APPENDIX. INSCRIPTION No. I. N THE MONUMENT OF SIR JAMES MACDONALD AND TWO LITTERS FROM THAT YOUNG GENTLEMAN TO HIS MOTHER. To the memory Of SIR JAMES MACDONALD, Bart. who, in the flower of youth, Had attained to so eminent a degree of knowledge And in every other branch of useful and polite learning, Wholly devoted to study: What can rarely be found with it, Great talents for business, His eloquence was sweet, correct, and flowing; The highest marks of esteem. 1766, The 25th of his life, After a long and extremely painful iìlness, Where, notwithstanding the difference of religion, The fame he left behind him is the best consolation And to his countrymen in this isle, Of a clear and enlightened understanding. And that of all Britain. In testimony of her love, And as the best return she can make For the constant tenderness and affection His much afflicted mother, The LADY MARGARET MACDONALD, Daughter to the Earl of Eglintoune, A. D. 1768. This extraordinary young man, whom I had the pleasure of knowing ind mately, having been deeply regretted by his country, the most minute particu lars concerning him must be interesting to many. I shall therefore insert his two last letters to his mother, Lady Margaret Macdonald, which her ladyship has been pleased to communicate to me. Sir James Macdonald to Lady Margaret. "Rome, 9th July, 1764 “MY DEAR MOTHER,-Yesterday's post brought me your answer to the first letter in which I acquainted you of my illness. Your tenderness and concern upon that account are the same I have always experienced, and to which I have often owed my life. Indeed it never was in so great danger as it has been lately; and though it would have been a very great comfort to me to have bad you near me, yet perhaps I ought to rejoice, on your account, that you had not the pain of such a spectacle. I have been now a week in Rome, and wish I could continue to give you the same good accounts of my recovery as I did in my last; but I must own that, for three days past, I have been in a very weak and miserable state, which however seems to give no uneasiness to my physician. My stomach has been greatly out of order, without any visible cause; and the palpitation does not decrease. I am told that my stomach will soon recover its tone, and that the palpitation must cease in time. So I am willing to believe; and with this hope support the little remains of spirits which I can be supposed to have, on the forty-seventh day of such an illness. Do not imagine I have relapsed; I only recover slower than I expected. If my letter is shorter than usual, the cause of it is a dose of physic, which has weakened me so much to-day, that I am not able to write a long letter. I will make up for it next post, and remain always your most sincerely affectionate son, J. MACDONALD." He grew however, gradually worse; and on the night before his death he wrote as follows from Frescati : "MY DEAR MOTHER,-Though I did not mean to deceive you in my last letter from Rome, yet certainly you would have very little reason to conclude of the very great and constant danger I have gone through ever since that time. My life, which is still almost entirely desperate, did not at that time appear to me so, otherwise I should have represented, in its true colours, a fact which acquires very little horror by that means, and comes with redoubled force by deception. There is no circumstance of danger and pain of which I have not had the experience, for a continued series of above a fortnight; during which time I have settled my affairs, after my death, with as much distinctness as the hurry and the nature of the thing could admit of. In case of the worst, the Abbé Grant will be my executor in this part of the world, and Mr. Mackensie in Scotland, where my object has been to make you and my younger brother as independent of the eldest as possible." NO. II. ACCOUNT OF THE ESCAPE OF THE YOUNG PRETENDER, DRAWN UP BY MR. BOS WELL. PRINCE CHARLES EDWARD, after the battle of Culloden, was conveyed to what is called the Long Island, where he lay for some time concealed. But intelligence having been obtained where he was, and a number of troops having come in quest of him, it became absolutely necessary for him to quit that country without delay. Miss Flora Macdonald, then a young lady, animated by what she thought the sacred principle of loyalty, offered, wita the magna nimity of a heroine, to accompany him in an open boat to Sky, though the coast they were to quit was guarded by ships. He dressed himself in woman's clothes, and passed as her supposed maid, by the name of Betty Bourke, an Irish girl. They got off undiscovered, though several shots were fired to bring them to, and landed at Mugstot, the seat of Sir Alexander Macdonald. Sit Alexander was then at Fort Augustus, with the Duke of Cumberland; but i his lady was at home. Prince Charles took his post upon a hill near the house. i Flora Macdonald waited on lady Margaret,' and acquainted her of the enter } prise in which she was engaged. Her ladyship, whose active benevolence was ever seconded by superior talents, showed a perfect presence of mind and Freadiness of invention, and at once settled that Prince Charles should be con ducted to old Rasay, who was himself concealed with some select friends. The plan was instantly communicated to Kingsburgh, who was dispatched the hill to inform the wanderer, and carry him refreshments. When KingsJurgh approached, he started up, and advanced, holding a large knotted stick, in appearance ready to knock him down, till he said, "I am Macdonald of Kingsburgh, come to serve your Highness." The wanderer answered, well," and was satisfied with the plan. anu 1 ་ "It is Flora Macdonald dined with Lady Margaret, at whose table there sat an officer of the arıty, stationed here with a party of soldiers to watch for Prince Charles in case of his flying to the Isle of Sky. She afterwards often laughed in good humour with this gentleman on her having so well deceived him. After dinner, Flora Macdonald on horseback, and her supposed maid, and Kingsburgh, with a serva `nt carrying some linen, all on foot, proceeded towards that gentleman's house. Upon the road was a small rivulet which they were obliged to cross. The wanderer, forgetting his assumed sex, that his clothes might not be wet, held them up a great deal too high. Kingsburgh mentioned this to him, observing, it might n take a discovery. He said he would be more careful for the future. He was as rood as his word; for the next brook they crossed, he did not hold up his clothes at all, but let them float upon He was very awkward in his fe male dress. His size was so large, and his strides so great, that some women whom they met reported that they had seen a very big woman, who looked like a man in women's clothes, and that perhaps it was (as they expressed themselves) the Prince, after whom so much search was making. water. 1 Though her husband took arms for the house of Hanover, she was suspected of being a ardent Jacobite; and, on that supposition, Flora Macdonald guided the Pretender to Mag shot.-C. On the subject of Lady Margaret Macdonald, it is impossible to omit an anecdote which does much honour to Frederick, Prince of Wales. By son'e chance Lady Margaret had been presented to the princess, who, when she learned what share she had taken in the Che valior's escape, hastened to excuse herself to the prince, and explain to him that she was not aware that Lady Margaret was the person who had harboured the fugitive. The prince' answer was noble: "And would you not have done the same, madam, had he come to you ashes in Vistress and danger? I hope I am sure you would !"—WALTER SCOTT. At Kingsburgh he met with a most cordial reception; seemed gay at supper and after it indulged himself in a cheerful glass with his worthy host. As he had not had his clothes off for a long time, the comfort of a good bed was highly relished by him, and he slept soundly till next day at one o'clock. The mistress of Corrichatachin told me that in the forenoon she went intc her father's room, who was also in bed, and suggested to him her apprehensions that a party of the military might come up, and that his guest and he had better not remain here too long. Her father said, "Let the poor man repose himself after his fatigues! and as for me, I care not, though they take off this old grey head ten or eleven years sooner than I should die in the course of nature." He then wrapped himself in the bed-clothes, and again fell fast asleep. On the afternoon of that day, the wanderer, still in the same dress, set out for Portree, with Flora Macdonald and a man-servant. His shoes being very bad, Kingsburgh provided him with a new pair, and taking up the old ones, said, “I will faithfully keep them till you are safely settled in St. James's. I will then introduce myself by shaking them at you, to put you in mind of your night's entertainment and protection under my roof." He smiled, and said, "Be as good as your word!" Kingsburgh kept the shoes as long as he lived. After his death, a zealous Jacobite gentleman gave twenty guineas for them. Old Mrs. Macdonald, after her guest had left the house, took the sheets in which he had lain, folded them carefully, and charged her daughter that they should be kept unwashed, and that, when she died, her body should be wrapped in them as a winding sheet. Her will was religiously observed. Upon the road to Portree, Prince Charles changed his dress and put on man's clothes again; a tartan short coat and waistcoat, with philibeg and short hose, a plaid, and a wig and bonnet. Mr. Donald McDonald, called Donald Roy, had been sent express to the present laird, who was at that time at his sister's house, about three miles from Portree, attending his brother, Dr. Macleod, who was recovering of a wound he had received at the battle of Culloden. Mr. McDonald communicated to young Rasay the plan of conveying the wanderer to where old Rasay was; but was told that old Rasay had fled to Knoidart, a part of Glengarry's estate. There was then a dilemma what should be done. Donald Roy proposed that he should conduct the wanderer to the main land; but young Rasay thought it too dangerous at that time, and said it would be better to conceal him in the island of Rasay, till old Rasay could be informed where he was, and give his advice what was best. But the difficulty was, how to get him to Rasay. They could not trust a Portree crew, and all the Rasay boats had been destroyed, or carried off by the military, except two belonging to Malcolm M'Leod, which he had concealed somewhere. Dr. Macleod being informed of this difficulty, said he would risk his life once more for Prince Charles; and it having occurred, that there was a little |