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France, he embarked for Scotland on board a small frigate, accompanied by the Marquis Tullibardine, and a few other desperate adventurers. For the conquest of the whole British empire, he brought with him seven officers, and arms for 2000 men. He landed on the coast of Lochabar, July 27, and was in a little time joined by some Highland chiefs, and their vassals. He soon saw himself at the head of 1500 men, and invited others to join him by manifestoes, which were dispersed throughout all the highlands. The English ministry was no sooner informed of the truth of his arrival, than Sir John Cope was ordered to oppose his progress. In the mean time, the young adventurer marched to Perth, where his father, the chevalier de St. George, had been proclaimed king of Great Britain. The rebel army advanced towards Edinburgh, which they entered without opposition. Here, too the pageantry of proclamation was performed. But, though he was master of the capital, yet the citadel or castle, with a good garrison, under the command of General Guest, braved all his attempts. Sir John Cope, who was now reinforced by two regiments of dragoons, resolved to march towards Edinburgh, and give him battle The young adventurer attacked him near Preston Pans, and in a few minutes totally routed him and his troops. In this victory the king lost about 500 men, and the rebel not above 80.

In the mean time, the pretender went forward with vigour; and having advanced to Penrith, continued his irruption till he came to Manchester, where he established his head-quarters; from thence he prosecuted his route to Derby; but he determined once more to return to Scotland. He effected his retreat to Carlisle without any loss, and, having reinforced the garrison of the place, crossed the rivers Eden and Solway into Scotland.

After many attacks and skirmishes, the duke of Cumberland, son of George II, the reigning king, put himself at the head of the troops of Edinburgh, which consisted of about 14,000 men. He resolved to come to a battle as soon as posstble, and marched forward, while the

young adventurer retired at his approach. The duke advanced to Aberdeen, where he was joined by the duke of Gordon, and some other lords. The Highlanders were drawn up in order of battle, on the plain of Culloden, to the number of 8000 men. The duke marched thither, and the battle began about one o'clock in the afternoon, April 16. In less than thirty minutes, the rebels were totally routed, and the field was covered with their dead bodies. The duke immediately after the battle, ordered thirty-six deserters to be executed."

The adventure of Prince Charles Edward in his perilous undertaking, and his escape out of the British domi nions, form a most extraordinary romance of real life. The novel of Waverley gives some interesting sketches of this Prince's enterprize, and particularly of the generosity and devotedness of his adherents. The British government made a most severe example of the misguided men, who sacrificed themselves to their principles of loyalty, but so elevated were their motives that it is impossible not to deplore their fate. The principal chiefs engaged in this rebellion were executed at Carlisle, Culloden, and other places, and thousands of inferior condition were transported to foreign countries.

Lochiel, the chief of the warlike clan of the Camerons, engaged in this unhappy cause. "His memory is still cherished among the Highlanders, by the appellation of the gentle Lochiel, for he was famed for his social virtues as much as for his martial and magnanimous (though mistaken) loyalty."

Before Lochiel had led his followers to the standard of the Pretender, it is related that a Seer forewarned him of the catastrophe which awaited the rebels. This remonstrance is the foundation of Lochiel's Warning. The less informed of the Scots, from time immemorial, have cherished a belief in the gift of second sight-more properly first sight. The second sight, say those who believe in it, is an actual perception which the gifted person has of things absent and future, which he can afterwards describe to others, and which usually inti

mates some important event. Ellen, in the Lady of the Lake, tells the stranger Knight,

"Old Allan-bane foretold your plight,—

A gray-haired sire, whose eye intent,
Was on the visioned future bent."

LOCHIEL'S WARNING.

Wizard. Lochiel! Lochiel, beware of the day When the Lowlands shall meet thee in battle array ! For a field of the dead rushes red on my sight, And the clans of Culloden are scattered in fight : They rally, they bleed, for their kingdom and crown ; Wo, wo to the riders that trample them down! Proud Cumberland prances, insulting the slain, And their hoof-beaten bosoms are trod to the plain. But hark! through the fast-flashing lightning of war, What steed to the desert flies frantic and far? 'Tis thine, oh Glenullin! whose bride shall await, Like a love-lighted watchfire, all night at the gate. A steed comes at morning: no rider is there; But its bridle is red with the sign of despair. Weep, Albin! to death and captivity led! Oh weep! but thy tears cannot number the dead : For a merciless sword on Culloden shall wave, Culloden! that wreaks with the blood of the brave. Lochiel. Go, preach to the coward, thou death-telling seer!

Or, if gory Culloden so dreadful appear,

Draw, dotard, around thy old wavering sight
This mantle, to cover the phantoms of fright.

Wizard. Ha! laugh'st thou, Lochiel, my vision to scorn?

Proud bird of the mountain, thy plume shall be torn !
Say, rushed the bold eagle exultingly forth,

From his home, in the dark rolling clouds of the north?
Lo! the death-shot of foemen outspeeding, he rode
Companionless, bearing destruction abroad;

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But down let him stoop from his havoc on high!
Ah! home let him speed-for the spoiler is nigh.
Why flames the far summit? Why shoot to the blast
Those embers, like stars from the firmament cast?
'Tis the fire-shower of ruin all dreadfully driven
From his eyrie, that beacons the darkness of heaven.
Oh, crested Lochiel! the peerless in might,
Whose banners arise on the battlements' height,
Heaven's fire is around thee, to blast and to burn;
Return to thy dwelling! all lonely return!

For the blackness of ashes shall mark where it stood,
And a wild mother scream o'er her famishing brood.
Lochiel. False Wizard avaunt! I have marshalled my
clan :

Their swords are a thousand, their bosoms are one!
They are true to the last of their blood and their breath,
And like reapers descend to the harvest of death.

Then welcome be Cumberland's steed to the shock!
Let him dash his proud foam like a wave on the rock!
But wo to his kindred, and wo to his cause,
When Albin her claymore indignantly draws;
When her bonneted chieftains to victory crowd,
Clanmanald the dauntless, and Moray the proud;
All plaided and plumed in their tartan array-

Wizard. Lochiel, Lochiel, beware of the day!
For, dark and despairing, my sight I may seal,
But man cannot cover what God would reveal:
'Tis the sunset of life gives me mystical lore,
And coming events cast their shadows before.
I tell thee, Culloden's dread echoes shall ring
With the bloodhounds, that bark for thy fugitive king.
Lo! anointed by heaven with vials of wrath,

Behold, where he flies on his desolate path!

Now, in darkness and billows, he sweeps from my sight:
Rise! rise! ye wild tempests, and cover his flight!
'Tis finished. Their thunders are hushed on the moors
Culloden is lost, and my country deplores;

But where is the iron-bound prisoner? Where?
For the red eye of battle is shut in despair.

Say, mounts he the ocean-wave, banished, forlorn,
Like a limb from his country cast bleeding and torn?
Ah no! for a darker departure is near,

The war-drum is muffled, and black is the bier ;
His death-bell is tolling; oh! mercy dispel
Yon sight, that it freezes my spirit to tell!
Life flutters convulsed in his quivering limbs,
And his blood-streaming nostril in agony swims.
Accursed be the faggots, that blaze at his feet,
Where his heart shall be thrown ere it ceases to beat,
With the smoke of its ashes to poison the gale

Lochiel. -Down, soothless insulter! I trust not the tale :

Though my perishing ranks should be strewed in their

gore,

Like ocean-weeds heaped on the surf-beaten shore,
Lochiel, untainted by flight or by chains,

While the kindling of life in his bosom remains,
Shall victor exult, or in death be laid low,

With his back to the field and his feet to the foe!
And leaving in battle no blot on his name,

Look proudly to heaven from the death-bed of fame.

Weep, Albin-Scotland, or literally, people of Scotland.

Proud bird of the mountain. The Wizard here addresses Lochiel figuratively, and speaks of the ruin which is impending over his house, as a fire shower destined to consume the eyrie or eagle's nest-that signifies the chief's home and his family.

A darker departure is near. The agonizing description given in the lines which follow to the end of the passage refer to a fact. "The brother of Lochiel returned to England ten years after the rebellion, though he acted only as a surgeon in the rebel army, suffered the dreadful fate here predicted, by a sentence which happily has no parallel for needless severity in the modern history of state trials in this humane age.”

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