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August the 14th. Inverness. I should be eager to leave this dismal Village tomorrow were it not that 'twill bring me deeper into these barbarous Mountains, and that I'll do it in the Company of Captain Scott, with whom I seem to have made a poor Beginning. He is my Senior, tho' only by a few Months, and perhaps for that very Reason, he took Umbrage when I had the Temerity, as he saw it, to offer an Opinion—entirely justified, I must say—contrary to his own.
August the 15th. Fort Augustus. How I pity the Officers posted to this curst Back-Water of the Highlands! 'Tis rebellious enough to require a Garrison, I suppose, but the Caterans of these Parts would never stand up to any real Warfare. Nevertheless, I could wish for my own Company of the Royals, instead of these fresh Recruits, who require Instruction to use their left Foot after their Right.
August the 16th. The House of Ardroy. By Gad, was it only this Morning that I left Ft Aug? I can scarcely believe it. A brief Summary of Events, then: we were routed in an Ambush that will forever be a Blot upon my military Record, for I have since learnt that the opposing Forces were only eleven Men and a Piper. Thank God I was not in Command—but had I been so, I would have had a Picket out, and I swear I thought so before the Ambush. Captain Scott did not so choose, the Dunce. At any Rate, the Recruits unsurprisingly turn'd their Tails and ran, and I made for Ft Aug for Reinforcements. Which I never reach'd, for Blaze was frighten'd by a Bird and broke his Leg, so that I was oblig'd to shoot him. What damnably bad Luck! If one were superstitious, 'twould be easy to feel that Nature itself is against us here. I'll miss that Horse; he was high-strung, but he trusted me—to his Ruin, it seems. Despite that Loss and the Damage the Fall did to my Ankle, I might have made it to Ft Aug, but in short, I was captur'd. I have been twelve Years a military Officer without having had the dubious Honour of being a Prisoner of War before, but whatever I expected, 'twas not this. And having said that, I suppose I must describe my Captor, which is more easily said than done. To begin with, he belongs to the Cameron Clan and is some Relation to its Chief. His Estate, where I now am lodg'd, is poor and mountainous Land indeed by the Standards of England, and Water-logg'd besides, but he has a fair Number of Tenants and the House is snug and well-built. I have scarcely supp'd better in my Life: such fresh Trout and Venison, and very good Claret, too, altho' I suspect it must be smuggl'd Goods! 'Twould be most ill-bred to tell my Captor so, but here in my Journal I can own that my preconceiv'd Notions of a Highland Captivity ran more to a dark, damp Cave, a shaggy and lousy Cateran who might tie my Hands and throw me in a Corner of it, and offer me some boil'd Oats, if that. No: Ewen Cameron is so far from that, and so far from any military Officer or indeed any Gentleman of my Acquaintance, that he seems a Man of another Age entirely, one more chivalrous and more heroic. Skill at Arms he has, for he disarm'd me easily in a Swordfight, and might I suspect have done so even had I not been injur'd, but he disarm'd as well all my Suspicion and Resentment at my Capture, so that I gave him my Parole with all the good Will in the World. I could not have imagin'd such Courtesy and Generosity had I not seen it, and such delicate Attention to the Honour of one's Enemy. I have so far not mention'd his physical Characteristics, but Nature has seen fit to endow him with an Appearance to match his Character. He is tall, well-muscl'd yet lean, and shews the Garments of these Highlands to an Advantage I could not have imagin'd. As for my Expectation of Shagginess, well, he is clean-shaven, but 'tis true that he has an Abundance of Hair on his Head, and goes Wigless—but no Man ever wore his own Hair with more natural Advantage, for 'tis long and of a deep Auburn that shines in the Sun like some Bronze Helmet. My Tutors despair'd of teaching me Greek in my Youth, but I do recall that the greatest of ancient Warriors had a Mane of Hair of that Colour, so for that and other Reasons I shall refer to him as Achilles. (Judging from the Books on his Shelves, by the Way, he attended better to his Latin and Greek than I did!—another Thing I did not expect here in the Highlands, and I fear I was ill-bred enough to let him see my Surprise.)
Well, I certainly have fill'd the Pages tonight, passing the Time in my Captivity, and shall have to economise if my Journal is not to run out of Pages before I reach Civilisation again. What a Paragon I have made this Ewen Cameron out to be—but I suppose my Expectations of Highlanders were so low as to be very easily exceeded. Perhaps my low Opinion of the Generality of Mankind stems from setting my Standards too high. But I do not expect to continue in this Vein with respect to Ewen Cameron: such an Encomium only invites Disappointment in Future, when what once seem'd admirable reveals itself inevitably to be base Metal after all. 'Tis not as tho' Life has not given me Lessons enough that I ought to have had learnt this hard Truth already. The Stakes are not very high for Ardroy yet; he has only been playing at War, and can afford to give himself out as the chivalrous Hero. I must not let myself be blinded.