e most distinguished chiefs in the
Highlands, ruling his clan with a firm hand, and repressing all thieving
amongst them. As captain of an independent company, he held King
George's commission; his honour kept him faithful to the Government, but
his whole heart was on the other side. He was taken prisoner in his own
house by a party 'hardly big enough to take a cow,' and once a prisoner
in the Highland army, it was no difficult task to persuade him to take
service with the Prince.

The army now descended into the district of Athol. With curious emotion
old Tullibardine approached his own house of Blair from which he had
been banished thirty years before. The brother who held his titles and
properties fled before the Highland army, and the noble old exile had
the joy of entertaining his Prince in his own halls. The Perthshire
lairds were almost all Jacobites. Here at Blair, and later at Perth,
gentlemen and their following flocked to join the Prince.

One of the most important of these was Tullibardine's brother, Lord
George Murray, an old soldier who had been 'out in the '15.' He had real
genius for generalship, and moreover understood the Highlanders and
their peculiar mode of warfare. He was no courtier, and unfortunately
his blunt, hot-tempered, plain speaking sometimes ruffled the Prince,
too much accustomed to the complacency of his Irish followers. But all
that was to come later. On the march south there were no signs of
divided counsels. The command of the army was gladly confided to Lord
George.

Another important adherent who joined at this time was the Duke of
Perth, a far less able man than Lord George, but endeared to all his
friends by his gentleness and courage and modesty. Brought up in France
by a Catholic mother, he was an ardent Jacobite, and the first man to be
suspected by the authorities. As soon as the news spread that the Prince
had landed in the West, the Government sent an officer to arrest the
young duke. There was a peculiar treachery in the way this was
attempted. The officer, a Mr. Campbell of Inverawe, invited himself to
dinner at Drummond Castle, and, after being hospitably entertained,
produced his warrant. The duke retained his presence of mind, appeared
to acquiesce, and, with habitual courtesy, bowed his guest first out of
the room; then suddenly shut the door, turned the key and made his
escape through an ante-room, a backstairs, and a window, out into the
grounds. Creeping from tr