants waited about fifteen days before the Elizabeth ship of war came, which was to be their convoy in the expedition. To cover the design the better, Sir Thomas Sheridan passed for the father, and the Prince for the son, for none knew the Prince to be in company but the seven, some few others, and Mr. Welch (an Irishman, a very rich merchant in Nantes) who was to command the frigate of sixteen guns, on board of which the Prince and the few faithful friends with the servants were to imbark.
After the Prince was on board he dispatched letters to his father, and the King of France, and the King of Spain, advising them of his design, and no doubt desiring assistance.
The Prince when in Scotland, used to say that the 10th of June was the day on which he stole off, and that he did not mind it to be his father's birth-day till night was far spent. From whence some have affirmed that to have been the day of the embarkation, and others to have been the day when he left Paris and began to be incog.
They had not been above five or six days at sea till one evening the Lyon ship of war appeared, and came pretty near them and then disappeared. Next morning she came again in view and disappeared. She continued to do so three or four times, and the last time of her appearing she came within a mile or so of them: when the captain of the Elizabeth (a Frenchman) came on board the frigate, and told Mr. Welch if he would assist him by keeping one side of the Lyon in play at a distance, he would immediately put all things in order for the attack. Mr. Welch, well knowing the trust he had on board, answered him civilly, and told him it was what he could not think of doing, and withal remarked to him it was his humble opinion that he should not think of fighting unless he should happen to be attacked, because his business was to be convoy to the frigate in the voyage. However, he said, as he pretended not to any command over him, he might do as he thought proper.
The French captain to all this replied, that from the Lion's appearing and disappearing so often, it seemed as if she were looking out for another ship to assist her, and if she should happen to be joined by any other, they no doubt would instantly fall upon the Elizabeth and the frigate, and devour them both: and therefore he behoved to think it the wisest course to fight the Lion when single, because the Elizabeth in that case was fit enough for the engagement, and would bid fair enough to give a good account of the Lion. Upon this the French captain drew his sword, took leave of Mr. Welch and his company, went on board the Elizabeth with his sword still drawn in his hand, and gave the necessary orders for the attack.
Immediately the Elizabeth bore down upon the Lion (each of them consisting of about sixty guns, and therefore equally matched), and begun the attack with great briskness. The fight continued for five or six hours, when the Lion was obliged to sheer off like a tub upon the water.
About the time when the captain came on board the frigate, the Prince was making ready to go on board the Elizabeth for more air and greater conveniency every way, the frigate being crowded with the gentlemen, the servants, and the crew. His friends reckoned it very lucky that he had not gone on board.
The frigate all the time of the engagement lay at such a small distance, that (as the Prince observed to several friends in Scotland) the Lion might have sunk her with the greatest ease. But he said it was their good fortune that the Lion had despised them, and thought not the frigate worth the while. Besides the Lion found enough of employment for all her hands in playing her part against the Elizabeth.
During the time of the fight the Prince several times observed to Mr. Welch what a small assistance would serve to give the Elizabeth the possession of the Lion, and importuned him to engage in the quarrel. But Mr. Welch positively refused, and at last behoved to desire the Prince not to insist any more, otherwise he would order him down to the cabin.
After the fight was all over, Mr. Welch sailed round the Elizabeth, and enquired particularly how matters stood with the captain and the crew. A lieutenant came upon deck from the captain, who was wounded in his cabin, and told Mr. Welch that between thirty and forty officers and gentlemen (besides common men) were killed and wounded, and that if Mr. Welch could supply him with a mainmast and some rigging, he would still make out the voyage with him.
Mr. Welch replied that he could not furnish him with either mainmast or rigging, and that although he should have happened to be capable to serve him in these things, yet he would not have made it his choice to lose so much time as it would require to put the Elizabeth in some better order. He desired to tell the captain it was his opinion he should without loss of time return to France, and that he himself would do his best to make out the intended voyage. The Elizabeth accordingly returned to France, and the frigate continued her course to the coast of Scotland. She had not been long parted from the Elizabeth till the crew descried two ships of war at some distance, which they could not have well got off from, but that a mist luckily intervened, and brought them out of sight.
Two or three hours before landing, an eagle came hovering over the frigate, and continued so to do until they were all safe on shore. Before dinner the Duke of Athol had spied the eagle: but (as he told several friends in Scotland) he did not chuse then to take any notice of it, lest they should have called it a Highland freit[18] in him. When he came upon deck after dinner, he saw the eagle still hovering about in the same manner, and following the frigate in her course, and then he could not help remarking it to the Prince and his small retinue, which they looked upon with pleasure. His grace, turning to the prince, said, "Sir, I hope this is an excellent omen, and promises good things to us. The King of birds is come to welcome your royal highness upon your arrival in Scotland."
When they were near the shore of the Long Isle, Duncan Cameron was sent out in the long boat to fetch them a proper pilot. When he landed he accidentally met with Barra's piper, who was his old acquaintance, and brought him on board. The piper piloted them safely into Eriska (about July 21st), a small island lying between Barra and South Uist. "At this time," said Duncan Cameron, "there was a devil of a minister that happened to be in the island of Barra, who did us a' the mischief that lay in his power. For when he had got any inkling about us, he dispatched away expresses with information against us. But as the good luck was, he was not well believed, or else we would have been a' tane by the neck."
When Duncan spoke these words, "a devil of a minister," he bowed low and said to me, "Sir, I ask you ten thousand pardons for saying so in your presence. But, good faith, I can assure you, sir (asking your pardon), he was nothing else but the devil of a minister."
When they landed in Eriska, they could not find a grain of meal or one inch of bread. But they catched some flounders, which they roasted upon the bare coals in a mean low hut they had gone into near the shore, and Duncan Cameron stood cook. The Prince sat at the cheek of the little ingle, upon a fail[19] sunk, and laughed heartily at Duncan's cookery, for he himself owned he played his part awkwardly enough.
Next day the Prince sent for young Clanranald's uncle (Alexander MacDonald of Boisdale), who lived in South Uist, and discovered himself to him. This gentleman spoke in a very discouraging manner to the Prince, and advised him to return home. To which it is said the Prince replied, "I am come home, sir, and I will entertain no notion at all of returning to that place from whence I came; for that I am persuaded my faithful Highlanders will stand by me." Mr. MacDonald told him he was afraid he would find the contrary. The Prince condescended upon Sir Alexander MacDonald and the Laird of MacLeod as persons he might confide in. Mr. MacDonald begged leave to tell him that he had pitched upon the wrong persons; for from his own certain knowledge he could assure him these gentlemen would not adhere in his interest; on the contrary, they might chance to act an opposite part. And seeing the Prince had been pleased to mention Sir Alexander MacDonald's name, Boisdale desired he might run off an express to him, and let his return be the test of what he had advanced. He added withal, that if Sir Alexander MacDonald and the Laird of MacLeod declared for him, it was his opinion he might then land on the continent, for that he doubted not but he would succeed in the attempt. But if they should happen to refuse their assistance (which he still insisted would be the case) then their example would prove of bad consequence, and would tend only to make others backward and to keep at home. And in that event he still thought it advisable to suggest his returning back to where he came from.
According to this advice the Prince did send a message to Sir Alexander MacDonald, intimating his arrival, and demanding assistance. Before the messenger could return, Æneas MacDonald (anxious to have the honour of seeing the Prince in the house of his brother, the Laird of Kinlochmoidart) prevailed upon the Prince to set out for the continent, and they arrived at Boradale in Moidart, or rather Arisaig, upon July 25th, St. James's day, 1745. When the messenger returned to the Prince he brought no answer with him, for Sir Alexander refused to give any.
It is worth remarking here that though MacDonald of Boisdale had played the game of the government by doing all he could to dissuade the Prince from making the attempt: and after the standard was set up, by keeping back all Clanranald's men (to the number of four or five hundred good stout fellows) that lived in South Uist and the other isles, yet his conduct could not screen him from rough and severe treatment. For after the battle of Culloden he suffered in his effects as well as others, and had the misfortune to be made a prisoner and to be carried to London by sea, in which expedition he had the additional affliction of having his brother, the Laird of Clanranald, senior (who had never stirred from his own fireside), and his lady to bear him company, and none of them were released till the 4th July, 1747. However, to do Boisdale justice, he was of very great use to the Prince (as Donald MacLeod and Malcolm have both declared) when wandering up and down through South Uist, Benbicula, and other parts of the Long Isle, and exerted his utmost power to keep him out of the hands of his enemies.
After the Prince's arrival upon the continent [mainland] some friends met to consult what was to be done, and I have heard it affirmed by good authority the Keppoch honestly and bravely gave it as his opinion that since the Prince had risqued his person and generously thrown himself into the hands of his friends, therefore it was their duty to raise their men instantly merely for the protection of his person, let the consequence be what it would. Certain it is that if Keppoch, Lochiel, young Clanranald, etc., had not joined him, he would either have fallen into the hands of his enemies or been forced immediately to cross the seas again.
The royal standard was set up at Glenfinnan (August 19th), the property of Clanranald, at the head of Lochshiel, which marches with Lochiel's ground, and lies about ten miles west from Fort William. The Prince had been a full week before this, viz. from Sunday the 11th at Kinlochmoydart's house, and Lochiel had been raising his men who came up with them just as the standard was setting up.
The Prince stayed where the standard was set up two days, and I have heard Major MacDonell frequently say in the Castle of Edinburgh, that, he had never seen the Prince more cheerful at any time, and in higher spirits than when he had got together four or five hundred men about the standard. Major MacDonell presented the Prince with the first good horse he mounted in Scotland, which the Major had taken from Captain Scott, son of Scotstarvet.
On Friday, August 23d, the Prince lodged in Fassafern, three miles down the Loch Eil, and about five miles from Fort William. On sight of a warship which lay opposite to the garrison, the Prince crossed a hill, and went to Moy or Moidh, a village on the river Lochy belonging to Lochiel. There he stayed till Monday, August 26th, waiting intelligence about General Cope; and that day he crossed the river Lochy, and lodged in a village called Leterfinla, on the side of Loch Lochy. At 12 o'clock at night, being very stormy and boisterous, he learned that General Cope was at Garvaimor, whereupon the men stood to arms all night. But the General had altered his route, and by forced marches was making the best of his way to Inverness, which (as was given out) happened by an express from President Forbes advising the General not to attempt going up the country to attack the Highlanders at the Pass of Corierag (very strong ground) where they had posted themselves, but to make all the haste he could to Inverness, where he might expect the Monroes, etc., to join him, whereby he would be considerably reinforced.
Upon notice that the General was marching towards Inverness, about six hundred of the Highlanders urged the being allowed to follow him under cloud of night and promised to come up with him, and to give a good account of him and his command. But the Prince would not hear of such an attempt, and desired them to wait for a more favourable opportunity. It was with much difficulty that they could be prevailed upon to lay aside the thoughts of any such enterprise. This I had from the brave Major MacDonell.
When the Prince was coming down the Highlands to meet General Cope (as was supposed) he walked sixteen miles in boots, and one of the heels happening to come off, the Highlanders said they were unco glad to hear it, for they hoped the want of the heel would make him march at more leisure. So speedily he marched that he was like to fatigue them all.
August 27th. The Prince slept at Glengary's house, and next night lay at Aberchallader, a village belonging to Glengary.
August 30th. The Prince and his army were at Dalnacardoch, a publick house in Wade's Road, as appears from a letter writ by the Duke of Athol to a lady desiring her to repair to Blair Castle to put it in some order, and to do the honours of that house when the Prince should happen to come there, which he did the day following, August 31st. I saw the letter and took the date of it. When the Prince was at Blair he went into the garden, and taking a walk upon the bowling-green, he said he had never seen a bowling-green before. Upon which the above lady called for some bowls that he might see them; but he told her that he had got a present of some bowls sent him as a curiosity to Rome from England.
September 2d. He left Blair and went to the house of Lude, where he was very cheerful and took his share in several dances, such as minuets, Highland reels (the first reel the Prince called for was, "This is not mine ain house," etc.), and a Strathspey minuet.
September 3d. He was at Dunkeld, and next day he dined at Nairn House where some of the Company happening to observe what a thoughtful state his father would now be in from the consideration of those dangers and difficulties he had to encounter with, and that upon this account he was much to be pitied, because his mind behoved to be much upon the rack—the Prince replied that he did not half so much pity his father as his brother. "For," said he, "the king has been inured to disappointments and distresses and has learnt to bear up easily under the misfortunes of life. But poor Harry! his young and tender years make him much to be pitied, for few brothers love as we do!"
September 4th. In the evening he made his entrance into Perth upon the horse that Major MacDonell had presented him with.
September 11th. Early in the morning he went on foot attended by few and took a view of the house of Scoon; and leaving Perth that day, he took a second breakfast at Gask, dined at Tullibardine, and that night went towards Dumblain and next day to Down.
September 14th. In the morning the Prince after refreshing himself and his army at the Laird of Leckie's house, marched by Stirling Castle and through St. Ninians. From Stirling Castle a six-pounder was discharged four times at him, which determined Lord Nairn, who was bringing up the second division of the army, to go farther up the country in order to be out of the reach of the canon of the Castle. When the Prince was in St. Ninians with the first division, Mr. Christie, provost of Stirling, sent out to them from Stirling a quantity of bread, cheese, and ale in abundance, an order having come before by little Andrew Symmer desiring such a refreshment. Colonel Gardiner and his dragoons had galloped off towards Edinburgh from their camp near Stirling Castle the night before, or rather the same morning, when it was dark, September 14th, without beat of drum.
September 16th. The Prince and his army were at Gray's Mill upon the Water of Leith, when he sent a summons to the Provost and Town Council of Edinburgh to receive him quietly and peacably into the city. Two several deputations were sent from Edinburgh to the Prince begging a delay till they should deliberate upon what was fittest to be done. Meantime eight or nine hundred Highlanders under the command of Keppoch, young Lochiel, and O'Sullivan, marched in between the Long Dykes without a hush of noise, under the favour of a dark night, and lurked at the head of the Canongate about the Nether Bow Port till they should find a favourable opportunity for their design, which soon happened. The hackney coach, which brought back the second deputation, entered at the West Port, and after setting down the deputies at their proper place upon the street, drove down the street towards the Canongate, and when the Nether Bow Port was made open to let out the coach, the lurking Highlanders rushed in (it being then peep of day) and made themselves masters of the city without any opposition, or the smallest noise.
II.
Treatment of the Vanquished.
1. After Preston Pans.
Source.—Lockhart Papers. Quoted in Jesse, Memoirs of the Pretenders, p. 187.
(a) After the battle of Preston Pans,—when one of the Prince's followers congratulated him on the victory which he had obtained, and, pointing to the field of battle, exclaimed, "Sir, there are your enemies at your feet!"—Charles is said not only to have refrained from joining in the exultation of the moment, but to have warmly expressed the sincerest compassion for those whom he termed "his father's deluded subjects." Previous to the battle, he had strongly exhorted his followers to adopt the side of mercy; and when the victory was gained, his first thoughts were for the unhappy sufferers, and his first hours employed in providing for the comfort of his wounded adversaries as well as his friends. His exhortations and example produced the happiest effects. In the words of one of his gallant followers,—"Not only did I often hear our common clansmen ask the soldiers if they wanted quarter, and not only did we, the officers, exert our utmost pains to save those who were stubborn or who could not make themselves understood, but I saw some of our private men, after the battle, run to Port Seton for ale and other liquors to support the wounded. As one proof for all, of my own particular observation, I saw a Highlander, carefully and with patient kindness, carry a poor wounded soldier on his back into a house, where he left him with a sixpence to pay his charges. In all this we followed not only the dictates of humanity, but also the orders of our Prince, who acted in everything as the true father of his country."
Source.—The MS. of Lord George Murray, Commander-in-Chief. Printed by Bishop Forbes in his Jacobite Memoirs, Edinburgh, 1834, p. 29.
(b) His Royal Highness caused take the same care of their wounded as of his own.... In the evening I went with the officer prisoners to a house in Musselburgh, that was allotted for them. Those who were worst wounded, were left at Colonel Gardner's house, where surgeons attended them; the others walked, as I did alongst with them, without a guard, (as they had given me their parole;) and to some, who were not well able to walk, I gave my own horses. It was a new finished house that was got for them, where there was neither table, bed, chair, or chimney grate. I caused buy some new thrashed straw, and had, by good fortune, as much cold provisions and liquor of my own, as made a tolerable meal to them all; and when I was going to retire, they entreated me not to leave them, for, as they had no guard, they were afraid that some of the Highlanders who had got liquor, might come in upon them, and insult or plunder them. I lay on a floor by them all night. Some of them, who were valetudinary, went to the minister's house, and I sent an officer with them, and they got beds: this was the quarter designed for myself. Next morning, after his Royal Highness went for Edinburgh, I carried these gentlemen to the house of Pinkey, where they were tolerably well accommodated. After I had returned to the field of battle, and given directions about the cannon, and seen about the wounded prisoners, to get all the care possible taken of them, and given other necessary orders, I returned to Pinkey, where I stayed all night. I got what provisions could possibly be had to the common men prisoners, who were that night in the gardens of Pinkey; and the night before, I had got some of their own biscuit carried from Cokenny to Colonel Gardner's courts and gardens, for their use.
2. After Culloden.
Source.—Forbes: Jacobite Memoirs. Pp. 232, 233, 251, 252, 296-298.
It is a fact undeniable, and known to almost everybody, that upon Friday the 18th of April, which was the second day after the battle, a party was regularly detached to put to death all the wounded men that were found in and about the field of battle. That such men were accordingly put to death is also undeniable, for it is declared by creditable people, who were eye-witnesses to that most miserable and bloody scene. I myself was told by William Ross, who was then grieve[20] to my Lord President, that twelve wounded men were carried out of his house, and shot in a hollow, which is within very short distance of the place of action.... Orders were given, on the Friday, to an officer, Hobbie, or such a name, that he should go to the field of battle, and cause carry there all the wounded in the neighbouring houses, at a mile's distance, some more, some less, and kill them upon the field, which orders were obeyed accordingly. When these orders were given at the knee, an officer who was well pleased told it to his comrades; one of them replied, "D—n him who had taken that order! He could not do an inhuman thing; though no mercy should be shewn to the rebels."
An officer was heard more than once say, that he saw seventy-two killed, and, as he termed it, knocked on the head. He was a young captain.... A little house into which a good many of the wounded had been carried, was set on fire about their ears, and every soul in it burnt alive, of which number was Colonel Orelli, a brave old gentleman, who was either in the French or Spanish service.... The Presbyterian minister at Petty, Mr. Laughlan Shaw, being a cousin of this Kinrara's,[21] had obtained leave of the Duke of Cumberland to carry off his friend, in return for the good services the said Mr. Laughlan had done the government; for he had been very active in dissuading his parishioners and clan from joining the Prince, and had likewise, as I am told, sent the Duke very pointed intelligence of all the Prince's motions. In consequence of this, on the Saturday after the battle, he went to the place where his friend was, designing to carry him to his own house. But as he came near, he saw an officer's Command, with the officer at their head, fire a platoon at fourteen of the wounded Highlanders, whom they had taken all out of that house, and bring them all down at once; and when he came up, he found his cousin and his servant were two of that unfortunate number. I questioned Mr. Shaw himself about this story, who plainly acknowledged the fact, and was indeed the person who informed me of the precise number; and when I asked him if he knew of any more that were murdered in that manner on the same day, he told me that he believed there were in all two-and-twenty.
[The next extract is one of the less sickening accounts of the treatment of the prisoners whose lives were spared:]
Source.—A paper read by Mr. James Bradshaw, and delivered by him to the Sheriff of Surrey, just before his execution on Friday, November 28, 1746. Quoted by Jesse, Memoirs of the Pretenders. Pp. 270, 274, 275. Bohn's edition.
I was put into one of the Scotch kirks, together with a great number of wounded prisoners, who were stripped naked, and then left to die of their wounds without the least assistance; and though we had a surgeon of our own, a prisoner in the same place, yet he was not permitted to dress their wounds, but his instruments were taken from him on purpose to prevent it, and in consequence of this many expired in the utmost agonies. Several of the wounded were put on board the "Jean" of Leith, and there died in lingering tortures. Our general allowance, while we were prisoners there, was half a pound of meal a-day, which was sometimes increased to a pound, but never exceeded it; and I myself was an eyewitness, that great numbers were starved to death. Their barbarity extended so far as not to suffer the men who were put on board the "Jean" to lie down even on planks, but they were obliged to sit on large stones, by which means their legs swelled as big almost as their bodies. These are some few of the cruelties exercised, which being almost incredible in a Christian country, I am obliged to add an asseveration to the truth of them; and I do assure you, upon the word of a dying man, as I hope for mercy at the day of judgment, I assert nothing but what I know to be true.
Source.—The Poetical Works of William Collins; with the Commentary of Langhorne. London. Printed by Charles Whittingham for John Sharpe, 1804.
How sleep the brave, who sink to rest,
By all their country's wishes blest!
When Spring, with dewy fingers cold,
Returns to deck their hallow'd mould,
She there shall dress a sweeter sod
Than Fancy's feet have ever trod.
By fairy hands their knell is rung;
By forms unseen their dirge is sung;
There Honour comes, a pilgrim grey,
To bless the turf that wraps their clay;
And Freedom shall a while repair,
To dwell a weeping hermit there!
IV.
An Adventure of Charles Edward.
Source.—The Young Chevalier; or a General Narrative of all that befel that Unfortunate Adventurer, from his Fatal Defeat to His final Escape. By a gentleman (1746). Pp. 75-78.
Here it was [upon the coast of Glenelg] that the Chevalier went through one of the oddest Adventures, that perhaps ever happened to any Man; for at this place a Company of Militia (the Monroe's, if I mistake not) were waiting, in hopes the unhappy Fugitive might fall into their Hands: To make the more sure of their Prize, they had with them a Blood-hound, to trace him out. The Dog was within a Stone's throw of them, and the Man not much farther off, when McKinnon observed them, and particularly suspected the Animal. Whereupon he advised his Passenger instantly to pull off all his Cloaths, and enter the Water up to the Neck: "For," said he, "if you go in with your Cloaths on, you may catch your Death. In the mean time I will divert the smell of the Dog, with these Fishes," he having some on a string in his hand. The affrighted Chevalier instantly did as he was directed, and McKinnon having hid the Chevalier's Cloaths in a Clift of a Rock, began to amuse the Dog with his Fish. The Artifice succeeded so well, as effectually to secure the Chevalier; but the Animal would not quit the Fisherman till he was secured by the Militia-Men, who kept him all Night, and Part of the next Day. They examined him, but to no Purpose; and upon his telling his true Name, viz. McLeod, they became indifferent about him; and he representing that his Family was starving, having nothing to subsist on but the Product of his Industry as a Fisherman, they dismissed him. When he left them, he set out, as if he intended a very different Course to that he really intended, and afterwards struck into; for when he judged himself out of their Reach, he turned into the Road leading to the Place where he supposed the Chevalier yet was. He found him there indeed, and employ'd in such a Manner, as could not but strike even the rough Heart of the hardy Fisherman, innur'd to all the Extremities of Wind and Weather, Hunger and Cold. He found him seeking out Muscles and other small Shell-Fish, upon the Craigs, and breaking them between two Stones, eating the Fish as he opened them, to satisfy the Cravings of an Appetite, never in all Probability so Keen before. He told McKinnon "that he had continued in the Water for several Hours, after he left him; but at last ventured out, and put on his Cloaths; but durst not offer to remove from that desert spot, judging it too hazardous to go up into the Country, to which he was an utter Stranger."... As soon as he set Eyes on M'Kinnon, he fell down on his Knees, and with up-lifted Hands, thank'd Heaven for returning him his Friend; which he did in these Words, as near as could possibly be remember'd by the Fisherman, who heard him, and who repeated them to the Person from whom I had my Information. "O God," said he, "I thank thee that I have not fallen into the Hands of my Enemies; and surely thou hast still something for me to do, since in this strange Place thou hast sent me back my Guide."
