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THE BLACK WATCH
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“Oh! oar sodger lads look’d braw, look’d braw,
Wi* their tartans, kilt, an’ a’, an’ a',
Wi* their bonnets,, an’ feathers, an’ glitterin’ gear,
An’ pibrochs sounding loud an’ clear.
Will they a’ return to their ain dear glen?
Will they a* return, our Highland men?
Second-sighted Sandy look’d fu’ wae,
An’ mithers grat when they marched away.”
—Baroness Nairn.
T0 return to the history
of the Black Watch. The withdrawal of that regiment from the Highlands
was the signal for the disaffected clans to set the law at defiance; and
it cannot be doubted but that the conduct of the Government greatly
embittered their feelings, and thus favoured the designs of the
Jacobites, who now began with much zeal to concoct plans for the
restoration of the House of Stuart Rumours of these at length reached
the ears of His Majesty's ministers, and began to open their eyes to the
folly of keeping no watch over the machinations of these restless
spirits, who beheld with displeasure their ancient authority succumbing
to the daily increasing power of the law.
To repair the mistake, orders were issued in the beginning of 1745 to
enrol a new Black Watch, or rather three companies of local militia as a
reserve force to the old Black Watch, now serving in Flanders with great
honour to themselves, and benefit to their country. The new levy was
principally raised on Deeside and in the Highlands of Perthshire; and
though the privates were not of the same social standing as those of the
original companies, they were still select men, and not unworthy of the
regiment whose name they bore. The Deeside corps was commanded by James
Farquharson, younger of Invercauld, whose superior officer was his
brother-in-law—the Laird of Mackintosh.
This force, even could it have been relied on for such a service, was
far too weak to be any check on the insurrectionary spirit that now
fired the clans; and scarcely were its numbers complete when the
rebellion burst like a thunderclap over the Highlands. The object of the
Government had been to obtain the services of certain chiefs, rather
than to raise a force capable of suppressing a rising, should that take
place. The fact that the chief of the Mackintoshes and the heir of
Invercauld were in His Majesty's pay, was assumed to be a guarantee that
their clans would at least keep quiet, if they would not take part with
the Hanoverian troops in the struggle now beginning.
But these expectations were doomed to disappointment Several hundred
Farquharsons came out under Francis of Monaltrie, young Invercauld’s
cousin, and others united themselves to the Mackintoshes, under his
sister, who, in the absence of her husband, raised the clan, and thus
earned for herself the facetious, but not inappropriate name of “Colonel
Anne;” and young Invercauld himself, though an officer under King
George, was the accepted son-in-law of Lord George Murray, the
commander-in-chief of Prince Charles’s army. Similar complications
obtained among the other clans. It was not therefore to be expected that
the royal militia would be very forward in affording information of the
designs of their kinsmen of the opposite faction; and so the event
proved. Prince Charles’s standard had floated on the breeze in
Glenfinnan several days before the authorities in Scotland were aware of
his arrival.
In the hurried measures at length adopted to oppose the insurgents, the
militia were joined to the regular troops, under Sir John Cope, but they
served with a bad grace during his brief and inglorious campaign. One
company refused to embark with him at Aberdeen, as being contrary to the
terms of their engagement; and another deserted almost to a man on the
night preceding the battle of Prestonpans, while a few of the officers
succeeded in getting themselves taken prisoners by their clansmen,
sometimes under rather peculiar circumstances, as was the case with the
Laird of Mackintosh.
This brave officer, on being apprehended by a party of Highland scouts,
demanded to be brought before a person of rank to whom he might
surrender himself a prisoner of war. He was accordingly conducted into
the presence of his wife, then acting the part of chief of the clan in
the Chevalier’s army. As he presented his sword she greeted him in true
military style—“Your servant, Captain,” to which he replied with equal
brevity, “Your servant, Colonel,” and so they ended the matter.
The above recorded incident occurred only a short time previous to the
battle of Culloden. Lady Mackintosh had, at an early period of the
insurrection, raised the clan in the interest of the Prince, from whom
she received many marks of attention and consideration. On one occasion
she was the means of saving him from captivity, perhaps death, at the
hands of Lord Loudoun’s Highlanders. The event is thus narrated by the
historian of the Rebellion—“On Sunday, the 16th February, Charles
reached Moy Hall, the seat of the Laird of Mackintosh, about sixteen
miles from Inverness. The laird was absent on duty as a partizan of the
Government The lady (Invercauld’s daughter), who, as already mentioned,
had raised the clan for the Prince, received him and his immediate
attendants with great hospitality. Charles designed to rest here until
his men should come up, before going nearer to Inverness, where the Earl
of Loudoun had about sixteen hundred men in arms. Some one— suspected to
be Grant of Dalrachny—sent information to Lord Loudoun that Charles was
lodged at Moy Hall, with a slender retinue; and the Earl immediately
formed the design of marching thither to take him prisoner.
Notwithstanding the exertions he made to keep this scheme a secret, it
became known to the Dowager Lady Mackintosh, who lived in Inverness, and
who immediately despatched a messenger to put her daughter-in-law and
the Prince on their guard. Meanwhile, in the evening, 1500 men had taken
the road for Moy, under the conduct of the Earl. The messenger, a boy
named Lauchlan Mackintosh, tried to pass through the army on the road,
but finding this difficult, and dreading that he might be arrested, he
lay down in a ditch by the way side till all had passed, and then
bounded off by a circuitous road towards Moy. About five in the morning
(17th February), he reached the house ‘in a top sweat,’ bearing
information that the Earl of Loudoun’s men were little more than a mile
distant The guard instantly awoke the Prince, who dressed quickly and
came down to the courtyard. Lady Mackintosh appeared there likewise, ‘in
her smock petticoat,’ for it was no time for delicacy, and exerted
herself to get the Prince and his guard sent to a place of safety, and
all his valuable effects put out of the way. He went along Moy Loch to a
place more than a mile off, where he met Lochiel and a party of his
troops, with whom he resolved to stand his ground in case of an attack.
Meanwhile Lord Loudoun’s expedition had experienced a strange
interruption. Lady Mackintosh had, the night before, sent out a
patrolling party, consisting of five men armed with muskets, to keep
guard on the road towards Inverness. The head of the party was a clever
fellow named Fraser, the blacksmith of Moy. When he became aware of the
approach of a great body of men along the road, he instantly
comprehended the design in view. Planting his men at intervals along the
wayside, he fired his piece at the head of the approaching body, and by
the shot killed the Laird of MacLeod’s piper, reputed the best of his
time in the Highlands. The other men also fired, conveying the
impression of a wide-spread body of opponents. The blacksmith was then
heard crying upon the Camerons and Macdonalds to advance on the villains
who designed to murder the Prince. The van of the advancing troops
immediately fell into a panic, and, turning back with precipitation,
they threw the rear into confusion, oversetting and trampling many as
they went along. The whole army became inspired with the same terror,
and fled amain to Inverness, where they arrived in a state of extreme
distress from bruises, exhaustion, and mortification of mind.” Such was
the rout of Moy, in which it may be said that “ Colonel Anne,” with five
retainers put to flight 1500 of his Majesty’s best troops, commanded by
an officer who was deservedly reputed one of the best generals of his
age. It was, therefore, small shame to her husband to be compelled to
surrender his sword to such a heroine.
After the disastrous defeat of the clans on Culloden Moor, the part
assigned to the Highland Militia must have been very revolting to their
feelings. They were united to the army of Cumberland, and employed to
hunt down the fugitives, bum their houses, and plunder their lands. To
the credit of their humanity, however, it deserves to be recorded that
on Deeside at least they did more to alleviate than aggravate the
sufferings of their unfortunate clansmen, displaying considerable
ingenuity in leading the English soldiers away from their places of
concealment, and otherwise affording them means of escape. To Invercauld
in particular his kinsmen were under a deep debt of gratitude for the
part he acted.
Old John was accounted one of the shrewdest and most prudent men in the
whole Highlands, while his son, James, uniting to not a little of his
father’s wisdom a more amiable and benevolent disposition, deservedly
secured for himself, throughout the long period, 45 years, during which
he held the estate, an amount of influence both with the Government and
among his clansmen and dependants that had never before been enjoyed by
one of his name. From the suppression of the rebellion to his death in
1805, no other name fills so large a space in the annals of Deeside; and
in the generation that followed, no memory was more revered and
cherished than that of the "Old Laird,” as he was called. His
disposition did not lead him to adopt the profession of arms on which he
had entered just as he had attained his majority, and the service he had
seen was of a nature rather to repel than attract him. He accordingly
soon quitted it for a more peaceful, and probably a more useful life.
To the company in which he had served a new and more honourable career
was soon presented. The men had been fired with the fame of the brave
43rd, or Old Black Watch, perhaps also influenced by the consideration
the Government had at length shown for the feelings of that regiment in
not requiring it to serve in Scotland during the civil war. At all
events, when the militia companies were invited to form a small
detachment to recruit the numbers of the 43rd, previous to their
re-embarking for foreign war, so great was their eagerness for the
service that they petitioned to be allowed to join the regulars en
masse; and so ardent was every man to measure swords with the French
that, to avoid giving offence to those left behind, recourse was had to
the ballot to select the required number.
This ardour on the part of the Highlanders requires a word of
explanation. It might be thought that the French, who had encouraged the
rising in favour of the House of Stuart, would have had the sympathies,
rather than the hostility, of a people devoted to the cause of that
unfortunate dynasty. But while the Government clans hated them for
having fomented the insurrection, the others entertained no better
feeling towards them, believing that they had duped them into rising,
and then betrayed and deserted them. They accordingly bore them a deeper
grudge than they bore the English. A curious incident, illustrative of
the hold this feeling had taken of the Highland mind, occurred many
years after, at the capture of Quebec. The brave general, who fell on
that occasion, had been engaged at Culloden, and taken some part in the
subsequent severities practised on the insurgents, yet the Highlanders
had no objection afterwards to serve under him. One of those who had
been out in the ’45, but was now serving under Wolfe in America, was
discovered after the battle of Quebec, seated on a fragment of the
ruins, sedately taking a pinch of snuff, with the bodies of seven
Frenchmen, all slain by his own hand, lying around him; and it is
related that when asked why he had dealt so severely by the enemy, he
replied, “ NainseF didna like the French, they werena true to Charlie.”
In November, 1747, the volunteer band of the Black Watch set sail from
Leith, to join the regiment at the seat of war; and on many a well
fought field in Flanders fairly earned the reputation of being the most
daring soldiers in the British army. Their comrades who remained at home
were still continued as a militia corps, though little or no active
service was expected of them. The task of extinguishing the last embers
of the late insurrection was entrusted to parties of the “ English Red
Coats,” as they were called, whose activity was stimulated by the hope
of plunder and prize-money.*
It is probable that the following pathetic song refers to some disaster
that occurred in these troublous times, though the circumstances that
gave rise to it are now unknown—
“YOUNG MONALTRIE,
“Hark! Hark! it is the horn
On mountain breezes borne.
Awake! it is the morn:
Awake, Monaltrie!
“One word to his fair bride,
Who’s sleeping by his side,
We can no longer bide;
Away, Monaltrie!
“She sits in her lone
tower,
At evening’s pleasant hour ;
Dark shades around her lower—
Come back, Monaltrie!
"What shrieks of wild despair
Awake the midnight air?
*Tis a frantic lady fair,
Who seeks Monaltrie.
“That evening by his side,
Reposed his lovely bride.
Fair Agnes there has died
For Young Monaltrie.”
For many years after the
suppression of the rebellion the country was in a depressed and
poverty-stricken condition. A new system of living had necessitated an
entire change of avocations, and these were not speedily or willingly
adopted. The old rent of personal service was inappropriate and
valueless to the proprietors. Even payments in kind, which was the first
step in the change, were ill suited to their requirements, now that
every obligation was commuted into a money value. Money there was none
among the tenants, and no means of raising it, agriculture and other
industrial employments being as yet only in their infancy.
While the Highlands were in this condition the preliminaries of a peace
between Great Britain and France were signed. The army in Flanders was
recalled, and a very considerable reduction made in the military
establishments of the country. Had the Highland soldiers been disbanded,
the evils arising from a superabundant population would have been
greatly increased, but, fortunately, this did not happen. The “Old Black
Watch” had so signalized itself in the war, that, while other regiments
were reduced, it was not only retained but a special mark of honour was
designed for it Its name and number were now changed to the ever
memorable 42nd Royal Highlanders, than which a prouder title does not
emblazon the page of the military history of this or any other kingdom.
The peace was of short duration. But now at length the importance of the
Highlands as a nursery for the British army was fully recognised, and on
the renewal of hostilities most of the new regiments were thence
obtained. Their first service was in America, where they bore the brunt
of far more trying and sanguinary campaigns than their companions in
arms had been subjected to in the Low Countries. This may be said to
have been the first time that the Highland regiments formed a distinct
brigade in the national army. Their general, Lord Loudoun, was also
commander-in-chief of the expedition.
When we think of this brave band, every bosom in it throbbing with the
love of its native glen, embarking hand to hand and shoulder to shoulder
for a far distant shore—a shore which every man had been accustomed to
associate with penal settlements and the worst of misfortunes—there to
meet, besides their old foes the French, the barbarous warfare of the
wild Indians, while we admire the military ardour that bore them on, we
need not refuse our sympathy with the feelings that oppressed them, and
the sentiment, relative to another occasion, so pathetically expressed
by Lady Naime, comes forcibly over the mind—
“Will they a’ return to
their ain dear glen?
Will they a’ return our Highland men?”
The answer is a
melancholy negative. The graves of the brave who then left our shores
are to be found in Jamaica and Martinique, on the heights of Quebec and
Abraham; and many, very many, slept their last sleep by the gloomy walls
of Ticonderoga, but sadly strange it is that the memory of the present
generation does not point to one who returned to sleep with his fathers
in a green churchyard by the Dee.
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