CHAPTER IV.

THE DUKE AT FONTENOY--CULLODEN MOOR--THE CAVE--A BRAVE HIGHLAND LASSIE--A RACE FOR LIFE--"TO HORSE! TO HORSE!"

"The wild and lawless times came soon after this, my laddie," said Auld-da, next evening, when I was once more seated by his knee.

"Plenty of fighting I hope, Auld-da?"

"Alas! yes, fighting and trouble too. But let me tell you. Your Prince Charlie landed, and the fiery cross was sent through the glens to assemble the clans near Braemar. How quickly the clans answered the summons is historical. Would it had only been in a better cause, but, dear boy, I can see the finger of God in it now; ay, and in all the trouble that followed."

I sat uneasy on my stool for a moment as Auld-da said this, for I could not help thinking of all the Bloody Duke's atrocities after the terrible fight of Culloden, but I did not dare to interrupt the dear old man.

"With the rebellion itself, boy, I have nothing to do at present, except in so far as it affected your mother's ancestors and mine.

"Just a word or two, however," he continued, after a thoughtful pause, "about this Duke of Cumberland. I do not want to defend his terrible conduct after the victory of Culloden. No Englishman that I ever yet met has done that, but the Duke has been called a coward because of his cruelty. He was a brave, dashing man and an able leader nevertheless, and he was probably the only Saxon who could have quelled the rebellion.

"Have you heard of the battle of Fontenoy, laddie?"

"Only at school, Auld-da; and at school everything is so dry, you know."

"True, true, and to have the cane and the 'tawse'* over a poor boy's head is not the best way to develop his mental powers, or brighten his memory.

* A leather strap with which the boys were flogged on the hands.

"George II., then, was reigning in 1745, and the Duke of Cumberland was his son. In the spring of this year Louis XV. collected a great army of 76,000 in Flanders, under the command of Marshal Saxe, a man of undoubted military genius. In the early part of May, Saxe laid siege to Tournay. Now the British were then in alliance with the Dutch and with the Austrians. But neither came up to the scratch at the time their men were wanted most. Britain sent nearly 30,000 men to Europe--fellows who could fight--and among these were the Royal Scots. The Dutch had promised 50,000 men, and sent 23,000; while the Austrians only mustered eight or nine squadrons of cavalry, under the command of Marshal Konigsagg, who wanted everything his own way, and looked upon our Duke of Cumberland as little more than a boy.

"Prince Waldeck commanded the Dutch, and at his earnest supplication, Cumberland marched to relieve Tournay.

"The Allies, having made up their minds to do so, ought to have struck at once, but instead of that they shilly-shallied and dilly-dallied till Marshal Saxe was prepared and ready for battle. For this clever general left 5,000 men to continue the blockade of Tournay, and with 60,000 soldiers marched to near Fontenoy, where he quietly chose his own battle-field, and as quietly entrenched it, on the braes that slope upwards from the right banks of the Scheldt. It was a splendid position. Fontenoy and a valley lay in their front. Both Fontenoy and the village of Antoine were strongly garrisoned and fortified, and there were redoubts between the two.

"On the 10th of May, nothing daunted at the terrible obstacles to be overcome, Cumberland advanced and drove in the French outposts. Then night fell, and his army lay on their arms till four next morning, when the battle began in earnest.

"The Duke, in person, led the Hanoverians and British, advancing against the French left. But now blundering began; for Ingoldsby was sent to clear a wood, and, mistaking some sharp-shooters who occupied it for a whole division, retreated.

"Meanwhile the Dutch, under Prince Waldeck, had been sent to attack the French right, also Fontenoy itself, supported by one of our Highland regiments. Those Dutch fight well at times. They did not that day. They proved arrant cowards. The Highlanders positively prodded them on to fight, but at last they fairly gave way, leaving this single Scottish regiment to face a hail of shot from the batteries and 5,000 French foot.

"This regiment had to retreat, or rather they were called upon to support the Duke, who had dashed on with his brave troops.

"The fighting now, in battery and in redoubt as well as in the open, was close and awful. The British and Hanoverians lay in heaps, and the French suffered too.

"But victory seemed in the hands of the Duke, and even Marshal Saxe thought he had lost the day; till suddenly an officer rode up to him just as he was about to seek safety in flight.

"'Sir, sir,' he cried, 'the Dutch are not coming up; they are leaving those brave English and Hanoverians to their fate.'

"'Good! send, then, all the troops from Fontenoy and Antoine to our assistance, and sad shall the fate of the brave English be.'

"Saxe therefore endeavoured now, with all his troops--notable among whom was an Irish regiment--who, as Walter Scott says,

"'Move to death with military glee.'

"Yes, to death, but would it not be to victory also? Ay, boy, for the British and Hanoverians now got massed, and, in this condition, were attacked by artillery and by foot, in front and on both flanks--truly a terrible tulzie. How well we fought is a matter of history, for when obliged to retire at last, the Duke left behind him 4000 British dead and wounded, and 2000 Hanoverians.

"But no prisoners save the wounded fell into the hands of the French, and never a standard.

"The Duke, in this fearful battle, had been the first to advance, and he was the last to retreat.

"So you see, boy, the Duke was no coward."

"But what cowards the Dutch were, Auld-da," I replied evasively.

"True, boy, true; and so terribly enraged at them were the British, that had there not been an enemy coming up behind, they would have fallen upon them in force, and the strangest battle in history would have been fought.

"But now, lad, let us return to the Braes of R----, when the fiery cross was carried through Strathglass and the glens around. Several families made no response. Among these were our own Robertsons, despite the fact that Lord Lovat was a cousin.

"Even before this, Raoul Dhu had shown his enmity to our family in many ways. He had taunted my father's father.

"'Charlie our Prince,' he said one day, 'will soon be landed. Of course, Robertson, you will be the first to join his standard?'

"'Indeed and indeed, Raoul,' was the bold reply. 'I'll be after doing nothing of the sort.'

"'What, not follow the fiery cross!'

"'I'll follow no cross save that which our Saviour carried, Raoul. If the Prince does land, it will only be to bring ruin and bloodshed on our poor country; to give the eyes of our young men to the ravens, our women and children to rapine and massacre. No, Raoul, I will not follow that cross. And I'd tell Lord Lovat that to his face, and the Chief Lochiel as well. Verily theirs is a losing cause----'

"'Is that why you will not fight, Robertson?'

"'No, Raoul Dhu, the Robertsons never were cowards, but would spend the last drop of their blood in a cause that was just. If you dare say the reverse----'

"Robertson drew himself up and fingered his dirk.

"'If I dared?' said Raoul, 'What then?'

"'I'd stretch you dead among the heather.'

"'Ah! my friend, Raoul Dhu takes a lot of frightening, but I speak for your own sake when I tell you that, if you join not our standard when it flutters on the Braes of Mar, Heaven help your wife, your children, and the beautiful Fiona as well. Good-day.'

"One evening, about a month after this, Muirachie the dwarf came rushing in panting and breathless.

"'O,' he cried in Gaelic, 'I have heard----I----'

"'What is it, Muirachie?'

"'O, the pretty lady, master, I have heard that Raoul Dhu means mischief.'

"'Let him come, my lad; he'll find the Robertsons can hold their own.'

"But if Raoul meant mischief then, he had no chance to carry it out, so quickly was he marched off from the glen with Lord Lovat's forces.

"Well, the summer passed away quietly enough, and there were few young men left about even to till the land or gather in the scanty harvest.

"Report and rumour reached our family, sometimes of victory to the rebels, sometimes of defeat, but there was nothing reliable. News came slowly in those days, boy, and oftentimes the glittering swords or bayonets of a foe far outstripped the runner.*

* Runner: a message-bearer or postman.

"But although from first to last Robertson felt certain that Charlie's cause would be defeated, he never attempted to minimise the danger. Well he knew that a beaten rebel army would do all in their power to destroy any of the loyalists they came across.

"Robertson would fight to the last, however. When peace returned he would be safe.

"The farm he held in no way resembled a fort, but, nevertheless, if strengthened on three sides by ramparts and palisades, a few resolute men would--Robertson believed--be able to hold it for a day, if not two, against stragglers from a beaten army.

"Winter came on, and a dreary one it was.

"Robertson determined now to strengthen his place, for rumours were floating in the air that Prince Charlie was in full retreat back through Scotland, pursued by the implacable Duke of Cumberland.

"All the men, Williamie, that your ancestor could muster were ten, including Muirachie, the faithful dwarf.

"But trenches were thrown up, and a strong, loop-holed, wooden fence, and, on the whole, the farm soon looked quite formidable.

"The men were principally shepherds, but strong, hardy fellows, and all were accustomed to shoot, for many a hare, and many a deer even, they had brought down on Lord Lovat's estate.

"No doubt the Prince would make one last stand at Inverness, or near it, and the man most to be dreaded, if he were not already slain, was Raoul Dhu. Even Fiona knew this, and shuddered when she thought of the revenge he might take on her and hers.

"Then came the fearful battle at Culloden Moor, only a few miles from Inverness.

"Ill news flies apace, and it was speedily known that the clans were beaten and scattered.

"They ran in all directions, the Prince himself flying from the fatal field on horseback.

"Then stragglers, war-worn and weary, began to come into Beauly.

"Some passed on up the glens; others stayed in the village to rant, and revel, and drink.

"It was just a day after the fight that, in the midst of a posse of these revellers, there appeared a tall, dark man, in tattered dress which was all blood-stained.

"It was Raoul Dhu, and a dozen hands at least were held out to bid him welcome.

"He tossed off a bumper of fiery whisky, and, throwing himself into a chair, assumed a nonchalant air.

"'Yes, my lads,' he said, 'we are beaten, but I will not have it that we are vanquished. Our cause is not lost. We shall rise again. I swear it on my dirk.'

"As he spoke he drew the dagger from its scabbard, and kissed its hilt.

"'Scotland ought to have risen to a man. Why did it not?'

"'Shame on all cowards!' cried the men. 'Where shall we find one? We will fling him dead into the nearest loch.'

"'Pah!' said Raoul, 'they are too numerous. There is Robertson of the Braes, not three miles distant.'

"'Ay, ay,' shouted the rebels. 'Robertson! Robertson! let us dig the fox out, give his house to the flames, and his flesh to the eagles!'

"'Stay, men, stay. We must not be rash. Rashness lost us many a fight. Let us wait till night falls. Few of Prince Charlie's brave fellows have come this way. No red-coats will follow. They will go Badenoch way, after the main body. And, see here, at Robertson's farm is one bonnie birdie that I wanted to cage before the --45. She must be treated kindly, and put under my protection. But when night falls I am with you.

"'Now, piper, play up, and we shall dance.'

"No one who had seen that Highland reel so mad, so merry, could have believed that these very men were vanquished soldiers, who might soon be surrounded by the Duke's troops, and cut to pieces.

"There was a spy among them, though, hidden in a corner--none other than Muirachie himself. At a time when the revelry was at its wildest he managed to escape unseen, and hurried away to the Braes.

"On hearing the news that the dwarf brought, Robertson immediately called in his men, closed his ports, and prepared for action.

"Well he knew he had to play a dangerous and deadly game, for Raoul Dhu's band of revenge-seeking rebels would doubtless be increased by scores, when it commenced its march to the Braes.

"His difficulty was to know what to do with his children, his wife, and sister-in-law. Rather, he told his men, than they should fall into the power of those drunken and infuriated rebels, he would shoot them with his own hand.

"'No, no, Mister McRobb'--it was faithful Muirachie who spoke--'it is mysel' that knows ta place to hide ta poor leddies in whetefer.'

"'Place of concealment? Where? where?'

"'Ta whisky-still down ta glen.'

"'You can guide them there?'

"To pe surely, Mister McRobb. Muirachie can do it.'

"The shades of evening were already falling, and there was no time to lose. In a few minutes, therefore, Robertson's family had commenced a perilous descent towards the stream, and soon, guided by Muirachie, found themselves within a cave. It was so concealed as to render detection impossible.*

* In the same still, since those days, many and many a gallon of whisky has been made and smuggled. It is only a few years since it was discovered and raided by the Excise.

"Muirachie lit a big oil lamp which, at all events, rendered the dungeon a little less dreadful. Then he hurried away.

"'I must help ta kill ta foe,' he said as he took his leave.

"'Can they possibly hold out till the Royalist soldiers arrive?' This was the question that Mrs. Robertson anxiously asked her sister as soon as they were left alone.

"'No,' answered Fiona; 'if we have to await assistance, all will be lost and your husband slain.'

"'Sister, sister, what shall we do?'

"'Not wait for assistance,' was the calm response, 'but seek it.'

"'What mean you, Fiona?'

"Fiona had hastily proceeded to wrap herself in a Highland shepherd-tartan plaid. She next put on her head a bonnet of the shape now called Tam-o'-Shanter, and under this she soon tucked her bonnie hair. Then she seized a crook that she found in a corner.

"'Sister Mary,' she said resolutely, 'the 1st regiment is with the Duke. If not already dead, my Ian is there. I am going to seek the Duke's assistance to save us.'

"'But, girl, girl--

"'Detain me not a moment,' she cried. 'Every minute is precious. A minute lost may mean a life. Pray for me, Mary; that is all you can do.'

"She was gone, and poor Mary threw herself on a rude bedstead to weep and to pray, her children crowding round and trying to console her.

"There was a struggling moon shining through the rifts in the dark and threatening clouds, and giving now and then a little light, and the wind moaned drearily among the silver birchen trees hardly yet in leaf.

"But a louder moan soon fell on Fiona's ear as she staggered down the dangerous steep. It was the roar of the stream beneath. To her it was a hopeful sound. Though falling oft, and bruising her tender limbs, she kept steadily on, and the streamlet guided her to the river, and in another hour she had passed Beauly on the left, and was hurrying along the road that leads to Inverness.

"No braver deed was ever done by any girl, I think," continued Auld-da, "whether Scotch or English. Indeed, I doubt whether an English girl would have attempted it, or been possessed of the strength to carry it out.

"Once clear of the town, and a mile or two on the road to Inverness, a distance of about fourteen miles to the camp, near Culloden, lay before her, and now the danger and horror began. The night seemed to grow rather darker. Fiona had the eyes of an eagle as far as sight was concerned, and she needed these to-night, and ears as well as eyes. For a time all was silent, and she walked on briskly enough. Down to the left she could hear the low sob of the sea on the beach, and she even caught glimpses of it now and then, sleeping quietly under the stars; to her right were birchen woods, and the night wind soughed mournfully through their drooping branches, while the stems of the trees could be seen against the heather, like spirits that seemed to walk and move as she ran briskly on.

"Now and then an owl flew overhead, and its weird cry was startling in the extreme.

"More than once she stumbled over guns and belts, and even claymores, that had been thrown hastily away by the fugitives.

"A sudden thought seemed to strike her, and, bending down, she picked one of these swords up. If attacked, this Highland maiden meant to sell her life dearly.

"But what is that dark object by the wayside? She stops to gaze fearfully towards it. A low groan is borne to her ears, and a voice saying in piteous tones, 'Water, water, in Heaven's name!'

"There is the sound of a rippling rill near; she hesitates not a moment, but, doffing her Highland bonnet, turns it outside in and fills it.

"A ray of moonlight falls upon the form of the wounded soldier who has crept off the wood to die. He blesses her as he drinks, and whispers 'Farewell!' But now she hears voices, and, drawing her plaid close round her, she crouches beneath a tree.

"They were not red-coats, she could see that at a glance, but kilted rebels, and as soon as they passed, she hurried on once more.

"She sees many a sad sight in the darkling, and meets many men flying onwards to the west. All these she avoids.

"But a very narrow escape she has from death or worse. She remembers there is a near cut through a part of the wood that will save her miles, and, knowing every inch of the country, determines to take it.

"Suddenly, on turning round the corner of a rock, a glare of light from a camp-fire falls on her face and form. Around this sit or lie half a score of reckless Highlanders, some with recent cuts upon their faces that made them hideous to behold.

"'A spy! a spy!' cried one.

[Illustration: "A spy! A spy!" cried one.]

"'Spy or not spy, a right fair maid. By my soul I shall catch her dead or alive.'

"A pistol shot or two rang out as Fiona dashed back into the darkness of the wood, and a bullet whizzed closely past her ear.

"For the first time now since she had departed, the danger of her situation rose up before her mind. What a fearful thing it would be to fall into the clutches of these reckless and lawless men! Fear lent speed to her feet, and she flew on, hardly knowing or caring whither. Her pursuer, coming straight from the firelight, could at first see but indistinctly; but he soon recovered sight, and ran like a deer after the figure in front. The wood was now more open, and this added to the chance of her being caught. It was, indeed, a race for life.

"And now she sees the wood again but a little way ahead, and increases her speed. If she can once get into the shade of the trees, she thinks she will be safe.

"The increase in speed was but a last spurt, however, and now she feels her strength fast failing her. She stops and presses a hand to her brow.

"'God give me strength!" she mutters.

Next moment she has turned on her pursuer like a tigress at bay.

"'Stand!' he cries, 'or I'll dirk you.'

"'Come a yard nearer,' she shouts, 'and you are a dead man!'

"But dirk in hand he rushes in.

"The girl's claymore gleams for a moment in the uncertain light; then comes a dull thud.

"The man falls heavily on his face.

"Killed or wounded she stops not to see, but goes hurrying on, and next minute she is safe within the shadows of the friendly wood.

"On she walks now, but cautiously, and has the good luck soon to reach the road once more, only two Scots miles from Inverness.

"But the town she must avoid. There is greater danger there than in the darkling forest.

"The moon has sunk, but the stars are very bright, for the sky has cleared. And far in the east and south she espies a glare in the sky.

"'That must be the Duke's camp!' she thinks.

"Joy now takes the place of fear, and she walks bravely on, her head erect, as becomes a fearless Highland maiden, but her hand upon the claymore.

"She is near the camp, but still in the darkness, though watch-fires light the bush around her. Suddenly there is a rattle as of a musket being brought to the shoulder.

"'Who goes there?"

"'Friend.'

"'The watchword. Speak quickly, or I fire.'

"'I'm a woman!' cried poor Fiona. 'You will not shoot a girl. I have a message for the Duke."

"'Advance, girl.'

"She drew near to the sentry, who was one of the 1st, or Royal Scots. Loyal Scots would have been a good name for them in those days as well as ever since.

"The sentry held up a light.

"'I must do my duty,' he said. 'Hand over that claymore. Why it drips with gore! Are you a rebel?'

"'I am not; I am a loyal and royal Scot.' But she added, 'I fear I have slain a rebel.'

"Hearing voices, three figures muffled in cloaks, with swords that clanked upon the ground, came from a tent and approached the spot.

"'Captain McDonald,' said the sentry, 'this is a young lady who claims audience with the Duke."

"'The Duke cannot be seen, Miss Stranger,' said the officer, 'but come to our tent. We would hear your story.'

"A young officer was sitting writing at a rude table in the tent as the party entered. His back was towards her, but as soon as she spoke he started to his feet and looked at her.

"'What, Fiona!'

"'It is I, Ian. O, thank Heaven you are safe!'

"The officer had taken the girl in his arms, and was gazing fondly in her face.

"But now her eyes swam, and all became dark. When she again looked up, Ian was bending over her as she lay on a plaid.

"'Have I been long ill?'

"'Only a few minutes, Fiona, ma chree.'

"'Then there may still be time to assist my dear brother-in-law, his wife, and children. But see, Ian, day is already breaking. You must to horse if precious lives would be saved.'

"And hurriedly now she told her lover and his comrades all the story.

"Not more hurriedly than Captain McDonald gave the orders that followed.

"'To horse, to horse, immediately, sergeant!' he shouted. 'Thirty men armed to the teeth. If not here within ten minutes, I will cleave the last man with my sword!'

"And now, laddie," said Auld-da, pausing, "have you had enough for to-night?"

"No, no, no," I cried. "Tell me how it ended."