And now the fight was over a fight | no visitor; and Lochiel for the third time of which the incidents of self-devotion, of sunk to slumber. But now the ghost, apsingle combat, of hair's-breadth escapes, pearing with an angry aspect, struck him of victory achieved against appalling odds, more sharply than before, and cried in a resemble some wild fable of romantic compelling voice, "Arise, arise, Lochiel!" story rather than events of history. The With the accents ringing in his ears, Lowhole of the English force, except a sin-chiel sprang up and looked forth at the gle fugitive, lay dead upon the shore or doorway of the cabin. To his unspeakain the wood. Lochiel, though nearly all ble surprise, the moor was covered with his band were bruised and wounded, had the red coats of English soldiers. His only lost five men. pursuers had stolen between his outposts, and were creeping up to seize him in his sleep.

Some of his wild warriors had that day set eyes for the first time on Saxon soldiers. There was a singular superstition in the Highlands, often muttered by the ancient wives, that an Englishman in one respect was like a monkey; and it is recorded that, after the battle, the conquerors were to be seen inspecting the dead bodies with lively curiosity, and breaking forth into cries of disappointment because they had no tails!

Next morning Colonel Bryan, the governor of the garrison, marched out two thousand soldiers, thirsting for revenge. In vain. He could see the Camerons on the lofty crags, their colors flying, and their bagpipes yelling in triumph; but he could no more reach them than if they had had wings. On the other hand, wherever parties of his men were to be seen, the mountaineers came swooping from the hills, attacked them, slew them, and rose again, uninjured, like a flight of eagles, into their wild heights and inaccessible ravines. For some days this war went on. But Lochiel, who could no longer absent himself from the main army, at last drew off his men. The colonel instantly told off a strong troop to pursue him. The man who took Lochiel, alive or dead, was to receive promotion and a bag of gold.

Lochiel marched by day over the mountain ranges, and slept by night upon the heather, or in the little shealings, made of turf and branches, which the mountain shepherds build on the bare moors. In one of these he lay one night among the hills of Braemar. No enemy was known to be at hand; and the watch was kept with negligence. In the dead of night an apparition stood beside him. It was the figure of a small, red-bearded man, with troubled features and wild eyes, who struck the sleeper on the breast, and bade him instantly arise. Lochiel awoke, and gazed about him; but he could see nothing, and soon fell asleep once more. Immediately the figure reappeared, and awoke him with the same alarming cry. Lochiel, in some amazement, roused his henchman, who lay beside him. The man had seen

Whoever the red-bearded ghost might be, he certainly came through the gate of horn. His warning was delivered just in time. Lochiel instantly dashed out of the hut, and favored by the dusky light of morning, got clear away among the trackless hills. His men soon gathered round him; but two or three were missing; and Lochiel, moreover, had lost all his baggage, in which were some unset diamonds, and a dozen silver spoons engraven with the ten commandments.

He joined his allies without misadventure. But the campaign was nearly over; and he was soon at liberty to revisit his old foes. He marched back in deep secrecy to Inverlochy. It chanced that on the day of his arrival about a hundred of the officers were celebrating his absence by holding a hunting-party in his forests, and killing his red deer. They were destined to enjoy, that day, the excitement both of the hunter and of the game. In the midst of their amusement Lochiel came suddenly upon them, hunted them out of the forest, and left only ten of them alive.

Nor did he confine himself to Inverlochy. Some days later three colonels, with their guards and servants, who had been sent out to survey the country, were drinking their wine at evening in their inn at Portuchrekine. The door was well guarded; no danger was thought possible; when suddenly the party were electrified to perceive a hole appear among the rafters of the roof. Through the hole Lochiel, with a string of men behind him, came tumbling into the room. In a moment he had made every man of them a prisoner. They were conducted, under the darkness of the night, to the shores of Loch Ortuigg, where a boat was waiting, and were lodged in a crazy cabin on an island in the middle of the lake. Except for their lodgings, however, they had little to complain of. Their servants were permitted to attend them; and every day, as long as they were prisoners, their table was loaded

with venison and wild-fowl. Lochiel, though an appalling enemy, was, after the ancient Highland manner, a host of the most lofty courtesy; and he chose to consider his captives as his guests.

His enemies were, by this time, eager to buy peace. Every chief in Scotland, himself excepted, had now submitted to the Protector, and had been compelled to take an oath of fealty to the State. Lochiel alone received an intimation, that on passing his bare word to fight no longer for Prince Charles, he should receive full compensation for all injuries, and be left, for the future, in undisturbed possession of his lands. These conditions -as glorious to his fame as any feat of arms Lochiel accepted. At the head of his clan, he marched to the garrison at Inverlochy. The treaty was ratified; and Lochiel found himself at peace.

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chiefs, leads, by a deft transition, to the loss of three cows which had befallen himself, and for lack of which, he sighs, he fears that he shall be reduced to feed on grass. Lochiel presented the performer, who in point of poverty, at least, seems to have been the equal of most poets, from Homer downwards, with three fresh cows from his own stock. The company filled his sporran with silver pieces. And hills and valleys echoed with thanksgivings, as the joyful bard departed.

Up to this point we have traced Lochiel's career with some minuteness. The course of events between his marriage and the battle of Killiecrankie may pass more rapidly before us.

In times of peace, among the ancient Highlands, vast hunting-parties took the place of war.

The wolves, that once had prowled in mighty packs among the mounHis name was now renowned all over tains, were by no means yet extinct. Scotland. And his appearance was wor- Twenty years later, Lochiel himself drove thy of his name. He had now attained to his spear into the ribs of the last wolf that his full growth. His figure was six feet howled in Scotland; but at this time numhigh, slender, yet of amazing strength. bers of the fierce beasts were to be found, His face was eminently handsome. His and provided a dangerous and exciting swarthy skin, and his dark and piercing sport. Lochiel's hunting-parties soon eyes, caused him to be known throughout grew famous. They were varied by occathe country by the title of Black Ewen. sional campaigns against the neighboring In nobility of bearing he was said, in after clans. He marched against Macintosh. years, to present a striking likeness to He fought with the Macleans against the Louis the Fourteenth. The resemblance, Campbells. In 1660, when Monk declared however, must have been rather in impres- his pleasure that the king should enjoy sion than in reality; for the majestic his own again, Lochiel marched with Frenchman, in spite of a towering peri- Monk to London, rode at his side on the wig, and shoes with heels like stilts, could day of the triumphal entry, was presented, hardly have come up to Lochiel's shoul-kissed the king's hand, and might, as it der. appears, have had the bliss of holding the king's stirrup, had he not lacked griev ously the courtier's art of thrusting himself forward. It was not, however, from the merry monarch that Lochiel was destined to receive the most distinguished marks of favor, but from James, then Duke of York.

And now, for a time, the claymore was put back into the scabbard. The warpipes were to warble the gay strains of peace. The wild pibroch was to change to wedding reels. Lochiel was to be


His bride was a beautiful Macdonald a daughter of the lofty house whose chief- In 1682 some villagers of Lochiel were tains had, for many ages, been known by seized and brought for trial to Edinburgh, the proud title of the Lords of the Isles. on the charge of having killed two solThe wedding was long remembered for its diers, who had attempted to drive off catsplendor, for the brilliance of the company tle from the village, and who had caused who gathered to the feast, and who danced the death of an old woman, to whom the from night to morning to the joyous skirl-herd belonged. Thither Lochiel repaired ing of the pipes. Among the merry-mak- to answer for his men. The duke hap. ers was one ancient minstrel, who had made a pilgrimage of many miles, that he night add to the festivities the humble tribute of his song. A version of the Gaelic ditty which he sang before the guests is still extant. It is an amusing specimen of the simplicity of art. The singer, having extolled the virtues of the

pened to be visiting the city; and Lochiel,
who waited on him, was most graciously
received. The duke talked long with him
about his exploits in the royal cause, and
finally demanded Lochiel's sword.
chiel chanced to be wearing, at the time,
an ornamental rapier, such as he never
used in actual fighting. He handed his


with much loyal parade, escorted him out of the country, into which he never ventured to set his foot again. To add the last touch to the comedy, the sheriff regarded Lochiel as the preserver of his life, and commended his name to the Council, who sent him a letter of thanks!

weapon to James, who attempted to draw | with the gleam of swords. The sheriff, it; but the blade, which had grown rusty, frightened out of his wits, threw himself would not stir. "Lochiel's weapon," said on the protection of Lochiel; and Lochiel, the duke, with a smile, "has not often stuck in its scabbard when the royal cause required it." Then, as Lochiel, with a slight effort, drew the blade himself, "See, my lords," he continued, turning to the crowd of courtiers who stood round, "the sword of Lochiel obeys no hand except his own!" And with this extremely graceful speech he took the rapier, made Lochiel kneel down, struck him on the shoulder with the blade, and bade him rise up Sir Ewen.


But although Lochiel permitted no rival not even the king's representative usurp his authority, he was ready at all times to fight for the king. When Dundee summoned the clans for his last venThe courtiers who were present at this ture, it was from Lochiel's castle that the ceremony smiled so affably that Lochiel fiery crosses took their flight. His part believed himself to be among a host of in the campaign that followed is one of friends. No sooner, however, had the the well-known events of history. No duke departed than some of these, burst-reader of Scott or of Macaulay will have ing with envy, pushed on the case against forgotten how his voice induced the Counhis villagers with the most bitter vigor. cil to give battle; how, before the fight, The culprits would certainly have been he drew from every Cameron an oath to doomed to dangle in a row, had not Lo-conquer or to perish; and how his onset chiel, who had no mind to see his clans- whirled the red-coats, in a torrent, down men hanged to spite himself, set his own the gorge of Killiecrankie. wits against his enemies. He hired a band of pot-companions to pick acquaintance with the most dangerous of the witnesses against him. These genial spirits earned their pay. On the morning of the trial the witnesses were discovered, after a long search, snoring under a table covered with bottles. No effort could erect them on their legs. The case was dismissed for want of evidence, and Lochiel returned in triumph to Lochaber.

Strategy was, indeed, as native to his character as a feat of arms. In 1685 the sheriff of Inverness was charged by the Council to hold assizes in the Highlands. In the course of his circuit he came into Lochaber, attended by a guard of six or seven hundred men. Lochiel, incensed that but himself should dare to exerany cise authority in his domains, marched to the court with five hundred of his followers. These he professed were intended as a band of honor to the judge; but he had dropped a broad hint in the ears of two or three of his most turbulent spirits: "This judge will ruin us all. Is there none of my lads so clever as to get up a tumult, and send him packing? I have seen them raise mischief at less need." His listeners, eager to seize the least sign of his pleasure, caught up the words in a moment.

The sheriff was sitting; the court was crowded to the doors; when on a sudden, no one could say where, a blow was struck, a scuffle arose, and in two minutes the place was ringing with uproar and dazzling

He had never led his men except to victory and such a victory was the fitting crown of his career. And at this point we must leave him. After the battle he retired into his kingdom, where he lived, taking no further active part in public matters, till 1719, when he died of fever. But, with the exception of a few vague glimpses, we have no record of his later years. In truth, in this point, as in others, he resembles the ancient hero to whom he has been likened. We know little more of the old age of Lochiel than of the old age of Ulysses.

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Nevertheless, his character, his picturesque and striking figure, are as distinct to us as those of any hero of history or romance. The Ulysses of the Highlands !

the title is no freak of fancy. There is no act, no exploit, of the Ithacan, which will not perfectly well suit the character of Lochiel. Nothing is easier than to picture him among the scenes of Homer; to see him, in the mind's eye, rising in the hushed assembly of the Grecian kings, whirling in his chariot along the banks of the Scamander, emerging like a phantom from the wooden horse, plunging the burning brand into the eye of the Cyclops, or scheming how to sail in safety past the perilous islands where the Sirens were singing on the shingle among the bones of men. Strength, courage, fiery vigor, a sagacity which was never to be found at fault-such was the character of the ancient wanderer. And such was the character of Lochiel.



BEFORE the year 1856, vessels becalmed on the Reef coast between the Algerian frontier and the Spanish fortress Peñon, which is situated about sixty miles to the eastward of the Moorish port of Tetuan, were frequently captured by Reefian karebs, large galleys manned by thirty or forty men, armed with long guns, pistols, and daggers.

When a vessel becalmed, drawn by the current, approached the Reef coast, especially in the vicinity of the village of Beniboogaffer near Cape Tres Forcas, about fifteen miles to the westward of the Spanish fortress of Melilla, the natives launched their karebs, hidden in nooks on the rocky coast, or buried under sand, and set out in pursuit, firing volleys as they neared the vessel. The crew, if they had not escaped in the ship's boats when the piratical craft hove in sight, were made prisoners, but were not in general illtreated unless they attempted to offer resistance.

On landing, they were compelled to labor in the fields, receiving a daily allowance of very coarse food. The captured vessel was rifled of cargo and rigging, and then burnt so as to leave no vestige.

In the year 1855 a British vessel was captured by the karebs of Beniboogaffer. In pursuance of instructions from H.M.'s government, a strong representation was made by me to the sultan of Morocco, then Mulai Abderahman, grandfather of the present sovereign, Mulai Hassan, demanding that the pirates should be chastised, that compensation should be given to the owner of the vessel, and that energetic steps should be taken by his Sheriffian Majesty to put a stop to these piratical acts of his lawless subjects of the Reef.

The sultan, on the receipt of this demand, despatched officers from his court to the Reef country, with a Sheriffian edict to the chieftains directing that the sums demanded for the destruction of British property should be paid, and threatened, if further piracies were committed, to send a force into the Reef to chastise his rebellious subjects.

No attention was paid to this edict, for though the Reefians acknowledge the sultan of Morocco as Kaliph * ~Allah,

The population of Morocco have never accepted, like other Mahomedans, the sultan of Turkey, who is not a descendant of the Prophet, as "Kaliph Allah."

H.M. being a direct descendant from the Prophet, and though they allow a gov ernor of Reef extraction to be appointed by him to reside amongst them, they do not admit of his interference in the administration of government or in any kind of legislation, unless it happens that he is voluntarily appealed to in cases of dispute.

The Reefians, however, pay annually a small tribute, which is generally composed of mules and honey, the latter article being much cultivated on the extensive tracts of heather in the Reef mountains. This tribute is collected by the governor and transmitted to the sultan.

After a lengthened correspondence with the Moorish court, it was brought to a close on the sultan declaring he had no power of control over the mountainous districts in the Reef, and therefore declined to be held responsible for the depredations committed on vessels approaching that coast. The British government then despatched a squadron to Gibraltar under Admiral Sir Charles Napier, with orders to embark a regiment at that garrison, and to proceed to the Reef coast and chastise the lawless inhabitants.

This step was decided on without consulting me, for I should never have advised that ships of the line should be sent to bombard the wretched hamlets on the Reef coast, or to attempt to land a small body of troops to attack villages perched on rocky fastnesses, inhabited by a well-armed and daring race, for such an expedition would have led to great loss of life, and certainly to no beneficial results. Sir Charles Napier, on his arrival at Gibraltar with the squadron, communicated to me his instructions, and I did not hesitate in expressing my opinion that it would do more harm than good if he bombarded the villages, or disembarked troops on the coast of Reef; and that I thought it would be advisable, in the first place, that the admiral should pay a visit in some small vessel, when he would be better enabled to form an opinion as to the measures to be adopted. Sir Charles did not reply to my communication, and, having embarked a regiment at Gibraltar, proceeded with the squadron to the Reef coast. No attempt, however, was made to land troops there, neither was a gun fired.

On his arrival at the Spanish fort of westward of the Algerian frontier, Sir Melilla, which is about fifty miles to the Charles called on the Spanish governor

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and requested him to invite the chiefs of the neighboring villages to come to Melilla to meet him.

On their arrival, the admiral demanded compensation for the losses sustained by the owner of the British vessels which had been captured. The Reefians cunningly evaded discussion by replying that they could not accede to demands which did not emanate from the sultan, whose orders they declared they would be prepared to obey.

Sir Charles accepted these vague assurances, and with this unsatisfactory result returned with the squadron to Gibraltar, and addressed to me a communication, making known the language held to him by the Reefians, and requested that I should despatch an express courier to the Moorish court to call upon the sultan to give the requisite orders to the Reefians, who, he declared, were prepared to obey, though he admitted he was ignorant of the names of the chieftains with whom he had the parley.

In my reply to the admiral I expressed my belief that the Reefians had cunningly given these vague assurances to induce him to depart with his ships from their coast, and that I apprehended the sultan would express his surprise that we should have been led to suppose that the piratical and rebellious inhabitants of the Reef coast would pay compensation or give other satisfaction, in pursuance of any orders which H.S.M. might issue.

In this sense, as 1 had expected, the sultan replied to my note, holding out, however, a hope, which had been expressed in past years, that he would seek | at a more favorable moment to make the Reef population, who had been from time immemorial in a semi-independent state, more subservient to his control.

Some months after the squadron had returned to England, a British vessel, becalmed off the village of Beniboogaffer, was taken by a Reefian piratical craft, and the English crew were made captives.

Tidings having reached Gibraltar of the capture of the British ship, a gunboat was sent to Melilla to endeavor to obtain, through the intervention of the Spanish authorities, and an offer of a ransom, the release of the British sailors, but this step was not attended with success. Having heard that the Englishmen who had been captured had been presented by the pirates to a Reef marabet (or holy man) named Alhadary, who resided on the coast, and as I had in past years been in friendly communication with this person regarding

some Reefians, who had proceeded in a British vessel to the East on a pilgrimage to Mecca, and who had been provided by me with letters of recommendation to British consular officers, I wrote to Alhadary a friendly letter, expressing the indig nation I felt at the outrages which had been committed by his piratical brethren on British vessels; that I had been informed the authorities at Gibraltar had endeavored, when they heard British sailors were in the hands of the pirates, to pay a ransom for their freedom, but had failed, as exorbitant demands had been put forward; and that since I had learnt my countrymen were in his hands, I felt satisfied they would be well treated, and that he would facilitate at once their release and return to Gibraltar; that I entertained too high an opinion of him to suppose he would not consent to their release except on the payment of a ransom, and therefore I would make no offer to purchase the liberty of my countrymen, but renewed those assurances of friendship and good-will, of which I said I had already given proof in the past treatment of his brethren.

Alhadary replied that the sailors were under his care and had been well treated; that they would be embarked in the first vessel which might be sent to receive them.

This engagement was faithfully executed, and at my suggestion the authori ties at Gibraltar sent a suitable present to the worthy marabet. I wrote also to thank Alhadary, and to beg that he would use his influence to put a stop to the disgraceful outrages committed in past years by his brethren on the lives and property of British subjects, and that I should probably take an opportunity of seeking to have a parley with the chiefs, in the hope of coming to an understanding with them, to bring about a cessation of these outrages; adding, that if my friendly intervention did not put a stop to the piracy of his brethren, the British government would be compelled, in concert with the sultan, to resort to hostile measures on a large scale, and send forces by sea and land to chastise these rebellious subjects of his Sheriffian Majesty.

In the spring of 1856 H.M. frigate Miranda, Captain Hall, arrived at Tangier with directions to convey me to the coast of Reef. I embarked on the 21st of April, taking with me a Reefian friend, Hadj Abdallah Lamarty, who was sheikh of a village near Tangier called Swaney, whose inhabitants are Reefians, or of Reef extraction.

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