Finesse, Duplicity and the False Assurance of Friendship
From Escape from Culloden
by The Chevalier de Johnstone
When daylight began to appear, I dismounted and offered my horse to Samuel as a present. I was no longer able to keep him as I needed to cross the first arm of the sea, from which we were now about four miles distant. Samuel refused to accept, however, saying that if his neighbours saw him in possession of a fine horse, they would immediately suspect that he had received it from some rebel he had assisted to escape; they would immediately inform against him, and he would in consequence be prosecuted. The horse would be the evidence against him, and he would inevitably be sentenced to be hanged.
I removed the saddle and bridle, which we threw into a draw-well, and we then drove the horse into a field some distance from the road, so that those who found him might take him for a stray. We had great difficulty in getting rid of this animal, for he followed us for some time, like a dog.
We had not walked a quarter of an hour after giving liberty to my horse when we fell in with a friend of Samuel, who questioned him a great deal as to where he was heading, the nature of his business, and who I was. Samuel answered without the least hesitation, which pleasantly surprised me after the adventure of the dog at Forfar: ‘I’m going to bring home a calf I left to winter in the Lowlands last autumn,’ he said. ‘I’m taking this young man with me out of charity, as he was without bread and he serves me for his victuals. I intend sending him back with the calf, whilst I myself go to Dundee to buy a cow with which to support my family during the summer.’
As there happened to be an alehouse nearby, the two friends agreed to have a bottle of beer together, and I was obliged to accompany them. I showed such respect for my newfound master that I did not venture to sit down beside him until he invited me. The friend of Samuel pressed me to partake of their small beer, which looked for all the world like physic, but Samuel excused me, extolling so much my sobriety and good character that his friend incessantly showed me a thousand little attentions, expressing the wish, from time to time, to find a lad like me on the same terms. I thought I perceived in him a secret desire to entice me from Samuel’s service.
After they had swallowed a considerable quantity of beer, they left the alehouse and, to my great pleasure, parted, for not only was I frequently very embarrassed at having to play the part Samuel had assigned me, I was also sick and tired of their mundane jargon. This man had scarcely left us when Samuel whispered in my ear that he was one of the greatest knaves and cheats in this part of the country, famous for his villainy; that if he had found out who I was, he would undoubtedly have betrayed me; and that the mere wish to obtain possession of my watch and purse would have been a sufficient inducement for him to have reported my presence to the authorities, and thus sent me to the gallows.
I was the more astonished at what Samuel told me as, from their conversation, which was full of assurances of mutual esteem, I had had no doubt in my mind that they entertained for each other the most sincere friendship. Having gained this insight, I greatly praised my new master for his prudence and discretion on this occasion.
Artifice, hypocrisy, and the art of deceiving, which have very improperly been called policy, are commonly supposed to be found only in the courts of princes – the only schools for learning falsehood and dissimulation. But I saw as much finesse and duplicity in the false assurance of friendship and the compliments of these two peasants while they were drinking their beer, and I was as completely duped in this case, as I later was in a conversation at which I happened to be present between two noblemen of the first rank.
One of these was my particular friend, and the other an ambassador at a court where he had promised, and where he had had it in his power if he had been so inclined, to be of essential service to my friend, then outlawed and exiled from his native country. These two personages embraced each other with an air of cordiality, said a thousand flattering things to each other, and repeatedly expressed the strongest assurances of mutual friendship; but the moment the ambassador terminated his visit and took his departure, my friend informed me that they cordially detested each other. When I reproached him with having acted a part unworthy of a man of honour and a gentleman, he replied that he had only wished to pay the ambassador in his own coin.
Nevertheless, the pantomime of these two lords – Lord Ogilvie, later the Earl of Airly, and the Duke de Mirepoix, then ambassador at the court of London – would have deceived me less, from the opinion generally entertained of the duplicity of courtiers, than that which was acted out by these two peasants.
Verfyndheid, Geveinsdheid en die Bedrieglike Versekering van Vriendskap
Uit Escape from Culloden
deur Die Chevalier de Johnstone
Met die aanbreek van die daeraad, het ek afgeklim en my perd as ’n geskenk aan Samuel aangebied. Dit sou nie vir my moontlik wees om hom langer te hou nie, want ek moes nog oor die eerste bog van die see kom wat toe omtrent vier myl daarvandaan was. Samuel het egter geweier om die dier te aanvaar, want, het hy gesê, as sy bure so ’n pragtige perd in sy besit sien, sou hulle dadelik vermoed dat hy dit van een of ander rebel wat hy gehelp het om te ontsnap, ontvang het. Hulle kon hom dan dadelik gaan verklap en hy sou vervolg word. Die perd kon as getuienis teen hom gebruik word, en uiteindelik sou hy, vir seker, gevonnis en opgehang word.
Ek het die saal en toom verwyder en in ’n waterput gegooi. Daarna het ons die perd ’n entjie van die pad af die veld ingejaag. Enigeen wat hom raaksien, sou dink dat dit sommer ’n losloperperd was. Ons het egter groot moeite gehad om van die dier ontslae te raak, want hy het vir ’n hele ruk net soos ’n hond agter ons aangeloop.
Dit was nie langer as ’n kwartier nadat ons die perd vrygelaat het dat ons ’n ou vriend van Samuel raakgeloop het. Dié wou in detail weet waarheen hy oppad was, wat hy besig was om te doen, en wie ek was. Samuel het sonder om te aarsel sy vrae beantwoord. Ná die avontuur met die hond by Forfar, was dit vir my ’n aangename verrassing: “Ek gaan,” het hy gesê, “om ’n kalf huis toe te bring wat ek verlede herfs in die Laaglande gelaat het om daar te oorwinter. Uit groothartigheid neem ek hierdie jong kêrel saam met my, want hy was honger en sonder ’n heenkome, en nou werk hy vir my vir sy kos. My plan is om hom met die kalf terug te stuur terwyl ek Dundee toe gaan om ’n koei te gaan koop waarmee ek my familie gedurende die somer kan onderhou.”
Dit het so gebeur dat daar ’n taphuis naby was, en die twee vriende het besluit om saam ’n bier te gaan drink. Ek was genoodsaak om saam te gaan. Ek het my nuutgevonde meester soveel respek betoon dat ek dit nie gewaag het om saam met hulle te gaan sit nie totdat hy my uitgenooi het. Samuel se vriend het daarop aangedring dat ek ’n biertjie – wat waarlik soos medisyne gelyk het – saam met hulle moes geniet. Samuel het darem verskoning vir my gemaak en my deugde van soberheid en my goeie karakter so besing dat sy vriend my die hele tyd baie aandag gegee het en my besonder vriendelik behandel het. Hy het elke nou en dan die wens uitgespreek om iemand soos ek vir homself te probeer kry. Ek het gedink dat ek kon sien dat hy heimlik begeer het om my uit Samuel se diens weg te lok.
Nadat hulle ’n hele paar biere weggeslaan het, het hulle die plek verlaat, en tot my groot blydskap het hulle toe van mekaar afskeid geneem. Want nie net was ek herhaaldelik in verleentheid gebring deurdat ek die rol moes speel wat Samuel my toegewys het nie, maar ek was ook siek en sat vir hulle banale geselskap. Dié man was skaars weg toe Samuel in my oor gefluister het dat hy een van die grootste skobbejakke en verneukers in hierdie deel van die land was. Hy was ’n berugte skurk en sou hy uitgevind het wie ek was, sou hy sonder twyfel my verraai het. Slegs die verwagting om my horlosie en beursie in die hande te kon kry, sou vir hom voldoende beweegrede wees om my teenwoordigheid aan die owerhede te rapporteer, en so sou die galgtou my voorland gewees het.
Wat Samuel my toe vertel het, het my totaal verstom, want uit hulle geselskap, wat vol gerusstellings van wedersydse respek was, het ek afgelei dat daar ongetwyfeld tussen dié twee opregte vriendskap was. Met dié nuwe insig, het ek my nuwe meester geprys vir sy waaksaamheid en skerpsinnigheid.
Listigheid, skynheiligheid en die kuns om te mislei – wat dilwels heel verkeerdelik na verwys is as beleid – is volgens algemene veronderstelling gewoonlik net in die howe van prinse te vinde – die enigste skole waar bedrog en huigelary geleer kan word. Maar ek het soveel verdoeseling en geveinsdheid tussen dié twee kleinboere gesien terwyl hulle bier gedrink het en mekaar gekomplimenteer en verseker het van wedersydse vriendskap, dat ek heeltemal geflous was.
Later het so iets ook gebeur in ’n gesprek tussen twee vooraanstaande edelmanne waarby ek teenwoordig was. Een van hulle was ’n goeie vriend van my en die ander een ’n ambassadeur by ’n hof. Hy het die outoriteit gehad en het belowe om van waardevolle diens vir my vriend te wees – wat toe as ’n misdadiger in sy eie land, en dus ’n banneling, beskou was. Hierdie twee mense het mekaar hartlik omhels en ’n duisend vleiende dinge aan mekaar gesê, en herhaaldelik aan mekaar die mooiste versekering van vriendskap belowe. Die oomblik egter toe die ambassadeur totsiens gesê en vertrek het, het my vriend my vertel dat hulle mekaar eintlik waarlik verfoei het. Toe ek hom beskuldig het dat hy, wat ’n eerbare man en ’n heer is, onwaardig opgetree het, het hy geantwoord dat hy die ambassadeur slegs in sy eie munt wou terugbetaal.
Nietemin, die pantomime van die twee lords – lord Ogilvie, later die graaf van Airly, en die hertog De Mirepoix, toe die ambassadeur aan die Londonse hof – sou my minder geflous het, weens die algemene mening oor die dubbelhartigheid van howelinge, as wat deur dié twee kleinboere uitgebeeld is.
I Dreamed a Dream
From Escape from Culloden
by The Chevalier de Johnstone
As there was no longer any safety for us in Glen-Prossen on account of the detachments with which we were continually being surrounded, we unanimously agreed to quit Samuel’s at three o’clock the next morning. Our plan was to return to the Highlands and to fix our abode, for the time being, among the rocks. As a result of this decision, we went to bed at eight o’clock in the evening in order to lay in a stock of sleep before our departure, as we had no hope of sleeping under a roof for some time to come.
I have never been in the habit of giving credence to stories of supernatural intervention, which seem to abound in every country and with which men are deceived from their infancy. Such stories are generally the creations of overheated imaginations, of superstitious old women, or of disordered intellects. That night, however, I had so extraordinary and so incomprehensible a dream that if any other person had related it to me, I should have treated him as a visionary. However, it was later verified to the letter, and I owe my life to the circumstance of my having been so struck with it, incredulous as I was, that I could not resist the impression it left on my mind. I dreamed that, having escaped the pursuits of my enemies and being at the end of all my troubles and sufferings, I happened to be in Edinburgh in the company of Lady Jane Douglas, sister of the Earl of Douglas. I was relating to her everything that had occurred to me since the battle of Culloden, detailing all that had taken place in our army since our retreat from Stirling, including the dangers to which I had been personally exposed in endeavouring to escape death on the scaffold.
When I awoke at six o’clock in the morning, this dream had left so strong an impression on my mind that I thought I still heard the soft voice of Lady Jane Douglas in my ears. All my senses were lulled into a state of profound calm, while I felt at the same time a serenity of soul and tranquillity of mind to which I had been a total stranger since the advent of our misfortunes. I remained in my bed, absent and buried in all manner of reflections, my head leaning on my hand and my elbow supported on my pillow, recalling all the circumstances of my dream and regretting very much that it was only a dream, but wishing to have such dreams frequently, to calm the storms and agitations that devoured my soul owing to the uncertainty of my fate. In the certainty of an inevitable punishment, one can at least resolve to face it with courage and resignation, but what situation is crueller than continual oscillation between hope and despair, a thousand times worse than death itself?
I had passed an hour in this attitude, motionless as a statue, when Samuel entered to tell me that my companions had left at three o’clock in the morning, and to tell me where in the mountains I would find them. He added that he had been twice at my bedside to awaken me before their departure but, seeing me fast asleep, could not find it in his heart to disturb me, convinced as he was of my need to rest before the fatigues I must undergo in the mountains. He advised me to rise without delay, as it was time to depart and his daughter, who would think we had all left, might not be as diligent about signalling the arrival of detachments.
I answered in a composed and serious tone: ‘Samuel, I’m going to Edinburgh.’
Poor Samuel stared at me with a foolish and astonished air, and exclaimed: ‘Excuse me, my good sir, but are you right in the head?’
‘Yes,’ I replied, ‘my head is perfectly sound. I’m going to Edinburgh, and I leave this evening. Go and tell your daughter I’m still here, and that she must continue her usual watch and let me know if any troops arrive in Cortachie during the course of the day.’
Samuel began to tire me with his remonstrances, so I imposed silence by telling him, once and for all, that I had made up my mind, and that it was pointless to raise the subject again.
Ek het’n Droom Gedroom
Uit Escape from Culloden
deur Die Chevalier de Johnstone
Omdat dit vir ons onveilig geraak het in Glen-Prossen deurdat die troepe ons onophoudelik oral probeer vastrek het, het ons eenparig besluit om Samuel die volgende oggend om drie-uur vaarwel toe te roep. Ons was van plan om terug te keer Hooglande toe en om ons verblyfplek, vereers daar tussen die rotse, te vestig. As gevolg van dié besluit, het ons daardie aand agtuur in die bed geklim sodat ons genoeg slaap kon inkry voor ons vertrek. Vir ’n hele ruk sou daar geen vooruitsig wees om onder ’n dak te kan slaap nie.
Ek het nooit die gewoonte gehad om stories van bonatuurlike ingryping te glo nie. Dis dié soort ding waarmee mens van kleintyd af mislei is. Sulke stories is gewoonlik die skeppings van oorverhitte verbeeldings, of van bygelowige ou vrouens, of van verwarde slimkoppe. Daardie nag het ek egter ’n buitengewone en onverstaanbare droom gehad. As enige ander persoon dit aan my vertel het, sou ek hom as ’n heldersiende beskou het. Die droom is egter tot in die kleinste besonderhede bewaarheid, en dat ek nog lewe is aan die omstandighede van dié droom te danke. Al was ek hoe skepties, kon ek nie die indruk wat dit op my gees gemaak het, weerstaan nie. Ek het gedroom dat, na ek die agtervolgings van my vyande afgeskud het, al my probleme en lyding tot ’n einde gekom het. Dit het so gekom dat ek in die geselskap was van lady Jane Douglas, die sister van die graaf van Douglas. Ek het alles aan haar vertel wat sedert die slag van Culloden met my gebeur het – tot in die fynste besonderhede wat in ons leër gebeur het sedert ons die aftog by Sterling geblaas het, sowel as die gevare waaraan ek persoonlik blootgestel was in my pogings om ’n valbyldood vry te spring.
Toe ek dié oggend om sesuur wakker geword het, het hierdie droom só ’n indruk op my gemoed gemaak dat ek gedink het dat ek nog die sagte stem van lady Jane Douglas in my ore kon hoor. Al my sintuie was gesus tot ’n staat van onpeilbare kalmte, terwyl ek terselfdertyd ’n gevoel van rustigheid en kalmte van gees ervaar het. Dit was vir my ’n totale vreemde gewaarwording ná my teenspoed. Met my kop wat op my hand gerus het en die kussing wat my elmboog ondersteun het, het ek al die omstandighede van my droom herroep. Ek was baie spyt dat dit slegs ’n droom was, maar het tog gewens dat ek sulke drome meer dikwels kon hê om die storms en beroeringe wat my siel so ontstel het, te wyte aan die onsekerhede wat die lot vir my inhou, te kalmeer. As mens weet dat die straf onafwendbaar is, kan jy ten minste besluit om dit met moed en berusting te trotseer. Maar watter situasie is wreder as ’n voortdurende wisseling tussen hoop en wanhoop? Dis ’n duisend keer erger as die dood vanself.
’n Uur het op die manier verbygegaan met my bewegingloos soos ’n standbeeld, toe Samuel binnegekom het en my vertel het dat my kamerade drie-uur daardie oggend reeds vertrek het, en dat hy my moes vertel waar ek hulle in die berge kon kry. Hy het verder gesê dat hy al twee keer voor hulle vertrek het, langs my bed was om my wakker te maak, maar toe hy sien hoe vas ek slaap, kon hy dit nie oor sy hart kry om my te steur nie, want hy was oortuig daarvan dat ek rus nodig gehad het voor die swarigheid wat in die berge op my gewag het. Hy het my aangeraai om dadelik op te staan aangesien dit tyd was om te vertrek – sy dogter, wat onder die indruk verkeer het dat ons almal vertrek het, sou dalk nie so op en wakker wees om die aankoms van vyandelike afdelings oor te sein nie.
Ek het ewe bedaard en ernstig aangekondig: “Samuel, ek gaan Edinburgh toe.”
Arme Samuel het my beteuterd en verbaas aangegaap en uitgeroep: “Verskoon my, my liewe meneer, maar kap jou kop nie so bietjie aan nie?”
“Daar is niks met my kop verkeerd nie,” het ek geantwoord. “Ek gaan Edinburgh toe en ek vertrek vanaand. Gaan vertel jou dogter dat ek nog steeds hier is, en dat sy soos gewoonlik moet wagstaan en my laat weet as daar gedurende die verloop van die dag troepe uit Cortachie aan die kom is.”
Samuel se vermaninge het my moeg begin gemaak. Ek het hom dus stilgemaak deur hom te vertel dat ek vir eens en altyd tot ’n besluit gekom het, en dat dit sinneloos was om verder daaroor te praat.
A Body of Brave and Determined Men
by The Chevalier de Johnstone
On occasions when everything is to be feared, we ought to lay aside fear; when we are surrounded with dangers, no danger ought to alarm us. With the best plans we may fail in our enterprises, but the firmness we display in misfortune is the noblest ornament of virtue. This is the manner in which a Prince who, with an unexampled rashness, had landed in Scotland with only seven men, ought to have conducted himself.
We were masters of the passes between Ruthven and Inverness, which gave us sufficient time to assemble our adherents. The clan of Macpherson of Clunie, consisting of five hundred very brave men, besides many other Highlanders who had not been able to reach Inverness before the battle, joined us at Ruthven. Our numbers increased at every moment, and I am thoroughly convinced that, in the course of eight days, we should have had a more powerful army than ever, capable of re-establishing without delay the state of our affairs, and of avenging the barbarous cruelties of the Duke of Cumberland. But the Prince was inexorable and immoveable in his resolution to abandon his enterprise, and to terminate, in this inglorious manner, an expedition the rapid progress of which had fixed the attention of all Europe.
Our separation at Ruthven was truly affecting. We bade one another an eternal adieu. No one could say whether the scaffold would not be his fate. The Highlanders gave vent to their grief in wild howlings and lamentations. The tears flowed down their cheeks when they thought that their country was now at the discretion of the Duke of Cumberland, and on the point of being plundered, whilst they and their children would be reduced to slavery and plunged, without resource, into a state of remediless distress.
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Thus did Prince Charles begin his enterprise with seven men and abandon it at a moment when he might have been at the head of as many thousands. He preferred to wander up and down the mountains alone, exposed every instant to being taken and put to death by detachments of English troops sent by the Duke of Cumberland to pursue him. The troops followed him closely, often passing nearby, but he evaded them as if by miracle. He declined to place himself at the head of a body of brave and determined men, of whose fidelity and attachment he was secure and all of whom would have shed the last drop of their blood in his defence. Indeed, this was now their only means of saving themselves from the scaffold, and their families from slaughter by a furious, enraged, barbarous soldiery.
The Highlands are full of precipices and passes through mountains, where only one person at a time can proceed and where a thousand men can defend themselves for years against a hundred thousand. As it abounds with horned cattle, of which above a hundred thousand are yearly sold to the English, provisions would not have been wanting. But it would only have been necessary to adopt this partisan warfare as a last resource, for I am morally certain that in the course of ten or twelve days we could have been in a position to return to Inverness and do battle with the Duke of Cumberland on equal terms. When I reflect on this subject, I am always astonished that Lord George Murray and the other clan chiefs did not resolve to carry on this mountain warfare themselves, in their own defence, as nothing can be more certain than what was once said by a celebrated author, namely that in revolt: ‘when we draw the sword, we ought to throw away the scabbard’. There is no half-measure. We must conquer or die. This would have spared much of the blood that was afterwards shed on the scaffold in England, and it would have prevented the almost total extermination of the race of Highlanders that has since taken place, whether from the policy of the English government, the emigration of their families to the colonies, or the numerous Highland regiments raised and cut to pieces during the Seven Years War (1756-1763).
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At length the Prince embarked, on the 17th of September 1746, having escaped death a thousand times during the space of five months, and having exposed himself to a thousand times more danger than he would have done if he had acted with courage and perseverance, leading his faithful Highlanders for as long as he could hope to make headway against the English. He should only have resorted to skulking and running about the Highlands without attendants as a last resort, after the passes had been forced and all possibility of opposing the enemy had been destroyed.
But our situation was not desperate. All we can say is that this Prince had embarked on his expedition rashly and without foreseeing the personal dangers to which he was about to expose himself; that in conducting it he had always taken care not to expose his person to the fire of the enemy; and that he abandoned it at a time when he had a thousand times more reason to hope for success than when he had left Paris to undertake it.
The battle of Culloden was lost on the 16th of April 1746 due to a series of blunders on our part rather than by virtue of any skilful manoeuvre on the part of the Duke of Cumberland. By terminating the expedition of Prince Charles, this loss prepared a scene of unparalleled horrors for his partisans and precipitated the ruin of many of the most illustrious families in Scotland. The scaffolds of England were, for a long time, daily deluged with the blood of Scottish gentlemen and peers, whose execution served as a spectacle for the amusement of the English populace, naturally of a cruel and barbarous disposition, whilst the confiscation of their estates reduced their families to beggary. Those who had the good luck to make their escape into foreign countries were consoled for the loss of their property by escaping a tragic death by the hands of the executioner.
’n Leër Dapper en Vasberade Manne
Uit Escape from Culloden
deur Die Chevalier de Johnstone
By geleenthede waar alles jou met angs vervul, behoort vrees opsy gesit te word. Wanneer ons omring word deur gevare, behoort geen onheil ons te pla nie. Ten spyte van ons beste beplanning mag ons ondernemings te kort skiet, maar die standvastigheid wat ons in teëspoed aan die dag lê, is die edelmoedigste sieraad van deugsaamheid. Dít is die wyse waarop ’n weergalose voortvarende prins met slegs sewe manne homself behoort te gedra het, toe hy voet aan wal in Skotland gesit het.
Ons was in beheer van die passe tussen Ruthven en Inverness. Dit het ons genoeg tyd gegee om ons volgelinge bymekaar te kon kry. Die Macpherson van Clunie-clan, wat uit vyfhonderd besonder dapper manne bestaan het, sowel as ander Hooglanders wat nie daarin geslaag het om Inverness voor die veldslag te bereik nie, het by ons by Ruthven aangesluit. Ons getalle het elke oomblik aangegroei en ek was vas oortuig daarvan dat in die bestek van agt dae, ons ’n magtiger leër as ooit tevore sou kon hê. ’n Mag wat in staat sou gewees het om die stand van sake reg te stel en om wraak te neem op die barbaarse wreedhede van die hertog van Cumberland. Maar die prins was hartvogtig en vasberade in sy besluit om van sy onderneming af te sien, en om dit op ’n roemlose wyse prys te gee. En dit terwyl die aandag van die hele Europa op die snelle vordering van hierdie krygstog gevestig was.
Ons skeiding by Ruthven was waarlik hartverskeurend. Ons het mekaar ’n ewigdurende vaarwel toegeroep. Niemand kon weet of die skavot sy lot sou wees nie. Met hartroerende en smartlike geweeklaag het die Hooglanders uiting gegee aan hulle verdriet. Trane het by hulle wange afgeloop toe hulle daaraan gedink het dat hulle land daarná aan die diskresie van die hertog van Cumberland oorgelaat is; en dat dit op die punt was om geplunder te word terwyl hulle en hulle kinders niks anders as slawe sou wees nie, sonder enige toevlug in ’n staat van onomkeerbare ellende.
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Só het prins Charles sy onderneming met sewe manne begin, en toe daarvan afgesien op ’n tydstip toe hy as leier aan die hoof van seweduisend kon gestaan het. Hy het verkies om stoksielalleen in die berge rond te dwaal, die hele tyd blootgestel aan Engelse troepe, wat deur die hertog van Cumberland uitgestuur is om hom te agtervolg, te vang, en tereg te stel. Die troepe was kort op sy hakke; soms het hulle baie naby hom verbygegaan, maar hy het hulle wonderbaarlik ontwyk. Hy het geweier om die leier van ’n leër dapper en vasberade manne te word. Hulle lojaliteit en geneentheid was bo enige twyfel en hulle almal sou hulle laaste druppel bloed stort om hom te beskerm. Dit was inderdaad toe hulle enigste manier om die skavot vry te spring, en om hulle families te red van die bose en barbaarse soldate.
Die Hooglande is vol kranse en passe deur die berge, waar slegs een persoon op ’n slag deur kan gaan. ’n Duisend manne sou vir jare hulself teen ’n honderdduisend kon verdedig. Groot getalle beeste het daar floreer en ’n honderdduisend van hulle was jaarliks aan die Engelse verkoop, dus sou daar geen tekort aan kos gewees het nie. Maar dit sou net as ’n laaste toevlug nodig gewees het om ’n guerrilla-oorlog te voer, want ek was moreel oortuig daarvan dat in die bestek van tien of twaalf dae ons in ’n posisie sou gewees het om terug te keer na Inverness toe om daar teen die hertog van Cumberland op gelyke voet te kon veg. Wanneer ek terugdink aan dié gebeurtenisse, is ek altyd verstom dat lord George Murray en die ander clan-hoofmanne nie besluit het nie om hulle alleen in hierdie soort guerrilla-oorlog in die berge, sonder hulp te verweer. Want soos ’n bekende skrywer eens gesê het: “Wanneer die swaard getrek word, behoort die skede weggegooi te word”. Daar kan geen kompromis wees nie. Dis oorwin of sterf. Dit sou verhoed het dat baie bloed later by die skavot in Engeland sou vloei. En dit sou die amper totale uitwissing van die Hooglanders wat sederdien plaasgevind het, verhinder het. Dit het gebeur óf deur die beleid van die Engelse regering, óf deur die emigrasie van hulle families na die kolonies toe, óf as gevolg van die talle Hoogland-regimente wat afgemaai is gedurende die Sewejarige Oorlog (1756-1763).
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Uiteindelik het die prins op 17 September 1746 per skip vertrek nadat hy, in die verloop van vyf maande, seker ’n duisend keer meer aan die dood blootgestel was as wat die geval sou gewees het as hy moedig en met volharding opgetree het en sy getroue Hooglanders gelei het vir so lank as wat hy vordering teen die Engelse kon maak. Ná die passe met geweld oorgeneem is en geen moontlikheid oorgebly het om die vyand die hoof te bied nie, kon hy net as ’n laaste uitweg sy toevlug geneem het deur weg te kruip en om sonder lyfwagte in die Hooglande rond te dwaal.
Maar ons situasie was nie wanhopig nie. Al wat ons kan sê is dat die prins sy ekspedisie roekeloos aangepak het en sonder om vooraf bewus te wees van die persoonlike gevare waaraan hy homself sou blootstel. Hy het gesorg dat hy homself nie aan die vyand se vuur blootgestel het nie. En hy het daarvan afgesien toe hy ’n duisend meer redes gehad het om sukses met sy onderneming te kon behaal as toe hy Parys verlaat het om dit aan te pak.
Die nederlaag by die Culloden-veldslag wat op 16 April 1746 plaasgevind het, was as gevolg van ’n reeks dom foute wat ons begaan het, en nie omdat die hertog van Cumberland ’n bekwame generaal was nie. Die verlies as gevolg van die beëindiging van prins Charles se onderneming, het die toneel voorberei vir ongeëwenaarde gruwels vir sy partisans en het die verwoesting van baie van die mees hoogadellike Skotse families veroorsaak. By die Engelse skavotte was daar vir ’n lang ruk daagliks ’n stortvloed bloed van Skotse here en edelmanne. Hulle teregstellings het as ’n skouspel gedien om die Engelse gepeupel wat van nature ’n wrede en barbaarse ingesteldheid gehad het, te vermaak. Die inbesitneming van die Hooglanders se landgoed het hulle families tot bedelaars verneder. Dié van hulle wat gelukkig genoeg was om na oorsese lande te kon ontsnap, se vertroosting en beloning vir die verlies van hulle eiendom was dat hulle ’n tragiese dood aan die hand van die laksman vrygespring het.
A Final Prayer
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From Commando – Of Horses and Men
by Deneys Reitz
A week before a Colonial named Lemuel Colaine had turned up amongst them with a tale that the English had put him in prison at Clanwilliam on a false charge of high treason. He said that he had escaped over the wall one night, and had come in revenge to take up arms. Believing his story, they gave him a rifle and he joined the commando.
Colaine, however, was a spy in British pay, and, after collecting what information he could, he had disappeared. No particular notice was taken of his absence, as the men were constantly riding off to visit farms or look up friends at distant outposts, and it was thought that he had done the same. But the commando had a rude awakening when a body of English horse, with Colaine riding at their head, fell upon them at dawn, killing and wounding seventeen men, including my young friend Michael du Preez.
The attacking force took our men so completely by surprise that the troopers rode through the camp using their swords, and got away safely to the other side before our men could recover their wits. All were fierce in their denunciation of Colaine’s treachery, and hoped that he would fall into their hands. And later Nemesis ran the right man to earth for once.
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As we went through the rooms, strewn with upturned chairs, etc, in the hand-to-hand fighting, we saw a man in civilian clothing crouched under the arched fireplace in the kitchen. I thought it was the owner of the farm, not yet recovered from his fright, but when I drew Wyndell’s attention to him, he exclaimed, ‘By God! It’s Colaine!’ I did not know Colaine, but Wyndell dragged him from the house, shouting to the men outside to come and see who was here, and soon dozens of angry men were muttering threats and curses at the wretched spy.
He was a man of about forty-five, in appearance a typical backveld Boer, with flowing beard and corduroys. He was brave enough now, for when the men fiercely assured him of his certain fate, he shrugged his shoulders and showed no sign of fear. Commandant Bouwer came up while we were crowding round, and ordered two men to guard him until General Smuts was notified.
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When I entered the homestead at Aties, General Smuts was in the diningroom talking to the owner, Isaac van Zijl, whose wife and daughters were there too, and before long Colaine, the spy, was ushered in by his guards, who wanted to know what to do with their prisoner. General Smuts had heard the whole story of Colaine’s treachery, and, after questioning the escort to make sure of the man’s identity, he sentenced him to death without further formality. When the General said to the guards: ‘Take him outside and shoot him,’ Colaine’s nerve failed him and, falling on his knees, he begged for mercy, while the women fled the room in tears. General Smuts repeated his order but, as the condemned man was being led out, the Reverend Mr Kriel came in and asked leave to pray for the soul of this poor sinner. So Colaine was taken to a little smithy behind the dwelling-house, and, when I looked in a little later, I saw him and the clergyman kneeling side by side against a plough-tail, deep in prayer.
After a while Andries de Wet of our staff was told to collect a firing party, and, as he disliked the job, he asked me to accompany him. We sent some farm servants to dig a grave out of sight of the house, to spare the feelings of its inmates, and, ordering three men who were off-saddled in the garden to fetch their rifles, we went to the workshop door. Catching Mr Kriel’s eye, De Wet pointed to the prisoner, and the clergyman touched the kneeling man on the shoulder and said: ‘Brother, be a man, your time has come.’
Colaine took the news calmly. He rose from his knees, shook the parson by the hand and, bidding goodbye to the guards, said that he was ready. We led him to where the grave was being dug. On the way he spoke to us. He said he knew he deserved to die, but he was a poor man, and had taken blood-money to keep his wife and children from starving.
The farm servants were just completing the grave when we came up, and the unfortunate man blanched when he looked into the shallow pit. Perhaps he had still hoped for a reprieve, until he saw it. Even now he tried to gain time, appealing to us to send for Mr Kriel to say a final prayer with him. Then he turned to me and asked me to fetch General Smuts, but we felt that the sooner it was over the better, so De Wet blindfolded him and placed him at the head of the grave.
Realising that this was the end, Colaine held up his hands and, in a low tone, recited the Lord’s Prayer while the firing party silently ranged themselves. As he came to the final ‘Amen’, they fired. With a convulsive jerk he pitched backward into the grave, and the frightened servants quickly covered him with earth.
