twelve hundred men. With such an army, where nearly one-half were very imperfectly armed, and with only one guinea in his pocket when he reached the fair city of Perth, the young Chevalier commenced his daring march for the overthrow of three kingdoms. It has often been reckoned one of the maddest freaks in military history—but how would it have been characterized had it succeeded, which it almost did? The wonderful successes of Montrose, with means as inadequate, were not yet forgotten in the Highlands.
The rest of the career of Lochiel is so closely connected with the events of the campaign of 1745, that a full detail of them would necessarily include a narrative of the whole rebellion. We can, therefore, only specify a few particulars. The town of Perth, which fell into the hands of the insurgents after they commenced their descent into the Lowlands, was taken by a party of the Camerons. On crossing the Forth, the great difficulty was to restrain the Highlanders from plundering, as they committed much havoc among the sheep, which they hunted and shot as if they had been hares, and cooked in their own rude fashion. A summary act of justice, executed by Lochiel upon one of these marauders, is thus described by Dugald Graham, the Homer of this eventful rebellion:—
This did enrage the Cameron's chief,
To see his men so play the thief;
And finding one into the act,
He fired, and shot him through the back;
Then to the rest himself addressed:—
'This is your lot, I do protest,
Whoe'er amongst you wrongs a man;
Pay what you get, I tell you plain;
For yet we know not friend or foe,
Nor how all things may chance to go.'"
It was a just and humane order, enforced by politic considerations, and as such, it must have greatly aided in procuring for the wild miscellaneous army that character for forbearance by which it was afterwards distinguished. On reaching Edinburgh, which had closed its gates, and refused to surrender, Charles, with the army of Sir John Cope at his heels, was anxious to place his wild followers within the walls of the ancient capital, but without the bloodshed of a storm, and the odium which such an event would occasion. This resolution, which was so congenial to the character of Lochiel, the gallant chief undertook to execute; and with a select detachment of nine hundred men he marched by night to the city gates, which, however, were too jealously watched to give him access. While he waited for an opportunity, a hackney coach, filled with deputies, that had been sent from the town-council to the Prince's head-quarters, and were returning home by the Canongate, suddenly appeared. As soon as the gate opened to admit them, a party of Highlanders rushed in, disarmed the guards in a twinkling, and cleared the way for their fellows. In this way Edinburgh was captured without shedding a drop of blood, or even making so much noise as to disturb the sleep of its inhabitants. Lochiel again appears on the very foreground of Prestonpans, the victory of which was chiefly attributed to his clan, by whom the dragoons were routed, and the royalist foot left wholly uncovered. In charging cavalry, which was a new event in Highland warfare, he ordered his men to rush forward boldly, and strike at the noses of the horses with their broadswords, without caring about the riders; and the consequence was, that these formidable-looking cavaliers were chased off the
