de Cluny brought off and still preserves; and his tribe lykeways brought off many arms;---the Colonel was afterwards taken up, and, his wounds being dress'd, with great difficultie recovered.Mons.de Cluny lost only in the action twelve men, of whom some haveing been only wounded, fell afterwards into the hands of the enemy, and were sent as slaves to America, whence several of them returned, and one of them is now in France, a serjeant in the Regiment of Royal Scots.How soon the accounts of the enemie's approach had reached the Prince, H.R.H.had immediately ordered Mi-Lord le Comte de Nairne, Brigadier, who, being proscribed, is now in France, with the three batalions of the Duke of Athol, the batalion of the Duke of Perth, and some other troups under his command, in order to support Cluny, and to bring off the artilirie.But the action was intirely over before the Comte de Nairne, with his command, cou'd reach nigh to the place.They therefore return'd all to Penrith, and the artilirie marched up in good order.Nor did the Duke of Comberland ever afterwards dare to come within a day's march of the Prince and his army dureing the course of all that retreat, which was conducted with great prudence and safety when in some manner surrounded by enemies.''
Note BB, p.<? p383>.---Oath upon the Dirk.
As the heathen deities contracted an indelible obligation if they swore by Styx, the Scottish Highlanders had usually some peculiar solemnity attached to an oath which they intended should be binding on them.Very frequently it consisted in laying their hand, as they swore, on their own drawn dirk; which dagger, becoming a party to the transaction, was invoked to punish any breach of faith.But by whatever ritual the oath was sanctioned, the party was extremely desirous to keep secret what the especial oath was, which he considered as irrevocable.This was a matter of great convenience, as he felt no scruple in breaking his asseveration when made in any other form than that which he accounted as peculiarly solemn; and therefore readily granted any engagement which bound him no longer than he inclined.
Whereas, if the oath which he accounted inviolable was once publicly known, no party with whom he might have occasion to contract would have rested satisfied with any other.Louis XI.of France practised the same sophistry, for he also had a peculiar species of oath, the only one which he was ever known to respect, and which, therefore, he was very unwilling to pledge.The only engagement which that wily tyrant accounted binding upon him was an oath by the Holy Cross of Saint Lo d'Angers, which contained a portion of the True Cross.If he prevaricated after taking this oath, Louis believed he should die within the year.The Constable Saint Paul, being invited to a personal conference with Louis, refused to meet the king unless he would agree to ensure him safe conduct under sanction of this oath.But, says Comines, the king replied, he would never again pledge that engagement to mortal man, though he was willing to take any other oath which could be devised.The treaty broke off, therefore, after much chaffering concerning the nature of the vow which Louis was to take.
Such is the difference between the dictates of superstition and those of conscience.
NOTE TO PREFACE, THIRD EDITION, p.<? p4>.<! p469>
A homely metrical narrative of the events of the period, which contains some striking particulars, and is still a great favourite with the lower classes, gives a very correct statement of the behaviour of the mountaineers respecting this same military license; and as the verses are little known, and contain some good sense, we venture to insert them.
THE AUTHOR'S ADDRESS TO ALL IN GENERAL.
Now, gentle readers, I have let you ken My very thoughts, from heart and pen, 'Tis needless for to conten'
Or yet controule, For there's not a word o't I can men'---So ye must thole.
For on both sides, some were not good;
I saw them murd'ring in cold blood, Not the gentlemen, but wild and rude, The baser sort, Who to the wounded had no mood But murd'ring sport!
Ev'n both at Preston and Falkirk, That fatal night ere it grew mirk, Piercing the wounded with their durk, Caused many cry!
Such pity's shown from Savage and Turk As peace to die.
A woe be to such hot zeal, To smite the wounded on the fiell!
It's just they got such groats in kail, Who do the same.
It only teaches crueltys real To them again.
I've seen the men call'd Highland Rogues, With Lowland men make _shangs_ a brogs, Sup kail and brose, and fling the cogs Out at the door, Take cocks, hens, sheep, and hogs, And pay nought for.
I saw a Highlander, 'twas right drole, With a string of puddings hung on a pole, Whipp'd o'er his shoulder, skipped like a fole, Caus'd Maggy bann, Lap o'er the midden and midden-hole, And aff he ran.
When check'd for this, they'd often tell ye---Indeed _her nainsell's_ a tume belly;
You'll no gie't wanting bought, nor sell me;_Hersell_ will hae't;
Go tell King Shorge, and Shordy's Willie, I'll hae a meat.
I saw the soldiers at Linton-brig, Because the man was not a Whig, Of meat and drink leave not a skig, Within his door;They burnt his very hat and wig, And thump'd him sore.
And through the Highlands they were so rude, As leave them neither clothes nor food, Then burnt their houses to conclude;'Twas tit for tat.
How can _her nainsell_ e'er be good, To think on that?
And after all, O shame and grief!
To use some worse than murd'ring thief, Their very gentleman and chief, Unhumanly!
Like Popish tortures, I believe, Such cruelty.
Ev'n what was act on open stage At Carlisle, in the hottest rage, When mercy was clapt in a cage, And pity dead, Such cruelty approv'd by every age, I shook my head.
So many to curse, so few to pray, And some aloud huzza did cry;They cursed the rebel Scots that day, As they'd been nowt Brought up for slaughter, as that way Too many rowt.
Therefore, alas! dear countrymen, O never do the like again, To thirst for vengeance, never ben'
